NARRATIVE OF THE "TERRA NOVA"
The second ascent of Mount Erebus was carried out in December, 1912, by a
party under Raymond Priestley, and although it cannot be described in a
little volume like this a really fine scientific journey was made by
Griffith-Taylor, Debenham, Gran, and Petty Officer Forde. They had the
best time of the lot, for they carried out their explorations in blissful
ignorance of the tribulations of Scott, Campbell, Atkinson and myself,
whose stories I have tried to summarise.
For breezy reading and real bright narrative commend me to
Griffith-Taylor. Volume II. of "Scott's Last Expedition" contains the
story of the "Western journeys" as written by him, and they give quite
truly the Silver Lining to the Cloud which formed about the rest of our
Expedition.
For lightheartedness and good fellowship our Australian geologists should
be given first prize. It is of little use writing about distances covered
and dangers overcome in this connection, but if one considers that the
Western Geological Party surveyed, examined, charted, photographed, and
to some extent plodded over a mountainous, heavily glaciated land lying
in an area of the entire acreage of Kent, Sussex, Hants, Dorset, Devon,
and Cornwall, one gets a fair idea of what "Griff" and Co. were playing
at.
Taylor was the first professional physiographer to visit the Antarctic
Continent, and besides being an all round man of science he was an
admirable fellow, with the widest outlook on life of any man amongst us.
I cannot pretend to write on geology; Taylor, Debenham, and Priestley are
still drawing up reports on Antarctic physiography and glacial geology on
our fossils collected, on the Barrier Movement, and the retreating ice of
that Frozen Wonderland. Some day another expedition, more up to date than
ours, will force its way into the Heart of that Frigid Zone. If this
expedition sets out soon, I hope I may command it when I am still fresh
and fit--if that great good fortune comes my way I shall telegraph to
Griff and ask him to be my "Uncle Bill," and to help me as Wilson helped
Scott.
As this is only a popular version of the last Scott Antarctic Expedition
I have not collected any scientific appendices, and I have tried not to
throw any bouquets at one member more than another--if I have failed I
have done it accidentally, for one has no favourites after nearly ten
years. My especial friends in the Expedition were the lieutenants,
Campbell, Pennell, Rennick, Bowers, and Bruce, and of the scientists I
was most fond of Nelson.
The concluding part of this narrative is concerned with our little ship,
for which we had such affection.
To connect the story up one must go back to the time when on March 3,
1912, the "Terra Nova" made her last call for the year at Cape
Evans--here she embarked those members returning home, who for various
causes had not been collected before. Then it will be remembered that
Keohane was taken to Hut Point and landed with Atkinson, and afterwards,
owing to the thickening up of the ice in McMurdo Sound, the ship's head
was turned Northward. The ice conditions off the Bay where Campbell was
landed were terrific, and the little whaler had a tough time forcing her
way out into the Ross Sea once more after failure to relieve him.
She arrived in New Zealand on April 1, to learn of Amundsen's success,
and I went home a physical wreck with Francis Drake, the secretary, to
carry out Scott's wishes in the matter of finance. It was many months
before I could get about in comfort; but my wife nursed me back to
health. Several scientific and other members dispersed to their
respective duties in civil life. Pennell temporarily paid off the seamen
who had joined in New Zealand, and took the ship away to survey Admiralty
Bay in the Sounds according to arrangements made with the New Zealand
Government. During this operation we had the great misfortune to lose by
drowning Stoker Petty Officer Robert Brissenden.
Finally the little "Terra Nova" filled up with coal and left for the
South to pick up Scott and his expedition. She was once more under my
command as her original Captain, Pennell very gracefully and unselfishly
standing down to the position of second in command.
The programme included an extensive sounding cruse, guided to some degree
by what Professor David of Sydney University wished for, to throw further
light on the great earth folds. The voyage was like its predecessors,
except that we purposely kept in Longitude 165 W. to sound over new
portions of the ocean, every opportunity being taken to gain fresh
information and fulfil the requirements of the biological programme too.
We had hardly our share of gales this voyage, and although we expected to
meet with the pack in about 66 S. Latitude, it was not reached until we
had attained the 69th parallel--two degrees farther South than we had
found it in the "Terra Nova"'s first two voyages.
The only other expedition that had explored the Eastern part of the Ross
Sea so far was that under Ross in the "Erebus" and "Terror." We did not
gain anything by forcing the pack so far East, however, for we
encountered a heavy belt of ice through which we fought our way for 400
miles.
The weather mostly served us well, and great credit is due to Rennick,
Lillie, and Pennell for their sounding, biological, and magnetic work
respectively--they were indefatigable, and even though it blew hard on
occasions, thanks to Rennick's expert handling of the Lucas machine we
obtained several soundings in 3000 fathoms when less ardent hydrographers
would have surrendered to the bad weather.
January 15 found us passing through loose pack--sometimes the ship was in
large open leads--we stopped on one of these and sounded. To our surprise
we found 368 fathoms, volcanic rock--in 72 degrees 0 minutes S., 168
degrees 17 minutes W. we found the depth 2322 fathoms, so we had struck
the continental shelf right enough in Latitude 73 degrees. By 8 p.m. we
were in even shallower water--in fact we discovered a shoal in only 158
fathoms--it was a great discovery for us, and Lillie immediately put over
the Agassiz trawl. After dragging it along the bottom for half an hour we
hauled in and found the net full of stuff. Big-mouthed fish, worms,
spiders, anemones, sea-cucumbers, polyzoa, prawns, little fish like
sardines, one spiky fish like nothing on earth, starfish and octopus,
limpets with jointed shells, sponges, ascidians; isopods, and all kinds
of sea lice. Enough to keep Lillie busy for weeks.
The evening before we finally broke through into open water was
beautifully still, and a low cloud settled down in the form of a thick
fog--it was a change from the fine, clear weather--frost rime settled
everywhere, and for a time we had to stop. There was a weird stillness
over all, and whenever the ship was moved amongst the ice-floes a curious
hiss was heard; this sound is well known to all ice navigators: it is the
sear of the floe against the greenheart sheathing which protects the
little ship, and it is to the ice-master what the strange smell of the
China Seas is to the far Eastern navigator, what the Mediterranean
"cheesy odours" and the Eucalyptus scents of Australia are to the P. and
O. officers, and what the pungent peat smoke of Ireland is to the North
Atlantic seaman. I suppose the memory of the pack ice hissing around a
wooden ship is one of the little voices that call--and they sometimes
call as the memory of "a tall ship and a star to steer her by" calls John
Masefield's seamen "down to the sea again." I sometimes feel a mute fool
at race meetings, society dinner parties, and dances, the lure of the
little voices I know then at its strongest. It is felt by the Polar
explorer in peace times and in the hey-day of prosperity, and it is
surely that which called Scott away, when he had everything that man
wants, and made him write as he lay nobly dying out there in the snowy
wild:
"How much better has it been than lounging in too great comfort at home."
But this is yielding dream to my narrative, and I must apologise and
continue with the closing chapter.
After this fog, which held us up awhile, we got into one more lot of pack
varying in thickness and containing some fine long water lanes, and then
we made for Cape Bird, which we rounded on January 18, to find open water
right up to Cape Evans.
A tremendous feast was prepared, the table in the wardroom decked with
little flags and silk ribbons. Letters were done up in neat packets for
each member, and even champagne was got up from the store: chocolates,
cigarettes, cigars, and all manner of luxury placed in readiness.
The ship was specially scrubbed and cleaned, yards were squared, ropes
hauled taut and neatly coiled down, and our best Jacks and Ensigns
hoisted in gala fashion to meet and acclaim our leader and our comrades.
Glasses were levelled on the beach, and soon we discerned little men
running hither and thither in wild excitement; a lump stuck in my throat
at the idea of greeting the Polar Party with the knowledge that Amundsen
had anticipated us, it was something like having to congratulate a dear
friend on winning second prize in a great hard won race--which is exactly
what it was. But it was not even to be that: the ship rapidly closed the
beach, engines were stopped, and a thrill of excitement ran through us.
The shore party gave three cheers, which we on board replied to, and
espying Campbell I was overjoyed, for I feared more on his behalf than on
the others, owing to the small amount of provisions he had left him at
Evans Coves. I shouted out, "Campbell, is every one well," and after a
moment's hesitation he replied, "The Southern Party reached the South
Pole on the 17th January, last year, but were all lost on the return
journey--we have their records." It was a moment of hush and overwhelming
sorrow--a great stillness ran through the ship's little company and
through the party on shore.
I have been reminded of it particularly on the anniversaries of Armistice
Day.
The great silence was broken by the order to let the anchor fall: the
splash which followed and the rattle of the chain gave us relief, and
then Campbell and Atkinson came off in a boat to tell us in detail how
misfortune after misfortune had befallen our leader and his four brave
comrades. Slowly and with infinite sadness the flags were lowered from
the mastheads and Scott's little "Terra Nova" stood bareheaded at the
Gate of the Great Ice Barrier.
From the bridge one heard the occasional clatter of plates and cutlery,
for the steward was busy removing the table dressings and putting away
the things that we had no heart for any longer. The undelivered letters
were taken out of the bunks, which had been spread with white clean linen
for our chief and the Polar team, and Drake sealed them up for return to
the wives and mothers who had given up so much in order that their men
might achieve.
A great cross was now carved of Australian jarrah, on which was carved by
Davis:
In
Memoriam
CAPT. R.F. Scott, R.N.,
DR. E.A. WILSON, Capt. L.E.G. Oates, INS. DRGS.
LT. H.R. BOWERS, R.I.M.,
PETTY OFFICER E. Evans, R.N.,
Who Died on their
Return from the
Pole-March,
1912.
To Strive, To Seek,
To Find,
And Not To Yield.
This cross was borne on a sledge over the frozen sea to Hut Point, and
thence carried by Atkinson, and those who had taken part in the search
for Captain Scott, to the top of Observation Hill, which is in full view
of Cape Evans, and also of Captain Scott's original winter quarters in
the Discovery Expedition. The cross overlooks also his resting place: The
Great Ice Barrier.
As there is nothing to cause this wooden cross to rot, it will remain
standing for an indefinite time.
We left a year's stores for a dozen people at Cape Evans and re-embarked
the remainder of our possessions.
The collections and specimens were carefully stowed in our holds, and
then we took the ship to Cape Royds and Granite Harbour, where geological
depots had been made by Priestley, Taylor, and Debenham.
Finally we revisited Evans Coves, and secured the ship to a natural wharf
of very hard sea ice, which stretches out some distance from the
Piedmont.
Priestley here secured his party's geological dump, and while he was away
the remainder of the expedition in little relays visited the igloo where
Campbell and his party spent the previous winter. Concerning the igloo,
the following are my impressions, taken from my diary:
"Never in my life have I experienced such sensations as I did on this
occasion. The visit to the igloo explained in itself a story of
hardship that brought home to us what Campbell never would have told.
There was only one corner of it where a short man could stand upright.
In odd corners were discarded clothes, saturated in blubber and
absolutely black with smoke; the weight of these garments was
extraordinary, and how Campbell's party ever lived through what they
did I don't know:
"Although the igloo was once white inside, blubber stoves had
blackened it throughout. No cell prisoners ever had such discomforts.
(Campbell's simple narrative I read aloud to Bruce from Campbell's
diary. It was a tale of altruism and grit, so simply told, full of
disappointments and privations, all of which they accepted with
fortitude and never a complaint. I had to stop reading it as it
brought tears to my eyes and made my voice thick--ditto old Bruce.)
After spending half an hour at the igloo, and after Pennell had done
some magnetic work, picked up our ice anchors and steamed away."
On 27th January, 1913, after breakfast, I called the staff together in
the wardroom and read out my plans for the future, officially assumed the
command and control of the Expedition.
I then appointed Lieuts. Campbell, Pennell, Bruce, Surgeon E.L. Atkinson,
and Mr. Francis Drake as an executive committee, with myself as
president, to assist me in satisfactorily terminating the Expedition. I
asked every member of the staff publicly if he had any questions to put,
and also if he could suggest any better combination for the committee. As
all were unanimous in the fairness of the selection, it stands. The
minutes of the proceedings were taken down and my remarks placed verbatim
among the records of the Expedition.
We left a depot of provisions at the head of the Bay, its position being
marked by a bamboo and flag.
This depot contains enough foodstuffs to enable a party of five or six
men to make their way to Butter Point, where, another large depot exists.
Early on 26th January we left these inhospitable coasts, and those who
were on deck watched the familiar rocky, snow-capped shores fast
disappearing from view. We had been happy there before disaster overtook
our Expedition, but now we were glad to leave, and some of us must have
realised that these ice-girt rocks and mountains were not meant for human
beings to associate their lives with. For centuries, perhaps for all
time, no other human being will set foot upon the Beardmore, and it is
doubtful if ever the great inland plateau will be re-visited, except
perhaps by aeroplane.
When we left it was a "good-night" scene for most of us. The great white
plateau and peaks were grimly awaiting winter, and they seemed to mock
our departing exploring ship as though glad to be left in their loneland
Silence.
* * * * *
Corrections made to Collins edition:
p.47 'Mearse' to 'Meares'
p.61 'steamiug' to 'steaming'
p.84 'Pennel' to 'Pennell'
p.85 'when the time for her' to 'when the time came for her'
p.96 'Fedruary' to 'February'
p.96 'Saftey Camp' to 'Safety Camp'
p.108 'athelete' to 'athlete'
p.218 'Cherry-Garrad' to 'Cherry-Garrard'
p.247 'anchored ourselved' to 'anchored ourselves'
p.308 'Cornwell' to 'Cornwall'