All language subtitles for BBC.Endeavour.Everest③By.Balloon.720p.HDTV.x264_track3_[eng]

WIND WHISTLES

Everest is one of those symbols
of man's achievement.

To take the oldest form of flight

across the most
spectacular mountains on Earth

is one of life's great things to do.

For 10 years, Chris Dewhirst
has nurtured a dream.

A vision of ascending over
the summit of the world

in a chariot of fire.

A hot-air balloon.

A celebration of the first ascent
of humankind over 200 years ago.

Now we're moving closer
to that moment of truth,

I imagine I'll feel amazingly
frightened

and incredibly exhilarated
at the same time.

Chris has tried once before, but
the balloon fell short of Everest.

Then it became a matter of honour.

And I felt I'd never feel satisfied
with myself unless I did it.

But now there are others
who would have the same dream.

Everest by balloon
has become a race.

But the mountain is indifferent
to the ambitions of man...

..and his puny flying machine.

In the little Himalayan state
of Nepal,

nestled between the two giants
of China and India,

the 20th century has only just
touched down.

FAINT CHANTING

They call it Sagarmatha.

That's the Sherpas, you know,
mother goddess of all earth.

But I just think it's another
mountain.

But I'll tell you what, I'm glad I've
got those prayer flags on the balloon

because when you're in Nepal,
you really feel that it's important

to have a foot in both camps
when it comes to this sort of thing.

This trip is different
from last time.

I'm married to Heather.

This time, I've promised someone
that I'm going to come back.

That I'm not going to get killed,
that I'm going to survive.

It was from this place in Kathmandu

where Chris took off
for his first flight in 1985.

Taking off from this square here
was just extraordinary.

In my imagination, I thought
we had twice the space we'd got,

but now I'm back here, I think,

"God, we actually put two balloons
up in here

"and we didn't knock one of those
temples over? That was luck!"

Well, we flew a long way
towards Everest,

but we fell short by ten miles.

We ran out of fuel,
we were too slow in the air.

And we failed on that expedition.

We had one balloon up a tree

and the other stretched
on the side of a mountain.

So when I got a call from Leo to say,

"Would you like to fly this balloon
over Everest?" I couldn't believe it.

I thought it was an opportunity
that I could never let go past again.

Leo Dickinson is a world-famous
adventure cameraman.

He specialises in filming
the impossible.

Leo flew with Chris
on the first expedition.

And after it failed, he pledged that
he'd bring it back to life again.

Very few people get a chance to
fly in a balloon over Mount Everest.

And so it's very important for me
to get the best possible film

so that I can share
these experiences.

Leo is like a sort of dog with
a bone, you know.

He buries it, he digs it up,
he buries it again,

he digs it up, he gnaws at it.

He doesn't like things to flop.

He doesn't like unfinished business.

So it's his nature to keep going
at a project, I think.

And good on him, too,
because he stayed with it

and he got back on the wagon
when it started rolling again.

LAUGHTER

British balloonist Andy Elson

and mountain climber Eric Jones

will fly a second balloon
to film the big flight.

Eric Jones, I've only ever seen him
on Leo's film

where he soloed the north face
of the Eiger.

He has the great capacity
and the coolness

to make things succeed for him.

My motto is life is adventure
or nothing at all.

I've got to have this bit
of adrenaline flying
and having a good time.

And I just hope that I'm fortunate
enough to stay healthy

to be able to do it
for a few more years.

Andy? You're going to enjoy this!

I don't know how you Welsh
mountain goats get up here.

Andy's a balloonist and an engineer.

He's flown across the Alps,
Mont Blanc,

the Aiguille du Midi, all of those,

but nothing as big as Mount Everest.

Mont Blanc wouldn't even get a name
in the Himalayas.

Peter Mason had the job
of expedition organiser.

It took him three years
because of political uprisings.

First in Tibet and then in China,
in Tiananmen Square.

Then in 1990, democracy finally
caught up with the kingdom of Nepal.

Everything was go for a launch
in the spring of 1990.

We came back to Kathmandu.

And would you believe it?
We got caught in another uprising.

This time in Nepal,

the last place we expected
to have political problems.

We'd heard that a number of tourists
had been shot in the streets.

We could hear the gunfire.
There were demonstrations.

Kathmandu was not a very safe place
to be in those three days.

And we very reluctantly took the
decision to postpone the project.

We were now looking at doing it
with two balloons.

A second balloon
as a camera platform.

Which, of course,
doubled the amount of paperwork.

I must have amassed a million words
of correspondence.

It was a nightmare.
A nightmare of paperwork.

OK, thanks very much. Thank you.
Thanks.

Thank you.

The mountain of paperwork completed,

the mountain of equipment now snakes
its way up the Khumbu Valley,

the gateway to Mount Everest.

Ahead lies a backbreaking six days'
trek to base camp at Gokyo.

We've got five tonnes of gear,

two caterpillars making
their way up the mountain,

three tonnes of food, 150 porters,
50 yaks,

all to get two lighter-than-air
machines over Mount Everest.

An 100lb load for a porter
is worth triple money,

so a lot of the porters will seek
the heavy loads for that reason.

We have a ballooning expedition,

a meteorological expedition

and we have a camera expedition.

And there's bound to be
a certain amount of problems.

At 16,000 feet,
they become accentuated

because altitude has a strange
effect on the human body

and on the human mind.

You know what's happened this time?

I've been left holding the baby.

I was invited to go
ballooning over Mount Everest

by this group of Australians
six years ago.

And they let me down -
they didn't have the permission.

So we went for a nice flight
across the Himalayas.

We, now, the British, have got
this bit of paper

from the Chinese that says,

"Yeah, go fly over Everest
if you want to."

So I've brought the Australians
back, saying,

"OK, here's the baby back, guys.
Let's go and do it."

So I guess it's appropriate
that this is a British expedition.

They had the first person
die on Everest,

they were the first to fly over
Everest in 1932.

I guess they might feel
a little bit disappointed

that they've got an Australian pilot.

Chris seems to spend half his time
at least taking to Heather.

And I would like to spend at least
half his time talking to me,

and it's not happening.

I don't feel as if I'm forming this
bonding relationship with Chris.

And it's important because

we're going over the top
of Mount Everest together.

We've got ten days sitting at Gokyo.

I'm going to be with the party the
whole rest of the way up the trek.

Don't you think...?
You listen! Let me finish!

You've just accused me of abandoning
the team, destroying team morale.

You're right on your bloody
high horse, it gives me the...!

I think it's being the local
soap opera, actually.

We've got the mothers' committee
out there with their knitting.

I wonder how many stitches
they've dropped?

I was there! No, you weren't...!

You're an old bloody woman! I was
away for one night from this team.

I just knew right from the start
that I wasn't wanted.

All I'm needed for is a jockey in the
bloody balloon! You were not!

That I'm not a leader
of the project,

that all I'm here for is to fly
that balloon for you guys.

I've asked you three times
if you will assume the role
of expedition leader.

Everyone's looking up to you. You're
the guy who'll get all the glory.

You're the guy who's going
to go down in history.

I'm not interested in all the glory
on this, Leo.

I'm not interested in going down
in the history books.

I'm simply saying that, as a mate,

for somebody that's got me
on your first trip,

I've now got you on our trip,

I just want to share
these experiences.

I've got Mandy with me,
you've got Heather with you.

I don't actually want to stay
in the same tent with you...!

CONTINUES INDISTINCTLY

We have an enormous investment
in these yaks.

This gear is very delicate.

So if we've got this far without
losing any gear, we're fortunate.

They've got four legs
and our little porter up there,

who's carrying about the same weight,
has only got two.

I was just congratulating us

on getting so far after a week
on the trail

when one of the porters yelled out
that a yak had taken a tumble.

So apparently, the yak went 15
metres rolling down the gorge.

Luckily, the yak's all right,

which is more than can be said
for the cameras.

Well, I've never seen a lens
looking like that before.

My whole reason for being here
is to film.

And I spent a couple of years
preparing.

And when this yak fell off the track
with my cameras

and broke and bent them
and so forth,

it put me in a state of shock.
I was in mourning.

Right,
anybody want to pray to their gods?

WHIRRING

Well, good old Photo-Sonic!

We have a working movie camera.

Well, it looks like you said the
right things to the right gods, Leo.

You've got it working.
Is the zoom working, as well?

Yep, the little zoom is working,
too.

Challenging Everest can be costly.

Leo got off lightly compared
to a recent Japanese expedition,

who attempted to fly Mount Everest
from the Tibetan side.

They were tracking towards Everest,

but they were so awestruck
by the surroundings,

they felt they weren't
getting anywhere,

that they weren't
travelling fast enough.

You don't realise
just the scale that you're in.

The Japanese pilot decided that they
wouldn't get over Mount Everest,

they didn't have the speed,
so they aborted their flight.

And as they came down,
they got caught in a wind eddy

and they were smashed
at the side of a mountain.

Their basket was burnt
and the pilot was almost killed.

They were very lucky
to get away with their lives.

FAINT SHOUTING

To climb, to fly,
to do something with Everest

which is spectacular, has great
meaning for people in the west.

But it doesn't have that meaning
for people who live in the east.

For the Sherpas who live here,

I don't think they care very much
whether you climb Everest or not.

And I think that's very interesting,

that Everest is no more than a
dwelling place for the mountain gods.

For us, it has some other strange
significance.

People who live in the west
are accountants.

And they measure success by the
height of the mountain they climb.

I started to feel really nervous,

excited and a little bit anxious.

And bringing home the reality

that we're going to cast ourselves
adrift over Everest
in a hot-air balloon.

It's a pretty wild concept,
isn't it, really?

Gokyo is to be our home for as long
as it takes to do the flight.

For the Hindus,
Gokyo is a sacred place.

When Shiva was creating the world,

he drove his trident
into the ground

and created the three lakes
of Gokyo.

At 16,000 feet, it's one of the
highest dwelling places on earth.

Gokyo is dramatically close
to Everest.

Only 14 miles away.

15 minutes of flying time
at 30,000 feet.

We'll have to climb out of here
so fast to get over the summit.

The Sherpas, too,
believe in the magic of this place.

A plunge into the lake
can bring lasting fertility.

Every summer, the Sherpas bring
their yaks

to the high pastures of Gokyo

to fatten them up
for the winter treks ahead

as they ply their trade over
the high mountain passes to Tibet.

The three families of Gokyo village
make a living

from trekkers and from mountaineers

that come through this place
on a daily basis.

We're important to the economy,
really.

When we arrived,
we doubled the population of Gokyo.

I probably have a romantic image
of the Sherpas.

In one hand,
I think their life is simple,

but on another plain, they have
a complex set of demons

that they have to struggle with
every day.

Perhaps their life is just
as complex as ours in another way.

LAUGHTER

Well, the Sherpas of Gokyo

have their fortune tellers
and their mythology and we have ours.

Martin Harris, our weatherman.

Martin arrived at Gokyo
with 18 steel boxes and set up camp.

When Martin spotted the hut
that he wanted,

he quickly had it modified
by two local carpenters

and it became the most sophisticated
meteorological station in Nepal.

He looked after us in 1985.

And for him,
it's unfinished business,

just as much as it is for us.

We've got satellite pictures,
we've got the radiosondes,

we've got weather fax, charts,

such as people have never ever had
up here,

as a meteorological station
near Mount Everest.

We get to see how the jet stream
is developing to the north of us

and how the monsoon
is going away to the south.

What we're basically doing

is looking at a wild animal
in this area.

If the animal wags its tail
or sneezes,

we've got to make sure we monitor it

because that might be
the significant feature.

We've got to lift off
to the next section.

Three, two, one, lift.

Martin has Russian
and American satellites

to look down on the moods
of Sagarmatha.

And radio communications
to anywhere in the world.

This is almost better than I've seen
it put up on a playing field
in England.

There are two assistant
meteorologists, Jackie and Lisa,

to help maintain
a 24-hour weather watch.

RAPID BEEPING

Everyone speaks to their own gods.
We put our faith in technology.

But the Sherpas, they put their faith
in the spirits of the mountains.

Every expedition takes their Sherpa
prayer flags.

And it's really important
to have them blessed

because then we take the blessings
of the local lamas with us

across the mountain as we fly.

TRIBAL SINGING

But you can't live in the Himalayas
without absorbing

some of the spiritual meaning
of the place.

Some of the Sherpas believe

that the head lama
of Tengboche Monastery

has flown across the Himalayas
on one of his previous lives

and left his footprints
in the summit.

And that what we're doing, really,
is just re-enacting that flight.

You look at cultures going back
10,000 years

and the idea of flying
in high places

and gliding above mankind

has always been a very important
part of any culture.

There's nothing more spectacular
than taking the earliest form of
flight

into the Himalayas to the highest
mountain in the world

and really marry together
two mythologies.

The mythology of
Everest and all its history,

together with the history of flight.

The assembly and rehearsal begins
for the big flight.

With all the survival gear
and parachutes on board,

there's little room for the
balloonists in the basket.

Yeah, it's really tight.

If the balloon doesn't raise quickly
enough to get over Everest,

it must be because of a fuel
or burner problem.

In which case, I'll ask Eric
if he'd like to get out.

LAUGHTER

Done.

Yeah. How much gas are you going
to take, Chris?

Er...probably about 500 litres of
fuel, we'll be taking on the flight.

That'll give us hopefully about four
and a half to five hours' duration.

The good news is that the basket's
big enough for me

and we're going to get it up and over
Everest.

The bad news is I'll have to put you
on a platform out here to do
the filming.

I can't get inside because
your ego's too big, Chris.

LAUGHTER

What's this? These are postcards
of the Dalai Lama

if we meet some friendly Tibetans.

The Dalai Lama, huh?
Might give us a free meal.

We have a selection here of, um...

It's currency in Tibet. Yes.

These are some snow stakes,

some figure-of-eight descenders.

Rock pitons, ice pitons.

In here, we have food
for two men for ten days.

We've got some morale boosters,
which include some salami,

cheese and fruit cake
from your loving wife.

Eric Jones is one of the most
experienced mountain climbers
in Europe,

having soloed some of the
most difficult peaks in the Alps.

Well, teaching Andy
a bit of ice climbing

because he hasn't done anything
on ice before.

It's very important for him to know
basic things about the mountains

in case we have an emergency
and come down there.

The only reason we'll bail out
of the balloon

is if there's a fire
in the basket.

And after a fire in the basket, then
mountains are quite tame, really.

At 20,000 feet above Gokyo,

the balloons will take off
very rapidly

towards the summit of Everest.

Our climb rate has to be
at least a thousand feet a minute.

As the balloons climb up towards
Everest,

we don't just have to clear
Everest at 29,000 feet,

which is the height of Everest,

but we have to clear Everest by
another 3,000 or 4,000 feet beyond.

And the reason for that is

this streaming laminar air
that rushes up the face of Everest

explodes like Coca-Cola
out of a bottle behind Everest.

And so there is enormous turbulence
and rotors

that sometimes reach up to 3,000
or 4,000 feet higher than the summit.

And if the balloons are caught in
that rotor,

then we'll be killed,
we'll be destroyed.

Oh, my God, he's dead! Where's the
doctor? Where's the hospital?

Oh, shit!

Now, rule number one, don't panic.

Because if you panic,
you've got two patients.

And two patients
is never better than one.

No matter what your worst fears are,

no-one's dead until I say they're
dead.

So even if there is no heartbeat,
no breathing

and everything looks terrible,

start cardiopulmonary resuscitation.

So it's right there,
leaning forward,

pushing on the heel of the hand...

Dr Glenn Singleman is a specialist
in expedition medicine.

I'll never forget Glenn showing us
the best part of the body to eat.

It's a bit off Chris' backside.

The worst that can happen is that
one of the other people can die.

Just do your best,
whatever that amounts to,

and if the person dies, we'll deal
with that situation later.

Sometimes I look up at those
mountains

and it's almost like as if there
is a spirit of Sagarmatha.

And I talk to it and I say,

"Don't take him away from me.
Give him back. Let him be safe."

They don't care and they don't make
decisions, they just exist.

Mount Everest
grows before your eyes.

The great tectonic plates of India
and Tibet crunching into each other,

grinding the mountain skyward.

And they're forever being worn down
by the glaciers and by the weather.

You can see the moraine moving.

Boulders will crash and tumble,
ice will fall. It's really awesome.

But these mountains have an
insidious power.

Altitude.

At 16,000 feet, it can have dramatic
effects on the body.

What happened to Lisa is to be
a warning to those who would dare
to go higher.

We had to climb 2,500 feet.

I was doing quite well, I was
monitoring my progress compared
to Jackie,

but I thought that my chest
was getting very cold

and the top of my chest was closing
in and getting narrower.

I couldn't breathe,
so that's so distressing

that you have to have
something happen quickly.

OK, start pumping.

Start pumping. Come on, pump.

We put Lisa into a gamma bag.

It reduces the altitude by 5,000 feet
by increasing the pressure.

It's like a portable iron lung.

It helps her breathe
and keeps her alive.

OK. We're at maximum pressure.
Slow down the pumping, Andy.

I was constantly aware that

it was taking another human being to
keep me alive, it wasn't a machine.

But it's just really draining
and distressing

to have to think about breathing.
I mean, you take it for granted.

Now, what's happening is she's
got high-altitude pulmonary oedema.

It's a rather catastrophic change
in your lungs,

where the plasma proteins
leak out inside your lungs

and you actually start drowning
in your own fluid.

It's very easy to die from this
condition. Many people have died.

Because it's deadly
and it happens very suddenly

and you die very quickly.

Lisa spent eight hours in that bag
and it saved her life.

I didn't think about dying at all.

Lisa's crisis brought us all together

and made our differences
seem rather trivial.

Five, four, three, two, one, go.

Ooo! Oh, they've tangled.
Oh, they're separated.

Are they going straight up into that
anabatic flow, up over Gokyo peak?

We monitored the weather daily
with these radiosonde balloons.

Each of them had a radio transmitter

and it would give us the direction
of the wind

and the speed at different altitudes.

That was critical to the success
of the expedition.

There's a one-degree shift
back to the left,

but for the last three minutes,
it's been shifting right.

That is turning probably 260.

We've spent an enormous amount
of money on this project

and that's a pressure
which I hope he isn't feeling,

but I think his main concern is

that he's waited over seven years
to do this flight

and he doesn't want to miss
the chance to do it.

I think if we get that information
consistently

in the next 24-48 hours, we're going.
It's adequate.

But the mountain will not be taken
easily.

After three weeks,
they are still waiting

for the jet stream
to carry them over Everest.

Patience is beginning to wear thin.

I don't like waiting.

Increasing tension,
stress and anxiety

as we just hang about for the right
winds at the right altitude.

There are 20-odd people who are
all contributing in major ways

to the success of the project,

but they're all very different
people,

so there's a lot of clashes of
personality, a lot clashes of ego.

It's most important to be patient
on this kind of expedition

because so much
has been put into it.

The first opportunity to get the
balloon across Everest, we missed.

At 9:00 last night,
I had a flight plan

that would take us three miles south
of Everest.

Six hours later, we've got a flight
plan that will take us four miles
south of Everest.

So basically, in six hours the
distance has deteriorated a mile.

We weren't ready
and we should have been.

I think we're jumping the gun. I
don't think we're mentally prepared.

The team isn't in harmony.
We're not even discussing...

We're 12 hours away from flying

and we're not even discussing
with the four people flying.

The wind's almost on target,

but we're separately doing our own
flight plans.

This is crazy.

We're not working together on this,
and we should be.

It's a team! And you're not playing
as a team player!

As each day went past,

it was becoming more and more
and more dangerous.

The wind speeds at altitude
were becoming so great

that it was jeopardising the safety
of the expedition.

OK to launch. Launching.

We were pretty well wired
to go for tomorrow morning

on information that had come through
yesterday

on the current wind trajectory
at 30,000 feet.

That's deteriorated and it's
continuing to deteriorate.

And it's probable we won't go in
the morning and everyone's upset.

Mason would have done anything.
Moved Everest if he could.

I would say if the situation doesn't
deteriorate from what we've got now,

then I think we should fly tomorrow.

You're happy for us to miss Everest
by five or six miles?

I'm not happy about it, but if we
don't have an alternative

and if the indications are it'll get
worse before it gets better,

if indeed it does get better,
I do have to consider

how much longer
we can spend sitting here waiting.

The defined goal has always been
to fly over Mount Everest.

Anything else
is totally unacceptable.

OK, off she goes.

The next indicator showed the wind
coming back on course for Everest,

and I couldn't believe it.

It felt suddenly that it was all
coalescing.

I'm just looking down
at the radiosondes

and we needed to take quite
a few of them during the night

because we've reached a crucial
decision stage in the project.

RAPID BEEPING

After a month in Gokyo,

when the waiting seemed like it
would never end...

..the weather balloon,
the satellite picture

and the high altitude wind forecasts

all started to say the same thing.

The next morning would be clear
for takeoff.

After ten years of waiting,
the moment had arrived.

The perfect morning.

Now the urgency was to take off

before the sun heated the land

and created the first
thermal breezes.

I knew the moment I stepped into
the balloon, I would focus.

But that hour prior to takeoff
was very frightening to me

because we were launching balloons
so close to Everest

and I knew there was no turning back
once we'd got off the ground.

I feel like an astronaut
on countdown.

The button's been pressed.

The biggest fear for me
is the half-hour leading up to

the actual start
of whatever you're doing.

I get really scared.

It's quite difficult
to control yourself.

In the half an hour
when pre-breathing oxygen,

I was really just trying to keep
calm, organised and together.

But there was a moment
there when I thought,

"Maybe I shouldn't do this."

I'm very pleased. It's looking good.

It's looking good.

The hotter it is outside,

the hotter you've got to make
your balloon to fly.

The atmospheric temperature
was much higher than we expected.

I think we probably had a little bit
too much weight on board, as well.

I found that I had a balloon that
was operating so hot

that we were in a very dangerous
situation of losing it.

And I thought,
"Well, we either abort or we go.

"And if we go, I've got to coax
this balloon

"over Everest
without it falling apart."

And I made that decision
just on takeoff.

It was a tremendous relief
when I saw Bish

get this suspended camera box
finally in place.

That was at least half my reason
for being there,

was to have the automatic cameras
recording this flight.

Heather had already decided I was
doing it and she got on with her job.

I don't think she really realised
how worried I was.

There will come a moment

when the connection between me
and Chris is just gone.

This is necessary
for Chris' survival.

Yes, I suppose dying
is a very real possibility.

Be careful!

Don't do anything I wouldn't do!

What?
Don't do anything I wouldn't do!

If anything happens to Leo,
it's meant to happen

and there's nothing I can do
to change it. It's fate.

It's a golden moment for anyone

to take a balloon over the summit
of Mount Everest.

It was the moment of truth.
We were taking off into the void.

We knew not where we would end up.

We knew not what would happen to us.

It was a very stressful moment.

It was a wonderful moment, too.

FAINT SHOUTING

Three years...three years and God
knows how many weeks waiting here,

and look, isn't that beautiful?

May the winds welcome you
with softness,

may the sun bless you
with his warm hands,

may you fly so high and so well

that God will join you
in your laughter

and send you gently back into
the loving arms of Mother Earth.

Good luck, guys! Good luck!

SOBBING

The last time I saw Andy
was two minutes after takeoff.

I looked down and he'd left.

And figured that,
"He'll be here shortly."

And that was my last thoughts,
really, about Andy and his balloon.

Andy and I didn't have
good communication going.

And if there was any reason
why the two balloons separated

and one went in front of the other,
that was the reason.

You really don't want to operate
a balloon hotter than about

140 degrees Celsius
for any length of time at all.

I'm absolutely convinced our balloon
temperature was well over 160,

probably closer to 170,

because the needle actually went off
the end of the dial.

So I was incredibly worried that we
would lose the top of the balloon

at any stage during the flight.

That it would just fall out.

When you're looking at Mount Everest

and it looks like this huge
black pyramid,

I thought to myself,
"Oh, just like a shark's fin!"

And then I thought, "I wonder
if that's my own conscience

"just poking a little shark's fin
through into the here and now?"

But that pyramid increased
dramatically in size

as we flew directly towards
the summit.

It enlarged and enlarged
and enlarged. It was enormous!

My instruments were saying that we
were going to get up and over the
summit of Everest,

but my instincts were very doubtful
about that.

I was driven by an unresolved demon
somewhere in my spirit.

It was almost as if I wanted to look
down on the summit of Everest,

to scour the summit for the remains
of Mallory and Irvine.

To look for all those expedition
climbers that have been lost
on Everest.

RADIO: "All stations,
this is Star Flyer One.

"We're just crossing Everest now.
Does anyone copy?"

We crossed Everest and we enjoyed
that moment of splendour.

That incredible, magical moment.
One we'll never see again.

Leo insisted on shaking hands
in true British tradition,

so of course, I complied with that.
That was fair enough.

HE LAUGHS

The balloon is revolving
all the time

and it's giving me
this fantastic panorama to film

eight of the world's
highest mountains.

As we flashed over the summit
at 100 kilometres an hour

and I looked back on to the Hillary
Step and onto the summit itself,

it became a totally different
mountain.

It was so bright and it was
so different from the other side,

I'd thought we'd lost Everest.

It was all white and crystalline
and beautiful and fluted.

It was like rowing across
the River Styx in Greek mythology,

coming from the underworld
to the real world.

And it really felt like that.

It was like going from the dark,
black, forbidding area

of the west side of Everest

to this beautiful, illuminated summit
of a fluted mountain.

It was really quite
a phenomenal feeling.

Leo turned around to me
as we passed Everest at 34,000 feet,

running his finger across his throat,
saying he was out of air.

I knew he wasn't out of air, but it
did mean that he had hypoxia.

I wanted to see how bad it was,

so I asked him
what his date of birth was.

And he said his name was Leo.

I knew it was pretty serious then.
Huh!

Instead of doing what I wanted you
to do, which was give me more air,

you came up with a real dumb
question and you asked me my name.

I thought, "I think Chris must be
hypoxic.

"Why does he want to know my name?
He must know who I am."

When I asked you the question
about your birth date

and you came out with your answer,
I thought,

"Why is he giving me his star sign?"

HE LAUGHS

Because he came out with, "Leo,"
I thought, "This is really weird!"

I'm clearly dissatisfied
with the answers I'm getting,

so I carry on filming.

LAUGHTER

RADIO: "This is Star Flyer One
on 199.7.

"At the moment,
we're crossing Ama Dablam.

"I'm almost out of fuel

"and we'll probably be landing
just south of Roxar.

"Do you copy that message?"

If he was happy, I was happy
and I'd keep filming.

But Chris seemed to
be getting more and more agitated.

It was because we were running short
of fuel.

And we had to find somewhere to land
very, very quickly.

And the options open to you
in the middle of Tibet,

just on the other side of Everest,
are fairly minimal.

Chris said to me, "We're looking
for somewhere to land quite soon."

I said, "How soon?"
He said, "A matter of minutes."

It was only just going to do it.

And I put the balloon into
a rapid descent,

but we spun like a top
on the way down.

RADIO: "This is Star Flyer One
on 199.7. Anyone receiving me?

"I'm almost out of fuel

"and we'll probably be landing
just south of Roxar.

"Do you copy that message?"

You could see these tiny little
yak pastures

and a road that led into them.

All right, Leo, I told you
I would land us on a road!

Not bad, huh?

Not bad, mate. All is forgiven.

And you sort of expand your whole
consciousness as you're descending

to let yourself become
the whole balloon.

It gives you a much better feeling
of where you're going.

Coming in to land, Leo!

I slowed the descent rate down
to 300 feet a minute,

about 300 feet above the ground

and scooted in into
a ground surface wind

of about 30 kilometres an hour,

which is really too fast
to land in safely.

Is it going to be hard?

Well, the problem is, during
the flight, I burnt my rip line.

Oh, here it is!

I saw this mountainous moraine wall

approaching us at about 15 miles
an hour

and it's full of huge boulders.

FAINT SHOUTING

FAINT SHOUTING

Get off! Get off!

Chris fell on top of me
and I had to push him off.

Oh, hell, we're going up again!

Suddenly, we're 90 feet
off the ground again.

Chris is trying to relight the
burners, but it's far, far too late.

So we're going to hit another wall
now.

A bigger one...and harder.

And out of control.

For a split-second, I thought,
"My cameras are out there.

"I should have brought them in.
Too late."

Chris was starting to brace himself

against the opposite side
of the basket.

That told me more than he could have
explained in words.

This isn't going to be
a normal landing.

I was catapulted
from the bottom of the basket

right over the side,
in the way that we were going.

Chris?!

Where are you?

Chris?

Hello?

COUGHING

Oh!

Ah! It's so painful coughing.

Hello, please come in.

We have crash-landed rather heavily,
a balloon.

Two miles from the road.
Come in, please.

God knows where Andy and Eric are.

I'm actually at the point
where we landed

and we've moved boulders
a yard across. That was the impact.

Oh, God, Chris,
why did you do this to me?

All I wanted was a quiet flight over
Mount Everest.

Well, I want to walk
to where the balloon is

just to see its final resting place.

I can't get enough air in!

Oh! God, it's painful!

Everything's disappeared now.

Chris has disappeared
off the face of the earth.

You can't believe this landscape.
It looks like the moon.

But the bloody balloon went on and
on and on, like a ping-pong ball.

It threw us out as if it was angry.

As if somehow we'd gone across
Everest,

we'd done what we wanted to do,

but the gods weren't happy

and it shook the balloon to bits.

It is completely and utterly
destroyed.

My 16mm Aaton is destroyed,
but it still runs.

It's not looking totally sharp,
but I've shot a bit of film.

Oh, dear.

Anyway, we're lucky.

We have achieved our goal,
we flew over Mount Everest.

Beautiful.

But the damage to the balloon
and the equipment,

that's going to cost a lot.

Oh, shit!

I can now see the balloon basket

surrounded by a dozen Tibetans

who have never seen a balloon
before.

And I personally never want to see
another one.

The end of a two-mile...drag.

Hundreds of thousands of pounds'
worth of damage.

The end of a long road.

And now it ends here,
with a broken rib

and...a lot of pain.

But a lot of enjoyment.

I suppose, in retrospect.

SOBBING

And I thought he must have been
in a lot of pain.

He was crying because of the pain.

He said, "No, no, it's not
the pain," he said,

"It's just a 10-year project
that's now over

"and I don't know where to go
from here."

You know, that was really something
very special to get that from Leo.

And I think the Tibetans who were
around, too,

were fairly shaken, perhaps,
by the fact that

here was this westerner that had
dropped out of the skies

and sat down on the ground
and started to cry.

It was really quite beautiful.

It's pretty emotional.
I haven't cried, even when my father
and mother died.

I thought I couldn't cry again.

And it had stopped
and it looked so sad,

this balloon that had taken us
so far, so high.

It was just there, dead.

And I think it was part of me
that was in sympathy with it.

It was just the end of a...
It was the end of the story.

But I think to walk away from
a balloon landing like this one

where we hit at 30 kilometres an hour
just with a bit of gear damage,

was really a pretty cheap price.

Oh, the gods were very kind to us.

It could have been a lot worse.

Andy and Eric flew directly over
Mount Everest, too.

But they almost lost their lives

when their burner went out
four times.

And in saving themselves, they burnt
the balloon control wires.

But they eventually managed to make
a perfect landing in the next valley

10 miles away.

I never felt that we'd been
in a race, but there was no way

I was going to let Andy beat me
over Everest, that's for sure! Huh!