means of reference. Then, each winter they applied to the Geographic Board of Canada to formally register the names, complete with the requisite information about location, elevation, distance, extent and so on. Most of the names they proposed were descriptive in the sense that they recorded a characteristic in each name. Mountains gained names such as Stupendous, Silverthrone, Dauntless, Whitetip, Combatant, Whitemantle, Finality, and Monarch. Glaciers received names such as Marvel, Scimitar, Ice Valley, Chaos, Splinter, and Portal, while creeks became Fissure, Crevice, Scar, Tumult, and Fury. According to Phyl, the government accepted almost all of the Mundays’ nomenclature submissions. In 1928, to honour Phyl and Don, the Board designated a mountain adjacent to Waddington as Mount Munday (elevation 3505 metres). Naturally, one of the first things Phyl and Don did was to ensure that they were the very first to climb their own mountain.
Photography was a big part of their exploration documentation. Phyl was the principal photographer, starting as she did with a standard no-frills camera she described as an “ordinary Brownie with a click.” She graduated to a bellows camera with a good English lens, and then, as she required more detail, especially for her photos of flowers, she handled an Exakta with an exposure meter. For obvious reasons, she did not progress into large box cameras even though their large format allowed a greater range in image quality. A thirty-kilogram backpack was enough weight and bulk without adding such a fragile and bulky camera. They set up a darkroom in their house so Don could develop the film. Phyl generally did the printing, often with Edith assisting. Don also built an enlarger so they could control the entire photographic process and crop, enlarge, and print as they desired.
An important use of Phyl’s photography was in public education. She was a popular speaker and developed lantern slide shows to accompany her words. Lantern slides, a predecessor to thirty-five-millimetre photographic slides, were made of transparencies sandwiched between pieces of glass to form a slide. With the aid of a magnifying glass, Phyl painstakingly hand coloured the lantern slides, which were black and white. She soon specialized in detailed and very fine nature photography, for which she received much acclaim. She was in great demand for lectures on the beauties of nature and spoke on such topics such as alpine flora and fauna, mushrooms and fungi, snow scenery, and glaciation. Phyl worked hard to convey the wonders of nature to her audiences and to illustrate what she saw as Gods gift to humanity. She wanted people to look beyond the pretty pictures to a more profound understanding of the fragility of nature and the interdependence of species.
Preparing for the climbing season, Phyl and Don made sure that all their camping gear was in tiptop condition and that any rips or weaknesses were repaired. They rewaterproofed their “bone dry” clothing and the tent, renailed and waterproofed their boots, examined pack-boards for weaknesses, and checked over all the cooking supplies. One important task was to experiment with foodstuffs and find some new combinations for meals. Phyl dried apples and other fruits; she planned the menus and estimated the quantities of food they would need for a thirty- or forty-day expedition. The climbers had to carry everything in, so to avoid needless packing it was important to be accurate in estimating requirements. By the same token it was wise to plan for unexpected emergencies, to ensure some flexibility so that rations might extend longer if required. Over the winter they assembled the foods. Many items such as custard powder, tomatoes, peaches, meatballs, salmon, sardines, peas, and jam they purchased tinned. The tins were a natural for rough going because they did not easily break. As plastics had not yet come into use, perishables such as the flour, rolled oats, cornmeal, rice, sugar, butter, and cheese were repackaged into a homemade system of waterproof bags. Phyl melted wax in an old baking pan and then dipped cotton bags in it. When dry, these waxed bags would then be filled and placed into empty four-pound jam tins for extra waterproofing, or tied tight and packed in boxes ready for the boat. Cheese, macaroni, beans, nuts, chocolate, coffee, dried fruits and dried eggs all had to be stored and transported in such a way that they were protected from rain, ocean spray, river water, and humidity. The climbers’ very lives depended on the food they packed in, and all care was taken to ensure its safety.
Although some of their climbing companions complained that on Munday expeditions, the food lacked a certain variety after several weeks, Phyl had the art of campfire cooking down to a science. In time, her cooking even gained legendary status. She created a combination of bannock and pancakes known as “panics” and was known to always slip a treat or two into a meal at just the time when a simple thing such as a piece of canned fruit or a raisin-filled tapioca pudding really made the difference to an exhausted climbing group. In 1934 Don and a younger friend, Pip Brock, penned the following limerick in her honour.
There once was a lady named Phyllis,
Who did her goldarndest to fill us,
When we reached the last bite
We were filled up so tight,
That we thought she was trying to kill us.
12
Climbing on Alone
At the outset of the Second World War in 1939 Phyllis Munday joined the St. John Ambulance Brigade and volunteered to teach first aid classes. By May the following year, the Provincial Superintendent of Nursing asked Phyl to organize a nursing division of the Brigade in North Vancouver. Never one to decline a challenge, Phyl agreed to this one and accepted an appointment as Lady Superintendent of the 68th Nursing Division. Although she was not a nurse, Phyl knew her way around hospitals and also understood the importance of home nursing, which would be the emphasis in this position. She took courses in air raid protection and civil defence and in turn taught these courses along with first aid. She held the position for nine years with a small but effective group of nurses and an excellent doctor. As the war went on, Phyl added to her workload. She also maintained three first aid posts, which took up three nights a week, and did blood groupings. Even Phyl admitted that it was an extremely busy time. She had no car and would not own one until she was in her seventies. All her back and forth was accomplished by walking (for which she was renowned) and relying upon the rather inadequate streetcar service.
In 1982, Phyl Munday, then almost eighty-eight years old, returned to
the Homathko Icefield by helicopter, courtesy of the television show
“Thrill of a Lifetime.”
In the spring of 1948, massive rains and a melting snowpack caused the Fraser River to flood its banks. Although a system of dikes had been constructed for just such an eventuality, widespread property damage occurred from Chilliwack westward along the huge river delta. Many farms and rural settlements were flooded out, and as the river continued to rise, the province was on high alert. The St. John first aiders contributed assistance. Phyl helped patrol the Queensborough area by walking the shoreline and the dikes to check for weaknesses or leaks.
Finally the river crested. The worst of the damage had been done. Together, Phyl and her sister Betty McCallum spent ten days on flood duty at Durieu at the head of the completely flooded Hatzic Prairie. They travelled by fisherman’s gas boat over all the fences and hay fields. Their job was to look after the welfare of the people and to administer first aid as needed. It was to be many days until the waters receded and the rebuilding commenced.
In 1949 Phyl received a promotion, to Provincial Superintendent of Nursing Divisions (Betty would then assume Phyl’s former position). The same year she co-ordinated the St. John appeal for North Vancouver, to solicit funds for ski patrols on Hollyburn Mountain. She had seemingly endless resources of energy and commitment. As in her Guiding work and mountaineering, Phyl never did anything half way. She was fully committed and fully participatory.
At the age of twenty-three, Edith fell in love, and in April 1944 she married a Royal Air Force flight