year after year, replenished from a source which never fails. We had
reason to believe that it was local in character, as apparently a
gulf of open water about one hundred miles in width--the D'Urville
Sea--exists to the north of Adelie Land. Thus, far back in the
interior--back to the South Geographical Pole itself--across one
thousand six hundred miles of lofty plateau--is a zone of high
barometric pressure, while to the north lies the D'Urville Sea and
beyond it the Southern Ocean--a zone of low pressure. As if through a
contracted outlet, thereby increasing the velocity of the flow, the wind
sweeps down over Adelie Land to equalize the great air-pressure system.
And so, in winter, the chilling of the plateau leads to the development
of a higher barometric pressure and, as the open water to the north
persists, to higher winds. In summer the suns shines on the Pole for six
months, the uplands of the continent are warmed and the northern zone of
low pressure pushes southward. So, in Adelie Land, short spells of calm
weather may be expected over a period of barely three months around
the summer solstice. This explanation is intentionally popular. The
meteorological problem is one which can only be fully discussed when
all the manifold observations have been gathered together, from other
contemporary Antarctic expeditions, from our two stations on the
Antarctic continent, and from Macquarie Island; all taken in conjunction
with weather conditions around Australia and New Zealand. Then, when all
the evidence is arrayed and compared, some general truths of particular
value to science and, maybe, to commerce, should emerge.
Of one thing we were certain, and that was that Adelie Land was the
windiest place in the world. To state the fact more accurately: such
wind-velocities as prevail at sea-level in Adelie Land are known in
other parts of the world only at great elevations in the atmosphere.
The average wind-velocity for our first year proved to be approximately
fifty miles per hour. The bare figures convey more when they are
compared with the following average annual wind-velocities quoted from a
book of reference: Europe, 10.3 miles per hour; United States, 9.5 miles
per hour; Southern Asia, 6.5 miles per hour; West Indies, 6.2 miles per
hour.
Reference has already been made to the fact that often the high winds
ceased abruptly for a short interval. Many times during 1913 we had
opportunities of judging this phenomenon and, as an example, may be
quoted September 6.
[TEXT ILLUSTRATION]
A diagrammatic sketch illustrating the meteorological conditions at the
main base, noon, September 6, 1913
On that day a south-by-east hurricane fell off and the drift cleared
suddenly from about the Hut at 11.20 A.M. On the hills to the south
there was a dense grey wall of flying snow. Whirlies tracked about at
intervals and overhead a fine cumulus cloud formed, revolving rapidly.
Over the recently frozen sea there was an easterly breeze, while about
the Hut itself there were light northerly airs. Later in the day the
zone of southern wind and drift crept down and once more overwhelmed us.
Evidently the "eye" of a cyclonic storm had passed over.
During September the sea was frozen over for more than two weeks,
and the meteorological conditions varied from their normal phase. It
appeared as if we were situated on the battlefield, so to speak, of
opposing forces. The pacific influence of the "north" would hold sway
for a few hours, a whole day, or even for a few days. Then the vast
energies of the "south" would rise to bursting-point and a "through
blizzard" would be the result.
On September 11, although there was a wind of seventy miles per hour,
the sea-ice which had become very solid during a few days of low
temperature was not dispersed. Next day we found it possible to walk
in safety to the Mackellar Islets. On the way rushes of southerly wind
accompanied by a misty drift followed behind us. Then a calm intervened,
and the sun momentarily appeared and shone warmly. Suddenly from the
north-west came breezy puffs which settled into a light wind as we
went north. On the way home we could not see the mainland for clouds of
drift, and, when approaching the mouth of the boat-harbour, these clouds
were observed to roll down the lower slopes of the glacier and, reaching
the shore, rise into the air in columns. They then sailed away northward
at a higher altitude, almost obscuring the sun with a fine fog. On the
same night the "south" had gained the mastery, and the wind blew with
its accustomed strength.
Again, on September 24, McLean had a unique experience. He was digging
ice in a fifty-mile wind with moderate drift close to the Hut and, on
finishing his work, walked down to the harbour-ice to see if there were
any birds about. He was suddenly surprised to leave the wind and drift
behind and to walk out into an area of calm. The water lapped alongside
the ice-foot, blue in the brilliant sunlight. Away to the west a few
miles distant a fierce wind was blowing snow like fine spume over the
brink of the cliffs. Towards the north-west one could plainly see the
junction between calm water and foam-crested waves. To the south the
drift drove off the hills, passed the Hut, and then gyrated upwards and
thinned away seawards at an altitude of several hundred feet.
The wind average for September was 36.8 miles per hour, as against 53.7
for September of the previous year. There were nine "pleasant" days,
that is, days on which it was possible to walk about outside and enjoy
oneself. On the 27th there was a very severe blizzard. The wind was
from the south-east: the first occasion on which it had blown from any
direction but south-by-east at a high velocity. The drift was extremely
dense, the roof of the Hut being invisible at a distance of six feet.
Enormous ramps of snow formed in the vicinity, burying most of the cases
and the air-tractor sledge completely. The anemograph screen was blown
over and smashed beyond all repair. So said the Meteorological Notes in
the October number of the 'Adelie Blizzard'.
Speaking of temperature in general, it was found that the
mean-temperature for the first year was just above zero; a very low
temperature for a station situated near the Circle. The continual flow
of cold air from the elevated interior of the continent accounts for
this. If Adelie Land were a region of calms or of northerly winds, the
average temperature would be very much higher. On the other hand, the
temperature at sea-level was never depressed below-28 degrees F., though
with a high wind we found that uncomfortable enough, even in burberrys.
During the spring sledging in 1912 the lowest temperature recorded was
-35 degrees F. and it was hard to keep warm in sleeping-bags. The wind
made all the difference to one's resistance.
There was an unusually heavy snowfall during 1913. When the air was
heavily charged with moisture, as in midsummer, the falls would consist
of small (sago) or larger (tapioca) rounded pellets. Occasionally
one would see beautiful complicated patterns in the form of hexagonal
flakes. When low temperatures were the rule, small, plain, hexagonal
stars or spicules fell. Often throughout a single snowfall many types
would be precipitated. Thus, in September, in one instance, the fall
commenced with fluffy balls and then passed to tapioca snow, sago snow,
six-rayed stars and spicules.
Wireless communication was still maintained, though September was
found to be such a "disturbed" month--possibly owing to the brilliant
aurorae--that not a great many messages were exchanged. Jeffryes was not
in the best of health, so that Bickerton took over the operating
work. Though at first signals could only be received slowly, Bickerton
gradually improved with practice and was able to "keep up his end" until
November 20, when daylight became continuous. One great advantage, which
by itself justified the existence of the wireless plant, was the fact
that time-signals were successfully received from Melbourne Observatory
by way of Macquarie Island, and Bage was thus able to improve on his
earlier determinations and to establish a fundamental longitude.
During this same happy month of September, whose first day marked the
event of "One hundred days to the coming of the Ship" there was a great
revival in biological work. Hodgeman made several varieties of bag-traps
which were lowered over the edge of the harbour-ice, and many large
"worms" and crustaceans were caught and preserved.
On September 14 Bickerton started to construct a hand-dredge, which was
ready for use by the next evening. It was a lovely, cloudless day on
the 16th and the sea-ice, after more than two weeks, still spread to the
north in a firm, unbroken sheet. We went out on skis to reconnoitre, and
found that the nearest "lead" was too far away to make dredging a safe
proposition. So we were contented to kill a seal and bring it home
before lunch, continuing to sink the ice-shaft above the moraine for the
rest of the day.
The wind rose to the "seventies" on September 17, and the sea-ice
was scattered to the north. On the 19th--a fine day--there were many
detached pieces of floe which drifted in with a northerly breeze, and
on one of these, floating in an ice-girt cove to the west, a sea-leopard
was observed sunning himself. He was a big, vicious-looking brute, and
we determined to secure him if possible. The first thing was to dispatch
him before he escaped from the floe. This Madigan did in three shots
from a Winchester rifle. A long steel-shod sledge was then dragged from
the Hut and used to bridge the interval between the ice-foot and the
floe. After the specimen had been flayed, the skin and a good supply
of dogs' meat were hauled across and sledged home. On the 30th another
sea-leopard came swimming in near the harbour's entrance, apparently on
the look-out for seals or penguins. Including the one seen during 1912,
only three of these animals were observed during our two years' sojourn
in Adelie Land.
Dredgings in depths up to five fathoms were done inside the boat harbour
and just off its entrance on five separate occasions between September
22 and the end of the month. Many "worms," crustaceans, pteropods,
asteroids, gastropods and hydroids were obtained, and McLean and I had
many interesting hours classifying the specimens. The former preserved
and labelled them, establishing a small laboratory in the loft above
the "dining-room." The only disadvantage of this arrangement was that
various "foreign bodies" would occasionally come tumbling through the
interspaces between the flooring boards of the loft while a meal was in
progress.
Some Antarctic petrels were shot and examined for external and internal
parasites. Fish were caught in two traps made by Hodgeman and myself
in October, but unfortunately the larger of the two was lost during a
blizzard. However, on October 11 a haul of fifty-two fish was made with
hand-lines off the boat harbour, and we had a pleasant change in the
menu for dinner. They were of the type known as Notothenia, to which
reference has already been made.
By October 13, when a stray silver-grey petrel appeared, every one was
on the qui vive for the coming of the penguins. In 1912 they had arrived
on October 12, and as there was much floating ice on the northern
horizon, we wondered if their migration to land had been impeded.
The winds were very high for the ensuing two days, and on the 17th the
horizon was clearer and more "water sky" was visible. Before lunch
on that day there was not a living thing along the steep, overhanging
ice-foot, but by the late afternoon thirteen birds had effected a
landing, and those who were not resting after their long swim were
hopping about making a survey of the nearest rookeries. One always has
a "soft spot" for these game little creatures--there is something
irresistibly human about them--and, situated as we were, the wind seemed
of little account now that the foreshores were to be populated by the
penguins--our harbingers of summer and the good times to be. Three days
later, at the call of the season, a skua gull came flapping over the
Hut.
It was rather a singular circumstance that on the evening of the 17th,
coincident with the disappearance of the ice on the horizon, wireless
signals suddenly came through very strongly in the twilight at 9.30
P.M., and for many succeeding nights continued at the same intensity. On
the other hand, during September, when the sea was either firmly frozen
or strewn thickly with floe-ice, communication was very fitful and
uncertain. The fact is therefore suggested that wireless waves are for
some reason more readily transmitted across a surface of water than
across ice.
The weather during the rest of October and for the first weeks
of November took on a phase of heavy snowfalls which we knew were
inevitable before summer could be really established. The winds were
very often in the "eighties" and every four or five days a calm might be
expected.
The penguins had a tempestuous time building their nests, and resuming
once more the quaint routine of their rookery life. In the hurricanes
they usually ceased work and crouched behind rocks until the worst was
over. A great number of birds were observed to have small wounds on
the body which had bled and discoloured their feathers. In one case a
penguin had escaped, presumably from a sea-leopard, with several serious
wounds, and had staggered up to a rookery, dying there from loss of
blood. Almost immediately the frozen carcase was mutilated and torn by
skua gulls.
On October 31 the good news was received that the 'Aurora' would leave
Australia on November 15. There were a great number of things to be
packed, including the lathe, the motor and dynamos, the air-tractor
engine, the wireless "set" and magnetic and meteorological instruments.
Outside the Hut, many cases of kerosene and provisions, which might
be required for the Ship, had been buried to a depth of twelve feet in
places during the southeast hurricane in September. So we set to work in
great spirits to prepare for the future.
McLean was busy collecting biological specimens, managing to secure a
large number of parasites from penguins, skua gulls, giant petrels, snow
petrels, Wilson petrels, seals and an Emperor penguin, which came up on
the harbour-ice. On several beautiful days, with a sea-breeze wafting in
from the north, large purple and brown jelly-fish came floating to the
ice-foot. Many were caught in a hand-net and preserved in formalin. In
his shooting excursions McLean happened on a small rocky ravine to the
east where, hovering among nests of snow and Wilson petrels, a small
bluish-grey bird,* not unlike Prion Banksii, was discovered. Four
specimens were shot, and, later, several old nests were found containing
the unhatched eggs of previous years.
** On arrival in Australia this bird proved to be new to science.
On the highest point of Azimuth Hill, overlooking the sea, a Memorial
Cross was raised to our two lost comrades.
A calm evening in November! At ten o'clock a natural picture in shining
colours is painted on the canvas of sea and sky. The northern dome is a
blush of rose deepening to a warm terra-cotta along the horizon, and the
water reflects it upward to the gaze. Tiny Wilson petrels flit by like
swallows; seals shove their dark forms above the placid surface; the
shore is lined with penguins squatting in grotesque repose. The south is
pallid with light--the circling sun. Adelie Land is at peace!
For some time Madigan, Hodgeman and I had been prepared to set out on
a short sledging journey to visit Mount Murchison and to recover if
possible the instruments cached by the Eastern Coastal and the
Southern Parties. It was not until November 23 that the weather "broke"
definitely, and we started up the old glacier "trail" assisted by a good
team of dogs.
Aladdin's Cave was much the same as we had left it in the previous
February, except that a fine crop of delicate ice-crystals had formed on
its walls. We carried with us a small home-made wireless receiving set,
and arrangements were made with Bickerton and Bage to call at certain
hours. As an "aerial" a couple of lengths of copper wire were run out
on the surface of the ice. At the first "call" Madigan heard the signals
strongly and distinctly, but beyond five and a half miles nothing more
was received.
Resuming the journey on the following day, we made a direct course for
Madigan Nunatak and then steered southeast for Mount Murchison, pitching
camp at its summit on the night of November 28.
On the 29th Madigan and Hodgeman made a descent into the valley, on
whose southern side rose Aurora Peak. The former slid away on skis and
had a fine run to the bottom, while Hodgeman followed on the sledge
drawn by Monkey and D'Urville, braking with an ice-axe driven into
the snow between the cross-bars. Their object was to find the depot of
instruments and rocks which the Eastern Coastal Party were forced to
abandon when fifty-three miles from home. They were unsuccessful in
the search, as an enormous amount of snow had fallen on the old surface
during the interval of almost a year. Indeed, on the knoll crowning
Mount Murchison, where a ten-foot flagpole had been left, snow had
accumulated so that less than a foot of the top of the pole was
showing. Nine feet of hard compressed snow scarcely marked by one's
footsteps--the contribution of one year! To such a high isolated spot
drift-snow would not reach, so that the annual snowfall must greatly
exceed the residuum found by us, for the effect of the prevailing winds
would be to reduce it greatly.
On the third day after leaving Mount Murchison for the Southern
Party's depot, sixty-seven miles south of Winter Quarters, driving snow
commenced, and a blizzard kept us in camp for seven days. When the drift
at last moderated we were forced to make direct for the Hut, as the time
when the Ship was expected to arrive had passed.
Descending the long blue slopes of the glacier just before midnight
on December 12, we became aware of a faint black bar on the seaward
horizon. Soon a black speck had moved to the windward side of the
bar--and it could be nothing but the smoke of the 'Aurora'. The moment
of which we had dreamt for months had assuredly come. The Ship was in
sight!
There were wild cheers down at the Hut when they heard the news. They
could not believe us and immediately rushed up with glasses to the
nearest ridge to get the evidence of their own senses. The masts, the
funnel and the staunch hull rose out of the ocean as we watched on the
hills through the early hours of a superb morning. The sun was streaming
warmly over the plateau and a cool land breeze had sprung up from the
south, as the 'Aurora' rounded the Mackellar Islets and steamed up to
her old anchorage. We picked out familiar figures on the bridge and
poop, and made a bonfire of kerosene, benzine and lubricating oil in a
rocky crevice in their honour.
The indescribable moment was when Davis came ashore in the whale-boat,
manned by two of the Macquarie Islanders (Hamilton and Blake), Hurley
and Hunter. They rushed into the Hut, and we tried to tell the story of
a year in a few minutes.
On the Ship we greeted Gillies, Gray, de la Motte, Ainsworth, Sandell
and Correll. It was splendid to know that the world contained so many
people, and to see these men who had stuck to the Expedition through
"thick and thin." Then came the fusillade of letters, magazines and
"mysterious" parcels and boxes. At dinner we sat down reunited in the
freshly painted ward-room, striving to collect our bewildered thoughts
at the sight of a white tablecloth, Australian mutton, fresh vegetables,
fruit and cigars.
The two long years were over--for the moment they were to be effaced
in the glorious present. We were to live in a land where drift and wind
were unknown, where rain fell in mild, refreshing showers, where the sky
was blue for long weeks, and where the memories of the past were to fade
into a dream--a nightmare?
CHAPTER XXV LIFE ON MACQUARIE ISLAND
By G. F. Ainsworth
Left on an island in mid-ocean!
It suggests the romances of youthful days--Crusoe, Sindbad and all their
glorious company. Still, when this narrative is completed, imagination
will be seen to have played a small part. In fact, it is a plain tale of
our experiences, descriptive of a place where we spent nearly two years
and of the work accomplished during our stay.
The island was discovered in 1810 by Captain Hasselborough of the ship
'Perseverance', which had been dispatched by Campbell and Sons, of
Sydney, under his command to look for islands inhabited by fur seals.
Macquarie Islands, named by Hasselborough after the Governor of New
South Wales, were found to be swarming with these valuable animals, and
for two years after their discovery was made known, many vessels visited
the place, landing gangs of men to procure skins and returning at
frequent intervals to carry the proceeds of their labours to the markets
of the world.
The slaughter of the seals was so great that the animals were almost
exterminated within a few years. One ship is known to have left
Macquarie Island with a cargo of 35,000 skins during the first year of
operations. High prices were obtained for them in London and China, and
many American, British and Sydney firms were engaged in the enterprise.
The value of a skin is determined by the condition of the fur, which is
often damaged by the animals fighting amongst themselves. Furthermore,
at a certain season of the year, the seals moult, and if taken within
a certain time of this natural process, the skin is almost valueless.
These facts were ignored by the sealers, who killed without
discrimination.
Again, both male and female, old and young were ruthlessly slaughtered,
with the obvious result--the extermination of the species. If
supervision had been exercised and restrictions imposed, there is no
doubt that the island would still have been used by the fur seal as a
breeding-ground. During our stay none were seen, but Mr. Bauer, who acts
as sealing herdsman and who had visited the island in that capacity each
summer for eleven years, stated that he had seen odd ones at infrequent
intervals.
Associated as the island has been since the year 1812 with sealing and
oil ventures, it follows that a history has been gradually developed;
somewhat traditional, though many occurrences to which we shall refer
are well authenticated.
It might be supposed from the foregoing, that a good deal is known about
the place, but such is not the case, except in a general sense. Several
scientific men from New Zealand, recognizing the importance of the
island as a link between Australasia and Antarctica, visited it at
different times within the past twenty years, only remaining long enough
to make a cursory examination of the eastern side. They had to depend
on the courtesy of the sealing ships' captains for a passage, and the
stormy conditions which are ever prevalent made their stay too brief for
any exhaustive work.
A Russian Antarctic expedition, under Bellingshausen's command, called
there in 1821 and stayed for two days, collecting a few bird and animal
specimens. They referred to the island as being "half-cooled down," in
a short but interesting account of their visit, and remarked upon the
large number of sea-elephants lying on the shores.
In 1840 the ship 'Peacock', one of the exploring vessels of the American
Expedition under Wilkes, landed several men after much difficulty on the
south-west of the island, but they remained only a few hours, returning
to their ship after securing some specimens of birds. Expressing
astonishment at the "myriad of birds", they remarked, "Macquarie Islands
offer no inducement for a visit, and as far as our examination showed,
have no suitable place for landing with a boat."
The next call of an Antarctic expedition was made by Captain Scott in
the 'Discovery' in November 1901. He, with several naturalists, landed
on the eastern side to collect specimens, but remained only a few hours.
He refers to the penguins, kelp-weed and tussock grass; certainly three
characteristic features.
Captain Davis, during his search for charted sub-antarctic islands, when
connected with Sir Ernest Shackleton's expedition, called there in
the 'Nimrod' in 1909. He landed a party of men who secured several
sea-elephants and some penguins.
It will thus be seen that very little had been done which was
scientifically important or generally interesting. Sealers came and went
as a matter of business, and probably the arduous nature of their work
and the rugged topography of the island combined to prevent the more
curious from exploring far afield.
Captain Scott was desirous of establishing a base on Macquarie Island
in 1910, but circumstances compelled him to abandon the idea. And so it
came that we five men of Dr. Mawson's Expedition were landed on December
22, 1911, with a programme of work outlined by our leader. H. Hamilton
was biologist, L. R. Blake surveyor and geologist, C. A. Sandell and A.
J. Sawyer were wireless operators, the former being also a mechanic, and
I was appointed meteorologist and leader of the party.
We stood on the beach in the dusk, watching the boat's party struggle
back to the 'Aurora', which lay at anchor one and a half miles from
the north-west shore. Having received a soaking landing in the surf and
being tired out with the exertions of the day, we started back to our
temporary shelter. We had not gone very far when a mysterious sound,
followed by a shaking of the earth, made us glance at each other and
exclaim, "An earthquake!" The occurrence gave rise to a discussion which
carried us to bed.
Seeing that we were to spend a long time on the island, the question of
building a hut was the first consideration. Through the kindness of Mr.
Bauer, who had just left the island in the s.s. 'Toroa', we were able to
live for the time being in the sealers' hut.
It was urgent to get the wireless station into working order as soon as
possible. The masts and operating-hut had been erected during the stay
of the 'Aurora', but there yet remained the building of the engine-hut
and the installation of the machinery and instruments, as well as the
construction and erection of the aerial. Accordingly we proceeded with
the living-hut and the job on Wireless Hill at the same time, working on
the hill most of the day and at the hut in the evening.
Wireless Hill rose to three hundred and fifty feet in height, and formed
part of a peninsula running in a northeasterly direction from the
main island. It had been chosen by Mr. Hannam of the Adelie Land party
because of its open northerly aspect, and because "wireless" waves
would probably have a good "set-off," southward to the Main Base in
Antarctica.
Just a few yards from the base of the hill on its southwestern side was
a huge rock, upon the easterly side of which we decided to build our
dwelling. The timbers for the hut had been cut and fitted in Hobart, so
all that remained for us was to put them together.
After working at high pressure until December 30, we were able to
establish ourselves in a home. The doorway faced to the east, and the
rock protected the small place from the strong westerly weather which
is invariable in these latitudes. The dimensions were twenty feet by
thirteen feet, the front wall being nine feet six inches high, sloping
to seven feet six inches at the back. All the timbers were of oregon and
deal, and particular attention was paid to bracing and strengthening
the building, which rested on piles just clear of the sandy surface.
The inside was lined and ceiled, and the roof of galvanized iron was set
flush with the front wall, fascia boards along the front and sides being
designed to keep the fine snow from blowing under the corrugations and
lodging on the ceiling. "George V Villa" was fixed upon as the name, but
the hut was never at any time referred to as the villa, and in future
will always be known as the Shack.
[TEXT ILLUSTRATION]
Plan of Hut--Macquarie Island
Twelve live sheep had been landed, and these had been driven on to
Wireless Hill so as to be accessible. We decided to kill one for
Christmas, so on December 24 Sandell and I, leaving the others at work
on the Shack, started out.
The hillsides are deeply ravined and the slopes covered with a dense
growth of tussock, which renders progress uncertain and laborious. Our
experience was a foretaste of many to come. We found the sheep huddled
together in a deep gully on the eastern side, and drove them round to
the front of the hill, where one was caught, killed and dressed.
Christmas Day dawned fine and sunny, and we decided to make some attempt
at a dinner. Blake produced a plum pudding, and this, together with
roast mutton and several kinds of vegetables, washed down with a little
claret, constituted our first Christmas dinner.
The sealing schooner, Clyde, had been wrecked without loss of life on
November 14, 1911, on the east coast, and was now lying on the beach
nearly half a mile away. A two-hundred-gallon tank had been saved
from the wreck and we managed on Christmas morning, after two hours of
carrying and trundling, to place it at the end of the Shack. This was a
valuable find, ensuring in the future a constant, convenient supply
of rain water. Further, we made use of the timber of the wreck for
building, and the broken pieces strewn about were stored up as firewood.
On the 26th we all went to the wireless station, and, as Sandell had the
aerial made, we pulled it into position. In the afternoon I unpacked
all my instruments and started them off so as to make sure that all
were working correctly. I did not intend to record any observations till
January 1, 1912, and therefore did not erect the meteorological screen
until the 28th.
On moving into our abode domestic arrangements were made. With regard
to cooking, each man took duty for a week, during which he was able to
write up his work and to wash and mend clothes. To Hamilton and Sandell,
who had had previous experience, frequent appeals were made as to
methods of cooking various dishes, but by degrees each one asserted his
independence. There were several cookery books for reference and each
week saw the appearance of some new pudding, in each instance prefaced
by the boast: "This is going to be the best pudding ever turned out on
the island!" The promise was not always made good.
We had a good deal of difficulty at first in making bread and several
batches were very "heavy" failures. This difficulty, however, was soon
overcome and, after the first few months, the cooking standard was high
and well maintained. Our stove was very small and only two loaves of
bread could be cooked at once. It frequently happened, therefore, that
the others, which would go on rising in the tins, overflowed; a matter
which could only be set right by experience.
On New Year's Day, 1912, we carried timber in relays from the wreck to
the top of Wireless Hill, so that the building of the engine-hut could
be started. The next few days were occupied in getting food-stuffs,
medicines, stationery, clothing and other necessaries over to the Shack
from the landing-place on the beach. Blake and Hamilton unpacked
their instruments and appliances, fitting up a small laboratory and
photographic dark-room in one corner of the hut.
Some kind Hobart friend had sent four fowls to me on the day of sailing,
requesting me to take them to Macquarie island. They were housed in one
of the meteorological screens, but on the third day from Hobart a heavy
sea broke on board, upset the temporary fowl-house and crushed the
rooster's head. The three hens were landed safely and appeared to be
thoroughly reconciled to their strange surroundings, though the presence
of so many large birds soaring about overhead had a terrifying effect on
them for several days. They did not appear to pick up much food amongst
the grass, but scratched away industriously all the same. I must say
that they were very friendly and gave the place quite a homely aspect.
One of them was christened "Ma" on account of her maternal and somewhat
fussy disposition.
On the first Sunday in the new year all except myself went along
the coast towards West Point. The party reported immense numbers of
sea-elephants, especially young ones. They also saw many wekas and three
ducks, shooting nine of the former for the kitchen.
The wekas or Maori hens are small, flightless birds, averaging when
full grown about two and three-quarter pounds. They were introduced
twenty-five years ago by Mr. Elder, of New Zealand, a former lessee of
the island, and multiplied so fast that they are now very numerous. They
live among the tussocks, and subsist for the most part upon the larvae
of the kelp-fly, small fish and other marine life which they catch under
the stones along the rocky shores at low tide. They are exceedingly
inquisitive and pugnacious and may easily be caught by hand.
Usually, when disturbed, they will pop under a rock, and on being seized
immediately commence to squeak. This is sufficient to bring every weka
within a quarter of a mile hurrying to the spot, and, in a few minutes,
heads may be seen poking out of the grass in every direction. The man
holding the bird then crouches down, preferably just on the border of
the tussock, holding the protesting bird in one hand. Soon there will be
a rustle, then a rush, and another furious weka will attack the decoy.
The newcomer is grabbed and, if the birds are plentiful, five or six of
them may be taken in one spot.
Their call is peculiarly plaintive and wild and may be heard night and
day. Though we saw and caught innumerable young ones of all sizes, we
were never able to find the nests of these Maori hens.
A depot of stores had been laid by the 'Aurora' at Caroline Cove, twenty
miles from the Shack at the south end of the island, and it was deemed
advisable to lay several more intermediate food-depots along the east
coast.
The sealers had a motor-launch which they kindly placed at our disposal,
and a supply of stores was put on board for transport. At 8 A.M.,
January 9, Sandell, Blake, Sawyer and Hamilton started out accompanied
by two sealers who offered to point out the positions of several old
huts along the coast. These huts had been built by sealing gangs many
years ago and were in a sad state of disrepair.
The first call was made at Sandy Bay, about five miles from the Shack.
Stores were landed and placed in the hut, and the party proceeded to
Lusitania Bay, eleven miles farther on, where they stayed for the night.
At this place (named after an old sealing craft, the 'Lusitania') there
were two huts, one being a work-hut and the other a living-hut. They had
not been used for sixteen years and, as a result, were found to be much
dilapidated. In the locality is a large King penguin rookery, the only
one on the island, and two dozen eggs were obtained on this visit, some
fresh and some otherwise.
As the next morning was squally, it was decided that the stores should
be deposited in the hut at the south end; a distance of five miles
across country. Through bog and tussock it took the party four hours to
accomplish this journey. The hut was found in the same condition as the
others and a rather miserable night was spent. A short distance from
this spot is situated the largest penguin rookery on the island. On
returning to the launch, the six men had a quick run of three hours back
to the north end.
During the absence of the party I had been busy erecting a stand for the
anemo-biagraph. Ordinarily, such an instrument is kept in a house, the
upper section only being exposed through the roof. The Shack was in
a position too sheltered for my purpose, so I built a place for the
anemo-biagraph behind a low rock well out on the isthmus.
Sandell and Sawyer reported on the 16th that the wireless station was
ready for testing. Therefore, on the following day, the three of us
erected a small set on the farthest point of the peninsula--North Head.
The set had been made in order to test the large station. Sawyer then
returned to the operating-hut and received signals sent from North Head
by Sandell, who in return received Sawyer's signals, thus showing that
so far everything was satisfactory. It was thought, after the tests,
that the "earth" was not by any means good and Sawyer erected a
counterpoise, which, however, failed to give anything like the "earth"
results. More "earths" (connexions by wire with the ground) were now
put in from day to day, and on the 27th Sawyer noted an improvement.
Successful tests were again made on the 30th. The wireless men now
expected communication with Australia.
Blake and Hamilton were soon making inroads, each on his own particular
sphere of work. On the 17th a baseline was laid down on the plateau, and
Blake was able to commence his survey of the island. He had already made
some geological investigations in the vicinity of North Head and West
Point, as well as for a short distance along the east coast. Hamilton
had visited nearly all the penguin rookeries in the vicinity, and
already had several fine specimens. Marine collecting occupied part of
his time and plant life promised to provide an interesting field.
[TEXT ILLUSTRATION]
The north end of Macquarie Island
From the intermediate position that Macquarie Island occupies relative
to Australasia and the Antarctic continent, it was highly important that
its biology should be fully determined. Investigation of the marine and
terrestrial fauna and flora shows several facts indicating the part this
island has played in the supposed connexion of the great land masses of
the southern hemispheres. It is an established fact that the flora of
New Zealand has strong sub-antarctic and South American affinities and
the problem is to account for this distribution. Many forms of plant and
animal life are circumaustral, being found in all suitable sub-antarctic
situations. To account for this fact two theories have been advanced,
namely, the Relict theory (Dahl, Schenck and others) and the Antarctic
theory.
The first theory supposes that the inhabitants of the sub-antarctic
islands are the remnants of groups of animals developed in some northern
land-mass, and driven south by more highly developed forms. Again, that
these sub-antarctic islands have always been separated from continents,
and that the distribution of life on the former must have proceeded over
wide stretches of sea.
The Antarctic theory accounts for the distribution and similarity of
sub-antarctic fauna and flora by establishing a connexion between the
sub-antarctic islands and the Antarctic continent. At the same period,
the Antarctic continent was assumed to be connected by land with South
America, South Africa and Australia, and the similar life forms now
found in these continents were driven northward by a subsequent colder
period. This theory is strengthened by several facts, chief of
which are, (1) the existence of an Antarctic continent, and (2) the
comparatively shallow waters between it, South Africa, Australia and
South America.
Whichever theory is adopted, it is evident that our scientific
opportunities were unique.
On the 28th, Sandell, Sawyer and I decided to climb on to the main ridge
or plateau of the island. We had already discovered that the easiest
way to get on to the hills was to follow up one of the many ravines or
gullies which run down to the sea. This necessitates walking in water
most of the way, but one soon gets accustomed to wet feet on Macquarie
Island.
The slopes rise in a series of terraces which are generally soggy and
covered with tussock (pleurophyllum) and with scattered cushions of
Azorella. The summit of the ridge is a barren waste, over which loose
rocks are scattered in every direction, while a wavy effect due to the
action of wind is plainly visible over the surface of the ground. The
steep, descending sides are very soft and sodden, supporting a scanty
growth of vegetation, including the small burr known as the "biddy-bid."
Hundreds of tarns and lakes are visible along the plateau-like ridge
which extends throughout the length of the island. Several of the lakes
are half a mile long and very deep. The tarns are, for the most part,
shallow with hard stony bottoms. The water is beautifully fresh and
apparently contains no life.
Skua gulls were plentiful and washed themselves, with a great flapping
of wings, in the shallow waters at the edge of the lakes. They paid
particular attention to our dog "Mac," swooping down and attempting to
strike her with their wings. A yelp at intervals came from Mac if they
were successful, though the former, if she were quick enough, would
spring at the bird and retaliate by getting a mouthful of feathers.
We eventually came out on to a point about seven hundred feet high,
overlooking the west coast, and it could be seen that the space between
the base of the hills and the ocean was occupied by a plain which sloped
very gradually to the beach. Here and there across its surface were huge
mounds of earth and rock and, occasionally, a small lakelet fringed with
a dense growth of tussock and Maori cabbage.
A descent was made to explore the place. A fairly large volume of water
flowed rapidly downward by several deep gullies and, coming to the
terrace, cut narrow, sinuous channels which were soon lost to view in
the tussocks. Examination of the watercourses revealed that this tract
was simply a raised beach covered with sodden peat and carrying a rather
coarse vegetation. The ground was decidedly springy and shook to
our tread; moreover, one sank down over the ankles at each step.
Occasionally a more insecure area was encountered, where one of us would
go down to the thighs in the boggy ground.
As the shore approached we came to thick tussock and Maori cabbage, and
the travelling became much rougher. A group of earthy mounds and rock
was sighted some distance away and we decided to reach them and have
our lunch. A nearer view showed us a large opening in one of these
prominences and we scrambled up to examine it.
Inside there was a small cave, high in front but sloping sharply towards
the back for a distance of thirty-five feet. The roof and walls were
blackened by smoke, and spikes and nails driven into crevices were
evidences that the place had once been occupied. Eagle Cave it is called
and its story was afterwards related to us.
Between thirty and forty years ago the schooner 'Eagle', in attempting
to make the island, had been caught in a gale and wrecked on the
rock-bound western coast. As far as can be learned, there were nine men
and a woman on board, all of whom were saved. They lived in this cave
for almost two years, subsisting upon what they could catch. Decayed
tussock grass, a foot in depth, now covers the floor, showing that some
attempt had been made to improve the comfort of the place, while bones
lying strewn about in all directions indicate that gulls, penguins and
cormorants must have supplied a good deal of their food. It is presumed
that some of them made a journey to North Head periodically to look out
for relief, as a well-defined track to that point is still visible in
places.
The tale, however, has its tragic side, for the woman died on the very
day when the rescuing ship called at the island. She was buried on the
isthmus, not far from our Shack. One would think that death was rather
a relief from such an existence as this unfortunate woman must have
endured, but, at the same time, it seems hard that she did not live to
participate in the joy of deliverance.
We ate our lunch and had a smoke, after which we decided to walk
homewards along "Feather Bed" terrace. A few minutes after leaving the
cave, Sawyer and Sandell caught three young ducks, which they carried
back, intending to rear them, but they died several days later. A weary
tramp brought us, thoroughly tired, to the Shack, where Hamilton had an
excellent meal awaiting us.
The weather during January was rather trying. Precipitation in the
form of either rain, hail, sleet or snow occurred on twenty-six days,
sometimes all forms being experienced on the same day. As a result, the
supply of water was well maintained; in fact, the amount caught exceeded
the consumption and we finished the month with the tank almost full.
Gales were experienced on eight days, the maximum wind-force being
forty-two miles an hour. The sky was mostly heavily clouded or
absolutely overcast and on many days the sun was not seen. Fog hung
about the hills almost continuously, and driving mist accompanied the
northerly winds.
January 24 was a glorious day, calm and sunny, with a maximum
temperature of 51.3 degrees F. The habit of former days induced Sandell
and myself to have a dip in the surf, but as the temperature of the
water was about 42 degrees F., we stayed in as many seconds. The mean
temperature for the month was 44.9 degrees F.; the minimum being 35.5
degrees F.
My first view of the island when the 'Aurora' arrived in December 1911
left rather an agreeable impression. The day of our approach was marked
by fine calm weather and the dark-green tussock-clad hillsides were
rather attractive. On the other hand, one was immediately struck with
the entire absence of trees, the steep precipices, cliffs and the
exceedingly rugged nature of the coastline.
Closer scrutiny shows that the tussock grass radiates closely from a
semi-decayed mass of leaf-sheaths, with the blades of grass shooting
upwards and outwards as high as three or four feet. Scattered through it
are patches of Stilbocarpa polaris, locally known as Maori cabbage. It
is of a more vivid green than the tussock and is edible, though somewhat
stringy and insipid. Our sheep ate it readily, even nibbling the roots
after the plant had been cropped down.
There were several Victoria penguin colonies round about the rocky faces
of the hills in the vicinity of the Shack, and their hubbub and cackling
uproar were something to remember. The rearing of the young appeared to
be rather a busy process. The young ones look like bundles of down and
seem to grow at a remarkable rate, while the attempt of the parent to
shelter the usual two chicks is a very ludicrous thing to watch.
The material for the nest made by these birds seems to depend almost
entirely on its immediate surroundings. The rookery is established on a
broken rocky face close to the water's edge and the nests are made under
rocks, in niches and passages, as well as amongst the tussock growing on
the rocks. Those under the rocks are constructed of small stones and
a few blades of grass, while those in the passages and fissures are
usually depressions in soft mud. Amongst the tussock a hole is first
made in the soft earth and then neatly lined with blades of grass.
The birds lay two or three eggs of a white or greenish-white colour, but
I have never seen three chicks hatched. The eggs are edible, and we used
many dozens of them during our stay.
The period of incubation is about five weeks, and male and female take
turns at sitting. A young one is fed by placing its beak within that
of the parent bird where the food--mainly crustaceans--is taken as it
regurgitates from the stomach of the latter.
Although the smallest species on the island, the Victoria penguins are
the most spiteful, and a scramble through the rookery invites many pecks
and much disturbance. They have a black head and back, white breast and
yellow crest, the feathers of which spread out laterally. During the
moulting season they sit in the rookery or perched on surrounding rocks,
living apparently on their fat, which is found to have disappeared
when at last they take to the sea. They come and go with remarkable
regularity, being first seen about the middle of October, and leaving
during the first week of May. The same rookeries are occupied year after
year, and the departure of the birds adds to the general desolation
during the winter months.
Their destination on leaving the land is still a mystery. Although they
are never seen, it is conjectured that they spend the winter at
sea. Their natural enemy in the waters round Macquarie Island is the
sea-leopard, and the stomachs of all specimens of this animal taken by
us during the penguin season contained feathers.
The presence of numerous bones just at the rear of the Shack pointed to
the fact that here must have been at one time the site of a King penguin
rookery. As many of our potatoes and onions were sprouting in the
bags, I determined to dig a portion of this area and plant the most
"progressive" of these vegetables. The sandy soil did not appear to
contain much nutriment, but I thought that something might be gained by
giving it a trial.
On the night of February 2, Sawyer reported that he had heard the
Wellington wireless operator calling Suva station, but, as no further
signals were heard from anywhere, he was inclined to the idea that it
was the experience of a "freak night." In explanation of this term, I
may say that it is used in reference to nights on which the atmospheric
conditions are abnormally favourable for wireless work.
The news was particularly encouraging, and for the next few days we were
on the tip-toe of expectation.
In the early morning of the 5th a howling gale sprang up and, increasing
in force as the day wore on, rendered work impossible. A tremendous sea
worked up, and the ocean for a distance of a mile from shore was simply
a seething boil of foam. Huge waves dashed on shore, running yards
beyond the usual marks, and threatening to sweep across the isthmus.
Masses of tangled kelp, torn from the outlying rocks, washed backwards
and forwards in the surf or were carried high up among the tussocks. The
configuration of the shingly beach changed while one looked at it. The
tops of the waves could be seen flying over Anchor Rock, seventy feet
high, and spray was blowing right across the isthmus.
On the advice of the sealers we had shifted our stores farther back from
the beach and it was just as well we did so, as the waves reached to
within a few feet of the nearest box. Meanwhile I began to wonder how
our benzine and lubricating oil were faring. Both had been stacked in
cases among the tussock and rocks, well back from the waters of Aerial
Cove on the western side of Wireless Hill.
Accordingly, Hamilton, Sandell and I went round in that direction the
following morning, while Sawyer made his way up to the wireless station
to see if there were any damages there. We worked along round the
cliff-front through a cave rejoicing in the name of "Catch Me," from the
fact that the waves rushed into it, frequently catching and thoroughly
wetting any unfortunate taken off his guard. A massive rock, evidently
broken from the roof, lay right across its centre, while on either side
of the obstruction were masses of greasy decaying kelp. We were "caught"
and floundered about in the kelp while the water surged around us.
Arriving at the Cove, we found that several cases were missing. One
was discovered buried in kelp, and a little later we came upon a tin
battered almost out of recognition. The loss was not serious, but the
precaution was taken to shift the oil still farther back.
While we were engaged on this task, Sawyer appeared on the front of the
hill above and signalled to us that the aerial had been blown down.
The three-inch rope keeping the aerial taut had broken off close to the
bridle and torn the halyard with it. It meant that some one would have
to climb the mast to pass a rope through the block, and the wind was at
this time too strong for anything to be done.
On February 7, Blake and Hamilton, who had been making preparations for
several days past, set out for Sandy Bay, intending to do some work in
that locality. Their blankets, sleeping-bag, instruments and other gear
made rather heavy swags, but they shouldered them in true Murrumbidgee
style and tramped away.
Sandell, Sawyer and I went up Wireless Hill to fix the aerial. Sandell,
the lightest of the three, was being hoisted up the first section of the
mast with some one-and-a-half-inch rope when the hauling-line gave way.
Fortunately, he had a strap securing him to the mast, otherwise his fall
would have been from twenty feet. This was the only rope we had, so
we had to think of some other means of reaching the top. After a short
discussion, I suggested that decking-spikes should be secured from the
wreck of the Clyde and driven into the mast at intervals. The idea was
followed with great success, and Sandell was able to run the halyard
through the block at the top (ninety feet). The aerial was then hauled
into position, the stay-wires were tightened, an extra "dead man" was
put in and the station was once more ready for work.
Hamilton returned from Sandy Bay on the 11th laden with botanical
trophies and four specimens of a small land bird which we had never
before seen. He and Blake, who remained behind, had fixed up the hut
there so that it afforded decent shelter.
On the night of the 13th what we had long expected happened. Wireless
communication was established for the first time, with a ship--s.s.
'Ulimaroa'. Sandell and Sawyer were complimented on their success.
On the following night communication was held with Sydney, s.s.
'Westralia', s.s. 'Ulimaroa' and H.M.S. 'Drake'; the latter very
courteously sending us time-signals. We heard that a wireless station
had just been established in Melbourne, and that the Hobart station
would be working in about one month. It was with the latter station that
we expected to do most of our business. There was great joy in the camp
now that this stage of practical efficiency was reached and because we
were no longer isolated from the world.
Blake came back from Sandy Bay on the 16th with news that he had almost
finished the survey of that section. Foggy or misty weather gave him
a good deal of trouble in getting sights with the theodolite, and it
became part of his future programme to devote the "impossible" days
to plotting data, writing up field-notes, and making geological
collections.
The afternoon of the 17th was fine, and I went along the beach
towards West Point and found it very rough travelling. Hundreds of sea
elephants, mostly of the season's young, lay about in the tussock or
amongst the rocks. The young, silver-grey in colour, looked very sleek
and fat. The adults consorted in groups of from eight to ten, packed
closely and fast asleep. They seemed to fairly luxuriate in a soft,
swampy place and were packed like sardines in some of the wallows.
Large numbers of skua gulls, creating a dreadful din, drew my attention
to a spot amongst the rocks, and, on nearing it, I found them squabbling
around the carcase of a xiphoid whale, about sixteen feet long, which
had been cast up apparently only a few hours before.
The skuas, as they are commonly called, are large brown birds which
resort to the island in great numbers for the purpose of breeding.
They stay longer than any other migrant, being absent only three months
during the depth of winter. Returning early in August, they do not start
nesting until the beginning of October. The nests, nicely made of grass
and plant leaves, are generally built on the terraces and slopes amongst
the hills. The ideal site, however, is a pleurophyllum flat adjoining a
penguin rookery. Two or three eggs of a brown or greenish-brown colour
with darker spots or blotches are laid about the end of October, and,
from this time till the chicks are reared, the parent exhibits much
annoyance at the presence of any person in the vicinity. They utter
shrill cries and swoop down continuously in an attempt to strike the
invader with their wings. Several of our party received black eyes as a
result of attacks by skuas.
The young grow rather quickly, and not much time elapses before they
leave the nest to stagger round and hide amongst the vegetation. The
parents fly down and disgorge food, which is immediately devoured by
the young ones. The skuas are bare-faced robbers and most rapacious,
harassing the penguins in particular. They steal the eggs and young of
the latter and devour a great number of prions--small birds which live
in holes in the ground. The skuas are web-footed, but are very rarely
seen in the water.
Towards the end of the month, Blake spent two days at Sandy Bay and then
returned to work up his results.
Hamilton, in order to get into close touch with another species of
penguin, stayed several days at "The Nuggets," two and a half miles down
the eastern coast. A creek flows into the sea at this point, and many
Royal penguin rookeries are established along its course.
Meanwhile, many improvements had been effected in the interior of the
Shack. Shelves lined the walls wherever it was convenient to have them,
and many perishable foodstuffs had been brought inside. Comfort, after
all, is but a relative matter, and, as far as we were concerned, it was
sufficient.
Our clothing was all that could be desired, with the exception, perhaps,
of the boots. In the equipment were included one pair of sea-boots, one
pair of raw hide kneeboots and two pairs of rawhide hunting boots. The
latter were not heavy enough, and soon showed the effect of travelling
from a water-logged surface to one of rock and vice versa. In fact, our
boots were very rarely dry on Macquarie Island.
An event of some moment occurred on the 28th. The fowls, in order to
justify our confidence in them and as a return for our constant care,
commenced to lay and, strange to say, all began to lay at the same time.
Ma, who was greatly concerned during the turn of affairs, suffered from
prolonged attacks of cackling.
During the opening days of March, Blake and Hamilton were engaged in
field work down the island. They went as far as "The Brothers," a rocky
promontory about two miles south of Sandy Bay. Wekas were so plentiful
that they lived almost entirely on them. Blake, on returning to the
Shack, had a badly blistered heel which kept him indoors for a few days.
Hamilton, who had secured a goodly number of specimens, had to attend
immediately to their preservation.
There were many rats on the island and we frequently heard them
scuttling about on the ceiling of the Shack and slithering down between
the lining and the wall. Hitherto they had contented themselves by doing
this, but on the night of the 7th several of them flopped one after
another into the hut, awakening the inmates. On getting out to
investigate I found a hole through the lining, about seven feet from the
floor, and two or three were rustling about on the shelves. After much
shifting of boxes and searching behind tins, the intruders were killed.
On March 10 our station held communication with Suva at a distance
of two thousand four hundred miles; a remarkable performance for a
one-and-a-half-kilowatt wireless set.
Hamilton and I set out for West Point and Eagle Cave on the 11th with
the object of examining the flora of the locality and, incidentally, to
shoot ducks which frequent the pools on the "Feather Bed" terrace. The
weather was dull and misty and the walk very uncomfortable. We made our
way across this treacherous tract, often sinking kneedeep. As we neared
the first pool a duck rose and immediately paid the penalty. Although
we saw at least two hundred, only one was shot, owing to the fact that
there is no cover about and the ducks are too easily scared.
Close to Eagle Cave Hamilton gathered some plant specimens and, after
lunching, we set off home. Light, steady rain set in about 3 P.M.
and wet us thoroughly. We travelled back along the coast, finding it
fearfully rough but not so tiring as walking on the terrace.
Heavy snow fell during the night of the 11th. Among other things we
learnt by wireless that Amundsen had returned to Hobart with the news
that he had reached the South Pole.
Blake had just recovered from his blistered heel when he had the
misfortune to meet with a slight accident. He and Hamilton were engaged
cutting a track through the tussock from the Shack to the beach, when
the spade wielded by Hamilton struck Blake's foot, cutting through
the boot and inflicting a wound on the great toe. It was treated
antiseptically and bound up; Blake being laid up for a few days.
Cooking was still on the up grade. Everybody, as his turn arrived,
embarked on something new. Blake turned out a magnificent meat pudding
during his week, and Sawyer manufactured a salmon kedgeree. Sandell's
treacle pudding and Hamilton's soda rolls and date pudding were all
equally good, while I fairly surpassed myself with a roly-poly and some
pancakes.
Hitherto, Sawyer and Sandell had been coming down to the Shack each
night after finishing the wireless work, but on account of the bad
weather they determined to sleep up there and, with that end in view,
each built a bunk for himself; Sawyer, in the operating-hut, had
ample room for the improvement, but Sandell had more difficulty in
the engine-hut, finding it necessary to add a small structure to the
original one.
Good wireless work was now being done, and almost every ship trading
to eastern Australian ports gave us a "call up." Much difficulty was
experienced with the mast's stays, which frequently required tightening
on account of the "deadmen" working loose in the yielding peaty soil.
There were seven stays required for each mast, and Sandell spent much
time in attending to them.
Hamilton had found, some weeks previously, several nests of the sooty
albatross along the cliff-front on the eastern side of Wireless Hill,
and on the 21st he visited them for the purpose of photographing the
young in the nest. They were still in the downy stage, and vomited
vigorously on being approached.
These birds build their nests on ledges along the face of a steep cliff
and always betray the whereabouts of their nesting-place by wheeling
and soaring around the vicinity. When sitting, the bird utters piercing
calls for its mate and is thereby easily located. They make a nest of
grass, generally at the root of a tussock growing on the cliff-front,
and when the building is in progress the two birds sit side by side
entwining their necks, rubbing beaks and at intervals uttering their
harsh cries. One can approach and catch them quite easily, either at
this time or when sitting. The female lays one large white egg, which
has a peculiar and rather disagreeable odour. They have beautiful slaty
or bluish-gray plumage with a dark soot-black head, while encircling
the eye is a white ring which stands out conspicuously from the dark
feathers surrounding it. Like most other sea-birds they have the rather
revolting habit of vomiting quantities of partly digested food and fluid
when an attempt is made to get close to them. In this respect old and
young are alike. Their food is procured at sea, and consists of the
small forms of marine life.
Sandell and Hamilton went round to Aerial Cove on the 25th to collect
shells and to search for the missing lubricating oil. When coming home,
after a successful day, they discovered a cave quite close to Catch Me.
A lantern was secured from the Shack and they went back to examine it.
It penetrated for a considerable distance and opened out on the hill
side about eighty feet above sea-level. Many rocks hung down from
overhead, and altogether it appeared a very unsafe place. Blake went
along later and collected specimens from its floor.
We built a kind of annex to the Shack out of the cases of provisions;
each case being numbered and a list being drawn out setting forth the
contents of the case. This list was nailed on to the wall inside, and
besides being convenient for procuring the provisions, gave the cook, in
a coup-d'oeil, exact information and afforded him a glorious scope.
With regard to the coal-supply, our allowance at Macquarie Island had
been reduced by one-half, on account of the large amount of wreckage
lying on the beach. The weekly cook limited himself to three briquettes,
and these he supplemented with sea elephant blubber and wood, which he
gathered and cut up for use.
Each man commenced his cooking week on Saturday morning, and continued
until the following Friday night, when, after having cleared up, washed
the towels and cleaned the stove, he retired. The incoming cook, who for
half an hour had been prowling about keenly observant of "overlooked"
dirty "things" and betraying every sign of impatience to make a start,
proceeded at once to set a batch of bread, sufficient for one week,
which was baked early on Saturday morning. Five loaves had to be baked,
and as only two could be dealt with at a time, the chance of producing
at least one doughy loaf was reasonably high until every one became a
master baker.
For a time we had been rather hard put to it in the matter of having
baths, but the disability had been overcome by means of sawing a cask in
two; an expedient which answered very well. The bath was also used as
a wash-tub, each man taking charge as his cooking week came round. The
clothes were dried inside the Shack along a number of strings arranged
at the back of the stove. Darning and mending took a little time, and
our experiences in this direction were such as to demonstrate the wisdom
of putting in "a stitch in time."
In going over to the meteorological screen one morning I saw a giant
petrel flapping about in the tussock, gorged to such an extent that it
could not rise. I killed the loathsome bird with the rib-bone of a sea
elephant, and Hamilton made a fine specimen of it later on.
These birds, properly called giant petrels, are usually known as
"nellies" or "stinkers"; the latter title being thoroughly justified
on account of the disagreeable smell which comes from them. As may be
inferred from the name, they are the largest of all the petrels, and
measure about seven feet from tip to tip when on the wing. The
colour ranges through various shades from almost pure white to a dark
greyish-brown; some even appearing almost black. Very large and ungainly
when on the ground, they become most graceful when in the air, and soar
about without the slightest effort even on the stormiest days. I have
seen them flying into a forty-mile wind with absolute ease, never
moving a wing, but occasionally adjusting their balance. They are gross
scavengers, and eat apparently for the sake of eating. A carcase on the
rocks or beach attracts them in large numbers, and very soon they can be
seen pulling and tearing at it until thoroughly gorged, when they waddle
away into the water and sit there wholly unable to rise till digestion
takes place. If disturbed, they immediately disgorge and fly off. They
nest on the ground and lay one large white egg. When sitting, they
are reluctant to leave the nest and will squat there, vomiting
evil-smelling, partly digested food and fluid at any intruder. The
young, even in the downy stage, have the same habit.
When mating they go on with a queer kind of performance, which consists
of running around each other on the shore with wings outspread as if
displaying their charms, finally flying off or waddling into the water.
The persistently windy weather during March had an effect on everything
exposed to its force. Sandell discovered on the 29th that the rope
holding the wireless aerial had cut through, leaving only one strand,
which now bore all the strain. It was just a matter of days before it
would part, and, with a view to preventing a repetition of February's
happening, we went up to lower the aerial, but the frayed portion of the
rope would not pass through the block, so we had to leave it as it was
and wait for the inevitable.
Exceptionally low tides at the end of the month gave Hamilton a fine
opportunity of collecting marine specimens, and he secured amongst many
other things some striking anemones. Some difficulty was experienced in
preserving them, as they lost colour and shrivelled up. But a special
line of treatment was attended by fairly successful results. They were
put in shallow dishes into which sea-water was poured. Very soon they
attached themselves to the bottom and began to expand, finally opening
out to the fullest extent. With a view to narcotizing them while in this
condition, menthol was applied to the water but did not seem to have
much effect. Chloral hydrate was found to give the best results.
It killed them all, but, before dying, they elongated and detached
themselves from the bottom of the dish; after which they were taken out
and placed in formalin for preservation.
Blake had very little opportunity of doing much survey work during the
month, as he was hampered by a sore foot and the weather was wretched.
He therefore spent most of his time plotting data, making geological
investigations and collecting and naming specimens.
He and Hamilton had so far confined their attention to the northern
half of the island, and had resolved to complete the study of this area
before tackling the southern half.
The weather throughout the month was rather severe, and only two days
were really appreciated. Precipitation occurred on twenty-five days, but
the worst feature was the continuity of strong winds, which however did
not reach gale-force on more than three occasions. Much snow and hail
fell, the former accompanying winds with a southerly component, while
with the north-westers came the depressing mist or misty rain which is
such a characteristic of the place. Temperatures, as might have been
expected, were beginning to go down, and we experienced several very
cold days. The average temperature for March was 41.8 degrees, while the
highest was 46.9 degrees and the lowest 35.3 degrees F. on the 24th.
At 10 P.M. on April 1 the rope supporting the aerial parted. Sawyer and
Sandell were on duty at the time, but of course suspended operations
immediately. As before, the halyard also carried away and Sandell
henceforth resolved to shackle one end of the aerial to the mast, using
a short length of chain instead of the rope. The wreck of the Clyde was
once more our standby, providing a suitable length of chain and four
shackles. After completing this job, they had very little subsequent
trouble with the aerial.
Hamilton and Sawyer caught several three-pound fish on April 2,
and Sandell served them in good style. They were good eating, but,
unfortunately, were very much worm-infested. These parasitical worms
are about an inch and a half long and taper to a point at each end. They
penetrate right through the flesh and are plainly noticeable after the
fish is cooked. One has to dodge the worms as the meal proceeds: either
that or persuade oneself that they do not matter.
The flowing contours of the land in the vicinity of "The Nuggets"
suggested glacial action to Blake, and on the 4th, while making
geological investigations in that locality, he lit upon a well-defined
basal moraine. Needless to say he was very interested in the discovery,
and brought home a number of polished, striated boulders as convincing
evidence of his theory.
It was rather disappointing to find that the vegetables we had planted
were making little progress. They would shoot up at first very strongly,
like the "seed which fell on stony ground," but, as soon as a gale
arose, the tops turned black and shortly afterwards withered away. It
was apparently an effect of the salt spray which, in rough weather,
used to blow across the isthmus. Hamilton planted some willows and other
cuttings, which shared the same fate.
The winter had now arrived in real earnest, and the months which
followed were punctuated by a succession of gales, while we came
to recognize that it was an exceptional day when the hills were not
shrouded in mist. The only thing to do was to brace oneself up for the
ordeal and to put a good foot forward.
CHAPTER XXVI A LAND OF STORM AND MIST
by G. F. Ainsworth
A Heavy north-west gale was experienced on April 12, the wind attaining
a force of over fifty miles an hour.
As usual, a tremendous sea worked up very quickly, and sheets of spray
shredded across the isthmus. About 2 P.M. the wind shifted to west and
later to south-west; these changes being accompanied by fierce hail and
squalls of snow. During the night the wind moderated, heavy snow fell
and, when morning dawned, all the pools were frozen over and the island
was draped in white. It was the heaviest fall we had so far experienced.
On the 15th Hamilton and I shot several gulls for specimens.
The Dominican or black-backed gulls are very numerous and remain on the
island all the year round. They are rather pretty, being snow-white,
except on the upper part of the wings and back. Ordinarily their food
is obtained from the water, but at Macquarie Island they live almost
entirely upon the carcases left by the sealers, and are usually seen
defending their rights against skuas and giant petrels. They build nests
of tussock on rocks close to the water or maybe on the ground. Three
eggs, much like those of the skua in colour, but with a greener tint and
smaller, are laid, but generally only two are hatched. The young leave
the nest early and hide amongst the rocks, whither the old ones come to
feed them.
We now considered it advisable to prepare for the winter, and with that
end in view papered the inside of the Shack in various places. As the
cold winds were particularly searching, all faulty joints in the lining
were pasted over with any kind of paper we could find. A leak down the
outside of the stove-pipe was remedied, after a good deal of trouble,
by soldering a collar round the pipe where it passed through the roof.
Firing was an important consideration, so each man now brought home
several loads of driftwood every day, until we had enough to keep us
going for some months. There was a complete boot-mending outfit which
was put to a good deal of use, for the weathered rocks cut the soles of
our boots and knocked out the hobnails. Our supply of the last-named
did not last long, and several of the party used strips of hoop-iron in
their stead.
Blake found it necessary to make a kind of work-desk in his section, and
accordingly had a thorough rearrangement. He shifted his bunk up to a
height of about five and a half feet, very close to the ceiling; a fact
which necessitated some wriggling and squirming on his part to get into
the sleeping-bag. There was a fine open space left underneath, and he
managed to fix up his table very neatly.
Although they had intended to leave the work on the southern half of the
island until the spring, Hamilton and Blake set out for Lusitania Bay on
April 28 to make a short reconnoitring trip. It was thought advisable to
spend a few days down there, to improve the hut and generally speaking
to have a look-round. Both men had already visited the place and depoted
some provisions there. At 8 A.M. they started off, carrying their
blankets, sleeping-bags and a few other articles. Their proposal was
to go along the coast as far as Sandy Bay and from thence along the
hill-tops for the remaining ten miles.
Hail and snow-squalls succeeded each other at frequent intervals, and
by the time they reached Sandy Bay, all hope of proceeding along the
hill-tops was dissipated. They therefore kept near the coast. The going
was frightfully rough and the weather was very bad, so on making Green
Valley they camped in a small cave for the night. The floor was covered
with tussock, and, by searching amongst the rocks, enough pieces of
wreckage were found to keep the fire going. On the whole they passed a
fairly comfortable night. Mac proved a bit troublesome by persisting in
her attempts to curl up on or between the sleeping-bags, and by finally
eating the jam which had been saved for breakfast. The weather was quite
as bad next morning, but, after a meal of dry biscuit and cocoa, they
pushed on, taking four and a half hours to do the six miles. The next
day was spent making the hut weather-proof and fixing up a couple of
bunks. The provisions which had been cached were in good order and
abundance of firewood lay around, in the shape of old barrel-staves.
Just close to the living-hut was a works-hut containing boilers and
digestors which years ago had been used for procuring penguin oil, while
there was a rookery a few yards away from which the victims had come.
This rookery was the resort of King penguins, the largest of the four
species which are to be found on the island. They are magnificently
coloured birds, being bluish-grey on the back while the head is
greenish-black and on each side of the neck there is a brilliant yellow
band, shading to a greenish-yellow on the upper part of the breast, and
gradually merging into the glossy white of the lower part of the body.
They attain to a height of about three feet and weigh thirty pounds
approximately. The site of their rookery is a stony flat about a hundred
yards from the water, and here are collected between five and six
thousand--all that remain on the island.
They make no nest, the single egg laid being supported on the feet, and
kept in position and incubated in a kind of skin pouch which conceals
it from view. One would never guess the egg was there, for, on being
disturbed, the bird shuffles along, carrying it in the manner described.
The egg is large, tapering very much at one end and resembling a pear in
shape. They lay during December and January, and the young are hatched
in about six weeks. A peculiar feature about the young birds is that
the parents feed them for two seasons. They are covered with a coarse,
greyish-brown furry growth, and a year-old chick looks bigger than the
old bird. This furry growth is lost during the second year and the adult
plumage replaces it. The young utter a peculiar sound, something between
a squeak and a whistle. It is probable that the King penguins were never
so numerous as the Royal or Victoria penguins, but the fact remains that
they have not yet recovered from the wholesale slaughter to which they
must have been subjected over sixteen years ago.
Down on a strip of shingly beach the birds parade, when not in the
rookery or at sea getting food. Their proceedings strike one as being
extraordinarily human, while the dignity and gravity of the participants
are beyond description. On one occasion, a large number marching along
the beach were seen to halt suddenly and talk excitedly. Three birds
then left the main body, consulted together for a short time, and then
separated. The other birds immediately separated into three companies,
and each company stood behind one of the three already mentioned, who
were now some distance apart. The individuals of each party then talked
among themselves for several minutes, after which two parties joined
forces and marched off, leaving the third party staring after them.
I have lost myself for the time being amongst the penguins and shall
now return to Blake and Hamilton, who climbed on to the hill-tops the
following morning to spy out the land. The island is generally speaking
higher, and all the more elevated peaks are on the southern half.
They saw numerous rabbits, of which many were black, and Mac had the day
of her life amongst them. These animals were introduced to the island
about twenty-five years ago, and have gradually withdrawn to the
lonelier southern part, though occasionally odd ones are seen about the
northern end. They are very tame and live in holes amongst the rocks or
make burrows in the gully banks and broken hill sides.
Many lakes, frozen over, were seen, several of which were fairly large.
Altogether, the topography is similar to that of the northern end.
In an endeavour to improve the evening fare, a sweet broth consisting
of biscuit, milk, jam and sugar was tried but it was not a success;
Hamilton remarking that "even Blake had only one helping." On the
following morning they started for the Shack and chose the route on the
hilltops, as the ground was frozen hard; and, though there were frequent
snow-drifts into which they floundered occasionally, the surface for
travelling was much better than along the coast.
Hamilton slipped and hurt his ankle on the trip, and the boots of both
were just about worn out. They apprehended no difficulty in completing
their prospective work. Blake pointed out that the chart of the island
shows Lusitania Bay as being rather a large indentation, whereas in
reality it is almost a straight stretch of coast.
An earthquake shock was felt at 9.15 P.M. on the 27th. I was sitting in
the Shack writing up records at the time, and it seemed as if somebody
had struck the south-west end of the place a severe blow with a bag of
sand. Immediately afterwards a crashing sound, apparently some distance
away on the eastern side, indicated that some rocks on the cliff-front
had been dislodged.
Much rough weather was experienced during the month, and it rained,
hailed and snowed on twenty-five days. The wind attained moderate to
fresh gale-force on six days, and fog and mist were almost invariable.
The lowest temperature recorded was 32.7 degrees F.
The average relative humidity for the four months ending April 30 was 93
per cent., leading to copious condensation on the instruments exposed
to the air. It was necessary, therefore, constantly to attend and
frequently clean the thermographs, hygrometers and the wireless plant.
In the case of the latter, loss of power occurred in the form of "brush
discharge," and Sawyer had to take great care in order to guard against
this accident. He shellacked the condensers and other exposed parts and
found the proceeding rather effective. I noticed that the drifting snow
and misty rain managed to get down the opening leading to the liquid
surface of the anemobiagraph, thus altering the zero of the recording
apparatus. When this happened the instrument had to be dismantled and
set right.
We found it necessary to use sea elephant blubber in the stove in order
to warm the Shack, and a very small piece put on the fire at intervals
always ensured a good heat. Sea elephants had become scarce, so, in
order to lay in a supply of fuel for the next few weeks, we went round
to Aerial Cove on the 3rd and killed the largest animal we could find,
afterwards carrying the blubber round to the Shack. We came through
Catch Me and had the same old experience. Hamilton examined the contents
of the stomach of the sea elephant and found gravel, stones, cuttlefish,
beaks and "worms" in abundance.
A violent north-west gale during the early morning hours of the 4th
reached a maximum velocity of fifty-two miles an hour at 5.20 A.M., but
at 8 A.M. it began to weaken rapidly and an hour later had shifted to
west-south-west, coming from that point as a moderate gale for the rest
of the day. As was usual with winds having any southerly component, snow
and squalls of soft hail were experienced. With the exception of the
wind-vane, which was blown a few yards into the tussock, nothing was
damaged.
In the afternoon Blake and I had a trip down to the moraine which he had
found a few days previously. After a heavy one and a half hours' walk,
the last half-mile of which was along a creek bed, with water ankle-deep
all the way, we reached the spot: the site of one of the large penguin
rookeries up on the hills at the back of "The Nuggets." The sun showed
between squalls, and Blake took some interesting photographs of rocks
showing striae and other glacial characteristics. We battled with
one enormous boulder for some time before getting it into a suitable
position for the camera, and afterwards walked right through the glacial
area. The U-shaped character of the valleys was very pronounced, while
boulder-clay obtruded itself everywhere on our notice.
Hobart wireless station was by this time in working order, a fact which
greatly facilitated wireless business. Sandell took the engine to pieces
early in the month and gave it, as well as the fittings, a thorough
overhaul and cleaning. We received a message on the 7th, saying that the
'Aurora' was leaving Hobart on the 13th for a sub-antarctic cruise and
would call at the island. At the same time I was requested to send a
list of articles required. I found, after going through the stock
and consulting each member, that we needed nothing but strong boots,
cartridges, dungaree trousers, coarse salt, cigarettes and fresh
vegetables.
A persistent area of high pressure affected the weather conditions of
the island to the extent of shrouding us in fog from the 6th to the 10th
inclusive, and we did not catch a glimpse of the sun during that period.
The average daily temperature-range during this time was only 2.3
degrees. Such conditions have a rather depressing effect on the spirits,
but the cheering news we received on the 7th made some amends for the
lack of sunshine.
The sun appeared at last on the 11th and shone strongly, so Blake and
I went up to Wireless Hill to take some "shots" with the theodolite. I
noticed four of our sheep on the front of the hill, and, as there should
have been nine, Sandell and I, after finishing with Blake, walked out
to North Head to see if the others were all right. We found them on the
north-east side of the hill and drove them up to the rest of the flock.
From the hill-top we could see Hamilton engaged in skinning a large
sea leopard on the coast, so we climbed down to render any necessary
assistance. It was a beautifully marked animal, about eleven feet long,
and made a fine specimen.
Sea leopards frequent Macquarie Island in great numbers from the late
winter to the early summer, and may be seen lying about, sleeping close
to the water and apparently always very tired. They do not give birth to
the young there, and from observations I concluded that they were born
at sea. We had taken female specimens on several occasions, apparently
within a few hours of parturition, and as none had been seen with newly
born young, and no islands lay within several hundred miles, it was
presumed that the birth took place in the water. Until the young one is
weaned, its habitat is evidently in the water as we never saw an adult
suckling its offspring.
Sea leopards--long, lithe creatures with a reptilian cast of head--are
remarkably quick in the water. If one is disturbed on shore it opens its
mouth very wide, revealing a wicked-looking row of teeth in each jaw;
the canine teeth or tusks being very long and slightly curved.
Unlike sea elephants and seals they are solitary animals, and should
several of them be found on a small gravelly patch of beach they are
seen to be as far as possible from one another. We have never seen them
attempt to fight on the shore, but the gaping wounds and scars with
which they are frequently covered indicate that they treat each other
very severely in the water. They live on penguins, gulls, shags and
fish.
I saw several shags on one occasion very busy fishing, and between
diving intervals they would sit on the water. Suddenly one disappeared
under the water and the rest flew off; but in a few seconds the one
which had disappeared was thrown into the air and caught by a sea
leopard, who played in this fashion with the maimed bird for several
minutes before devouring it.
A few days previously we had received a request from Mr. D. C. Bates,
the New Zealand Meteorologist, for a daily weather report, and from the
12th onwards a message was sent nightly to Wellington, a distance
of about eleven hundred miles. In acknowledging these reports,
subsequently, the office referred to their immediate value in the issue
of daily forecasts, and expressed indebtedness to the Expedition.
The two species of penguins which leave the island during the winter
months had disappeared, and silence now reigned where formerly were
busy, noisy colonies. The departure of the migrants made the place seem
lonelier and, during the depths of winter when snow covers the ground
and the birds and animals are few in number, a more dreary spot would be
difficult to find.
The weather conditions were now rather severe, and as Sawyer and
Sandell worked from 8 P.M. till 2 or 3 A.M. every night and slept at the
wireless station, they were exempted from the necessity of coming down
to get breakfast during their cooking weeks. They now rested till about
noon, and arrived at the Shack every day in time for lunch. Hamilton,
Blake and I, each outside his own cooking week, took it in turns to
prepare breakfast.
Blake's fieldwork at the north end, more particularly in the vicinity of
West Point and North Head, was just about finished. West Point proved to
be an area of gabbro, a coarse-grained eruptive rock representative of
basic rocks, while North Head was composed of basic agglomerate, and
volcanic bombs were numerous.
Hamilton had got together a good collection of bird specimens, and was
now in quest of skeletons.
On the night of the 13th we witnessed a rather pretty auroral
manifestation. It assumed the appearance of a Noah's ark cloud, that is,
stretching from opposite points on the horizon and appearing to converge
at each one of these points. The light was a pale yellow, no other tint
being visible. In addition, a nebulous glow appeared at intervals in the
south.
We heard on the 16th that the 'Aurora' had sailed on that day from
Hobart and would arrive at Macquarie Island in about three weeks;
oceanographical work being carried out on the trip down. This was indeed
cheerful news, and we began to look forward to her arrival.
A fresh west-south-west gale during the early morning hours of the 17th
was accompanied by soft hail and snow-squalls, and the temperature at
9 A.M. was 31.2 degrees F. The ground was covered with snow and all the
pools were frozen over, but at 9 P.M. there was a rapid shift of the
wind to the north-west and the snow almost disappeared. Soft hail,
generally a little larger than tapioca and of the same shape, frequently
fell. These little pellets are formed of compressed snow and are
commonly supposed to be frozen cloud-particles mixed with raindrops
compacted by a high wind.
On the following night, Blake and I went up to wireless Hill to take
star observations. It was very dark and the hill-front was slippery,
frequent falls being the rule. Just after setting up the instrument, the
wind freshened to such an extent that it was impossible to do anything,
so we descended very wet and muddy to the Shack, having had a rough
passage. The reason for this was that I fell on the lantern and
extinguished the light.
We were supplied with two hurricane lamps which do not by any means
deserve their title as they blow out in even a moderately strong wind.
Sandell made a lantern for his own use, declaring that it was impossible
for any wind to blow it out. I firmly believed him, as it was a little
binnacle lamp placed inside a small oatmeal tin into which a cleaned
photographic plate had been fixed and with holes punched in the bottom
and top of the tin for ventilation. It was thus a lamp with two covers,
and frequent demonstrations of its ability to survive heavy blows were
made by the inventor.
During the next three days a forty-mile wind accompanied by snow, hail
and sleet was experienced and the maximum temperature on the 25th
did not reach freezing-point, the ground being firmly frozen and
snow-covered. During the evening of the last-named date the wind shifted
to north-west, and by noon on the 26th no snow remained, except on the
hills.
In anticipation of the 'Aurora's arrival, Blake and Hamilton collected
some stores together in the hope that Captain Davis would transport them
down to Lusitania Bay, thus obviating the necessity of carrying them
down on foot. As Blake reckoned that he would remain there fully three
months and Hamilton about two months, it was thought that such another
opportunity might not present itself.
Through the courtesy of the naval officials, H.M.S. Drake sent us
time-signals twice a week, and though we had so far heard no sound from
Adelie Land, there was a possibility that they could receive messages
from us. Sawyer therefore sent out time-signals as a matter of routine.
Hamilton made a trip to the west coast on the 28th and returned with
thirteen wekas. Sawyer did not care for these birds, but each of the
others could account for one at a meal. They seem to be better eating if
plucked like a fowl and roasted, but the plucking takes too long and
we generally skinned and boiled them. It is advisable to hang them for
several days before cooking as it certainly makes them tender.
Rough, stormy weather prevailed during the greater part of the month and
the wind reached the force of a gale on nine days. Much snow, soft hail
and sleet fell and some very cold days were experienced. The average
temperature was 40 degrees, the maximum being 44.7 degrees and the
minimum 27.8 degrees F.
A heavy snowfall occurred during the early morning hours of June 3, and
the temperature was below freezing-point all day. In the afternoon we
had rather an enjoyable time tobogganing down a steep talus-slope on the
east coast. A considerable struggle was necessary in order to get the
sledge to the top, but the lightning slide to the bottom more than
compensated for the labour.
We made wireless inquiries concerning the 'Aurora' at night, and were
informed by Hobart that a search for the Royal Company Islands was
included in her programme. It was therefore presumed that she was
engaged in prosecuting this search and would probably not reach us for
some days.
Hamilton killed a very fine sea leopard on the 5th and the skin, apart
from being unscarred, was handsomely marked. It should make a splendid
specimen. The stomach contained more than the usual number of worms and
one specimen of tape-worm, seven inches long and three-eighths of an
inch wide, was preserved.
Everything was going along in the usual placid manner on the 7th, when,
as we were just taking our seats for lunch, some one rushed in with
the information that the 'Aurora' was in sight. There was a scramble to
various points of vantage and she was soon observed coming up the east
coast very slowly. At 2.30 P.M. she dropped anchor in North-East Bay,
but, as it was blowing strongly and a nasty sea was running, no boat
was launched, though one may imagine how anxiously we watched for some
movement in that direction. As soon as it became dark a message was
"Morsed" to us to the effect that a boat would bring mails and goods
ashore in the morning if the weather moderated, and with that we had
to be content. Needless to say, business ashore was for the time being
paralysed, but a message was sent to the Secretary in Hobart advising
him of the Ship's arrival.
True to his intimation of the previous night, Captain Davis brought a
boat ashore at 9.30 A.M. and with him came several visitors who were to
be our guests for some days. They were Mr. E. R. Waite, Curator of
the Canterbury Museum and his taxidermist, and Mr. Primmer, a
cinematographer. Conspicuous in the boat was a well-laden mail bag and
no time was lost in distributing the contents. Letters, papers, and
magazines were received by every member of the party, and all the news
was "good." Some stores were brought along and, after getting these
ashore, we took the visitors across to the Shack and invited them to
make themselves at home.
Captain Davis also came along to the Shack and afterwards looked over
the wireless station. He returned to the ship just after lunch, and
Sandell, Sawyer and Blake took the opportunity of going on board.
Hamilton, in the meantime, piloted the visitors on a short trip round
to Aerial Cove, introducing them to Catch Me, where they were duly
baptized. They afterwards climbed up Wireless Hill and had a look at the
station, returning to the Shack much impressed with the rough nature of
the country.
Blake went off to the ship again, taking the stores which had been got
ready for transport to Lusitania Bay, as the captain had agreed to land
them when he visited there in a few days' time.
Amongst the cases which were landed was one containing the recording
apparatus for the tide-gauge. The other parts of this instrument had
been left on the island in December, but for some reason the clock and
charts had gone astray and were not found till the vessel was being
unloaded in Adelie Land. Some thermometers and a Robinson anemometer
had also been overcarried and, when they came to light, the latter was
immediately placed in commission.
Captain Davis sent a boat ashore on the morning of the 12th with an
invitation to come on board and lunch. I accordingly went out to the
vessel and, after lunching, had a thorough look over her, mentally
contrasting her spick-and-span appearance at the time with what it had
been when I left her in December. I went ashore again in the afternoon
and assisted the visitors to get their loads down to the boat, as they
were returning to the ship, which was leaving next morning on a sounding
trip down the island.
On the 14th we started to carry the stores across to the Shack on our
backs. We soon realized that seventy or eighty pounds was not a light
load over a half-mile stretch of rough, shingly beach, but succeeded in
transporting the onions, apples and potatoes before finishing for
the night. The other articles were brought over during the next two
afternoons.
The tide-gauge pipe, weighing about six hundredweights, and the box for
the housing of the recording gear had been landed in December round in
Aerial Cove, where a site had been chosen for the erection of the gauge.
Experience showed me that the place was unsuitable, so I took Hamilton,
Sandell and Sawyer round to the cove on the 15th and we decided, as we
had no boat, that it was impossible to carry the pipe round to the east
coast.
I had been making some tidal observations on an upright, fixed in a
comparatively quiet spot on the east coast, and it was here that I
contemplated erecting the gauge. Two snow-gauges, eight inches each in
diameter, were amongst the meteorological equipment and it appeared
that if these two were soldered together a suitable pipe could be made.
Further, the pipe was to be protected from the violence of the seas by
planks fixed round it. Sandell agreed with the idea and forthwith set
about soldering the two together and making a suitable float, the one
supplied being too wide. All that now remained was to erect the gauge.
The two following afternoons were devoted to stowing the new stores. We
carried everything across and stacked them at the south-west end of the
Shack. Unfortunately, the boots which we had ordered did not come, but
Captain Davis let us have five pairs of light bluchers out of the ship's
stores, and we reckoned that these with extra soles and a few hobnails
would hold out till August or September, when a sealing vessel was
expected.
The 'Aurora' returned from the south of the island on the 19th and
reported having had a rough experience in the north-east to south gale
which blew on the two previous days. The wind came out of the
north-east very suddenly on the 17th, and some very strong squalls were
experienced. A calm prevailed for several hours in the evening, but a
south-east gale then sprang up and blew all day on the 18th, gradually
working into the south and dying away during the night.
Early on the 20th the 'Aurora' steamed out of the bay, bound north as we
thought, but she returned again in the evening, and we signalled to know
if anything were wrong. They replied, "All well, but weather very bad
outside." She lay at anchor in the bay all next day as it was snowing
and blowing very hard from the south-west, but at 8.45 A.M. on the
22nd she disappeared in the north and we did not see her again for some
months. A few hours after her departure the wind increased in force, and
a continuous gale raged for the next five days.
Sandell and I now made a start at erecting the tide-gauge, and after the
lapse of five days got the instrument into position. We could work on it
only at low tide, for much rock had to be chipped away and numerous wire
stays fixed. The work was therefore of a disagreeable character. Its
appearance when finished did not by any means suggest the amount of
trouble we experienced in setting it up, but the fact that it stood the
heavy seas for the following eighteen months without suffering material
damage was a sufficient guarantee that the work had been well done.
A tremendous sea was running on the 25th as a result of the previous
two days' "blow" and a heavy gale still persisting. Spray was scudding
across the isthmus, and the sea for a mile from the shore was just a
seething cauldron. The wind moderated somewhat on the 26th, but strong
squalls were experienced at intervals throughout the day, and on the
27th a strong wind from the south-west brought rather heavy snow.
On the following day a westerly gale sprang up which shifted suddenly
to south-south-west and south-west in the evening and was accompanied by
fierce hail and snow-squalls throughout the night. Without moderating
to any extent the gale continued to blow on the 29th and passed through
west to west-north-west, finally lasting till the end of the month.
Something in the nature of a "tidal" wave occurred during the night
of the 28th, for, on rising the following morning, I was considerably
astonished to see that the sea-water had been almost across the
isthmus. To effect this, a rise of twenty or twenty-five feet above
mean sea-level must have taken place and such a rise appeared abnormally
high. Our coal heap, which we had hitherto regarded as perfectly safe
from the sea, was submerged, as shown by the kelp and sand lying on top
of it, and the fact that seven or eight briquettes were found fifteen
feet away from the heap.
Nothing at the wireless station was damaged and work went on as usual.
The wind used to make a terrific noise in the aerial wires, but this did
not affect the transmission of messages. The howling of the wind round
the operating-hut interfered with the receiving, at times making
it extremely difficult to hear signals; particularly on nights not
favourable for wireless work.
Hamilton was at this time concentrating his attention on shags or
cormorants. This species of cormorant is peculiar to the island, being
found nowhere else. They are blue-black, with a white breast, and on the
head they have a small black crest. At the top of the beak are golden
lobes, while the skin immediately round the eye is pale blue. They
remain on the shores of the island all the year and nest on the rocks
in or very close to the water. They form rookeries and build nests
of grass, laying three eggs about the end of November. The period
of incubation is six weeks. They live entirely on fish, and, on that
account, neither the birds nor the eggs are palatable. They are very
stupid, staring curiously till one gets almost within reach of them,
when they flap heavily into the water. They are easily caught when
sitting on the nest, but a shag rookery, like most other rookeries, is
by no means a pleasant place in which to linger.
I had the satisfaction of getting the first record from the tide-gauge
on the first day of July, but the clock worked erratically, requiring
some attention.
Hamilton had a lobster-pot set some distance from the shore and anchored
to a float, but unfortunately the pot was lost in the rough seas at the
end of June. He had a couple of fish-traps also, but, in view of this
disaster, he decided to set these in Aerial Cove, where the water was
quieter. Having a couple of sea leopard heads which required macerating,
he baited the trap with them and lowered it into the water, securing it
to the rock with a steel wire.
Taking advantage of a bright sun on the following day, Blake and
Hamilton went to "The Nuggets" and took some geological and biological
photographs, which on being developed turned out well. They had occasion
to enter one of the unoccupied huts down there and found a wild cat a
little more than half grown, which they caught and carried home with
them. He was of the usual tabby colour and by no means fierce, quickly
yielding to the coaxing treatment of his captors. He made himself quite
at home in the Shack, and we looked forward to a display of his prowess
as a rat-catcher.
A bright display of the aurora occurred on the night of July 4, the
ribbons and streamers of light being well defined and occasionally
slightly coloured. We could establish no connexion between this
extraordinary outburst and the fact that it occurred on American
Independence night, but it was certainly the most energetic
manifestation of the phenomenon we had so far witnessed. Many "glows"
had been seen, and also a few displays of the arch-shaped form, but none
had shown much activity or rapid movement.
The operator was requested by the Pennant Hills high-power wireless
station at Sydney to listen for signals tapped out during the daytime,
and Sawyer spent a couple of hours on certain mornings assisting in
these tests, which were attended with some success. We occasionally
received press news from land stations or from ships passing across the
Tasman Sea, but it was only a brief summary of the cable news: enough to
whet one's curiosity, rarely ever satisfying it.
Very cold, rough weather was experienced on the 6th and 7th and a
temperature of 26 degrees F. occurred on the latter date, while the
maximum did not reach freezing-point. Much snow and soft hail fell,
and the ground set hard. The weather interfered to some extent with
the tide-gauge clock, and it became so unsatisfactory that I took it to
pieces on the 9th and gave it a thorough cleaning, after which it had a
new lease of life.
We received a message on the 11th saying that the 'Aurora' had arrived
in Dunedin, "all well," but had experienced a very rough voyage which
greatly interfered with the dredging and sounding programme.
Our tank water gave out for the first time on the 12th. The
precipitation for a fortnight had been in the form of dry powdery snow
and soft hail, the wind blowing it off the roof before it had a chance
to thaw, thus robbing us of our usual water-supply. For a while we had
to use swamp water, which contained a good many insects of various kinds
and had a distinctly peaty flavour. Finding good water running from the
hill-tops down a deep gully on the east coast, three-quarters of a mile
away, we carried drinking water from there, using the other for washing
up.
The 13th was a most delightful day--bright sun, very little wind
and fresh exhilarating air. Blake and Hamilton went out early on a
photographing excursion, and, later on, the latter shot and skinned a
white giant petrel.
During the third week of July a very low tide exposed rocks, ordinarily
submerged, and Hamilton was occupied all the week in collecting marine
organisms, worms and plants and then preserving, bottling and labelling
them.
A most peculiar sight was witnessed on the 17th. Aerial Cove is a
favourite nesting-place for shags, and they may be seen in twos and
threes flying round in that direction almost any time during the day;
but on this particular day a kind of wholesale exodus from the cove
took place, and large flocks of them followed each other for a couple of
hours. They congregated on the rocks along the east coast, or settled in
the water in scores; the latter fact suggesting that the probable reason
for this extraordinary behaviour was the presence of unusual shoals of
fish.
We used to relax and have a game of cards occasionally, while our small
organ became a medium of much enjoyment. All the members except one
played well enough to enjoy themselves and to give pleasure to the
others. There was a distinct predilection in favour of "ragtime" and I
must say I liked to hear that music at frequent intervals. Any one
who plays a musical instrument knows that the mood of the player is
generally reflected in the character of the music, particularly when he
sits down and plays in a casual way.
The pursuit and killing of a sheep had now become something in the
nature of an experience, and when Sandell and I went hunting for one
on the 20th, we realized it before we reached home. The flock was
very timid, and when disturbed on North Head invariably came past the
wireless station close to the engine-hut. Sandell concealed himself
there with a gun, while I went out to startle the animals. They did not
fail to do their part, but Sandell missed and the shot frightened them.
He then rushed out and fired another shot as they were running, managing
to hit one, which immediately dropped behind and ran to the edge of the
cliff. We did not want to shoot the sheep at this moment, as it would
have fallen about two hundred feet, so we cautiously approached to drive
it away. The poor creature simply took a leap out into space and
landed on the talus below, down which it rolled to the water's edge.
We scrambled down and skinned it, having to carry the carcase along the
rocks at the base of the cliffs, and getting many duckings on the way.
On July 26 I went round to Aerial Cove with Hamilton to have a look
at the fish-trap, but it had disappeared, the wire having broken,
apparently through the continual friction against rock. He had
previously caught some fish in it, and it was rather a misfortune to
lose it so soon.
During the last week of the month we all had our hair cut. On arrival
at the island, several of us had it shorn very closely with the clippers
and had not trimmed it since then, growth being very slow. We had a
proper hair-cutting outfit and either Blake, Hamilton or Sandell acted
as barber.
Blake was an expert with the needle and did some really neat mending,
while with the aid of some woollen thread and a mug he darned holes in
his socks most artistically. He was the authority on how, when and
where to place a patch or on the only method of washing clothes. The
appearance of his articles when washed, compared with mine, made me
wonder.
Hamilton was busy, about this time, dredging in swamp pools and securing
specimens of the rockhopper or gentoo penguin.
The small gentoo penguins, like the King penguins, do not migrate and
are few in numbers. They form diminutive colonies, which are always
established on mounds amongst the tussock, or on the hill sides not far
from the water. Their eggs, which are globular in shape, are about the
best of the penguin eggs for eating, and if their nests are robbed the
birds will generally lay again, although I think they could not lay more
than four eggs. They build their nests of grass and plant leaves, and
occasionally have been known to establish a fresh rookery after their
first one has been robbed. They are more timid than any other species
of penguin, and leave the nests in a body when one ventures into the
rookery. The skuas take advantage of this peculiarity to the length of
waiting about till a chance presents itself, when they swoop down, pick
up an egg with their beak and fly off. The penguin makes a great fuss on
returning to find that the eggs are gone, but generally finishes up by
sitting on the empty nest. We have frequently put ten or a dozen eggs
into one nest and watched the proprietress on her return look about
very doubtfully and then squat down and try to tuck the whole lot under
herself with her beak.
Weather conditions were rough enough during July, but occasionally a
fairly quiet day would occur. High winds were experienced on ten days,
the greatest hourly average for any twenty-four hours being thirty-two
miles, but no day averaged less than ten miles. Precipitation occurred
on twenty-one days, mostly in the form of snow and soft hail. The mean
temperature was 37.7 degrees, with extremes of 43.3 degrees and 26
degrees F. The average percentage of cloud was 78; somewhat less than
usual and due to the greater frequency of south-west winds, which almost
always bring a broken sky.
Now that our life was one of smooth routine I devoted a good deal of
time to reducing the meteorological observations. Hourly pressure and
temperature readings as well as descriptive remarks, averages and other
details required to be summarized, and this occupied a considerable
amount of time, so I made a practice of spending a couple of hours
each day on the work, whenever possible, hoping thereby to pick up the
"leeway." I did not take too kindly to inactive writing in the Shack,
but the weather conditions were such that I was glad to stay indoors,
though that meant enduring the inevitable cold feet. The floor of the
Shack was never warm, and of course there were no carpets.
Mac developed a great animosity against the rats and thoroughly enjoyed
rooting them out on all occasions. The only explanation of their
presence on the island is that they had arrived in the ships which were
wrecked along the coasts. They got into the Shack several times, and we
simply brought in Mac and shifted things about till she caught them.
Rough weather occurred during the first week of August, and with
occasional temporary weakenings a gale blew throughout, reaching fifty
miles an hour at different times. Snow, hail and sleet fell every day,
and on the 3rd the temperature was below freezing-point all day. The
Shack, which always shook a little in exceptionally heavy gales, now
vibrated a good deal in a forty-mile wind, no doubt feeling the effects
of the beating it had undergone.
Blake found a cave running through North Head and went round, on the
5th, to examine it. He proved it to be about sixty yards from opening to
opening, and to widen out very much inside; the roof being about fifteen
feet above the floor.
Hamilton and Sandell went along the coast on the 6th and brought home a
dozen Maori hens for the pot. Hamilton secured some spiders, parasites
on birds and many beetles under the moss and stones on the site of a
penguin rookery, besides shooting a few terns.
The tern is a very pretty bird with light grey plumage, a black head and
red beak and feet. We found no nests on the island, though the fact that
the birds remain throughout the year implies that they breed there. They
fly very fast while not appearing to do so, but their movements are by
no means graceful. They flit about over the water close to the shore,
every now and then dipping down picking up morsels and keeping up a
constant, shrill squeaking.
The sea was so high on the 7th that it reached the weight of the
tide-gauge and, lifting it up, unshipped the recording gear, as the
steel wire flew off the wheel before the latter could take up the slack.
I deemed it advisable to use stout cord instead of wire in the future
and made a protective slot for the weight. I had blocked up the seaward
side of the pipe with rocks, but found that these caused a deposit of
silt so I had to get into the water at low tide and shift them all out
again to clean away the accumulation of sand.
Very heavy snow fell during the afternoon, the flakes being the size of
half a crown. A fresh north-north-west wind dropped to a calm at 4 P.M.
and almost immediately it began to snow, the island being quite white by
5.30 P.M.
Bright sunny intervals alternated with light snow-squalls on the 10th,
and the temperature was below freezing-point all day. It was pleasant
to be out of doors, and I walked along to the west coast to see if there
were any signs of activity amongst the sea elephants.
An unmistakable sign of the near approach of the breeding season was the
presence of an enormous old bull, almost too fat to move, lying on the
beach. Very few small ones were seen, as, on the arrival of the adult
males and females for the breeding season, the young ones leave for
a while, presumably in order to get fat for the moulting period, or
because they are afraid of the bulls, who are particularly savage at
this time. The full-grown bulls attain to a length of twenty feet, and
have a fleshy proboscis about eight or ten inches in length hanging over
the mouth, suggesting the trunk of an elephant. It is from this fact
that they derive the name of sea elephant.
There is a considerable disparity in size between the adult male and
female, the latter very rarely exceeding eleven feet, though we have
seen a few twelve and thirteen feet long. The females have no snout
development and some of them facially very much resemble a bull terrier.
The adults are called bulls and cows, while, curiously enough, in the
sealers' phrase, the offspring are referred to as pups. The places where
large numbers of them gather together during the breeding season are
known as rookeries! "Rookery" appears to me to be inapplicable to a
herd of sea elephants, though "pup" supplies a more apt description of
the young.
The pups, born during September or early October, are covered with a
long, black, wavy fur, which they lose when about two months old, and in
its place comes a growth of silver-grey hair, which changes later into
the ordinary brown colour of the full-grown animal.
The old males and females leave the island about the end of January, and
are not seen again (except a few stray ones) till August in the case of
the males, and until September in the case of the females.
The fact that the bulls arrive first leads one to the conclusion that
their feeding-grounds must lie at a considerable distance and, in the
journey therefrom, the males, being the stronger, should arrive before
the females, who are heavy with young and probably make a somewhat
leisurely progress, feeding by the way.
The rookeries vary in size, containing from half a dozen to four or
five hundred cows; in the last case, of course, being an aggregation
of smaller rookeries, each with its proprietor, in the shape of an old
bull, lying in or somewhere near the centre. The normal rookery, as far
as I could judge, seemed to be one that contained about forty cows, but
once the nucleus was formed, it was hard to say how many cows would be
there before the season ended, as females keep arriving for a period of
about three weeks.
The young vary in length from three and a half to four and a half feet,
are born within a few days of arrival and suckled for about a month,
becoming enormously fat. The cow, who has not eaten during the whole of
this time and has become very thin, then leaves the pup, but remains
in the rookery for about two days, after which she escapes to sea,
remaining there till the beginning of January, when she returns to
the island to moult. The pups when weaned get such rough usage in the
rookery that they soon make off into the tussock and sleep for about a
month, living on their fat and acquiring a new coat. The noise in one of
the large rookeries is something to remember--the barking of the pups,
the whimpering and yelping of the mothers and the roaring of the bulls.
Another feature in connexion with the rookery is the presence of what
may be called unattached bulls, which lie around at a little distance
from the cows, and well apart, forming a regular ring through which any
cow wishing to desert her pup or leave the rookery before the proper
time has very little chance of passing, as one of these grips her firmly
with his powerful flipper and stays her progress. The lord of the harem,
in the meantime, hastens to the scene of the disturbance, whereupon the
other bull decamps.
The sea immediately in the vicinity of a large rookery is generally
swarming with unattached bulls, who may be seen with their heads out of
the water eyeing each other and keeping a bright look out for escaping
cows. Now and again one may see a bull in the water gripping a cow with
his flipper, despite her struggles, and roaring at a couple of others
who show up menacingly quite close to him.
It may be remarked that towards the end of the season changes in the
proprietorship of a rookery are rather rapid, as continuous raids are
made by individuals from the outside. The need of continuous vigilance
and the results of many encounters eventually lead to the defeat and
discomfiture of the once proud proprietor.
I have never seen two bulls fight without first indulging in the usual
preliminaries, that is, roaring and advancing a few yards and repeating
the performance till within striking distance. Then both animals rear
high up, supporting themselves on the lower part of the body, and lunge
savagely with their whole weight each at his opponent's head or neck,
tearing the thick skin with their teeth and causing the blood to flow
copiously. Several lunges of this kind generally finish the battle,
whereupon the beaten one drops to his flippers and makes all haste
towards the water, glancing fearfully behind him on the way. We have
seen bulls with their snouts partly torn off and otherwise injured, but
worse injuries must occur in the rare, desperate battles which sometimes
take place between two very much enraged animals.
When a bull in the centre of a rookery has occasion to rush at an
interloper, he does so without regard to anything in his way, going over
cows and pups alike and very often crushing some of the latter to death.
Again, it seems as if all the outlying bulls recognize the noise of the
rookery bull, because each time he roars they all lift up their heads
and take notice, whereas others who have just been roaring have not
the slightest regard paid to them, except perhaps by one immediately
concerned.
The bull, during the breeding season, will on provocation attack a man,
and it is surprising how quickly the former covers the ground. But on
the whole he is an inoffensive animal. It is, of course, impossible to
venture into a rookery, as the cows are very savage when they have the
pups with them, but one can approach within a few yards of its outskirts
without danger. Their food consists of cuttlefish, crabs and fish,
and it is probable that they frequent the ocean where this food is
plentiful, when they are absent from the island.
It has been stated that these animals are nearly extinct, but a visit to
Macquarie Island during the breeding season would be enough to convince
anybody to the contrary. There are thousands of them, and though about
seven hundred are killed during a season, the increase in numbers each
year, on Macquarie Island alone, must be very great.
The skuas were now returning to the island and their numbers and
corresponding clamour were daily increasing. They were the noisiest and
most quarrelsome birds we had, but their advent, we hoped, marked the
return of less rigorous weather.
Blake left for Lusitania Bay on the 17th, intending to spend several
months there in order to survey and geologically examine the southern
end, so we gave him a send-off dinner. He had a very rough trip to the
place, having to spend two nights in a cave about six miles from his
destination, as a result of getting lost in a dense fog.
Hamilton made a wire fish-trap to replace the one which he had lost, and
succeeded in getting a few fish on lowering it for the first time. He
discovered parasitical mites all over them on the outside, and the flesh
contained many worms.
A heavy north-north-west gale was experienced on the 26th, but the
weather during the last three days of August was very quiet, either
calms or light winds prevailing, and we took the opportunity to do some
work on Wireless Hill. All the wire stays were tightened, and various
ropes which appeared to require attention were renewed, while, as a
final improvement, the aerial was hauled as tight as we could make it.
We heard on July 31 that the 'Rachel Cohen', a sealing-vessel, had
sailed for Macquarie Island and was bringing a few articles for us,
so there was something to which we could look forward in the immediate
future.
The most remarkable feature of the month's weather was the wind, as
gales blew on eleven days, and on seven other days the velocity reached
twenty-five miles per hour. Precipitation occurred on twenty-seven
days, and the average percentage of cloud was eighty-four. The mean
temperature was 38.1 degrees with extremes of 45.3 degrees and 26
degrees F. A prolonged display of auroral light occurred on the night
of the 17th, though no colours other than the light lemon-yellow of the
arch and streamers could be seen.
Bull elephants were now arriving in great numbers, and these monsters
could be seen lying everywhere on the isthmus, both up in the tussock,
on the beaches, and among the heaps of kelp. Now and again one would
lazily lift a flipper to scratch itself or heave its great bulk into a
more comfortable position.
The island is the habitat of two kinds of night-birds, one kind--a
species of petrel (Lesson's)--being much larger than the other, both
living in holes in the ground. They fly about in the darkness, their
cries resembling those made by a beaten puppy. The smaller bird
(apparently indigenous and a new species) was occasionally seen flying
over the water during the day, but the larger ones come out almost
exclusively at night. A light attracts them and Hamilton, with the aid
of a lantern and a butterfly-net, tried to catch some. Others swooped
about, well out of range, shrieking the while in an uncanny way. Numbers
of them were secured afterwards by being dug out of their holes, Mac
being just as keen to locate them as Hamilton was to secure them. They
cannot see well during the day, and seem to have almost lost the use of
their feet. They lay two small, white, thin-shelled eggs at the end of
their burrow; and in certain parts of the island, where the burrows are
numerous, the sound made by hundreds of them at once, during the nesting
season, somewhat resembles that made by a high-power Marconi wireless
set at close range.
Before Blake left Lusitania Bay, I promised to see that the hut on Sandy
Bay was re-stocked with provisions by the middle of the month, so, on
the 8th, Hamilton, Sandell and I carried a supply of stores down there,
leaving a note which informed him that we expected the 'Rachel Cohen' to
arrive any day, and asking him to return to the Shack. On the way down
we came upon a vast quantity of wreckage piled up on the beach, midway
between "The Nuggets" and Sandy Bay. This was all that remained of the
sealing schooner, 'Jessie Nichol', which had been wrecked on December
21, 1910. Three men were drowned, their bodies being interred among the
tussock, each marked by a life belt and a small board on which the name
was roughly carved.
On our homeward trip we caught some wekas for the pot and duly arrived
at the Shack, tired, wet and hungry.
Next day, while sitting in the Shack reducing records, I heard a yell
from Hamilton to the effect that the 'Rachel Cohen' was in sight, and
about an hour later she dropped anchor in North-East Bay.
The sea was fairly smooth and no time was lost in bringing a boat ashore
with the mails, of which each man received a share. A gang of sealers
was landed with a view to obtaining sea elephant and penguin oil. I
had wirelessed asking for a dinghy to be sent down, which would enable
Hamilton to do more marine work; and it now came to hand. Further, we
received an additional supply of photographic material and some rubber
tubing for the anemometer, but the much needed boots did not arrive.
On the 18th a strong southerly gale sprang up and compelled the 'Rachel
Cohen' to seek safety in flight; so she slipped her cable and put to
sea. She had not yet landed all the sealers' stores and was forced to
hang about the island till the weather moderated sufficiently for her to
return to an anchorage.