Pared down to its simplest form, the Survival Triangle essentially states: ‘If I can do anything to change my situation, I will begin to feel in control of it; if I feel in control of my situation then I can sustain hope; with hope I can form a plan; with a plan my efforts are directed most efficiently to my goals.’ The Survival Triangle, in combination with a few practical skills, gives you a pre-made planning template which can be used to jumpstart the whole survival process.
Fancy hearing some survival stories, analysis and top tips? I’ve got some speaking events coming up, it’d be good to see you there, all will have a Q&A session at the end:
Bristol, 25th June starting 1830, Stanford’s travel bookshop: http://www.stanfords.co.uk/event-how-to-survive-lessons-for-everyday-life-from-the-extreme-world-61752690961
London, 26th June starting 1900, Stanford’s Covent Garden: http://www.stanfords.co.uk/event-how-to-survive-lessons-for-everyday-life-from-the-extreme-world-61645355919
Bradford Literary Festival, 30th June starting 1415, at the Kala Sangham Arts Centre: https://www.bradfordlitfest.co.uk/event/survive-anything-john-hudson/
More to follow, including Falmouth and Preston…
If you’re an outdoorsy person, or you know people who are, at some time you’ll probably hear these words, usually said smugly, “there’s no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothing”. Or something equally unhelpful if it’s chucking it down and you’ve been caught out in a t-shirt.
Luckily when I go away I normally have a pretty good idea of the conditions I’ll face, so I know what to pack to “dress to survive”. As pretty much everyone loves kit I thought I’d share here in my Field Notes some of the brands I trust.
Top of my wish list in really bad weather is the clothing made by Austrian firm Carinthia. I’ve used their insulation layers in -65 Celcius, a week when our survival training area in the Canadian Arctic made headlines for being colder than Mars. When it gets that baltic I use the ECIG jacket and trouser combo (the suitably named Extreme Cold Insulation Garment for any pub-quizzers out there). ECIG is also what I put on if I’m doing any long trips on snow-machines (skidoos) when the temperatures are low, fast speeds over frozen lakes makes for pretty fierce wind-chill if you aren’t protected and you’re sat still.
One level of insulation down from the ECIG is their High Insulation Jacket; I wore the HIG as part of an RAF survival kit trial during filming of ‘Dude You’re Screwed/Survive That’ in Alaska. The best features were that I stayed warm even when it was really wet, the weather deteriorated during the shoot and it was on the boundary of snow and rain, I’m convinced that without that HIG jacket I’d have become hypothermic.
My most recent TV survival challenge was when I went to play out with Ed Stafford during the Himalayan Monsoon to film ‘First Man Out’. It wasn’t super cold at altitude, but it was the wettest weather I’ve ever encountered. Torrents of the stuff. Of all the folk who were on the mountain my Carinthia Tactical Rain Garment ensured that I was the only person who wasn’t wet under their coat; I was very impressed with that jacket and luckily I got to keep hold of it this time too!
It’s been my pleasure to work with a pair of real aviation adventurers recently. Matt and Steve are going to fly a completely overhauled vintage Spitfire around the world. That means they’ll have to fly over some pretty inhospitable zones with every type of climate imaginable. But what is the hardest place on earth to survive?…
The school where I’m Chief Instructor at can trace its origins back to the Battle of Britain, when the RAF’s Hurricanes and Spitfires fought the German Luftwaffe in the skies above England. Back then the RAF could replace the aircraft that were lost, but not the pilots. And even though the battle was fought in the summer, the English Channel’s waters are cold. The RAF lost 8 out of 10 pilots that were shot down over the sea; cold water kills quicker than any other environment. These days we have better clothing and life rafts for our aircrew, but you have to practise using it. And one of the Silver Spitfires pilots is no stranger to this; Steve survived a helicopter ditching off the coast of Antarctica. Wow.
So the adventurers came to the place where I work to get some training on how to survive bailing out of a Spitfire over cold water, which involved getting dragged behind a boat to simulate being pulled across the sea by a parachute.
Time for a well earned hot drink. Good luck lads, and here’s to blue skies for your trip.
I’m lucky enough to have done survival training in some pretty extreme places, including the driest desert on Earth in Chile’s Atacama. While I was away recently with our desert survival course I managed to visit the hottest place on our planet, Death Valley.
I took the picture on the salt flat at Badwater Basin, the lowest point in North America, it’s summer days are regularly up at 120 Fahrenheit (almost 50 Celsius). Hot stuff. The air here is so dry that you can lose almost ten litres of water per day just sitting in the shade - if you could find any.
When snow is deep, movement over it is pretty much impossible without big feet. Our ancestors recognised that, and copied animals like the aptly named Snowshoe Hare, who have big, furry feet.
Our extremities like fingers, toes, ears and nose - the very ends of our warm blood's circulatory system - can get dangerously cold if we don't wrap them in warm layers too. I wanted to have a go at making the old-style items used by people in the past to traverse deep snow and stay warm, so I made some mukluks and snowshoes.
The mukluk liners are two layered wool, cut from a Hudson's Bay blanket (no relation - I don't think, but they are made in my family's old home town). I based the design of my liners on one in the Canadian History Museum. The outers are made of moose hide and canvas, and I got the bits from Dave and Kielyn at Lure of the North, again in Canada. These shoes are super comfy and warm, even at -30 Celsius that I wore them in (and I'm sure a lot lower too), the critical thing with clothing in really cold climates is for it not to be too tight that it restricts your circulation.
The snowshoes themselves took longer to put together than the mukluks, but in combination they were a real pleasure to use. The Ojibwa style I chose went great across the frozen lakes of Northern Norway, at the very top of Arctic Europe, but were a bit trickier on the gradients of the portages in between. Route selection was the key there. The bindings were simple cotton strips that allow my heel to raise as I walk.
With kit like this, which you can make for yourself, you can access remote wilderness at any time of year, just like the pioneers of the past did.
I was invited by US outdoor gear makers Filson to talk at their London store, about what to wear to survive in the harshest climates on Earth. I went through regions of the world where you need to dress for warmth, to protect from extreme heat, and passed around some stuff I've made myself. A key part of clothing is how it feels when you're wearing it, so I explained the many uses of a Battle of Britain pilot's silk scarf, and then after some great questions, I put on my trusty Filson jacket to head for a pint.
I was invited to talk to Lloyds Pharmacy's patient safety specialists, looking at how the work they do to cultivate and grow a true safety culture has a huge range of similarities with what I do. I spoke about the genesis of military survival training, which ultimately lead to it's own safety culture, showing how a network of passionate volunteers can spread best practice and raise safety standards in any walk of life. The talk was encapsulated in digital art by Caroline Rudge, here's her brilliant piece:
Over the last few months all my spare time has been spent writing about how to survive anywhere; from the Arctic to offices, and yesterday I was thinking about desert islands. They are the go-to metaphor for survival, and you don't have to look far to see them in popular culture's idea of what survival is all about. But I'm writing about real life, not reality TV, and the real difficulties of desert islands aren't the obvious ones. The island in the picture was the scene of several people's real-life survival ordeals, over a few decades. It holds many challenges physically – there's no easy water source for a start – but the biggest challenges to any castaway are psychological. That's where I'm focusing my attention this week.
People often ask what's best to wear when it's really, really cold. This short animation of all my arctic clobber laid out on a parachute gives an idea of just how much you need to have on to stay warm; this lot worked for me when it got to below -60 Celsius, less than -80 Fahrenheit.
Base Layer – Your next to the skin clothing traps a boundary layer of warm air and wicks away sweat, but it also needs to be comfy – there's nothing worse than an itch you can't scratch through 6 inches of clothing; merino wool is good. Really warm socks are a must, I prefer Thorlo mountaineering ones.
Warm Layers – The layers above your base one are there to trap pockets of air that will stay warm. Wool is best, I like the Swedish ones made by Ullfrotte and you can't beat a Norwegian Army jumper over that. The other, super-warm gear I really rate is made by Austrian firm Carinthia. I've worn it making Survive That and teaching SERE in the high Arctic. The jacket and trousers here are their ECIG (extreme cold insulation garment) ones.
Shell Layer – The outer, windproof layer is the key to keeping the warm air trapped near you, not blown away. Braces on trousers help prevent overheating if you're working by venting excess heat, but it's always best to remove some warm layers before work starts too. Sweat kills in the Arctic because it soaks your clothing, and water conducts heat away from you 24 times faster than air. Really warm boots with thick innersoles, like these Baffin Shackletons, stop warmth leaving by conduction to the snow, they're rated to -100 Celsius.
Head Stuff – To protect your head and face, a warm hat – mine's an old Norwegian Air Force one, neck warming 'headover' and then fur round your windproof jacket's hood works really well, plus goggles for when it's very windy; like under a helicopter.
Hand Stuff – If you lose your manual dexterity through the cold it can mean death in the Arctic, so good hand protection is vital. For working I wear Hestra gloves. For snow-machining (skidoo-ing) or where you don't need to use individual fingers, mittens keep your hands warmer. I wear three layers; inner silk flying gloves, wool-pile warm layer mittens, then fur outers - with wrist lanyards to prevent losing them in high winds.
The final layer is for the E & E part of SERE, snow camouflage protects you from hostile detection, 'nuff said. It takes a long time to get dressed.