THE ANTARCTIC CIRCLE
The continuous bad weather was attributed by some on board to the
fact that we had captured an albatross on the second day out. It is
generally supposed by seamen to be unlucky to kill this bird, but as
we did it for the purposes of scientific collections and not with
the wantonness of the "Ancient Mariner," the superstitious must seek
another reason for the bad weather.
The storm increased until, by midnight on the 6th, the squalls were
of hurricane force, and the morning of the 7th brought no relief.
Seas came on board with more frequency than ever, finding out any odd
article that had escaped our vigilance. At one time a sack of potatoes
was washed on to the deck and the contents were floating in two or
three feet of water, but standing on the poop I heard one of the crew,
in no way disheartened, singing, as he gathered them up, "Here we go
gathering nuts in May."
On the evening of January 8, the gale was so terrific that we had
to signal to the _Koonya_ to heave to. We did this with the sea on
our starboard quarter, and one enormous wave smashed in part of the
starboard bulwarks and did much--though happily no vital--damage. The
galley was washed out and the fire extinguished, but so pluckily did
the members of the cooking department work that never during this
most uncomfortable time were we without a warm meal. This was really
a great feat considering that the galley was only five feet square,
and thirty-nine persons blessed with very hearty appetites had to be
provided for.
To show what a state we were in I may mention that in the wardroom I
salved a small wooden case from the water, and found that it contained
a patent mixture for extinguishing fires!
At noon on January 11 we were in latitude 57° 38′ South, and longitude
178° 39′ West, but the weather, which had moderated for a day or
two, again became as bad as ever. We had imagined that we might find
difficulty in cleaning out the stables, but the herculean waves settled
that difficulty in a most arbitrary and thorough manner.
On the 13th we had a warmer and pleasanter day than any we had
experienced since leaving Lyttelton, and the whole vessel began to
look like a veritable Petticoat Lane. Pyjamas and pillows of pulp
that had once been pillows of feathers, books and boots, coats and
carpet-slippers were lying in a mass on the poop deck so that they
might dry. A few of us ventured on baths, but in the open air and with
the temperature only two degrees above freezing-point it was chilly
work.
We were now keeping a sharp look-out for icebergs and pack, and the
meeting with the pack-ice was to terminate the _Koonya's_ tow; and that
meant parting with Buckley, who had endeared himself to every one on
board, and who had been of the greatest assistance in the matter of the
ponies.
Next morning, January 14, we sighted our first iceberg. It had all
the usual characteristics of the Antarctic bergs, being practically
tabular in form, and its sides being of a dead white colour. During the
afternoon we passed two more icebergs with their usual tails of brash
ice floating out to leeward. The sea had changed colour from a leaden
blue to a greenish-grey, albatrosses were not nearly so numerous,
and the temperature of the air and water had dropped to 32° Fahr.
Everything pointed to our nearness to the pack, and on the next morning
we saw the ice looming up through the mist to the southward.
[Illustration: Pushing through heavy Floes in the Ross Sea. The
dark line on the Horizon is a "Water Sky," and indicated the Existence
of Open Sea]
Now had come the time for the _Koonya_ to drop us, after a tow of 1510
miles--a record in towage for a vessel not built for the purpose--and
before the _Koonya_ finally cast off from us, she had achieved another
record by being the first steel vessel to cross the Antarctic Circle.
About 10 A.M. I decided to send Captain England across to the _Koonya_
with Buckley and the mail, our letters being stamped with the special
stamp given by the New Zealand Government. As the sea was rising again
we lost no time in making the necessary communication by boat between
the two ships, and during a favourable roll the whale-boat was dropped
into the water, and Buckley--with his week-end handbag--jumped into
her. About a quarter to one Captain Evans signalled that he was going
to cut his hawser, for in the rising sea the two vessels were in
dangerous proximity to each other.
We saw the axe rise and fall, rise and fall again, and the tie was
severed. The _Koonya's_ work was done, and at last the _Nimrod_ was
dependent upon her own resources. Our consort steamed round us, all
hands on both ships cheering; then her bows were set north and she
vanished into a grey, snowy mist, homeward bound. All that afternoon
we unremittingly toiled to get in the cable link by link, and by seven
o'clock we were able to proceed and to put the ship's head due south.
By 2 A.M. on January 16, the bergs were much more numerous, but none of
the ice we passed through at this time had the slightest resemblance to
pack-ice. An hour later we entered an area of tabular bergs, varying
from 80 to 150 ft. in height, and all the morning we steamed in
beautiful weather through the lanes and streets of a wonderful snowy
Venice. The magic of such a scene cannot be described. As far as the
eye could see, great, white, wall-sided bergs stretched east, west
and south, contrasting strikingly with the lanes of blue-black water
between them.
A stillness, weird and uncanny, had fallen upon everything. Here there
was no sign of life, except when one of the little snow petrels,
invisible when flying across the glistening bergs, flashed for a moment
into sight. Beautiful as this scene was it gave me some anxiety, for I
knew that if we were caught in a breeze amidst this maze of floating
ice it would go hard with us. Already an ominous dark cloud was
sweeping down from the north, and I was unfeignedly thankful when, in
the afternoon, I saw open water ahead. After a few more turnings and
twistings we entered the ice-free Ross Sea, this being the first time
a passage had been made into that sea without the vessel being held up
by pack-ice; and I think our success was due to the fact that we were
to the eastward of the pack, which had separated from the land and the
Barrier, and had drifted to the north-west. Indeed all my experience
goes to prove that the easterly route is the best.
Whence these bergs had come is open to conjecture, but I am certain
that this ice had not long left the parent barrier or coast-line, for
there was no sign of weathering on the sides. Our latitude at noon on
the 16th was 68° 6′ South, and the longitude 179° 21′ West.
Before we entered the actual line of bergs a couple of seals, probably
a crabeater and a Weddell seal, appeared on the floe-ice, and a
few Adelie penguins were also seen. The quaint walk and insatiable
curiosity of these birds greatly amused us, and Marston, our artist,
whose sense of the ludicrous is very fully developed, was in ecstasies
at their genuine surprise and profound concern when they saw the ship.
It was fortunate that we cleared the ice during that afternoon, for
shortly afterwards the wind increased, and the weather thickened with
falling snow.