I didn't think I would be alive. I thought I would perish.
On the same date Edmund Hillary first stood atop the world, a Nepali guide named Dawa Sherpa disappeared into Everest's silence at 7,600 metres and was given up for dead. Six days later, sustained by pocket chocolates, melted ice, and a lifetime of mountain knowledge, he crawled into base camp — a survival experts call without precedent at such altitude. His ordeal illuminates both the extraordinary resilience of those who have made the Himalayas their home for generations, and the quieter, more troubling question of whose lives the mountain's rescue machinery moves fastest to save.
- A 52-year-old Nepali guide vanished near Everest's Yellow Band as the climbing season closed, with his family already preparing for his funeral.
- Trapped in a crevasse for two and a half days without oxygen, food, or realistic hope of rescue, Dawa faced conditions that should have been fatal.
- An avalanche that could have buried him instead carved his escape route — he climbed out on a ramp of fallen snow and navigated the dismantled Khumbu Icefall through the night.
- Airlifted to Kathmandu with frostbite, severe dehydration, and a fractured bone, Dawa told the BBC he had fully expected to die on the mountain.
- Experts credit his survival to instinctive descent strategy and Sherpa physiological heritage — calling it, plainly, unprecedented.
- His family's relief has curdled into grievance: a police case now alleges the rescue response was slower than it would have been for a foreign climber, forcing a reckoning with equity on the world's highest peak.
Dawa Sherpa was descending Everest on May 29 when he became separated from his group near Yellow Band, at roughly 7,600 metres. The 52-year-old Nepali guide — nicknamed after Edmund Hillary — simply disappeared. His family began funeral preparations. Six days later, he crawled into base camp.
What kept him alive was almost absurdly thin. After falling into a crevasse, he lay trapped for two and a half days with no oxygen, no food, and no expectation of rescue. For the first two days he ate nothing. Then he began chewing ice for moisture. When an avalanche struck, the falling snow created a ramp out of the crevasse. He climbed free, found abandoned ropes on the mountain, and descended further. He navigated the Khumbu Icefall through the night — its fixed ladders and ropes already removed, the season officially over — and reached base camp. Doctors in Kathmandu found him suffering from severe dehydration, frostbite, and a fractured bone.
From his hospital bed, Dawa said he had not expected to survive. Experts agreed his survival was without precedent. Pemba Sherpa of 8K Expeditions called it flatly a miracle. Simon Balderstone, a veteran Everest climber, explained that Dawa would have understood instinctively the only treatment available to him: descend. Descent is the sole remedy for the cerebral edema that kills at extreme altitude. That knowledge, combined with a lifetime of physical conditioning in Nepal's mountains, gave him advantages no amount of equipment could replicate.
In a strange coincidence, Dawa vanished exactly 73 years after Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay first reached Everest's summit on May 29, 1953. His family demanded photographs before they believed he was alive. But their relief has been shadowed by anger. They have filed a police case against his employer, alleging the search effort was delayed — that a foreign climber's disappearance would have triggered a faster response. The question of who gets rescued, and how quickly, now hangs over the mountain alongside everything else.
Dawa Sherpa was descending Mount Everest on May 29 when he separated from his climbing group near Yellow Band, a landmark above Camp Three at roughly 7,600 metres. The 52-year-old Nepali guide, also known as Hillary Dawa Sherpa after the legendary mountaineer Edmund Hillary, simply vanished into the mountain's final days of spring climbing season. His family began funeral preparations. Six days later, he crawled into base camp.
What kept him alive was almost absurdly thin: a handful of chocolates he found in his pocket, and the will to descend. After becoming separated, Dawa fell into a crevasse and remained trapped for two and a half days. He had no oxygen supply, no food, and no realistic expectation of rescue. For the first two days he ate nothing. Then he began chewing ice, grinding it between his teeth despite the pain, extracting what moisture he could. The cold was absolute. The altitude—well above 20,000 feet, where the human body begins to deoxygenate—should have killed him.
Then an avalanche struck. Snow thundered into the crevasse where he lay, and in that moment of catastrophe, Dawa saw an opening. The falling snow had created a ramp. He climbed out. He found ropes abandoned on the mountain and used them to descend further. Another avalanche hit as he moved downward. He walked through the night, navigating the Khumbu Icefall—a maze of collapsing ice blocks and hidden chasms—even though the fixed ladders and ropes that normally guide climbers through it had been removed days earlier, the season officially over. He reached base camp and was airlifted to a Kathmandu hospital, where doctors found him suffering from severe dehydration, frostbite, and a fractured bone.
From his hospital bed, Dawa told the BBC what he had thought during those six days: "I didn't think I would be alive. I thought I would perish this way." His survival has been called unprecedented. Pemba Sherpa, executive director of 8K Expeditions, which coordinated aerial search efforts, said flatly: "As far as I know, no one has survived alone at that altitude on Everest so far. This is a miracle to have survived for six days alone and descended safe."
Chris Thrall, a British climber who was the last person known to see Dawa alive, had faced an impossible choice on the descent. Thrall had been guiding a Polish climber, Mariusz Chmielewski, who had no oxygen and severe frostbite—a man at immediate risk of hypothermia. Dawa had been resting on his backpack just ahead. Thrall asked if he was okay. Dawa said yes, told him to go on. Thrall descended with the Polish climber. When he looked back up the mountain, Dawa was gone. "In none of that time at all when I looked back up the mountain did I see Hillary descend," Thrall said. "To say serious alarm bells were ringing, as in I think the worst has happened, would be an understatement."
Experts attribute Dawa's survival to something more than luck. Simon Balderstone, who was part of the first Australian expedition to Everest in 1984, explained that Dawa would have understood instinctively what he needed to do: descend. Resting when possible, moving when he could, always going down. Descent is the only treatment for cerebral edema, the life-threatening swelling of the brain that occurs at extreme altitude when oxygen is scarce. "To crawl down and even get through the icefall without the ladders there is a major achievement," Balderstone said. "For him to survive like that, it's almost unheard of."
Ang Tshering Sherpa, a leading figure in Nepal's mountaineering community, noted that Dawa's ethnic heritage and upbringing gave him advantages others would not have. "Sherpas are built tough growing up in the mountains," he said. "If it were someone else in Dawa's place, they might not have survived." The Sherpa people, descendants of Tibetan heritage, have lived in Nepal's mountains for generations. When Nepal opened its borders in the 1950s, their natural stamina and mountain knowledge made them invaluable as guides and porters. Today they lead the Himalayan climbing business, often at grave personal risk.
Dawa comes from Okhaldhunga, south of Everest, and works for a small Kathmandu company called Himalayan Traverse. He has several years of experience guiding on Everest. In a strange coincidence, he went missing exactly 73 years after Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay Sherpa became the first people to reach Everest's summit on May 29, 1953. When his family learned he had been found alive, they asked for photographs before they believed it. But their relief has been shadowed by anger. Dawa's family has filed a police case against Himalayan Traverse, alleging that the search effort was delayed—that if a foreign climber had gone missing, rescue would have been organized far more quickly. The question of who gets rescued, and how fast, hangs over the mountain.
Notable Quotes
As far as I know, no one has survived alone at that altitude on Everest so far. This is a miracle to have survived for six days alone and descended safe.— Pemba Sherpa, executive director of 8K Expeditions
Sherpas are built tough growing up in the mountains. If it were someone else in Dawa's place, they might not have survived.— Ang Tshering Sherpa, leading figure in Nepal's mountaineering community
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
What made the difference between Dawa dying up there and crawling back down?
Honestly, it was probably three things working together. The chocolates bought him a few calories. The avalanche that trapped him also freed him—it created a way out of the crevasse. But the real thing was that he knew what to do. Descend. Rest when you can. Keep moving down.
But he had no oxygen. Wasn't that a death sentence at that altitude?
It should have been. Most people would have died. But Dawa grew up in those mountains. His body is adapted to thin air in ways most climbers' bodies aren't. And he understood the mountain in a way you can only understand something you've lived with your whole life.
The British climber, Thrall—he had to choose between going back for Dawa and helping the Polish climber who was in immediate danger.
Right. And he chose the man who was actively dying in front of him. That's not a moral failure. That's the brutal arithmetic of the mountain. But it meant Dawa was alone, and no one knew he was still alive.
So when Dawa's family filed a complaint about the delayed search, what were they really saying?
They were saying that Dawa's life was worth less because he's Nepali, because he's a guide, not a client. If a foreign climber had vanished, helicopters would have been in the air immediately. But Dawa—he was expected to know the mountain, to take care of himself. The mountain doesn't care about that distinction.
Do you think he knew, during those six days, that he might actually make it?
I don't think so. He said himself he thought he would perish. But he moved anyway. He chewed ice. He found ropes. He walked through the night. Maybe that's what survival is—not believing you'll make it, but moving as if you might.