Tadhg Gahan: The Man Who Brought Tom Crean's Story to Life

Discovering "Polar Crean"

Through my father, who had family in Annascaul, it was back in the early 1980s that I became aware of the former owner of a bar located at the bottom of the village called South Pole Inn. Tom Crean had served with both Scott and Shackleton in Antarctica, and I was later able to put some meat on the bones of the exploits of the man known locally as Tom The Pole, after happening upon a comprehensive 30-page article titled "Polar Crean," published in the Capuchin Annual in 1952.

I paid little attention to the name of the author back then, but fast-forward 30-plus years, and trying to discover who Denis Barry was proved as elusive as a pink elephant. I searched high and low for information about him but nothing turned up — until, by sheer chance, I came upon the reason why my searches had proven futile. The name was a pseudonym. Dublin-born Tadhg Gahan was the real man behind it.

The story of the man who chose to write under the name of another was almost as illuminating to me as Tom Crean's story itself — but rather than being the spoiler for a story that I've included in the biography, I'll remain on topic for the purpose of this particular post.

A Son's Gratitude

Tadhg passed away in 1962. In 2021, his son emailed me to say he'd visited this website and, after reading a blog I'd written, was contacting me to thank me for referencing his father as the first person to write a dedicated account of Crean's story. I was delighted to learn that Tadhg's son approved of me revealing that his father was the man who'd written the article, and I was equally pleased for the sense of pride he must have felt knowing that his father was now credited as the first person to bring the story of Tom Crean's time in Antarctica to the attention of readers.

Since that time, myself and Tadhg Gahan's son have struck up a great connection and we correspond often. Our chats have helped me get a deeper understanding of why Tadhg wrote Tom Crean's story — like everyone else, he was left awestruck after becoming aware of Crean's incredible acts of heroism.

In 2023, after Merrion Press released my biography of Tom Crean, I sent Tadhg's son a copy, to which I'd added a personal note of thanks in recognition of his father. After receiving and reading it, his son sent me a lovely reply and informed me of his father's collection of books related to the expeditions. It became clear to me that Tadhg had been a huge admirer of Antarctic exploration in general.

An Unexpected and Treasured Gift

I was completely taken by surprise when Tadhg's son, in a follow-up correspondence, said he'd like me to have his father's book collection. Despite conveying to him my sense of unworthiness at the prospect of receiving such treasured family mementoes, he insisted it was his wish. And so I humbly accepted, feeling utterly privileged at such a thoughtful and kind gesture.

The books arrived and, as you can see in the images here, they are a varied set of Polar volumes. Tadhg, through his passion to cement Tom Crean's story into history, became an eager reader, student, and no doubt an authority on Antarctic exploration in general.

Treasures Hidden in the Pages

Among the nuggets of history found inside the pages of the volumes was one such example written in Heart of the Antarctic, the book that relays Shackleton's expedition aboard Nimrod — the mission in which he came within 97.5 nautical miles of the South Pole. It transpires that Tadhg, in 1958 at the Gresham Hotel in Dublin, met with Felix Rooney, crew member and fireman aboard the ship. Scotsman Felix was from Govan, and he would describe the journey south aboard Nimrod as being "so rough, the ship would roll the milk out of your tea." The date of their meeting, accompanied by Felix's signature, is recorded in the front matter of the book.

In a separate package, which arrived some time later, lay, for me personally, the jewel in the crown of this wonderful collection — a copy of South With Scott, written by Edward Evans and dedicated to Tom Crean and William Lashly as a gesture of gratitude for saving his life in what was an act of unparalleled bravery on the coldest and most inhospitable place on earth.

Sifting through the front matter of the book, I saw that Tadhg had recorded two of his meetings, again with signatures. Both a 1948 meeting with Robert Forde, and a visit to Annascaul to meet up with Tom Crean's wife, were dated and signed by each.

Just to hold this book, knowing the hands it had been in — under the care of the man who travelled so far in mind and body in his efforts to record the story of the Antarctic pioneers — felt very special indeed.

During his meeting with Forde in 1949, Tadhg took the opportunity to ask Forde's expert assistance in identifying the crew members in a particular photograph within the book. To remember the names, Tadhg's technique was to number each man's position as they stood, as can be seen below.

A Labour-Intensive Work of Love

Thanks to the books, notes, and sketches that accompany Tadhg's research, there's an almost tangible sense of the lengths he went to in order to chronicle the first dedicated account of a person he held in such huge admiration. The piece he eventually published in the Capuchin Annual conveys his meticulous research of the expeditions, his labours and extensive travels in attempting to discover what shaped the man Tom Crean was, and the natural, warm, and appealing flow of his writing style.

A half century before archives — both the bricks-and-mortar kind and digital records — were opened up and made more easily accessible to researchers, it's entirely understandable to discover a couple of small inaccuracies. But the reason for both instances can easily be explained.

I'm sure Tadhg Gahan himself would have shied away from any acknowledgement or praise for his work. But I felt it absolutely necessary to reveal, and to give credit to, the person behind the pseudonym — the man who first brought Tom Crean's story to the attention of the world, decades before the rest of it caught up.

Tadhg brings his account, Polar Crean, to a close by telling his readers the location of the little graveyard where Crean was buried. He then finishes with the line "I nOileán Parrthais go raibh a anam" — "In the Isle of Paradise that his soul was." It's a fitting ending for the Antarctic hero who, throughout his extensive travels, carried his beloved country with him.