THE WINTER CLOSES IN
The closing down of the Polar night was very swift now and the few hours
of gray daylight were employed collecting what data was required by
certain members for working on during the forthcoming days of darkness.
Young Gran was handed over to me to help with the survey work and
astronomical observations which had to be taken from time to time. He was
a most entertaining assistant. Without complaint, he stood patiently
shivering in that cutting winter wind whilst I swung around the
theodolite telescope and took angles for him to write down in my
notebook. I don't think anybody has made a triangulated survey under
conditions worse than we endured that epoch: the weather was beastly and
we spent much time dancing when nearly sick with cold, our fingers tucked
under our arms to recover their feelings. When one's extremities did get
frost-bitten it was no joke--frost-bitten finger tips gave us little
peace at night with their sharp burning pain.
The most interesting part of the survey work was what is known to the
surveyor as coast-lining. This meant walking along the edge of the sea
ice, fixing one's position by sextant angle every five hundred yards or
so, and sketching in a notebook the character and features of the ever
changing coast between the various "fixes." One could keep warm doing
this and one saw more of the land and ice formation than the others, for
it meant following carefully round-cape and glacier edge, penetrating
inlets and delineating every islet, promontory, cliff, and talus.
In spite of the cold, the gloom, and the sad whistling wind that heralded
the now fast approaching darkness, I felt glad to work with my sextant
and sketch-book under the shadow of those fantastic ice-foots hung round
with fringes of icicle. I loved to go with Gran into the deep bays and
walk for miles under the overhanging of the vast ice cliffs all purple in
the reflection of the early winter noon, and to come out sometimes as we
did on to the sea ice clear of a jutting glacier, to face suddenly
northward over the frozen sea where nothing but a great waste of ice
stretched away to meet the horizon and the rosy, copper glow of the
departed sun's rays. Some of the cloud effects at the end of April were
too wonderful for mere pen or brush to describe. To appreciate them one
must go there and see them, those wonderful half-light tints.
Then there were the ice caves and grottos which were formed in the
grounded icebergs that had overturned before we came, and the still more
wonderful caves in the ice-sheet where it over-rode Ross Island and
formed a cliff-face between Cape Evans and Glacier Tongue,
extraordinarily like the white chalk cliffs of Studland Bay I found them,
with here and there outstanding pinnacles which a little imagination
would liken to Old Harry Rocks when the gray light was on them.
At the most we could only take sextant and theodolite angles for two
hours on either side of noon, so Gran and I went without our lunch,
taking a few biscuits and some chocolate out with us on our survey days,
and as we worked farther and farther from our base we found it necessary
to start out in the darkness in order to take full advantage of what
light was vouchsafed us. It was good healthy work and we developed
glorious appetites, so that our mouths ran with water when perhaps we met
a couple of fellows leading the little white ponies on the sea ice for
exercise, and they told us what they had had for lunch and what was being
kept for us. We found it all most interesting and, although I detested
that sunless winter, I loved the changing scenery, which never seemed
monotonous when there was any daylight or moonlight. To mark our
"stations" we used red and black bunting flags, and they showed up very
well. We gave them all sorts of weird names, such as Sardine, Shark, and
so forth, and we knew almost to a yard their distances from one another,
as also their bearings, which helped us when we were overtaken by bad
weather. Eventually it became too dark for any survey work, but there was
always plenty to do indoors for the majority of us. Apart from our
specialist duties some one was always to be found who could give
employment to the willing--there were no idlers or unwilling folk amongst
us. Simpson, for example, would employ as many volunteers as he could get
to follow the balloons which he frequently sent up to record temperature
and pressure. To each of these balloons a fine silk thread was attached,
or rather the thread was attached to the little instrument it carried.
When any strain was put on the thread it broke the thread connecting the
small temperature and pressure instrument to the balloon, the former
dropped on to the ice and was recovered by one of the volunteers, who
followed the silk thread up until he came to the instrument where it had
fallen. One required good eyesight for this work as for everything else
down here, and I have never ceased to marvel at the way Cherry-Garrard
got about and worked so well when one considers that he was very
short-sighted indeed.
Everybody exercised generously, whether by himself on ski, leading a
pony, digging ice for the cook or ice to melt for the ponies' drinking
water, or even with a whole crowd playing rather dangerous football on
the sea ice north of Cape Evans.
When the real winter came I used to walk, after winding the chronometers,
until breakfast time to begin with. This gave me half an hour, then again
before lunch I would put on ski and go for a run with anybody who had not
a pony to exercise. The visibility was frequently limited, particularly
on overcast days; one would glide along over the sea ice, which was in
places wind-swept and in others covered with snow. Nothing in sight but
the gray-white shadow underfoot and the blue-black sky above, a streak or
band just a mere smudge of daylight in the north, but this would be
sufficient to give one direction to go out on. Then slowly, dim,
spectre-like shapes would appear which would gradually sort themselves
out into two lots, black and white--these were Titus's ponies--the white
shapes, the black were the men leading them. On they came, seemingly at a
great pace, and one heard a crunching noise as the hoofs of the ponies
trod down the snow crust, but one could not hear the footfalls of the
men. One exchanged a "Hallo" with the leading man and passed on until a
much bigger white shape loomed up in the obscurity of the noon-twilight,
the going underfoot changed and skis fetched up against a great lump of
ice which was scarcely discernible in the confusing darkness, and one
realised that what little light there was to the northward had been
blotted out by one of the big grounded icebergs. Directly one realised
which berg it was a new course would be shaped, say to the end of the
Barne Glacier; the cliffs of this reached, one proceeded homeward a
league to the hut. This could not be missed on the darkest day if the
coast-line was followed, and, at last, when stomach cried out like a
striking clock, one realised that it was 2 p.m. or so, and a little glow
indicated the whereabouts of the hut. Approaching it, one saw the tall
chimney silhouetted against the sky, then the black shapes which oddly
proclaimed themselves to be motor-sledges, store heaps or fodder dumps,
and finally the hut itself. One stumbled over the tide-crack and up on to
the much trodden snow which covered the Cape Evans's beach. Six or seven
pairs of skis stuck in the snow near the hut door indicated that most
people had come in to lunch, so there was need to haste. Off came one's
own skis, and with a lusty stab in they went heel downwards into the snow
alongside the other ones, so that when a new fall came they would stand
up vertically and be easily found again.
The sticks one took into the hut, because even in our well-appointed
family there were pirates who borrowed them and forgot to replace them.
Entering the hut after kicking much snow from boots one passed first
through the acetylene smelling porch--Handy Andy's pride--as we called
Day's gas plant, then in to the seamen's quarters, where the smell of
cooking delighted and the sight of those great, hefty sailors scoffing
the midday meal hustled one still more.
In the officers' half of the hut most people were already busy with their
knives and forks, two or three perhaps just sitting down, the night
watch-man probably sitting up on the edge of his bunk putting on his
slippers, and cheerfully accepting the friendly insults from his pals at
table who told him the date and year--down went ski-sticks on the bed,
room would be made at the table, and half a dozen dishes pushed your way,
and although the mess-traps were enamelled, the food you shuffled down
from the tin plate and the cocoa you lapped from the blue and white mug
had not its equal at the Carlton, the Ritz, or the Berkeley.
Concerning the night watchman and his duties, although we had so many
self-recording instruments, there were certain things which called for
attention during the silent hours. Aurora observations had to be made
which no instrument would record, movement of clouds had to be noted in
the meteorological log, the snow cleared from the anemometer and so
forth, then of course rounds had to be made in case of fire, ponies and
dogs visited, the galley fire lit or kept going according to
requirements, and so on. Night watch-keeping duty was only undertaken by
certain members chosen from the afterguard. Scott himself always took a
share in this, as he did in everything else that mattered. One came to
welcome the night on, for the attendant work was not very strenuous and
the eight hours' quietude gave the watchman a chance to write up a
neglected diary, to wash clothes, work out observations, and perhaps make
contributions to the "South Polar Times" undisturbed by casual
well-wishers who were not meant to see the article in question until the
day of publication. We were allowed to choose from the stores more or
less what we liked for consumption in the stillness of the night watch. I
always contributed special China or Ceylon tea for the benefit of the
lonely watchman--I had two big canisters of the beverage, a present from
one of our New Zealand well-wishers, Mrs. Arthur Rhodes of Christchurch,
and these lasted the afterguard watch-keepers through the Expedition.
The auroras were a little disappointing this first winter as seen from
Cape Evans, they were certainly better seen from the Barrier. We only got
golden bands and curtains splaying in the heavens, except for one or two
rare occasions when there were distinct green rays low down amongst the
shafts of weird light farthest from the zenith.
In view of the possibility of a second winter one kept a few letters
going which contained a little narrative of our work to date. We had most
imposing note-paper which was used for these occasions: the crest
consisted of a penguin standing on the South Pole with the southern
hemisphere underfoot, a garter surrounding this little picture inscribed
with "British Antarctic Expedition--'Terra Nova' R.Y.S." Alas, some of
the letters were never delivered, for death not only laid his hand upon
certain members of the Expedition, but also upon some of our older
friends, supporters, and subscribers.
One passed out of the hut hourly at least and, on moonlight nights
especially, one found something beautiful in the scenery about Cape
Evans. At full moon time everything turned silver, from towering Erebus
with gleaming sides to the smooth ice slopes of Ross Island in the
north-east, while away to the southward the high black Dellbridge Islands
thrust up from a sea of flat silver ice. Even the conical hills and the
majestic Castle Rock, fifteen miles away, stood out quite clearly on
occasions. The weirdest thing of all was to hear the dogs howling in the
middle of the night, they made one think of wolves and of Siberia.
All things considered, the winter passed quickly enough: we had three
lectures a week, and our professional occupations, our recreations and
different interests soon sped away the four months' winter darkness. The
lectures embraced the technical and the practical side of the Expedition;
thus, besides each of the scientific staff lecturing on his individual
subject, Oates gave us two lectures on the care and management of horses;
Scott outlined his plans for the great southern journey, giving probable
dates and explaining the system of supporting parties which he proposed
to employ; Ponting told us about Japan, and illustrated his subject with
beautiful slides made from photographs that he himself had taken; Bowers
lectured on Burma, until we longed to be there; and Meares gave us a
light but intensely interesting lecture on his adventures in the Lolo
country, a practically unknown land in Central Asia.
In connection with the work of Simpson at the base station, I must not
forget the telephones. Certain telephones and equipment sufficient for
our needs were presented to us in 1910 by the staff of the National
Telephone Co., and they were very largely used in scientific work at the
base station as well as for connecting Cape Evans to Hut Point, fifteen
miles away. Simpson made the Cape Evans-Hut Point connection in
September, 1911, by laying the bare aluminium wire along the surface of
the snow-covered sea ice, and for a long time there was no difficulty in
ringing up by means of magnetos. However, when the sun came back and its
rays became reasonably powerful, difficulty in ringing and speaking was
experienced.
We used the telephones almost daily for taking time, and Simpson used to
stand inside the hut at the sidereal clock whilst I took astronomical
observations outside in the cold. We also telephoned time to the ice cave
in which the pendulums were being swung when determining the force of
gravity. Telephones were quite efficient in temperatures of 40 degrees
and more below zero.
Midwinter Day arrived on June 22, and here one must pay an affectionate
and grateful tribute to Bowers, Wilson, Cherry-Garrard, and Clissold the
cook.
To start with, we had to discuss whether we would hold the midwinter
festival on the 22nd or 23rd of June, because in reality the sun reached
its farthest northern Declination at 2.30 a.m. on the 23rd by the
standard time which we were keeping. We decided to hold it on the evening
of the 22nd, this being the dinner time nearest the actual culmination. A
Buszard's cake extravagantly iced was placed on the tea-table by
Cherry-Garrard, his gift to us, and this was the first of the dainties
with which we proceeded to stuff ourselves on this memorable day.
Although in England it was mid-summer we could not help thinking of those
at home in Christmas vein. The day here was to all intents and purposes
Christmas Day; but it meant a great deal more than that, it meant that
the sun was to come speeding back slowly to begin with, and then faster
and faster until in another four months or so we should find ourselves
setting out to achieve our various purposes. It meant that before another
year had passed some of us, perhaps all of us, would be back in
civilisation taking up again the reins of our ordinary careers which, of
necessity, would lead us to different corners of the earth. The
probability was that we should never all sit down together in a peopled
land, for Simpson was bound to be racing back to India with Bowers and
probably Oates, whose regiment was at Mhow; Gran would away to Norway,
and the other Ubdugs to Australia. One or two of us had been tempted to
settle in New Zealand, and the old Antarctics amongst us knew how useless
it had been to arrange those Antarctic dinners which never came off as
intended.
But to return to the menu for Midwinter Day. When we sat down in the
evening we were confronted with a beautiful water-colour drawing of our
winter quarters, with Erebus's gray shadow looming large in the
background, from the summit of which a rose-tinted smoke-cloud delicately
trended northward, and, standing out from the whole picture a neatly
printed tablet which proclaimed the nature of this much-looked-forward-to
meal:
Consomme Seal.
Roast Beef and Yorkshire Pudding.
Horseradish Sauce.
Potatoes a la mode and Brussels Sprouts.
Plum Pudding. Mince Pies.
Caviare Antarctic.
Crystallised fruits. Chocolate Bonbons.
Butter Bonbons. Walnut Toffee.
Almonds and Raisins.
_Wines._
Sherry, Champagne, Brandy Punch, Liqueur.
Cigars, Cigarettes, and Tobacco.
Snapdragon.
Pineapple Custard. Raspberry jellies.
and what was left of the Buszard's cake!
The menu was, needless to say, Wilson's work, the exquisite dishes
Clissold produced, the maitre d'hotel was Birdie, and Cherry-Garrard the
producer of surprises in the shape of toys which adorned the Christmas
Tree that followed on the dinner. Everybody got something from the tree,
which was in reality no tree at all, for it was a cleverly constructed
dummy, with sticks for branches and coloured paper leaves. Still, it
carried little fairy candles and served its purpose well.
Then I must not forget the greatest treat of all: an exhibition of slides
showing the life about our winter quarters and the general work of the
Expedition from the starting away in New Zealand to this actual day
almost in the hut. The slides were wonderful and they showed every stage
of the ice through which we had come and in which we lived. There were
penguin pictures, whales and seals, bird life in the pack, flash light
photographs of people and ponies, pictures of Erebus and other splendid
and familiar landmarks, and, in short, a magnificent pictorial record of
events, for Ponting had been everywhere with his camera, and it is only
to be regretted that the Expedition did not take him to the Pole. This
was, of course, impossible, when everything had to give way to food.
Following the photographic display and the Christmas Tree came the only
Antarctic dance we enjoyed. Few of us remember much about it for we were
very merry, thanks to the wine, and there was considerable horseplay. I
remember dancing with the cook whilst Oates danced with Anton. Everybody
took a turn, and associated with this dance I might mention that Clissold
so far forgot himself as to call Scott "Good old Truegg." Truegg was the
composition used by us for cooking in various ways omelets, buttered
eggs, puddings, and cakes of all kinds, and, although it was a great boon
to the Expedition, we had by this time tired of it. Still, we used it as
a term of endearment, but nobody in his sober senses would have dreamt of
calling our much respected Commander "Good old Truegg"; the brandy punch
must have been responsible for Clissold's mixing up of names! We had now
arrived at the stage when it was time to shut up, the officers became
interested in an aurora display and gradually rolled off to bed. It was
left to me to see the seamen turned in; they were good-humoured but
obstreperous, and not until 2 a.m. did silence and order once more reign
in the hut.
Very wisely our leader decided on June 23 being kept as a day of rest;
our digestions were upset and we took this time off to make and mend
clothes, and returned to our winter routine, a little subdued perhaps, on
June 24.