Anybody who's spent more than 10 minutes or so in my company will almost certainly be aware of my deep attachment to all things Springsteen... but this Boss ain't him. This is the final resting place of the other Boss - Ernest Shackleton. Explorer, leader, hero, and copywriter of the greatest advertisement ever:"Men wanted for hazardous journey. Small wages, bitter cold, long months of complete darkness, constant danger, safe return doubtful. Honour and recognition in case of success. Reply E. Shackleton, 4, Burlington St."
Brilliant. 5000 replies received. To put that into perspective, it's about a million percent more replies than most small ads (or indeed big ones) get. Now, some believe that the ad is apocryphal and never actually ran in the newspaper. But this is advertising, and so what?
But I digress.
Down on the incredibly beautiful subantarctic island of South Georgia lies the grave of Ernest Shackleton. A man who snatched glory from the jaws of defeat on his ill fated jaunt to the South Pole by crossing the sea in a lifeboat, yomping across the hitherto uncrossed South Georgia and eventually returning with help to Elephant Island to rescue every single man on his expedition.
When Ernest finally reached the whaling station at Stromness, South Georgia, the man on watch opened the door to the exhausted, filthy, wild looking explorer and (understandably, since everyone thought the party had long since perished) looked at him blankly. Whereupon Ernest looked straight back at him and uttered the coolest words ever to have been ripped off by Ian Fleming-
"My name is Shackleton. Ernest Shackleton".
That's why they call him the Boss. And that's why anyone visiting South Georgia is morally obliged to stand at his graveside and toast him with a tot of rum.
And quite right, too. Read his story of the trip - 'South'. It's a goody.
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