While death is no stranger up on the mountain, it has been the repeated rebukes in the media, not only from journalists but also from members of its own fraternity that appears to be having the most detrimental effect on the sports image. The 1996 and 2006 seasons are widely acknowledged as the most controversial years in its history, not only because of the record death tolls, but also because of the storm of media coverage and commentary that surrounded them (see, e.g., Bird et al., 2008; Fickling, 2006; Gillman, 2006; Hawley and Salisbury, 2007; Heil, 2006, 2008; Kodas, 2008; Krakauer, 1997; Moreton, 2006a, 2006b; Neighbour, 2008; Salisbury and Hawley, 2007; Unsworth, 2000). In 2006, eleven climbers lost their lives in the six-week spring window, two of which came to represent the extremes of human behaviour on the mountain. The prime climbing season in spring runs from the start of March to the end of May, these deaths occurred towards the end of this period between 4 April and 25 May 2006.

On 15 May, a mere 300 m from the summit, David Sharp sat just off the climbing route next to a shallow ice cave dying of hypoxia. High altitude hypoxia is caused by the lack of differential between the barometric pressures inside and outside the body, which the lungs need to function normally. At higher elevations as the air pressure drops the volume of air that can be drawn into the lungs decreases but does not affect the proportion of oxygen. This means that with each passing breath in less oxygen being passed through the lungs into the blood stream, which is the primary underlying cause of most altitude-related problems (HACE, HAPE, ataxia, etc.). The lower air pressure also results in fluid leeching out of the body and pooling in the lungs. Starved of oxygen in the rarefied atmosphere 8,500 m above sea level, slowly drowning as his lungs filled with his own fluids and his arms and legs slowly turned to ice. While horrific, this type of end is not uncommon for those willing to tackle the challenges of nature and altitude. What disturbed the world was not that manner of his death, but rather the actions, or rather the inaction, of those on the mountain at the time. On this third and (self-confessed) final attempt at climbing Everest, this mathematics teacher from England decided, to go solo without either guide or Sherpa. He left Camp three (C3) for his summit bid early on 14 May and was seen again later that day at about midnight at approximately 8,400 m by the ascending Turkish expedition. On seeing his condition they inquired about his health and advised him to go back down, but he waved them away. Hours later when they descended from the summit David was still in the same position, clearly in some distress. While the team decided what should be done, a problem was developing with one of their own as members who were in need of aid. While some of the team may have been inclined to provide aid to David, it is understandable that the Turkish expedition chose to help their compatriot. The primary concern here was not that they chose to help one of their own, but rather that they misreported Sharpe’s condition. On returning to camp they reported that David was in an irrecoverable hypothermic coma, which in mountaineering terms is almost certain death and virtually no chance at survival. A hypothermic state is achieved when the amount of heat being lost from the body exceeds its ability to generate warmth, when this occurs all physiologic functions are slowed, including cardiovascular and respiratory systems, nerve conduction, mental acuity and muscular reaction times. In the most extreme states the body forces the victim into a deep coma, often unrecoverable. The only known survivor of a hypothermic coma at altitude is Beck Weathers, who sank into the coma at 26,000 ft on the South Col of Everest, was pronounced beyond saving by a doctor at the scene (Weathers, 2001).⁴ By claiming that Sharp was in such a state would have indicated that he was well beyond help. That evening in camp Tharumalingam heard about Sharp’s condition and paid it no mind, as there is little one can do for the dead. However, after descending from the summit at about 2 pm on the following day (15 May) he was shocked to see Sharp still alive when he waved his arm. How could a man in a supposed hypothermic coma spend the night at 8,400 m, unprotected in the death zone, still be alive and talking unless his real condition was misreported? When we talk about the Death Zone it refers to altitudes above the point where the native air can no longer support human life. The zone is generally tagged as between 7,000 and 8,000 m (23,000 and 26,200 ft), but effects can be observable once humans enter altitudes above 2,000 m. A large number of the deaths at altitude are attributed to hypoxia, either directly through the loss of vital functions or indirectly through poor decisions being made or physical weakening leading to accidents. The reason for Sharp’s misreported condition has been the source of much speculation, was it as benign as a misdiagnosis or sinister as a cover for an embarrassing lack of assistance offered by the Turkish climbers.

It has been estimated that Sharp made the summit early in the afternoon of the 14 May. Between this point and 2 pm the next day (thirty-six hours later) an estimated forty climbers on their way to the summit walked past a fellow climber in desperate need of aid with only a few registering his plight and even fewer rendering any form of assistance. Those who passed him on route to the summit seemed to have placed their own personal glory and conquest of the mountain before the needs of another human being. By the time Tharumalingam stopped to aid David in the afternoon it was far too late. By now he was so close to death that any attempt would be a recovery not rescue and even recovery would have been extremely difficult. In Sharpe’s current physical, arms and legs frozen, and mental, delirious or unconscious, condition meant that any rescue would require a team to physically carry him down the mountain as he would not be able to assist. That is, a stretcher would have to be slung between several climbers and manhandle his body off the summit. Unfortunately, it was at about this time that Himalayan Experience (HimEX) decided that little could be done and gave the okay for a team to strike for the summit rather than to help, further inflaming tensions. It is important to note that HimEX, set up by Russell Brice (NZ) in 1996 after twenty years of climbing and guiding experience, has been a major player in the adventure travel and expedition company in Nepal ever since and is acknowledged as having a very good reputation (record) for safety.

David Sharpe now rests in a shallow ice tomb just below the summit, beside the frozen corpse of another climber, nicknamed ‘green boots’, who is believed to be Indian climber Tseuang Paljor. This is just another climber who in 1996 suffered the same slow frozen death and has since been used as a signpost or reference point on the summit trail. What made this story more poignant was a similar drama that was to unfold only two days after Sharpe’s death. However, this time many expeditions were coordinating efforts and were racing back up the mountain to save the life of Australian climber Lincoln Hall.

After reaching the summit, Hall struggled for several hours to descend but had only managed to make it about 100 m when he ran into life-threatening trouble. In his exhausted state he sat down and became unresponsive, making it extremely difficult for his Sherpa to either move him or get him to move. Later as night closed in and the temperature began to rapidly drop, the Sherpa who had stayed with him found that their own oxygen supply was fast running out. The Sherpa were forced to make a life-and-death decision of their own, they decided to leave Hall behind and attempted to return to camp in the dark freezing conditions lest they themselves run out of oxygen and die on the slopes. Again the issue was not that a climber was left behind, but rather that their condition was being misreported. When they finally reached camp, the Sherpa reported that Hall had died on the slopes and as such no attempt was made to rescue him that evening. However, early the next day Hall was found by American climber Dan Mazur, sitting on the edge of a 1,000-m drop, without a shirt, hat or gloves. He smiled to Mazur and reportedly greeted him saying ‘I imagine you are surprised to see me here’ (Heil, 2008, p. 216). After radioing down that Hall was alive, a coordinated effort was put together spanning across many different expeditions and over eleven Sherpas raced up the mountain with a stretcher to bring him down alive. Remarkably, Hall survived the night on the highest point on earth, in the death zone with neither oxygen nor shelter. Unlike Sharp a massive rescue operation was set into motion to retrieve him. For these two men, the similarities of the events are only eclipsed by the vast differences in outcomes, as they were only separated by a matter of days and the distance between life and death.

One could argue that the massive rescue operation was merely a knee jerk reaction to the death of Sharp just days earlier or it could just be that everything was in the wrong place at the wrong time for Sharp but in the right place for Hall. In the weeks following these two events, newspapers around the world exploded with accusations and scathing stories of neglect, claiming that people were being left behind to die by uncaring climbers and greedy expeditions. Joining his voice to this chorus was Sir Edmund Hillary; he vented his disgust and contempt, by claiming that in his day they never would they have left a man under a rock to die (Fickling, 2006). But never in his day was there so much money to be made through conga lines of adventure tourist clambering to scale Everest. Now the only skill required of these new clients was the ability to pay the exorbitant climbing fees, up to an estimated US$65,000 (Kodas, 2008). This is a violation of the climbing ethic that stretched through Hillary back to pioneers like Mallory and beyond, whose objective was to test one’s self in the crucible of the mountains, not the attainment of personal glory.

It is a popular view that modern climbing had become more about personal achievement and glory than testing oneself. This is a sentiment held by many of the modern climbers, like Juanito Oiarzabal, who held the record for the most ascents of the 8,000’ers, said that Everest had turned into a circus where people are buying their way to the summit and few of these so-called cheque book heroes were real climbers (Oiarzabal quoted in Moreton, 2006a). This new breed of climbers did not seem interested in anything other than the achievement of the summit, the crossing off of a bucket list item. This view was reflected in the response to why a Japanese team did not help to another group in distress, but as Hanada bluntly pointed out ‘They were Indian climbers – we didn’t know them. No, we didn’t give them any water. We didn’t talk to them. They had severe high-altitude sickness’ (Hanada, Financial Times). This drew a bitter rebuke from Singh of the Indian camp, arguing ‘How could a strong team of five have passed his men and done nothing? When had the summit become more important than another man’s life? This was an outrage and a disgrace, - tantamount to murder’ (Heil, 2008, p. 4). However, in a surprising contrast Sharp’s own mother supported Handa in a London Sunday Times interview, stating ‘your responsibility is to save yourself, not to try to save anybody else’ (Gillman, 2006). Handa is not alone in this view, such as Japanese climber Shigekawa, stated that ‘we climb by ourselves, by our own efforts, on the big mountains – above 8,000 meters is not a place where people can afford morality’ (Heil, 2008). The attitude and beliefs portrayed by Hillary are clearly incongruous with those expressed by some and the conflict seems to stem from the differences in core beliefs and attitudes of modern climbers being vastly different to those of the prior generations. This is not to say that all cooperative behaviour and sacrifice has vanished, in an act of extraordinary sacrifice of Spanish climber Juan Carlos Gómez in 1992. Gómez was mere meters away from his dream of summiting Everest, when he encountered Rafael Vidaurre Garayo (also from Spain) on the Hillary Step, suffering from snow blindness after summiting. Gómez immediately turned around and lead his compatriot down to safety and by doing so gave up his chance to summit (Unsworth, 2000, p. 534).

This raises the question, has the traditions and social norms of the brotherhood of climbers vanished or are recent behaviours and attitudes isolated anomalies, being sensationalized by the media and a few disgruntled book authors? Has the commercialization of mountain climbing brought about a change in behavioural attitudes towards and between fellow climbers? It is also possible that we are looking in the wrong place when we talk about the disappearance of the ‘brotherhood of the rope’, a case of not seeing the forest for the trees. Do all modern climbers belong to this ‘brotherhood’? If not, then are there special bonds or relationships that on casual inspection are not clearly visible, which may affect...