SOUTH GEORGIA (SECOND VISIT)
Sir Ernest Shackleton’s body had been brought back to South Georgia
for burial. I insert an account written by Hussey of what had occurred
since I saw him last.
“The journey up to Monte Video was marked by wretched weather. The
ship’s wireless was out of order, so that I was unable to acquaint
the world with my sad news. We arrived on Sunday morning, January
29th, and I immediately went on shore and cabled to Mr. Rowett,
asking him to break the news to Lady Shackleton.
“That afternoon, while I was in Wilson, Sons & Co.’s office, a
telephone message came through from the Uruguayan Government
asking me if they might take charge of any arrangements that
had to be made there as a last tribute to the great explorer. I
acquiesced, and they immediately set about bringing Sir Ernest’s
body ashore. Within half an hour they had sent a naval launch out
to the _Professor Gruvel_ to fetch the coffin. It was met on the
quay by a guard of honour of 100 marines and taken to the military
hospital, where a guard of two soldiers was mounted over it day
and night.
“Next morning the medical officers at the hospital re-embalmed
the body, as it was at first intended to bring it to England for
burial.
“That day, however, a cable came from Mr. Rowett saying that Lady
Shackleton was sure that Sir Ernest would have wished to be buried
on South Georgia, the scene of his greatest exploit, and asking me
to make arrangements to do this.
“The next ship to leave for South Georgia was the _Woodville_,
with Captain Leaste in command. He was most courteous and
sympathetic, and immediately placed such accommodation on his ship
as was necessary at our disposal.
“The day before she sailed a commemoration service was held
in the English church at Monte Video, Canon Blount, and Canon
Brady, an old friend of Sir Ernest, officiating. The coffin had
been transferred from the military hospital to the church on the
previous day.
“While Sir Ernest’s body was lying in state in the military
hospital the matron and one of the nurses placed fresh flowers on
it each day from the hospital garden.
“For the memorial service the church was packed. Many members of
the Uruguayan Government were present, and representatives from
nearly every country in the world either sent wreaths or came in
person. The President of Uruguay came into the church and stood a
few minutes in silent contemplation before the rough wooden coffin
which, covered by the Union Jack, stood in front of the altar.
The Republic of Uruguay also sent a magnificent bronze wreath to
be placed on the grave. The French Maritime Society sent a bronze
palm, and Mr. Ogden Armour, representing the United States of
America, brought a huge wreath of lilies. The British Minister
at Monte Video came with a bronze wreath and a memorial plaque,
both of which I screwed up later on the walls of the little wooden
church in South Georgia.
“At the conclusion of the service the coffin was carried to a
waiting gun-carriage by ten British ex-Service men. Huge crowds
had assembled to pay their last tribute to the great explorer,
and the whole of the route from the church to the quay where
the _Woodville_ was lying was lined by troops. Along one part of
the route women showered rose petals down on to the coffin from
overhanging balconies.
“On arrival at the ship the coffin was taken aboard and the
Uruguayan Minister for Foreign Affairs made a short speech, in
which he said that not only England but the whole world was made
the poorer by Sir Ernest’s death. The British Minister replied,
thanking the President and the Republic of Uruguay for the way in
which they had honoured the dead explorer’s memory.
“The coffin was then lowered into the hold, and the _Woodville_
put out into the harbour.
“The Uruguayan Government had asked to be allowed to take the
coffin down to South Georgia in a warship, but owing to the bad
ice conditions which existed at that time I considered that to
take an ordinary steel ship down there would be unnecessarily
risking the lives of all on board as well as the safety of
the ship. So they very reluctantly gave up the idea, but when
the _Woodville_ left next day the warship escorted her to the
three-mile limit, fired a salute of seventeen guns—the highest
possible honour that could be shown to anyone less than their
own President—and steamed up alongside the _Woodville_ with the
marines formed up at the salute while their buglers sounded the
“Farewell,” which is usually only sounded for the fallen after
victory in battle. This seemed to me to be the most touching
tribute of all, symbolizing as it did their idea of Sir Ernest’s
life-struggles and his triumphant passing over.
“We reached South Georgia on February 27th, 1922, and in a
blinding snow-storm we took the coffin ashore to the little wooden
Lutheran church at Gritviken.
“Sunday, March 5th, broke clear and calm. The managers from all
five whaling stations had assembled at the church by three o’clock
that afternoon, and a crowd of about one hundred fishermen were
present to pay their last respects to Sir Ernest. The first part
of the funeral service was said in English and Norwegian, Mr.
Binnie, the magistrate, officiating. Then the coffin was taken
by six Shetland islanders—all ex-Service men who happened to be
working at Leith Harbour whaling station—to a light decauville
railway, and carried over tiny mountain streams formed by the
melting snow, and past huge boilers and piles of whalebones to
the little cemetery on the hill. On arrival there the funeral
service was completed, and with the British and Norwegian flags
at half-mast at the gate of the cemetery the coffin was lowered to
its last resting-place.
“After the grave had been filled in I had a simple wooden cross
erected, and on it I hung wreaths which I had brought from Monte
Video on behalf of Lady Shackleton and her children, Mr. and Mrs.
J. Q. Rowett, and the members of the expedition.
“Many more floral and other tributes were placed round and on the
grave.
“When the funeral service was over Mr. Hansen, the manager
of Leith Harbour whaling station, very kindly offered me
the hospitality of his house till I could get passage in a
homeward-bound ship. Nothing had been heard of the _Quest_,
and I was anxiously waiting for news of my companions. On the
morning of April 6th Hansen wakened me with the news of the
ship’s arrival. We were not long in going aboard, and I reported
at once to Commander Wild, giving him a full account of all that
had happened. While the _Quest_ was in harbour I went aboard and
shared in such work as was necessary, and Commander Wild decided
that I had better return to Monte Video as quickly as possible,
collect all Sir Ernest’s gear which I had left there in store,
and proceed to England, there to report to Mr. Rowett and Lady
Shackleton and give them any information that they might require.
“Accordingly I arrived at Monte Video on the _Neko_ on April 24th,
and, accompanied by the British Minister, I thanked the Minister
for Foreign Affairs, Dr. Buero, on behalf of Mr. Rowett and the
members of the expedition for the way that this great little
Republic had honoured our late leader’s memory.
“I arrived in England on May 28th and was met at Southampton by
Mr. Rowett, whose many encouraging and sympathetic cables had
greatly cheered me on my sad and lonely mission, and to whom I
gave a full report of all that had happened since the _Quest_ had
left England in September, 1921.”
[Illustration: A GLACIER FACE IN SOUTH GEORGIA
_Photo: Wilkins_]
[Illustration: A ROCKY OUTCROP IN SOUTH GEORGIA
_Photo: Wilkins_]
Whilst Hussey was telling me all that happened there flashed into my
mind the remark Sir Ernest had made when the _Quest_ first entered
Gritviken Harbour—“The cross has gone from the hill-side!” When he
spoke I little thought that when next we should round the headland and
look across the harbour to those slopes another cross would be there to
replace the one that had gone, erected this time to the memory of his
own brave spirit.
Hussey was still awaiting a chance to go home, for since the arrival
of the _Woodville_ there had been no return steamers. The _Neko_, a
floating factory belonging to Messrs. Salvesen & Co., was due from the
South Shetlands in about ten days, and he hoped to secure a passage in
her. I was glad to see this cheery little man again, who within a few
hours had settled down amongst us as if he had never been away.
The first work to be done after our arrival in South Georgia was the
getting up again from the bunkers of all the heavy deck gear which had
been placed below as ballast for the run from Elephant Island, where,
owing to depleted stores and small remaining supply of coal, the ship
had become very light and top heavy. It was not at all a pleasant job,
for the bunkers contained a considerable quantity of blubber, and,
owing to the heavy seas, the gear had shifted about and become covered
with the most disgusting mixture of coal and grease, which had to be
removed from each article as it came on deck. The remaining pieces of
blubber were passed up and dumped overboard, for with the heat from
the engine-room they had started to become very offensive. This done,
the bunkers were cleared completely and made ready to receive coal.
Attention was then turned to the ship and engines, to both of which
there was a good deal to be done, as may be understood, owing to the
severe bumping and the continued bad weather we had experienced.
[Illustration: DISTENDED WHALE CARCASSES IN PRINCE OLAF HARBOUR
_Photo: Wilkins_]
[Illustration: CAPE PIGEONS (_DAPTION CAPENSIS_) AT SOUTH GEORGIA
These birds flock in thousands to feed on the offal from the
whaling stations
_Photo: Wilkins_]
Under Jeffrey’s direction, Dell, McLeod and Marr proceeded with the
deck work, reset up the rigging generally, replaced all worn gear, and
put everything into shipshape order ready for once more proceeding to
sea. The greater part of the next portion of our journey would be in
the “Roaring Forties,” which by no means belie their name, so I was
particularly anxious that this part of the work should be thoroughly
carried out.
Kerr and his staff had a busy time in the engine-room, where all parts
of the machinery were subjected to a complete overhaul. The main pump
was taken down, new parts fitted, and the whole put into good working
order. The hull was still leaking badly, and all the time we were in
harbour we had to keep the hand pumps going vigorously whilst the steam
pump was out of action. It was found that the engines as a whole had
withstood the unusually hard conditions much better than was expected,
and credit is due to the engine-room staff for the careful nursing they
gave them throughout the period spent in the South.
The contents of the hold were tallied and re-stowed, and space made to
receive the mails for Tristan da Cunha, which had been deposited here
in charge of Mr. Hansen. Whilst in the ice regions I kept the boats
provisioned for thirty days, but I now reduced the amount to supplies
for ten days only, as the larger weight is apt to make the boats
unhandy.
I found it necessary to take aboard some fresh provisions, and a small
amount of equipment to replace damaged gear, but our requirements in
this respect were small. I was fortunate in obtaining from Mr. Hansen a
supply of fresh potatoes, which are, perhaps, the most valuable of all
foodstuffs to people living under our conditions.
Wilkins and Douglas were set free from all work about the ship so
that they might have all their time free to carry on their scientific
observations.
A certain amount of carpentry was necessary about the ship, for which
work the managers of the whaling stations supplied me with men. The
broken after-scuttle was renewed and strengthened, and the deck-house,
which had leaked badly, re-canvassed and covered with a coating of red
lead.
Throughout the whole of this work I received the most valuable
assistance from Mr. Hansen, to whom nothing proved too much trouble.
In addition, he gave us a most cordial welcome to his house, where
we renewed our acquaintance with Dr. and Mrs. Aarberg. It was indeed
“Liberty Hall,” for we came and went as we pleased; the bathroom was
thrown open for our use, and there was always an unlimited supply of
hot water. We certainly needed it—words cannot give an idea of the
luxury of that first long wallow in the bath. I was much touched by
Mr. Hansen’s kindly and practical hospitality, and tried many times
to express my thanks, but he brushed them aside as if it were all a
matter of no moment. Indeed, I was surprised at the warmth of welcome
we received from everybody we met. I have an inkling that the _Quest_
was regarded as far too small a vessel for the undertaking, and that
the enterprise was considered a somewhat hazardous one.
While the work of the ship was going forward I made a point of allowing
the members of the expedition as much time for rest and recreation
as possible. The period spent in the South had proved a trying and
wearing one to everybody, and all were in need of a rest and change
of exercise. Time also was required for “make and mend,” washing
of clothes and attention to personal gear generally, which had been
impossible whilst the _Quest_ was the plaything of the heavy southern
seas.
[Illustration: SOUTH GEORGIA]
I sent the men ashore, whenever the opportunity afforded, to walk
over the island, play football, or visit the people employed at the
station, of whom a number were British, chiefly Shetlanders. There
was a football ground behind the station, situated at the foot of
a high mountain and overlooked by a glacier; the ground was more
remarkable, however, for its romantic position than for the condition
of its surface. We received a challenge from the Shetlanders, which
I accepted. In so small a company as ours, numbering nineteen all
told, it was not easy to raise eleven footballers, for many were
Rugby players, and had never played the Association game. However, we
succeeded in putting out a side which, after a good game, defeated the
Shetlanders by one goal to nil. Anxious for revenge, they challenged
us to a return match, and beat us. Unfortunately, the opportunity for
a third and decisive game did not occur.
I encouraged incidents of this nature, for they provided an entire
change from the routine of ship’s work and served to draw the men more
closely together on a common level than the routine ship’s work could
ever do. Also they gave a new topic for conversation and discussion
which lasted for days.
On April 14th the _Neko_ arrived, and I accompanied Mr. Hansen on a
visit to her, when I discovered that her master, Captain Sinclair,
was an old friend whom I had met in South Georgia eight years before.
He readily consented to take Hussey to Rio de Janeiro, where he
could transfer to a mail boat for home, and offered him the only
accommodation available on board—the settee in his cabin. The _Neko_ is
a floating factory. Each spring, as soon as the ice opens, she proceeds
to Deception Island, and thence as her captain may think fit. She is
accompanied by four steam whale-catchers, which, when they have killed
a whale, bring it in and lay it alongside the parent ship. She herself
is provided with boilers and vats and all the apparatus necessary for
trying down the blubber into oil. The pursuit of whales has changed
largely since the days of the old Dundee fleet, when the actual killing
was carried out from boats by means of hand harpoons and lances. Now,
instead of boats, small but fast steel steamers are used, which carry
in their bows powerful guns from which the harpoon is fired. Attached
to the harpoon is a strong rope coiled ready for running on a small
sloping platform over the bows. A bomb is fitted to the end of the
harpoon and forms the point. If the aim is good, this bursts inside the
animal, causing instantaneous death.
[Illustration: THE NORTHERN COAST OF DRYGALSKI FIORD
_Photo: Wilkins_]
[Illustration: CAPE SAUNDERS
_Photo: Wilkins_]
[Illustration: THE NEW TYPE OF WHALER
A modern steam “catcher” entering harbour at South Georgia through
newly freezing ice
_Photo: Dr. Macklin_]
[Illustration: THE BLACK-BROWED ALBATROSS OR MOLLYMAUK
_Photo: Wilkins_]
In the case of the stations located on South Georgia the process is
much the same, but the shore factory replaces the parent ship and
everything is on a larger scale.
The newer method of hunting is a much more lethal one—for the whale;
from the catchers’ point of view it is, of course, much safer and more
comfortable. In the old days the chase of these huge animals was looked
upon as a dangerous undertaking and might be regarded in the nature
of a sport, for the whale had more than a sporting chance of getting
away and the hunters stood a good chance of being drowned. Nowadays it
has become a mere business. Nevertheless, the floating factories, in
pushing south to good whaling grounds, take considerable risks of being
crushed by the ice.
Captain Sinclair is an old and very experienced hand at the work, and
in addition to his whaling activities has added largely to the charting
of the South Shetlands and the Palmer Archipelago. He has succeeded
also in bringing home some unique live specimens of seals and penguins,
which have been added to the collection in the Zoological Gardens in
Edinburgh.
On the 15th we went to Stromness Harbour, where we were welcomed by the
manager, Mr. Sorlle.
When Sir Ernest Shackleton, accompanied by Worsley and Crean, made the
crossing of South Georgia during the _Endurance_ expedition, it was
here that they arrived and were received by Mr. Sorlle, who fed them
and provided them with hot baths and beds, and was instrumental in
fitting out a relief ship to go to the rescue of the marooned party on
Elephant Island, getting it ready within twenty-four hours of his first
hearing of the state of affairs. This relief ship, the _Southern Sky_,
was unfortunately held up by the ice, and her return was dictated,
not by the Norwegians who manned her—they were ready to hang on for
many more days—but by Sir Ernest Shackleton, who was anxious to get to
the Falkland Islands so that he might set going the preparation of a
larger, properly ice-protected wooden ship.
I decided to lay the _Quest_ alongside the _Perth_, a large oil
transport which acted as tender to the station. A strong breeze was
blowing, which made the _Quest_ very unhandy to manœuvre, and whilst
Worsley was putting her alongside she struck her bowsprit against the
steel sides of the _Perth_ and snapped it off short. This might have
proved a serious disability, but, fortunately, Mr. Sorlle had a spar
which he not only presented to us, but had cut down and shaped to our
requirements.
Here, as at Leith, we received every kindness, and we had hardly made
fast before a present of a pig and a reindeer—the latter shot by Mr.
Sorlle himself—were sent aboard. All the officers were invited to
dine with Mr. Sorlle at his house in the evening, and we received
a dinner of six or seven courses which rivalled anything to be had
in civilization. Afterwards we spent a very pleasant evening with
reminiscence, story and song. Mr. Sorlle is a most charming host.
Whilst lying in Stromness Harbour we experienced one of those
tremendous hurricanes which are characteristic of the southern volcanic
islands. Descending from the hills without a moment’s notice, it blew
with such violence that the whole surface of the bay was lashed into a
torn mass of driven water, the tops of the seas being snatched off and
blown in a blinding spume to leeward. One of our boats lying alongside
the ship was swamped, and all gear that would float, such as oars,
bottom boards and fishing tackle, were swept out of her and lost.
Fortunately, the painter held, and there was no damage to the boat
itself.
There was no coal available at Leith, Stromness or Husvik, so on the
17th I proceeded to Prince Olaf Harbour to see if I could obtain what
I required. The whaling station there is the property of Messrs. Lever
Brothers, and is under English management. On my arrival I called
at once on the manager, Mr. Bostock, who relieved my mind very much
when he said he would give us what we required for our purpose. We
accordingly lay alongside the _Southern Isles_, the oil transport
steamer and station tender which was to supply us. Here, again, we
received much help from Captain Sapp, who supplied all the labour
necessary to put the coal on our decks.
Whilst we were here Carr developed a nasty abscess of the face, and on
the invitation of the company’s doctor went ashore to the hospital,
where he could get a bed, with clean sheets and other comforts not
available on the ship. Macklin was suffering from an inflamed hand, the
result of an accident whilst in the ice, and McIlroy found it necessary
to incise it for him.
On the 19th we had completed coaling, and on the 20th set off for the
Bay of Isles to study the bird life of the numerous islands dotted
about it. On this day Hussey left us to join the _Neko_ at Leith. He
had taken his old place amongst us and had joined fully in all the work
of the ship. His unfailing optimism and cheerfulness had done much to
enliven us, and it was with genuine regret that we said good-bye. I
think he felt the going. With him went Carr, who was now suffering a
good deal from his face. Hussey had instructions to take medical charge
of him, and if his condition became worse to take him home on the
_Neko_, but if it showed signs of improvement he was to hand him over
to Dr. Aarberg, to await our arrival at Leith Harbour.
We made first for Albatross Island, under the lee of which I lay to,
and sent Jeffrey with the boat to put Wilkins and his party ashore.
They effected a landing in a small cave, and, having scaled a cliff,
reached the summit of the island, where they found albatross and giant
petrels in large numbers.
[Illustration: A PAIR OF ADULT WANDERING ALBATROSS
_Photo: Wilkins_]
[Illustration: A YOUNG ALBATROSS
_Photo: Wilkins_]
[Illustration: GENTOO PENGUIN FEEDING ITS CHICK
The beak of the young is thrust right inside the throat of the parent
_Photo: Wilkins_]
[Illustration: THE CHICK AFTER FEEDING
_Photo: Wilkins_]
Macklin, whose hand prevented him from working, asked permission to go
with them, and I quote from his diary:
We landed on a little beach inside a cave which was occupied
by a number of sea-elephants, which showed their resentment
of our approach by opening their mouths very wide and making
stertorous windy noises which could hardly be described as
“roaring”—“breathing” defiance with a vengeance.
In the enclosed atmosphere they smelled horribly, for they are
unclean, swinish brutes. From the cave we clambered up a steep
cliff to the top of the island, which we found to be irregular in
shape and covered with tussock grass. Wilkins, with the assistance
of Marr and Argles, immediately set about collecting albatross
for addition to the natural history collections. These birds, when
seen at close quarters on the ground, prove to be much larger than
one would imagine, being about the size of large geese, but with
much longer legs. Their appearance on land is ugly and ungainly,
and contrasts strongly with the grace and beauty they exhibit when
in flight. Wilkins, by going slowly, was easily able to get within
reach, when he grabbed their beaks and “pithed” them by passing a
needle through the back of the skull into the brain. He took the
heads, wings and legs as specimens and made them into neat parcels
for transmission to the museums. Jeffrey and McLeod had stayed
to look after the boat, so, being at a loose end and remembering
Worsley’s ecstatic remarks concerning baby albatross, I set about
collecting enough of them for a meal for all hands. The island
was covered with little paths worn by the birds, which formed a
regular maze amongst the tussocks and hummocks of grass. Here and
there one came across little circular plateaux which apparently
formed a meeting-place for numbers of birds, for they were worn
absolutely bare to the mud. The nests of the albatross are placed
on the top of small, raised, cone-shaped mounds composed of
earth and tussock grass, which are nearly always situated on the
windward side of the island, so that the birds when preparing for
flight have merely to spread their wings to get a good take off.
The inside of the nest is hollowed sufficiently deep to allow the
young bird to crouch and take shelter from the winds. The young
are pretty little things covered with white down, and from the
highest point of the island I could see them all round me standing
out in marked contrast to the dark green of the tussock grass.
The giant petrels, “Nellies” or “Stinkers,” as they are variously
called, nest in much the same way. They are most unpleasant
creatures and receive from sailors none of the veneration accorded
to the albatross. We had been ashore some hours when Commander
Wild sent up a detonator as a signal for our recall. The cliffs
on the side where we had landed are steep and overhanging, so that
we had to approach cautiously, and had some difficulty in finding
the way back to our cave. We at length found the spot where we
had ascended. I flung my collection of birds over the cliff to
be picked up below, and all of us having got safely down we rowed
back to the ship.
Macklin, in speaking of “the veneration accorded to the albatross,”
voices a very old superstition amongst seamen of the old sailing ship
days. When I first went to sea as a boy this was still a common belief
amongst sailors, but though there are a few of these old-timers left
who still hold to the old romantic ideas, they are becoming more and
more scarce. Romance is not dead, as Kipling says, but it moves with
the times. Masefield says:
Them birds goin’ fishin’ is nothin’ but souls o’ the drowned,
Souls o’ the drowned an’ the kicked as are never no more;
An’ that there haughty old albatross cruisin’ around,
Belike he’s Admiral Nelson or Admiral Noah.
I recalled the party on account of the weather, for a strong wind
had blown up, the seas were increasing and there were indications
of a heavy storm. I did not care to be caught with the _Quest_ on a
lee shore, so went back to Prince Olaf Harbour, where we found that
all their own whale catchers had returned for shelter. In addition
there were a number belonging to other stations which had put in here
till the weather should abate. We had for dinner the next night the
baby albatross which Macklin had brought off. This was the first food
obtained by Sir Ernest Shackleton on his arrival at South Georgia from
the boat journey, and often had we listened to Worsley’s telling of the
story, this much of which never varied: “Baby albatross just off the
nest—we ate them! By jove, they were good, damn good!” By one of life’s
little ironies he was having dinner ashore that night and so missed
them; his disappointment on hearing of it was keen.
On the 22nd, the weather having abated somewhat, we left to carry
out an extensive series of soundings about the north-western end of
South Georgia. This we accomplished in spite of very bad weather. The
_Quest_, as usual, behaved abominably, having a most uncomfortable
motion as we butted into the head seas, which sent the spray in clouds
high over the yards.
We returned to Prince Olaf Harbour on the 25th. There was still much
to be done, and Mr. Bostock kindly lent me his shore carpenter for some
jobs that were still outstanding on the ship.
On the 27th we said good-bye to our friends and left for Leith,
passing _en route_ the _Woodville_, which was coming up the coast, and
presented a fine sight as she dipped her nose deeply into the swell.
We arrived in Leith Harbour in a blinding snow squall which made
mooring to the buoy a difficult matter. The _Quest’s_ engines were
of such low power that manœuvring in close spaces was an extremely
difficult matter during the squalls, which came out of the mountains
with hurricane force and startling suddenness.
On the 29th Mr. Hansen was able to make room for us alongside his
little pier, where we proceeded to take in water. Owing to the low
temperature the water in the hose froze solid and it became necessary
to clear the galley to thaw it, the process being carried out section
by section till all was clear. Green had the dinner in process of
cooking, and was quite perturbed when he had to sweep away all his pots
and pans to make room for the hose—such is an example of what a cook
has to put up with at sea.
On May 1st we took aboard what stores we required and the mails for
Tristan da Cunha. We received from Mr. Hansen some final presents in
the form of a pig and several small but useful sundries, and from
Captain Manson of the _Albuera_ an additional two crates of fresh
potatoes.
On the 2nd we said good-bye to Leith Harbour, which we had regarded
as our South Georgia home and where we had received so much kindness,
not only from Mr. Hansen, the manager, who had done everything in his
power to assist us, but from Dr. Aarberg, who had looked after Carr
whilst we had been carrying out the soundings about the island and had
been of assistance to the surgeons in many ways. Our thanks are due to
Mrs. Aarberg also, for with much kindly thoughtfulness she had asked us
to entrust to her care such articles of clothing as might require the
“stitch in time.”
[Illustration: ON THE WAY TO THE CAIRN—SEEN IN THE DISTANCE
_Photo: Wilkins_]
[Illustration:LOOKING SHOREWARDS FROM THE CAIRN
A winter view of Gritviken Harbour, with the magistrate’s house
in the foreground
_Photo: Dr. Macklin_]
[Illustration: OUR FAREWELL TO THE BOSS
Old companions of Sir Ernest Shackleton gathered about his grave
in the little Gritviken Cemetery
_Photo: Wilkins_]
As a result of our stay we were refreshed and full of vigour, for
the spell ashore and in harbour had done us all good. Thanks also to
the various managers we had been able to vary the diet from our own
preserved provisions to fresh food in the form of pork, reindeer and
whale-meat, which provided a most pleasant change. We were able to
catch also Cape pigeons and albatross, which when properly cooked make
quite good eating. The former have an oily taste which can be largely
removed by soaking them for twenty-four hours in dilute vinegar.
I seized every chance of sending away the boats to catch fresh fish,
which are found in great quantity about the coast. Macklin, Jeffrey,
Green and Hussey (whilst he was with us) were those most often engaged
in this work, which was not always pleasant. An entry in one diary
reads:
Some people fish for fun, some consider it a sport, others fish
because they have blooming[11] well got to. I am one of them. Down
here the job is often anything but a joyous one in cold driving
wind and snow, fingers so cold that one can scarcely remove the
hooks from the fishes’ mouths. Sometimes the blizzards sweep down
and it is all we can do to fight our way inch by inch back to the
ship....
Macklin writes in this connexion:
The fish here are of excellent quality and have the peculiarity
that when cooked they do not taste fishy. Green usually fries
them in olive oil and they are particularly good. The best spots
for finding fish are in belts of kelp close to the edge where the
tides sweep in and out. Whale meat (not blubber) makes a good bait
and a spinner (or any piece of bright tin) helps to attract the
fish. One can usually moor the boat to the strands of kelp, but
it is advisable always to have on board a small kedge anchor and
a good length of line in case of being swept away by the blizzards
which blow from the hills with strong, sudden blasts.
Green is a great enthusiast, and is always willing to come,
whatever the weather....
There is no sport in the actual fishing, for the fish abound in
great quantities and are very sluggish. The chief art lies in knowing
just where to go for them. There are two kinds, which we speak of as
“ordinary” fish and “crocodile” fish. The first, as the name implies,
have nothing peculiar about them. The latter have immense mouths with
crocodile-shaped jaws and look hideous. The tail is small, and indeed
it may be said that there is more mouth than anything else.
The trip to Gritviken was uneventful and we arrived there the same day.
Before leaving South Georgia we had rather a sad duty to perform.
For a long time I had desired to erect some mark which would serve
to perpetuate the memory of Sir Ernest Shackleton. We had no time to
do it before we left for the South, for every day was precious and it
was essential that we should get away at the earliest possible moment.
After some consideration I decided that the mark should take the form
of a cairn surmounted by a cross, and I selected as a site for it a
prominent spot on the headland which stands out from the lower slopes
of Duse Fell, at the entrance to Gritviken harbour. I determined that
it should be the work of his comrades, something which we ourselves
could create without help from outside sources. Everyone on board was
anxious to have a hand in the building, so I arranged things that they
might do so. On the night of our arrival the temperature fell very
low and the surface of the harbour froze over, not sufficiently to
permit of walking but enough to make it an extremely difficult matter
to get the boat to the shore. Also snow fell thickly. We broke a way
through the ice and proceeded to the headland, where we made a search
for suitable building stone. There was none convenient, and to obtain
it we had to go some distance up the hillside to where a shoulder of
rock jutted out through the tussock grass. Having removed the snow we
bored the rock and blasted it with sabulite, afterwards breaking away
suitable pieces with crowbar and pick. For sledging it down the hill we
had to make special box-containers; even then with the steepness of the
declivity and the roughness of the track it was a difficult matter to
prevent the loads from falling off. The work was awkward and hard; on
several occasions the sledges broke away and careered down the slippery
hillside with the men clinging desperately behind. No one grudged the
labour and time spent, for it was the last job we should do for the
Boss. The foundations were laid and the cairn began to grow. There were
no expert masons amongst us, but the work when completed had a most
pleasing appearance. Into the stone we cemented a brass plate on which
was engraved very simply:
SIR ERNEST SHACKLETON
EXPLORER
DIED HERE, JANUARY 5TH, 1922.
ERECTED BY HIS COMRADES.
The cairn is solid and will stand the ravages of frost and blizzards
for many years to come.
It will be the first object picked out by any ship entering the
harbour, and to anyone looking back as the vessel steams away it will
stand out in lonely prominence long after the station has disappeared
from view. It can be seen also from every part of the harbour.
Our last act before leaving was to pay a visit to the Boss’s grave, for
which purpose I gathered together all those who had served under him on
the _Endurance_ and had shared with him all the trials and vicissitudes
that followed her loss in the ice. There were, in addition to myself,
Worsley, Macklin, McIlroy, Kerr, Green and McLeod. That I included none
of the newer men who had known him for so short awhile casts no shadow
of aspersion upon them. My feelings in the matter are hard to describe.
We were joined to each other and to him by ties so strongly welded
through the long months of common danger and uncertainty that I felt
there would be something wrong in introducing anything in the nature of
a less intimate element.
So our little party rowed across the bay, walked to the little
graveyard and gathered for the last time round his grave. It was deeply
snow-covered. We carefully removed the snow and disclosed a number
of bronze wreaths: from Lady Shackleton and from numerous friends and
relatives at home. There were others from the Uruguayan Republic, the
British residents in Uruguay, the Freemasons of Uruguay and the French
Maritime Society. Two others hang in the little church, placed there by
Hussey: one from His Majesty King George V and the British people, the
other from his old school-fellows resident in South America. There was
also the flower wreath placed with such kindly thought by the doctor’s
wife, Mrs. Aarberg.
The graveyard is a simple little place. In it are already a few
crosses, some of them very old, mute reminders of forgotten tragedies.
Four of them mark the resting places of officers and men of the sailing
ship _Esther_, of London. They had died of typhus fever and were buried
here in 1846. There is one inscribed to W. H. Dyke, Surgeon, who in his
devotion to duty in attending the sick had also contracted the disease
and died. There are some newer crosses erected to Norwegian whalers who
had lost their lives in the arduous calling which brings them to these
stormy waters. All of them are the graves of strong men.
It is a fitting environment. Gritviken is a romantic spot. All around
are big mountains, bold in outline and snow-covered. Below lies one of
the most perfect little harbours in the world, at times disturbed by
the fierce winds from the hills and lashed by the gusty squalls to a
mass of flying spume and spindrift. Often it lies calm and peaceful,
bathed in glorious sunshine and reflecting in its deeps the high
peaks around, whilst the sea-birds, “souls of old mariners,” circle in
sweeping flights above its surface and fill the air with the melancholy
of their cries. An ideal resting-place this for the great explorer who
felt, more than most men, the glamour of such surroundings.
So we said good-bye to the “Old Boss,” and I who have served with him
through four expeditions know that if he could have chosen his own
resting-place it would have been just here.
Here—here’s his place, where meteors shoot, clouds form,
Lightnings are loosened,
Stars come and go! Let joy break with the storm,
Peace let the dew send!
Lofty designs must close in like effects:
Loftily lying,
Leave him—still loftier than the world suspects,
Living and dying.
—ROBERT BROWNING.
We had still some work to do before finally setting course for Tristan
da Cunha.
Before leaving Gritviken I entrusted our last lot of letters and
messages for home to Mr. Binnie, the magistrate, who, together with the
other Government representatives on the island, had been very helpful
to us in many ways.
We went alongside the little pier where we hardened up[12] the water
tanks. Mr. Jacobsen paid a last visit to the ship and presented us with
a parting present in the form of a fine young sow, which was carried
aboard in a box, receiving the excited attentions of Query. I did not
kill her at once, intending to keep and feed her up so that we might
have some fresh meat when at sea. Someone gave her the name “Bridget,”
and so she was known until her demise some weeks later at the hands of
Dell, who did our butchering.
We received also from Mr. Jacobsen some packets of dried Swedish oaten
cakes, which were of particular interest in that they had formed part
of the stores of Filchner’s German expedition which had come to grief
and been abandoned here. They were still, after eleven years, in
excellent condition.
We left on May 7th and had been some hours at sea when we discovered
a stowaway aboard. This was “Micky,” a small black-and-white dog
belonging to Mr. Binnie, the magistrate. He was discovered by Macklin
who, whilst descending into the hold, stepped in the darkness upon
something which moved and yelped and which proved, upon being dragged
to the light for inspection, to be this animal. We lavished upon him
no loving remarks, but knowing that Mr. Binnie set great store by him
I put back and in the small hours of the morning sent Jeffrey with the
boat to put him ashore, having previously tied to his neck a message to
Binnie, explaining his disappearance and requesting him as a magistrate
to award a punishment of at least three days jail for having caused us
so much trouble and loss of time.
On May 8th we visited Royal Bay and Moltke Harbour, where the German
Transit of Venus Expedition had had a station in 1882. One of the huts
then set up is still standing.
The glacier running into this harbour is of great geological interest
because in the last forty years it has advanced about a mile and
receded to its original position. I sent the boat ashore with Jeffrey,
Macklin and Ross to find suitable landings for the scientific parties.
There was a heavy surf running which made the operation difficult, but
they succeeded in putting Douglas with Carr and Argles on to a steep
rocky beach which ran along the side of the harbour. Marr, still very
inexperienced in boat work, fell overboard during the process and was
rolled over and over in the surf, to be eventually cast upon the beach;
but he escaped with nothing worse than a ducking—which is not a joke
in these temperatures. Wilkins, who with Marr had wished to land on the
beach at the side of the glacier, was unable to do so.
I sent Macklin, McIlroy, Marr and Green to catch as many fish as
possible for taking away with us. Finding a suitable spot at the edge
of a belt of kelp, they secured a good haul and brought back enough
to last for several days, for in these temperatures there was not much
fear of its going bad.
Shortly before dark I recalled all hands, who were picked up and
brought off safely.
Before leaving, Worsley took a line of soundings along the front of the
glacier. This was our last work in South Georgia.
This remote island has drawn to it scientists from all nations, yet
there remains much to interest the investigators of to-day. During our
stay we made a great number of observations and collected a mass of
data which when sorted and worked out fully will, I hope, be of great
interest to the scientific world.
We now put to sea and set course for Tristan da Cunha. As we left the
bay the moon came out—a big golden moon which cast a broad pathway on
the sea and bathed the huge glaciers and the snow-covered mountains
and valleys in a soft golden glow. Our last sight of South Georgia was
a very beautiful one, and my last thoughts as I gazed back over our
rippling wake, gleaming in the moonlight with brighter phosphorescence,
were of my comrade who stayed there, and I hoped for his sake that our
completed enterprise would be the success that he himself would have
made it.