Vale: Flaxton explorer Syd Kirkby finishes his epic journey

Sydney Kirkby shall be missed but his many accomplishments endure.

Vale Sydney Lorrimar Kirkby AO, MBE
by Brad Drew

Sometime during the night hours bridging Sunday 7 July and Monday 8 July 2024, the final page of this extraordinary man’s life was turned, the lamps dimmed and the book closed. No bells rang out, for such was the self-containment and overall quiet modesty of this wonderful man that a ringing of the hour would be unnecessary and below his dignity.

He was born to explore and, in defiance of the lifelong disability to his mobility – a gift of childhood polio – Sydney Lorrimar Kirkby as a young man joined the surveying mapping team at Australia’s Mawson Station in Antarctica in its young days … and that defined the balance of his life, as was celebrated by The Australian newspaper at the dawning of the current millennium, naming him as one of the ten greatest Australian adventurers of the twentieth century.

Towering stature, many awards

Along that journey, he collected a host of awards and medals for his services across the fields of surveying and exploration, including an MBE in 1966 and AO in 2018, and the forever honour of having a significant number of South Polar features named after him.

In spite of this towering stature, to those of us who knew him, he maintained the quiet dignity of one who knows himself, and that is surely enough. I have had the great pleasure and honour of knowing him as a friend these past twenty-odd years, enjoying the light of his huge intellect and skill as an occasional raconteur. His friendship has ever been comfortable, warm and genuine, and I thank him for that.

As first his hearing, then mine diminished with age, reducing us to adopting hearing aids which always seem imperfect, we were able to commiserate, with his sardonic intoning of ‘You know, Brad, the trouble with becoming deaf is, suddenly everyone thinks you’re stupid.’ In spite of this, his diction always remained strong, clear and distinct, which is what other hearing-impaired mortals need in order to happily converse.

I feel fortunate and blessed to have managed to visit him at Selangor in those final few weeks, finding him cheerful, happily sunbathing in his side chair with the light pouring in on him, a wealth of trees framing his view … and his radio tuned to Radio National blasting out at full volume.

It was not a formal goodbye but, as happened, it was to be goodbye, and I consider myself fortunate to have been there to see him one last time. 

He shall be missed, but his many achievements endure.