Death of an adventurer
09/12/15 05:19
Over the years, I have read various articles about Douglas Tompkins. He seemed in some ways to be a free spirit and a complex thinker, a successful businessman and an explorer of a different way to live. I was intrigued by a contemporary, who was only slightly older than I. The son of a decorator and antiques dealer living around New York City, he was expelled from a prestigious Connecticut boarding school at age 17. A few years later, when I was 17, I left my high school without graduating. Tompkins’ teen years were embroiled in confrontations with authority, but he had the luxury of access to a bit of his parents’ wealth and more options than other high school drop-outs.
He headed west, became a ski bum and adventurer. He married his first wife and they went into the business of selling high-end outdoor equipment imported from Europe in San Francisco. The company they formed was called North Face and it produced a fair profit for the couple, who sold their business after 5 years, before it became the outdoor clothing giant that it is today.
From there he went to Patagonia to go mountain climbing and the film he made of the trip, Mountain of Storms, has become a classic among the climbing community.
Over the years there were plenty of stories about his outdoor adventures - most of which were beyond the budget of everyday skiers and outdoor players like myself. We admired his trips, but knew that we couldn’t afford them. There was a time in my life when the thought of skiing all year around by traveling back and forth between Chili and the US and Canada sounded appealing. Reality, however, prevented me from such a choice.
It didn’t slow down Tompkins, who seemed to have a knack for making money as he adventured around the world. He and his wife started a women’s dress business selling clothes out of the back of a Volkswagen mini van. The clothing line became Esprit de Corps, later shortened to just Esprit, and it made them millionaires.
Tompkins divorced his wife and sold his shares of Esprit for a reported $150 million.
Form there he went into the business of ecology. Having read “Deep Ecology: Living asIf Nature Mattered” by George Sessions and Bill Devall. The book calls for a radical restructuring of human society to bring it into harmony with nature.
He began to purchase large tracts of land in Chile. He married Kristine McDivitt, former CEO of Patagonia, another outdoor clothing firm. He formed the Conservation Land Trust, which bought up hundreds of thousands of acres in Chile and Argentina to be maintained as wilderness. His moves were suspect by the natives, who weren’t entirely comfortable with a foreigner buying up their land. There is no shortage of wealthy foreigners who buy up land at Chile’s comparatively low prices. People from other countries have made millions from logging, mining, hydroelectric projects and other extractive industries. People couldn’t figure Tompkins out. He seemed to be opposed to every development project that promised to raise the living standards of the local people.
These days his attempts to preserve the land are less controversial in Chile.
Meanwhile Tompkins continued with his adventures. He was kayaking on Child’s General Carrera Lake with a group of five others yesterday when strong waves caused the boats to capsize. He had traded winter for winter traveling for summer fare and the Chilean springtime bought out the desire for a wilderness adventure. And adventure always comes with risk. I don’t know how long the boaters were in the water. I don’t know if they had wet suits or dry suits to extend the time they could survive. I do know how easy it is to push beyond one’s limits in a kayak. You can paddle farther and got to places that are too remote for rescue if you have to spend any amount of time in the water. And, having passed the age of 60, I know how quickly one can become rusty at outdoor survival skills such as rolling a kayak. Once you make a wet exit, you don’t have much time before hypothermia sets in.
Whatever happened, Tompkins is now dead. Wealth and experience weren’t enough to keep him alive in the frigid waters. A military patrol boat rescued three of the kayakers while a helicopter lifted out the other three. He was airlifted to Coyhaique where he died in the hospital’s intensive care unit.
Unfortunately it is a story that has repeated itself too many times. The list of outdoor adventurers who finally come up against the limits of their sport in a fatal way is long. That reality won’t deter other adventurers. There will be no shortage of people who admire Tompkins and even think that the means of his death are far more preferable than dying of disease or the effects of old age. Tompkins lived fully and died doing what he loved in a place he chose.
I have no expertise to provide additional commentary on the meaning of his life, only a the observation that enjoying nature doesn’t require one to push the limits of safety. I have no less joy because I paddle in small and sheltered waters. I am no less inspired by the beauties of nature because I now hike on stable trails instead of gearing up for rock climbing. I am no less committed to living responsibly even though I cannot afford to own large tracts of land to keep them from commercial development.
Still, I know that life has its risks. Driving my car to and from the lake is probably statistically more risky than the type of kayaking he was doing at the time of his death. An accident can occur to any one of us. Whether we make it to seventy, eighty, ninety or past 100, life is short. Living without risk isn’t possible. What we can control to a certain extent is the level of risk.
Tompkins was famous. His death is making all of the big newspapers. It isn’t so with other risk takers.
For all of you, be careful out there. Gear up. Keep rescue plans at the top of your list of preparations. We count you when you head out on your adventures and count you when you return, hoping to get the same number each time.
He headed west, became a ski bum and adventurer. He married his first wife and they went into the business of selling high-end outdoor equipment imported from Europe in San Francisco. The company they formed was called North Face and it produced a fair profit for the couple, who sold their business after 5 years, before it became the outdoor clothing giant that it is today.
From there he went to Patagonia to go mountain climbing and the film he made of the trip, Mountain of Storms, has become a classic among the climbing community.
Over the years there were plenty of stories about his outdoor adventures - most of which were beyond the budget of everyday skiers and outdoor players like myself. We admired his trips, but knew that we couldn’t afford them. There was a time in my life when the thought of skiing all year around by traveling back and forth between Chili and the US and Canada sounded appealing. Reality, however, prevented me from such a choice.
It didn’t slow down Tompkins, who seemed to have a knack for making money as he adventured around the world. He and his wife started a women’s dress business selling clothes out of the back of a Volkswagen mini van. The clothing line became Esprit de Corps, later shortened to just Esprit, and it made them millionaires.
Tompkins divorced his wife and sold his shares of Esprit for a reported $150 million.
Form there he went into the business of ecology. Having read “Deep Ecology: Living asIf Nature Mattered” by George Sessions and Bill Devall. The book calls for a radical restructuring of human society to bring it into harmony with nature.
He began to purchase large tracts of land in Chile. He married Kristine McDivitt, former CEO of Patagonia, another outdoor clothing firm. He formed the Conservation Land Trust, which bought up hundreds of thousands of acres in Chile and Argentina to be maintained as wilderness. His moves were suspect by the natives, who weren’t entirely comfortable with a foreigner buying up their land. There is no shortage of wealthy foreigners who buy up land at Chile’s comparatively low prices. People from other countries have made millions from logging, mining, hydroelectric projects and other extractive industries. People couldn’t figure Tompkins out. He seemed to be opposed to every development project that promised to raise the living standards of the local people.
These days his attempts to preserve the land are less controversial in Chile.
Meanwhile Tompkins continued with his adventures. He was kayaking on Child’s General Carrera Lake with a group of five others yesterday when strong waves caused the boats to capsize. He had traded winter for winter traveling for summer fare and the Chilean springtime bought out the desire for a wilderness adventure. And adventure always comes with risk. I don’t know how long the boaters were in the water. I don’t know if they had wet suits or dry suits to extend the time they could survive. I do know how easy it is to push beyond one’s limits in a kayak. You can paddle farther and got to places that are too remote for rescue if you have to spend any amount of time in the water. And, having passed the age of 60, I know how quickly one can become rusty at outdoor survival skills such as rolling a kayak. Once you make a wet exit, you don’t have much time before hypothermia sets in.
Whatever happened, Tompkins is now dead. Wealth and experience weren’t enough to keep him alive in the frigid waters. A military patrol boat rescued three of the kayakers while a helicopter lifted out the other three. He was airlifted to Coyhaique where he died in the hospital’s intensive care unit.
Unfortunately it is a story that has repeated itself too many times. The list of outdoor adventurers who finally come up against the limits of their sport in a fatal way is long. That reality won’t deter other adventurers. There will be no shortage of people who admire Tompkins and even think that the means of his death are far more preferable than dying of disease or the effects of old age. Tompkins lived fully and died doing what he loved in a place he chose.
I have no expertise to provide additional commentary on the meaning of his life, only a the observation that enjoying nature doesn’t require one to push the limits of safety. I have no less joy because I paddle in small and sheltered waters. I am no less inspired by the beauties of nature because I now hike on stable trails instead of gearing up for rock climbing. I am no less committed to living responsibly even though I cannot afford to own large tracts of land to keep them from commercial development.
Still, I know that life has its risks. Driving my car to and from the lake is probably statistically more risky than the type of kayaking he was doing at the time of his death. An accident can occur to any one of us. Whether we make it to seventy, eighty, ninety or past 100, life is short. Living without risk isn’t possible. What we can control to a certain extent is the level of risk.
Tompkins was famous. His death is making all of the big newspapers. It isn’t so with other risk takers.
For all of you, be careful out there. Gear up. Keep rescue plans at the top of your list of preparations. We count you when you head out on your adventures and count you when you return, hoping to get the same number each time.