South
THE STORY OF SHACKLETON’S LAST EXPEDITION 1914–1917
by Sir Ernest Shackleton C.V.O.
[Illustration: IN THE PRIDE OF HER YOUTH.
Colour Photograph by F. Hurley]
TO
MY COMRADES
WHO FELL IN THE WHITE WARFARE
OF THE SOUTH AND ON THE
RED FIELDS OF FRANCE
AND FLANDERS
Contents
PREFACE
I. INTO THE WEDDELL SEA
II. NEW LAND
III. WINTER MONTHS
IV. LOSS OF THE _ENDURANCE_
V. OCEAN CAMP
VI. THE MARCH BETWEEN
VII. PATIENCE CAMP
VIII. ESCAPE FROM THE ICE
IX. THE BOAT JOURNEY
X. ACROSS SOUTH GEORGIA
XI. THE RESCUE
XII. ELEPHANT ISLAND
XIII. THE ROSS SEA PARTY
XIV. WINTERING IN McMURDO SOUND
XV. LAYING THE DEPOTS
XVI. THE _AURORA’S_ DRIFT
XVII. THE LAST RELIEF
XVIII. THE FINAL PHASE
APPENDIX I:
SCIENTIFIC WORK
SEA-ICE NOMENCLATURE
METEOROLOGY
PHYSICS
SOUTH ATLANTIC WHALES AND WHALING
APPENDIX II:
THE EXPEDITION HUTS AT McMURDO SOUND
INDEX
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
IN THE PRIDE OF HER YOUTH. Colour Photograph by F. Hurley
The Leader
The Weddell Sea Party
Young Emperor Penguins
A Huge Floe of Consolidated Pack
Samson
Ice-Flowers
Midnight off the New Land
New Land: Caird Coast
Close Under the Barrier
Trying to cut a way for the Ship through the Ice to a Lead ahead (February 14, 1915)
The Night Watchman’s Story
The Dying Sun: The _Endurance_ firmly frozen in
The Rampart Berg
A Bi-Weekly Performance: Scrubbing out the “Ritz”
Pylon Avenue
The Long, Long Night
The Pups
Ice-Pressure Approaching the Ship
Ice-Rafting
The Returning Sun
Wild and Shackleton in the Heavy Pressure
Exercising the Dogs
Crab-eater Seals
The Beginning of the End
“Within a few Seconds she heeled over until she had a List of Thirty Degrees to Port”
Almost Overwhelmed
[Attack of the floes]
“The Driving Floe, moving laterally across the Stern, split the Rudder and tore out the Rudder-Post and Stern-Post”
The End
A Week Later
“The Wreckage lies around in Dismal Confusion”
The First Attempt to reach the Land 346 Miles Away
Ocean Camp
The Look-out at Ocean Camp
The Emergency Sledges being packed in case of a sudden break up of the Ice
The Sledges packed and ready
Relaying the _James Caird_
Potash and Perlmutter
“Loneliness”: Patience Camp
The Kitchen at Patience Camp
The Stove at Patience Camp constructed out of old Oil-drums
Worsley taking Observations of the Sun to determine our Position
“We cut Steps in this Twenty-five Foot Slab and it makes a fine Look-out”
“There was no Sleep for us that Night, so we lit the Blubber Stove”
Hauling up the Boats for the Night
The Reeling Berg
Sailing South Again
The First Landing ever made on Elephant Island, April 15, 1916
“We Pulled the Three Boats a little Higher on the Beach”
Rough sketch map of landing place and first camp at C. Valentine, Elephant Island
The First Drink and Hot Food for Three-and-a-Half Days
Mount Frank Houlder, Elephant Island
Launching the _James Caird_
The _Stancomb Wills_
In Sight of our Goal: Nearing South Georgia
Landing on South Georgia
[Cave Cove on South Georgia]
[Surroundings of King Haakon Bay]
[Plan of Sleeping Berths in Cave]
Sea Elephants on South Georgia
The Cliffs we descended whilst crossing the Island
One of the Glaciers we Crossed
A Typical View in South Georgia
[Rough Memory Map of Route Across South Georgia]
Panorama of South Georgia
The _Yelcho_
Arrival at Punta Arenas with the Rescued Men
Frank Wild, Second in Command of the Expedition
Our Dugout
The Hut on Elephant Island
View of Interior of Hut on Elephant Island
Marooned on Elephant Island
Elephant Island
The Rescue Ship Sighted
“All Safe! All Well!”
View through a Cave on Elephant Island
The Aurora
Ice Stalactites at the Entrance to a Cave on Elephant Island
A Newly-frozen Lead
The Ross Sea Party
Mackintosh and Spencer-Smith being dragged on the sledge
“The Rudder was bent over to Starboard and Smashed”
“Next Morning the Jury-Rudder was Shipped”
Ice Nomenclature: 1. Young Ice (Bay Ice of Scoresby) in the Middle Distance
2. Light Pack
3. Heavy Hummocked Pack
4. Hummocky Pack and Frozen Lead of Young-Ice
5. Close Pack
6. Open Pack
7. Very Open Pack, approximating to Drift-ice
8. Drift-Ice
“The Rookery”
The Anemometer covered with Rime
Map: The Voyage of the _Endurance_
PREFACE
After the conquest of the South Pole by Amundsen, who, by a narrow
margin of days only, was in advance of the British Expedition under
Scott, there remained but one great main object of Antarctic
journeyings—the crossing of the South Polar continent from sea to sea.
When I returned from the _Nimrod_ Expedition on which we had to turn
back from our attempt to plant the British flag on the South Pole,
being beaten by stress of circumstances within ninety-seven miles of
our goal, my mind turned to the crossing of the continent, for I was
morally certain that either Amundsen or Scott would reach the Pole on
our own route or a parallel one. After hearing of the Norwegian success
I began to make preparations to start a last great journey—so that the
first crossing of the last continent should be achieved by a British
Expedition.
We failed in this object, but the story of our attempt is the subject
for the following pages, and I think that though failure in the actual
accomplishment must be recorded, there are chapters in this book of
high adventure, strenuous days, lonely nights, unique experiences, and,
above all, records of unflinching determination, supreme loyalty, and
generous self-sacrifice on the part of my men which, even in these days
that have witnessed the sacrifices of nations and regardlessness of
self on the part of individuals, still will be of interest to readers
who now turn gladly from the red horror of war and the strain of the
last five years to read, perhaps with more understanding minds, the
tale of the White Warfare of the South. The struggles, the
disappointments, and the endurance of this small party of Britishers,
hidden away for nearly two years in the fastnesses of the Polar ice,
striving to carry out the ordained task and ignorant of the crises
through which the world was passing, make a story which is unique in
the history of Antarctic exploration.
Owing to the loss of the _Endurance_ and the disaster to the _Aurora_,
certain documents relating mainly to the organization and preparation
of the Expedition have been lost; but, anyhow, I had no intention of
presenting a detailed account of the scheme of preparation, storing,
and other necessary but, to the general reader, unimportant affairs, as
since the beginning of this century, every book on Antarctic
exploration has dealt fully with this matter. I therefore briefly place
before you the inception and organization of the Expedition, and insert
here the copy of the programme which I prepared in order to arouse the
interest of the general public in the Expedition.
“_The Trans-continental Party._
“The first crossing of the Antarctic continent, from sea to sea via the
Pole, apart from its historic value, will be a journey of great
scientific importance.
“The distance will be roughly 1800 miles, and the first half of this,
from the Weddell Sea to the Pole, will be over unknown ground. Every
step will be an advance in geographical science. It will be learned
whether the great Victoria chain of mountains, which has been traced
from the Ross Sea to the Pole, extends across the continent and thus
links up (except for the ocean break) with the Andes of South America,
and whether the great plateau around the Pole dips gradually towards
the Weddell Sea.
“Continuous magnetic observations will be taken on the journey. The
route will lead towards the Magnetic Pole, and the determination of the
dip of the magnetic needle will be of importance in practical
magnetism. The meteorological conditions will be carefully noted, and
this should help to solve many of our weather problems.
“The glaciologist and geologist will study ice formations and the
nature of the mountains, and this report will prove of great scientific
interest.
“_Scientific Work by Other Parties._
“While the Trans-continental party is carrying out, for the British
Flag, the greatest Polar journey ever attempted, the other parties will
be engaged in important scientific work.
“Two sledging parties will operate from the base on the Weddell Sea.
One will travel westwards towards Graham Land, making observations,
collecting geological specimens, and proving whether there are
mountains in that region linked up with those found on the other side
of the Pole.
“Another party will travel eastward toward Enderby Land, carrying out a
similar programme, and a third, remaining at the base, will study the
fauna of the land and sea, and the meteorological conditions.
“From the Ross Sea base, on the other side of the Pole, another party
will push southward and will probably await the arrival of the
Trans-continental party at the top of the Beardmore Glacier, near Mount
Buckley, where the first seams of coal were discovered in the
Antarctic. This region is of great importance to the geologist, who
will be enabled to read much of the history of the Antarctic in the
rocks.
“Both the ships of the Expedition will be equipped for dredging,
sounding, and every variety of hydrographical work. The Weddell Sea
ship will endeavour to trace the unknown coast-line of Graham Land, and
from both the vessels, with their scientific staffs, important results
may be expected.
“The several shore parties and the two ships will thus carry out
geographical and scientific work on a scale and over an area never
before attempted by any one Polar expedition.
“This will be the first use of the Weddell Sea as a base for
exploration, and all the parties will open up vast stretches of unknown
land. It is appropriate that this work should be carried out under the
British Flag, since the whole of the area southward to the Pole is
British territory. In July 1908, Letters Patent were issued under the
Great Seal declaring that the Governor of the Falkland Islands should
be the Governor of Graham Land (which forms the western side of the
Weddell Sea), and another section of the same proclamation defines the
area of British territory as ‘situated in the South Atlantic Ocean to
the south of the 50th parallel of south latitude, and lying between 20
degrees and 80 degrees west longitude.’ Reference to a map will show
that this includes the area in which the present Expedition will work.
“_How the Continent will be crossed._
“The Weddell Sea ship, with all the members of the Expedition operating
from that base, will leave Buenos Ayres in October 1914, and endeavour
to land in November in latitude 78 degrees south.
“Should this be done, the Trans-continental party will set out on their
1800-mile journey at once, in the hope of accomplishing the march
across the Pole and reaching the Ross Sea base in five months. Should
the landing be made too late in the season, the party will go into
winter quarters, lay out depots during the autumn and the following
spring, and as early as possible in 1915 set out on the journey.
“The Trans-continental party will be led by Sir Ernest Shackleton, and
will consist of six men. It will take 100 dogs with sledges, and two
motor-sledges with aerial propellers. The equipment will embody
everything that the experience of the leader and his expert advisers
can suggest. When this party has reached the area of the Pole, after
covering 800 miles of unknown ground, it will strike due north towards
the head of the Beardmore Glacier, and there it is hoped to meet the
outcoming party from the Ross Sea. Both will join up and make for the
Ross Sea base, where the previous Expedition had its winter quarters.
“In all, fourteen men will be landed by the _Endurance_ on the Weddell
Sea. Six will set out on the Trans-continental journey, three will go
westward, three eastward, and two remain at the base carrying on the
work already outlined.
“The _Aurora_ will land six men at the Ross Sea base. They will lay
down depots on the route of the Trans-continental party, and make a
march south to assist that party, and to make geological and other
observations as already described.
“Should the Trans-continental party succeed, as is hoped, in crossing
during the first season, its return to civilization may be expected
about April 1915. The other sections in April 1916.
“_The Ships of the Expedition._
“The two ships for the Expedition have now been selected.
“The _Endurance_, the ship which will take the Trans-continental party
to the Weddell Sea, and will afterwards explore along an unknown
coast-line, is a new vessel, specially constructed for Polar work under
the supervision of a committee of Polar explorers. She was built by
Christensen, the famous Norwegian constructor of sealing vessels, at
Sandefjord. She is barquentine rigged, and has triple-expansion engines
giving her a speed under steam of nine to ten knots. To enable her to
stay longer at sea, she will carry oil fuel as well as coal. She is of
about 350 tons, and built of selected pine, oak, and greenheart. This
fine vessel, equipped, has cost the Expedition £14,000.
“The _Aurora_, the ship which will take out the Ross Sea party, has
been bought from Dr. Mawson. She is similar in all respects to the
_Terra Nova_, of Captain Scott’s last Expedition. She had extensive
alterations made by the Government authorities in Australia to fit her
for Dr. Mawson’s Expedition, and is now at Hobart, Tasmania, where the
Ross Sea party will join her in October next.”
I started the preparations in the middle of 1913, but no public
announcement was made until January 13, 1914. For the last six months
of 1913 I was engaged in the necessary preliminaries, solid mule work,
showing nothing particular to interest the public, but essential for an
Expedition that had to have a ship on each side of the Continent, with
a land journey of eighteen hundred miles to be made, the first nine
hundred miles to be across an absolutely unknown land mass.
On January 1, 1914, having received a promised financial support
sufficient to warrant the announcement of the Expedition, I made it
public.
The first result of this was a flood of applications from all classes
of the community to join the adventure. I received nearly five thousand
applications, and out of these were picked fifty-six men.
In March, to my great disappointment and anxiety, the promised
financial help did not materialize, and I was now faced with the fact
that I had contracted for a ship and stores, and had engaged the staff,
and I was not in possession of funds to meet these liabilities. I
immediately set about appealing for help, and met with generous
response from all sides. I cannot here give the names of all who
supported my application, but whilst taking this opportunity of
thanking every one for their support, which came from parts as far
apart as the interior of China, Japan, New Zealand, and Australia, I
must particularly refer to the munificent donation of £24,000 from the
late Sir James Caird, and to one of £10,000 from the British
Government. I must also thank Mr. Dudley Docker, who enabled me to
complete the purchase of the _Endurance_, and Miss Elizabeth Dawson
Lambton, who since 1901 has always been a firm friend to Antarctic
exploration, and who again, on this occasion, assisted largely. The
Royal Geographical Society made a grant of £1000; and last, but by no
means least, I take this opportunity of tendering my grateful thanks to
Dame Janet Stancomb Wills, whose generosity enabled me to equip the
_Endurance_ efficiently, especially as regards boats (which boats were
the means of our ultimate safety), and who not only, at the inception
of the Expedition, gave financial help, but also continued it through
the dark days when we were overdue, and funds were required to meet the
need of the dependents of the Expedition.
The only return and privilege an explorer has in the way of
acknowledgment for the help accorded him is to record on the discovered
lands the names of those to whom the Expedition owes its being.
Owing to the exigencies of the war the publication of this book has
been long delayed, and the detailed maps must come with the scientific
monographs. I have the honour to place on the new land the names of the
above and other generous donors to the Expedition. The two hundred
miles of new coast-line I have called Caird Coast. Also, as a more
personal note, I named the three ship’s boats, in which we ultimately
escaped from the grip of the ice, after the three principal donors to
the Expedition—the _James Caird_, the _Stancomb Wills_ and the _Dudley
Docker_. The two last-named are still on the desolate sandy spit of
Elephant Island, where under their shelter twenty-two of my comrades
eked out a bare existence for four and a half months.
The _James Caird_ is now in Liverpool, having been brought home from
South Georgia after her adventurous voyage across the sub-Antarctic
ocean.
Most of the Public Schools of England and Scotland helped the
Expedition to purchase the dog teams, and I named a dog after each
school that helped. But apart from these particular donations I again
thank the many people who assisted us.
So the equipment and organization went on. I purchased the _Aurora_
from Sir Douglas Mawson, and arranged for Mackintosh to go to Australia
and take charge of her, there sending sledges, equipment and most of
the stores from this side, but depending somewhat on the sympathy and
help of Australia and New Zealand for coal and certain other
necessities, knowing that previously these two countries had always
generously supported the exploration of what one might call their
hinterland.
Towards the end of July all was ready, when suddenly the war clouds
darkened over Europe.
It had been arranged for the _Endurance_ to proceed to Cowes, to be
inspected by His Majesty on the Monday of Cowes week. But on Friday I
received a message to say that the King would not be able to go to
Cowes. My readers will remember how suddenly came the menace of war.
Naturally, both my comrades and I were greatly exercised as to the
probable outcome of the danger threatening the peace of the world.
We sailed from London on Friday, August 1, 1914, and anchored off
Southend all Saturday. On Sunday afternoon I took the ship off Margate,
growing hourly more anxious as the ever-increasing rumours spread; and
on Monday morning I went ashore and read in the morning paper the order
for general mobilization.
I immediately went on board and mustered all hands and told them that I
proposed to send a telegram to the Admiralty offering the ships,
stores, and, if they agreed, our own services to the country in the
event of war breaking out. All hands immediately agreed, and I sent off
a telegram in which everything was placed at the disposal of the
Admiralty. We only asked that, in the event of the declaration of war,
the Expedition might be considered as a single unit, so as to preserve
its homogeneity. There were enough trained and experienced men amongst
us to man a destroyer. Within an hour I received a laconic wire from
the Admiralty saying “Proceed.” Within two hours a longer wire came
from Mr. Winston Churchill, in which we were thanked for our offer, and
saying that the authorities desired that the Expedition, which had the
full sanction and support of the Scientific and Geographical Societies,
should go on.
So, according to these definite instructions, the _Endurance_ sailed to
Plymouth. On Tuesday the King sent for me and handed me the Union Jack
to carry on the Expedition. That night, at midnight, war broke out. On
the following Saturday, August 8, the _Endurance_ sailed from Plymouth,
obeying the direct order of the Admiralty. I make particular reference
to this phase of the Expedition as I am aware that there was a certain
amount of criticism of the Expedition having left the country, and
regarding this I wish further to add that the preparation of the
Expedition had been proceeding for over a year, and large sums of money
had been spent. We offered to give the Expedition up without even
consulting the donors of this money, and but few thought that the war
would last through these five years and involve the whole world. The
Expedition was not going on a peaceful cruise to the South Sea Islands,
but to a most dangerous, difficult, and strenuous work that has nearly
always involved a certain percentage of loss of life. Finally, when the
Expedition did return, practically the whole of those members who had
come unscathed through the dangers of the Antarctic took their places
in the wider field of battle, and the percentage of casualties amongst
the members of this Expedition is high.
The voyage out to Buenos Ayres was uneventful, and on October 26 we
sailed from that port for South Georgia, the most southerly outpost of
the British Empire. Here, for a month, we were engaged in final
preparation. The last we heard of the war was when we left Buenos
Ayres. Then the Russian Steam-Roller was advancing. According to many
the war would be over within six months. And so we left, not without
regret that we could not take our place there, but secure in the
knowledge that we were taking part in a strenuous campaign for the
credit of our country.
Apart from private individuals and societies I here acknowledge most
gratefully the assistance rendered by the Dominion Government of New
Zealand and the Commonwealth Government of Australia at the start of
the Ross Sea section of the Expedition; and to the people of New
Zealand and the Dominion Government I tender my most grateful thanks
for their continued help, which was invaluable during the dark days
before the relief of the Ross Sea Party.
Mr. James Allen (acting Premier), the late Mr. McNab (Minister of
Marine), Mr. Leonard Tripp, Mr. Mabin, and Mr. Toogood, and many others
have laid me under a debt of gratitude that can never be repaid.
This is also the opportunity for me to thank the Uruguayan Government
for their generous assistance in placing the government trawler,
_Instituto de Pesca_, for the second attempt at the relief of my men on
Elephant Island.
Finally, it was the Chilian Government that was directly responsible
for the rescue of my comrades. This southern Republic was unwearied in
its efforts to make a successful rescue, and the gratitude of our whole
party is due to them. I especially mention the sympathetic attitude of
Admiral Muñoz Hurtado, head of the Chilian Navy, and Captain Luis
Pardo, who commanded the _Yelcho_ on our last and successful venture.
Sir Daniel Gooch came with us as far as South Georgia. I owe him my
special thanks for his help with the dogs, and we all regretted losing
his cheery presence, when we sailed for the South.
CHAPTER I
INTO THE WEDDELL SEA
I decided to leave South Georgia about December 5, and in the intervals
of final preparation scanned again the plans for the voyage to winter
quarters. What welcome was the Weddell Sea preparing for us? The
whaling captains at South Georgia were generously ready to share with
me their knowledge of the waters in which they pursued their trade,
and, while confirming earlier information as to the extreme severity of
the ice conditions in this sector of the Antarctic, they were able to
give advice that was worth attention.
It will be convenient to state here briefly some of the considerations
that weighed with me at that time and in the weeks that followed. I
knew that the ice had come far north that season and, after listening
to the suggestions of the whaling captains, had decided to steer to the
South Sandwich Group, round Ultima Thule, and work as far to the
eastward as the fifteenth meridian west longitude before pushing south.
The whalers emphasized the difficulty of getting through the ice in the
neighbourhood of the South Sandwich Group. They told me they had often
seen the floes come right up to the group in the summer-time, and they
thought the Expedition would have to push through heavy pack in order
to reach the Weddell Sea. Probably the best time to get into the
Weddell Sea would be the end of February or the beginning of March. The
whalers had gone right round the South Sandwich Group and they were
familiar with the conditions. The predictions they made induced me to
take the deck-load of coal, for if we had to fight our way through to
Coats’ Land we would need every ton of fuel the ship could carry.
I hoped that by first moving to the east as far as the fifteenth
meridian west we would be able to go south through looser ice, pick up
Coats’ Land and finally reach Vahsel Bay, where Filchner made his
attempt at landing in 1912. Two considerations were occupying my mind
at this juncture. I was anxious for certain reasons to winter the
_Endurance_ in the Weddell Sea, but the difficulty of finding a safe
harbour might be very great. If no safe harbour could be found, the
ship must winter at South Georgia. It seemed to me hopeless now to
think of making the journey across the continent in the first summer,
as the season was far advanced and the ice conditions were likely to
prove unfavourable. In view of the possibility of wintering the ship in
the ice, we took extra clothing from the stores at the various stations
in South Georgia.
The other question that was giving me anxious thought was the size of
the shore party. If the ship had to go out during the winter, or if she
broke away from winter quarters, it would be preferable to have only a
small, carefully selected party of men ashore after the hut had been
built and the stores landed. These men could proceed to lay out depots
by man-haulage and make short journeys with the dogs, training them for
the long early march in the following spring. The majority of the
scientific men would live aboard the ship, where they could do their
work under good conditions. They would be able to make short journeys
if required, using the _Endurance_ as a base. All these plans were
based on an expectation that the finding of winter quarters was likely
to be difficult. If a really safe base could be established on the
continent, I would adhere to the original programme of sending one
party to the south, one to the west round the head of the Weddell Sea
towards Graham Land, and one to the east towards Enderby Land.
We had worked out details of distances, courses, stores required, and
so forth. Our sledging ration, the result of experience as well as
close study, was perfect. The dogs gave promise, after training, of
being able to cover fifteen to twenty miles a day with loaded sledges.
The trans-continental journey, at this rate, should be completed in 120
days unless some unforeseen obstacle intervened. We longed keenly for
the day when we could begin this march, the last great adventure in the
history of South Polar exploration, but a knowledge of the obstacles
that lay between us and our starting-point served as a curb on
impatience. Everything depended upon the landing. If we could land at
Filchner’s base there was no reason why a band of experienced men
should not winter there in safety. But the Weddell Sea was notoriously
inhospitable and already we knew that its sternest face was turned
toward us. All the conditions in the Weddell Sea are unfavourable from
the navigator’s point of view. The winds are comparatively light, and
consequently new ice can form even in the summer-time. The absence of
strong winds has the additional effect of allowing the ice to
accumulate in masses, undisturbed. Then great quantities of ice sweep
along the coast from the east under the influence of the prevailing
current, and fill up the bight of the Weddell Sea as they move north in
a great semicircle. Some of this ice doubtless describes almost a
complete circle, and is held up eventually, in bad seasons, against the
South Sandwich Islands. The strong currents, pressing the ice masses
against the coasts, create heavier pressure than is found in any other
part of the Antarctic. This pressure must be at least as severe as the
pressure experienced in the congested North Polar basin, and I am
inclined to think that a comparison would be to the advantage of the
Arctic. All these considerations naturally had a bearing upon our
immediate problem, the penetration of the pack and the finding of a
safe harbour on the continental coast.
The day of departure arrived. I gave the order to heave anchor at 8.45
a.m. on December 5, 1914, and the clanking of the windlass broke for us
the last link with civilization. The morning was dull and overcast,
with occasional gusts of snow and sleet, but hearts were light aboard
the _Endurance_. The long days of preparation were over and the
adventure lay ahead.
We had hoped that some steamer from the north would bring news of war
and perhaps letters from home before our departure. A ship did arrive
on the evening of the 4th, but she carried no letters, and nothing
useful in the way of information could be gleaned from her. The captain
and crew were all stoutly pro-German, and the “news” they had to give
took the unsatisfying form of accounts of British and French reverses.
We would have been glad to have had the latest tidings from a
friendlier source. A year and a half later we were to learn that the
_Harpoon_, the steamer which tends the Grytviken station, had arrived
with mail for us not more than two hours after the _Endurance_ had
proceeded down the coast.
The bows of the _Endurance_ were turned to the south, and the good ship
dipped to the south-westerly swell. Misty rain fell during the
forenoon, but the weather cleared later in the day, and we had a good
view of the coast of South Georgia as we moved under steam and sail to
the south-east. The course was laid to carry us clear of the island and
then south of South Thule, Sandwich Group. The wind freshened during
the day, and all square sail was set, with the foresail reefed in order
to give the look-out a clear view ahead; for we did not wish to risk
contact with a “growler,” one of those treacherous fragments of ice
that float with surface awash. The ship was very steady in the
quarterly sea, but certainly did not look as neat and trim as she had
done when leaving the shores of England four months earlier. We had
filled up with coal at Grytviken, and this extra fuel was stored on
deck, where it impeded movement considerably. The carpenter had built a
false deck, extending from the poop-deck to the chart-room. We had also
taken aboard a ton of whale-meat for the dogs. The big chunks of meat
were hung up in the rigging, out of reach but not out of sight of the
dogs, and as the _Endurance_ rolled and pitched, they watched with
wolfish eyes for a windfall.
I was greatly pleased with the dogs, which were tethered about the ship
in the most comfortable positions we could find for them. They were in
excellent condition, and I felt that the Expedition had the right
tractive-power. They were big, sturdy animals, chosen for endurance and
strength, and if they were as keen to pull our sledges as they were now
to fight one another all would be well. The men in charge of the dogs
were doing their work enthusiastically, and the eagerness they showed
to study the natures and habits of their charges gave promise of
efficient handling and good work later on.
[Illustration: The Leader]
[Illustration: The Weddell Sea Party]
During December 6 the _Endurance_ made good progress on a
south-easterly course. The northerly breeze had freshened during the
night and had brought up a high following sea. The weather was hazy,
and we passed two bergs, several growlers, and numerous lumps of ice.
Staff and crew were settling down to the routine. Bird life was
plentiful, and we noticed Cape pigeons, whale-birds, terns, mollymauks,
nellies, sooty, and wandering albatrosses in the neighbourhood of the
ship. The course was laid for the passage between Sanders Island and
Candlemas Volcano. December 7 brought the first check. At six o’clock
that morning the sea, which had been green in colour all the previous
day, changed suddenly to a deep indigo. The ship was behaving well in a
rough sea, and some members of the scientific staff were transferring
to the bunkers the coal we had stowed on deck. Sanders Island and
Candlemas were sighted early in the afternoon, and the _Endurance_
passed between them at 6 p.m. Worsley’s observations indicated that
Sanders Island was, roughly, three miles east and five miles north of
the charted position. Large numbers of bergs, mostly tabular in form,
lay to the west of the islands, and we noticed that many of them were
yellow with _diatoms_. One berg had large patches of red-brown soil
down its sides. The presence of so many bergs was ominous, and
immediately after passing between the islands we encountered
stream-ice. All sail was taken in and we proceeded slowly under steam.
Two hours later, fifteen miles north-east of Sanders Island, the
_Endurance_ was confronted by a belt of heavy pack-ice, half a mile
broad and extending north and south. There was clear water beyond, but
the heavy south-westerly swell made the pack impenetrable in our
neighbourhood. This was disconcerting. The noon latitude had been 57°
26´ S., and I had not expected to find pack-ice nearly so far north,
though the whalers had reported pack-ice right up to South Thule.
The situation became dangerous that night. We pushed into the pack in
the hope of reaching open water beyond, and found ourselves after dark
in a pool which was growing smaller and smaller. The ice was grinding
around the ship in the heavy swell, and I watched with some anxiety for
any indication of a change of wind to the east, since a breeze from
that quarter would have driven us towards the land. Worsley and I were
on deck all night, dodging the pack. At 3 a.m. we ran south, taking
advantage of some openings that had appeared, but met heavy rafted
pack-ice, evidently old; some of it had been subjected to severe
pressure. Then we steamed north-west and saw open water to the
north-east. I put the _Endurance’s_ head for the opening, and, steaming
at full speed, we got clear. Then we went east in the hope of getting
better ice, and five hours later, after some dodging, we rounded the
pack and were able to set sail once more. This initial tussle with the
pack had been exciting at times. Pieces of ice and bergs of all sizes
were heaving and jostling against each other in the heavy
south-westerly swell. In spite of all our care the _Endurance_ struck
large lumps stem on, but the engines were stopped in time and no harm
was done. The scene and sounds throughout the day were very fine. The
swell was dashing against the sides of huge bergs and leaping right to
the top of their icy cliffs. Sanders Island lay to the south, with a
few rocky faces peering through the misty, swirling clouds that swathed
it most of the time, the booming of the sea running into ice-caverns,
the swishing break of the swell on the loose pack, and the graceful
bowing and undulating of the inner pack to the steeply rolling swell,
which here was robbed of its break by the masses of ice to windward.
We skirted the northern edge of the pack in clear weather with a light
south-westerly breeze and an overcast sky. The bergs were numerous.
During the morning of December 9 an easterly breeze brought hazy
weather with snow, and at 4.30 p.m. we encountered the edge of pack-ice
in lat. 58° 27´ S., long. 22° 08´ W. It was one-year-old ice
interspersed with older pack, all heavily snow-covered and lying
west-south-west to east-north-east. We entered the pack at 5 p.m., but
could not make progress, and cleared it again at 7.40 p.m. Then we
steered east-north-east and spent the rest of the night rounding the
pack. During the day we had seen adelie and ringed penguins, also
several humpback and finner whales. An ice-blink to the westward
indicated the presence of pack in that direction. After rounding the
pack we steered S. 40° E., and at noon on the 10th had reached lat. 58°
28´ S., long. 20° 28´ W. Observations showed the compass variation to
be 1½° less than the chart recorded. I kept the _Endurance_ on the
course till midnight, when we entered loose open ice about ninety miles
south-east of our noon position. This ice proved to fringe the pack,
and progress became slow. There was a long easterly swell with a light
northerly breeze, and the weather was clear and fine. Numerous bergs
lay outside the pack.
The _Endurance_ steamed through loose open ice till 8 a.m. on the 11th,
when we entered the pack in lat. 59° 46´ S., long. 18° 22´ W. We could
have gone farther east, but the pack extended far in that direction,
and an effort to circle it might have involved a lot of northing. I did
not wish to lose the benefit of the original southing. The extra miles
would not have mattered to a ship with larger coal capacity than the
_Endurance_ possessed, but we could not afford to sacrifice miles
unnecessarily. The pack was loose and did not present great
difficulties at this stage. The foresail was set in order to take
advantage of the northerly breeze. The ship was in contact with the ice
occasionally and received some heavy blows. Once or twice she was
brought up all standing against solid pieces, but no harm was done. The
chief concern was to protect the propeller and rudder. If a collision
seemed to be inevitable the officer in charge would order “slow” or
“half speed” with the engines, and put the helm over so as to strike
floe a glancing blow. Then the helm would be put over towards the ice
with the object of throwing the propeller clear of it, and the ship
would forge ahead again. Worsley, Wild, and I, with three officers,
kept three watches while we were working through the pack, so that we
had two officers on deck all the time. The carpenter had rigged a
six-foot wooden semaphore on the bridge to enable the navigating
officer to give the seamen or scientists at the wheel the direction and
the exact amount of helm required. This device saved time, as well as
the effort of shouting. We were pushing through this loose pack all
day, and the view from the crow’s-nest gave no promise of improved
conditions ahead. A Weddell seal and a crab-eater seal were noticed on
the floes, but we did not pause to secure fresh meat. It was important
that we should make progress towards our goal as rapidly as possible,
and there was reason to fear that we should have plenty of time to
spare later on if the ice conditions continued to increase in severity.
On the morning of December 12 we were working through loose pack which
later became thick in places. The sky was overcast and light snow was
falling. I had all square sail set at 7 a.m. in order to take advantage
of the northerly breeze, but it had to come in again five hours later
when the wind hauled round to the west. The noon position was lat. 60°
26´ S., long. 17° 58´ W., and the run for the twenty-four hours had
been only 33 miles. The ice was still badly congested, and we were
pushing through narrow leads and occasional openings with the floes
often close abeam on either side. Antarctic, snow and stormy petrels,
fulmars, white-rumped terns, and adelies were around us. The quaint
little penguins found the ship a cause of much apparent excitement and
provided a lot of amusement aboard. One of the standing jokes was that
all the adelies on the floe seemed to know Clark, and when he was at
the wheel rushed along as fast as their legs could carry them, yelling
out “Clark! Clark!” and apparently very indignant and perturbed that he
never waited for them or even answered them.
We found several good leads to the south in the evening, and continued
to work southward throughout the night and the following day. The pack
extended in all directions as far as the eye could reach. The noon
observation showed the run for the twenty-four hours to be 54 miles, a
satisfactory result under the conditions. Wild shot a young Ross seal
on the floe, and we manœuvred the ship alongside. Hudson jumped down,
bent a line on to the seal, and the pair of them were hauled up. The
seal was 4 ft. 9 in. long and weighed about ninety pounds. He was a
young male and proved very good eating, but when dressed and minus the
blubber made little more than a square meal for our twenty-eight men,
with a few scraps for our breakfast and tea. The stomach contained only
_amphipods_ about an inch long, allied to those found in the whales at
Grytviken.
[Illustration: Young Emperor Penguins]
[Illustration: A Huge Floe of Consolidated Pack]
The conditions became harder on December 14. There was a misty haze,
and occasional falls of snow. A few bergs were in sight. The pack was
denser than it had been on the previous days. Older ice was
intermingled with the young ice, and our progress became slower. The
propeller received several blows in the early morning, but no damage
was done. A platform was rigged under the jib-boom in order that Hurley
might secure some kinematograph pictures of the ship breaking through
the ice. The young ice did not present difficulties to the _Endurance_,
which was able to smash a way through, but the lumps of older ice were
more formidable obstacles, and conning the ship was a task requiring
close attention. The most careful navigation could not prevent an
occasional bump against ice too thick to be broken or pushed aside. The
southerly breeze strengthened to a moderate south-westerly gale during
the afternoon, and at 8 p.m. we hove to, stem against a floe, it being
impossible to proceed without serious risk of damage to rudder or
propeller. I was interested to notice that, although we had been
steaming through the pack for three days, the north-westerly swell
still held with us. It added to the difficulties of navigation in the
lanes, since the ice was constantly in movement.
The _Endurance_ remained against the floe for the next twenty-four
hours, when the gale moderated. The pack extended to the horizon in all
directions and was broken by innumerable narrow lanes. Many bergs were
in sight, and they appeared to be travelling through the pack in a
south-westerly direction under the current influence. Probably the pack
itself was moving north-east with the gale. Clark put down a net in
search of specimens, and at two fathoms it was carried south-west by
the current and fouled the propeller. He lost the net, two leads, and a
line. Ten bergs drove to the south through the pack during the
twenty-four hours. The noon position was 61° 31´ S., long. 18° 12´ W.
The gale had moderated at 8 p.m., and we made five miles to the south
before midnight and then we stopped at the end of a long lead, waiting
till the weather cleared. It was during this short run that the
captain, with semaphore hard-a-port, shouted to the scientist at the
wheel: “Why in Paradise don’t you port!” The answer came in indignant
tones: “I am blowing my nose.”
The _Endurance_ made some progress on the following day. Long leads of
open water ran towards the south-west, and the ship smashed at full
speed through occasional areas of young ice till brought up with a
heavy thud against a section of older floe. Worsley was out on the
jib-boom end for a few minutes while Wild was conning the ship, and he
came back with a glowing account of a novel sensation. The boom was
swinging high and low and from side to side, while the massive bows of
the ship smashed through the ice, splitting it across, piling it mass
on mass and then shouldering it aside. The air temperature was 37°
Fahr., pleasantly warm, and the water temperature 29° Fahr. We
continued to advance through fine long leads till 4 a.m. on December
17, when the ice became difficult again. Very large floes of
six-months-old ice lay close together. Some of these floes presented a
square mile of unbroken surface, and among them were patches of thin
ice and several floes of heavy old ice. Many bergs were in sight, and
the course became devious. The ship was blocked at one point by a
wedge-shaped piece of floe, but we put the ice-anchor through it, towed
it astern, and proceeded through the gap. Steering under these
conditions required muscle as well as nerve. There was a clatter aft
during the afternoon, and Hussey, who was at the wheel, explained that
“The wheel spun round and threw me over the top of it!” The noon
position was lat. 62° 13´ S., long. 18° 53´ W., and the run for the
preceding twenty-four hours had been 32 miles in a south-westerly
direction. We saw three blue whales during the day and one emperor
penguin, a 58-lb. bird, which was added to the larder.
The morning of December 18 found the _Endurance_ proceeding amongst
large floes with thin ice between them. The leads were few. There was a
northerly breeze with occasional snow-flurries. We secured three
crab-eater seals—two cows and a bull. The bull was a fine specimen,
nearly white all over and 9 ft. 3 in. long; he weighed 600 lbs. Shortly
before noon further progress was barred by heavy pack, and we put an
ice-anchor on the floe and banked the fires. I had been prepared for
evil conditions in the Weddell Sea, but had hoped that in December and
January, at any rate, the pack would be loose, even if no open water
was to be found. What we were actually encountering was fairly dense
pack of a very obstinate character. Pack-ice might be described as a
gigantic and interminable jigsaw-puzzle devised by nature. The parts of
the puzzle in loose pack have floated slightly apart and become
disarranged; at numerous places they have pressed together again; as
the pack gets closer the congested areas grow larger and the parts are
jammed harder till finally it becomes “close pack,” when the whole of
the jigsaw-puzzle becomes jammed to such an extent that with care and
labour it can be traversed in every direction on foot. Where the parts
do not fit closely there is, of course, open water, which freezes over,
in a few hours after giving off volumes of “frost-smoke.” In obedience
to renewed pressure this young ice “rafts,” so forming double
thicknesses of a toffee-like consistency. Again the opposing edges of
heavy floes rear up in slow and almost silent conflict, till high
“hedgerows” are formed round each part of the puzzle. At the junction
of several floes chaotic areas of piled-up blocks and masses of ice are
formed. Sometimes 5-ft. to 6-ft. piles of evenly shaped blocks of ice
are seen so neatly laid that it seems impossible for them to be
Nature’s work. Again, a winding canyon may be traversed between icy
walls 6 ft. to 10 ft. high, or a dome may be formed that under renewed
pressure bursts upward like a volcano. All the winter the drifting pack
changes—grows by freezing, thickens by rafting, and corrugates by
pressure. If, finally, in its drift it impinges on a coast, such as the
western shore of the Weddell Sea, terrific pressure is set up and an
inferno of ice-blocks, ridges, and hedgerows results, extending
possibly for 150 or 200 miles off shore. Sections of pressure ice may
drift away subsequently and become embedded in new ice.
I have given this brief explanation here in order that the reader may
understand the nature of the ice through which we pushed our way for
many hundreds of miles. Another point that may require to be explained
was the delay caused by wind while we were in the pack. When a strong
breeze or moderate gale was blowing the ship could not safely work
through any except young ice, up to about two feet in thickness. As ice
of that nature never extended for more than a mile or so, it followed
that in a gale in the pack we had always to lie to. The ship was 3 ft.
3 in. down by the stern, and while this saved the propeller and rudder
a good deal, it made the _Endurance_ practically unmanageable in close
pack when the wind attained a force of six miles an hour from ahead,
since the air currents had such a big surface forward to act upon. The
pressure of wind on bows and the yards of the foremast would cause the
bows to fall away, and in these conditions the ship could not be
steered into the narrow lanes and leads through which we had to thread
our way. The falling away of the bows, moreover, would tend to bring
the stern against the ice, compelling us to stop the engines in order
to save the propeller. Then the ship would become unmanageable and
drift away, with the possibility of getting excessive sternway on her
and so damaging rudder or propeller, the Achilles’ heel of a ship in
pack-ice.
While we were waiting for the weather to moderate and the ice to open,
I had the Lucas sounding-machine rigged over the rudder-trunk and found
the depth to be 2810 fathoms. The bottom sample was lost owing to the
line parting 60 fathoms from the end. During the afternoon three adelie
penguins approached the ship across the floe while Hussey was
discoursing sweet music on the banjo. The solemn-looking little birds
appeared to appreciate “It’s a Long Way to Tipperary,” but they fled in
horror when Hussey treated them to a little of the music that comes
from Scotland. The shouts of laughter from the ship added to their
dismay, and they made off as fast as their short legs would carry them.
The pack opened slightly at 6.15 p.m., and we proceeded through lanes
for three hours before being forced to anchor to a floe for the night.
We fired a Hjort mark harpoon, No. 171, into a blue whale on this day.
The conditions did not improve during December 19. A fresh to strong
northerly breeze brought haze and snow, and after proceeding for two
hours the _Endurance_ was stopped again by heavy floes. It was
impossible to manœuvre the ship in the ice owing to the strong wind,
which kept the floes in movement and caused lanes to open and close
with dangerous rapidity. The noon observation showed that we had made
six miles to the south-east in the previous twenty-four hours. All
hands were engaged during the day in rubbing shoots off our potatoes,
which were found to be sprouting freely. We remained moored to a floe
over the following day, the wind not having moderated; indeed, it
freshened to a gale in the afternoon, and the members of the staff and
crew took advantage of the pause to enjoy a vigorously contested game
of football on the level surface of the floe alongside the ship. Twelve
bergs were in sight at this time. The noon position was lat. 62° 42´
S., long. 17° 54´ W., showing that we had drifted about six miles in a
north-easterly direction.
[Illustration: Samson]
[Illustration: Ice-Flowers]
Monday, December 21, was beautifully fine, with a gentle
west-north-westerly breeze. We made a start at 3 a.m. and proceeded
through the pack in a south-westerly direction. At noon we had gained
seven miles almost due east, the northerly drift of the pack having
continued while the ship was apparently moving to the south. Petrels of
several species, penguins, and seals were plentiful, and we saw four
small blue whales. At noon we entered a long lead to the southward and
passed around and between nine splendid bergs. One mighty specimen was
shaped like the Rock of Gibraltar but with steeper cliffs, and another
had a natural dock that would have contained the _Aquitania_. A spur of
ice closed the entrance to the huge blue pool. Hurley brought out his
kinematograph-camera, in order to make a record of these bergs. Fine
long leads running east and south-east among bergs were found during
the afternoon, but at midnight the ship was stopped by small, heavy
ice-floes, tightly packed against an unbroken plain of ice. The outlook
from the mast-head was not encouraging. The big floe was at least 15
miles long and 10 miles wide. The edge could not be seen at the widest
part, and the area of the floe must have been not less than 150 square
miles. It appeared to be formed of year-old ice, not very thick and
with very few hummocks or ridges in it. We thought it must have been
formed at sea in very calm weather and drifted up from the south-east.
I had never seen such a large area of unbroken ice in the Ross Sea.
We waited with banked fires for the strong easterly breeze to moderate
or the pack to open. At 6.30 p.m. on December 22 some lanes opened and
we were able to move towards the south again. The following morning
found us working slowly through the pack, and the noon observation gave
us a gain of 19 miles S. 41° W. for the seventeen and a half hours
under steam. Many year-old adelies, three crab-eaters, six
sea-leopards, one Weddell and two blue whales were seen. The air
temperature, which had been down to 25° Fahr. on December 21, had risen
to 34° Fahr. While we were working along leads to the southward in the
afternoon, we counted fifteen bergs. Three of these were table-topped,
and one was about 70 ft high and 5 miles long. Evidently it had come
from a barrier-edge. The ice became heavier but slightly more open, and
we had a calm night with fine long leads of open water. The water was
so still that new ice was forming on the leads. We had a run of 70
miles to our credit at noon on December 24, the position being lat. 64°
32´ S., long. 17° 17´ W. All the dogs except eight had been named. I do
not know who had been responsible for some of the names, which seemed
to represent a variety of tastes. They were as follows Rugby, Upton
Bristol, Millhill, Songster, Sandy, Mack, Mercury, Wolf, Amundsen,
Hercules, Hackenschmidt, Samson, Sammy, Skipper, Caruso, Sub, Ulysses,
Spotty, Bosun, Slobbers, Sadie, Sue, Sally, Jasper, Tim, Sweep, Martin,
Splitlip, Luke, Saint, Satan, Chips, Stumps, Snapper, Painful, Bob,
Snowball, Jerry, Judge, Sooty, Rufus, Sidelights, Simeon, Swanker,
Chirgwin, Steamer, Peter, Fluffy, Steward, Slippery, Elliott, Roy,
Noel, Shakespeare, Jamie, Bummer, Smuts, Lupoid, Spider, and Sailor.
Some of the names, it will be noticed, had a descriptive flavour.
Heavy floes held up the ship from midnight till 6 a.m. on December 25,
Christmas Day. Then they opened a little and we made progress till
11.30 a.m., when the leads closed again. We had encountered good leads
and workable ice during the early part of the night, and the noon
observation showed that our run for the twenty-four hours was the best
since we entered the pack a fortnight earlier. We had made 71 miles S.
4° W. The ice held us up till the evening, and then we were able to
follow some leads for a couple of hours before the tightly packed floes
and the increasing wind compelled a stop. The celebration of Christmas
was not forgotten. Grog was served at midnight to all on deck. There
was grog again at breakfast, for the benefit of those who had been in
their bunks at midnight. Lees had decorated the wardroom with flags and
had a little Christmas present for each of us. Some of us had presents
from home to open. Later there was a really splendid dinner, consisting
of turtle soup, whitebait, jugged hare, Christmas pudding, mince-pies,
dates, figs and crystallized fruits, with rum and stout as drinks. In
the evening everybody joined in a “sing-song.” Hussey had made a
one-stringed violin, on which, in the words of Worsley, he “discoursed
quite painlessly.” The wind was increasing to a moderate south-easterly
gale and no advance could be made, so we were able to settle down to
the enjoyments of the evening.
The weather was still bad on December 26 and 27, and the _Endurance_
remained anchored to a floe. The noon position on the 26th was lat. 65°
43´ S., long. 17° 36´ W. We made another sounding on this day with the
Lucas machine and found bottom at 2819 fathoms. The specimen brought up
was a terrigenous blue mud (glacial deposit) with some _radiolaria_.
Every one took turns at the work of heaving in, two men working
together in ten-minute spells.
Sunday, December 27, was a quiet day aboard. The southerly gale was
blowing the snow in clouds off the floe and the temperature had fallen
to 23° Fahr. The dogs were having an uncomfortable time in their deck
quarters. The wind had moderated by the following morning, but it was
squally with snow-flurries, and I did not order a start till 11 p.m.
The pack was still close, but the ice was softer and more easily
broken. During the pause the carpenter had rigged a small stage over
the stern. A man was stationed there to watch the propeller and prevent
it striking heavy ice, and the arrangement proved very valuable. It
saved the rudder as well as the propeller from many blows.
The high winds that had prevailed for four and a half days gave way to
a gentle southerly breeze in the evening of December 29. Owing to the
drift we were actually eleven miles farther north than we had been on
December 25. But we made fairly good progress on the 30th in fine,
clear weather. The ship followed a long lead to the south-east during
the afternoon and evening, and at 11 p.m. we crossed the Antarctic
Circle. An examination of the horizon disclosed considerable breaks in
the vast circle of pack-ice, interspersed with bergs of different
sizes. Leads could be traced in various directions, but I looked in
vain for an indication of open water. The sun did not set that night,
and as it was concealed behind a bank of clouds we had a glow of
crimson and gold to the southward, with delicate pale green reflections
in the water of the lanes to the south-east.
The ship had a serious encounter with the ice on the morning of
December 31. We were stopped first by floes closing around us, and then
about noon the _Endurance_ got jammed between two floes heading
east-north-east. The pressure heeled the ship over six degrees while we
were getting an ice-anchor on to the floe in order to heave astern and
thus assist the engines, which were running at full speed. The effort
was successful. Immediately afterwards, at the spot where the
_Endurance_ had been held, slabs of ice 50 ft. by 15 ft. and 4 ft.
thick were forced ten or twelve feet up on the lee floe at an angle of
45°. The pressure was severe, and we were not sorry to have the ship
out of its reach. The noon position was lat. 66° 47´ S., long. 15° 52´
W., and the run for the preceding twenty-four hours was 51 miles S. 29°
E.
“Since noon the character of the pack has improved,” wrote Worsley on
this day. “Though the leads are short, the floes are rotten and easily
broken through if a good place is selected with care and judgment. In
many cases we find large sheets of young ice through which the ship
cuts for a mile or two miles at a stretch. I have been conning and
working the ship from the crow’s-nest and find it much the best place,
as from there one can see ahead and work out the course beforehand, and
can also guard the rudder and propeller, the most vulnerable parts of a
ship in the ice. At midnight, as I was sitting in the ‘tub’ I heard a
clamorous noise down on the deck, with ringing of bells, and realized
that it was the New Year.” Worsley came down from his lofty seat and
met Wild, Hudson, and myself on the bridge, where we shook hands and
wished one another a happy and successful New Year. Since entering the
pack on December 11 we had come 480 miles, through loose and close
pack-ice. We had pushed and fought the little ship through, and she had
stood the test well, though the propeller had received some shrewd
blows against hard ice and the vessel had been driven against the floe
until she had fairly mounted up on it and slid back rolling heavily
from side to side. The rolling had been more frequently caused by the
operation of cracking through thickish young ice, where the crack had
taken a sinuous course. The ship, in attempting to follow it, struck
first one bilge and then the other, causing her to roll six or seven
degrees. Our advance through the pack had been in a S. 10° E.
direction, and I estimated that the total steaming distance had
exceeded 700 miles. The first 100 miles had been through loose pack,
but the greatest hindrances had been three moderate south-westerly
gales, two lasting for three days each and one for four and a half
days. The last 250 miles had been through close pack alternating with
fine long leads and stretches of open water.
During the weeks we spent manœuvring to the south through the tortuous
mazes of the pack it was necessary often to split floes by driving the
ship against them. This form of attack was effective against ice up to
three feet in thickness, and the process is interesting enough to be
worth describing briefly. When the way was barred by a floe of moderate
thickness we would drive the ship at half speed against it, stopping
the engines just before the impact. At the first blow the _Endurance_
would cut a V-shaped nick in the face of the floe, the slope of her
cutwater often causing her bows to rise till nearly clear of the water,
when she would slide backwards, rolling slightly. Watching carefully
that loose lumps of ice did not damage the propeller, we would reverse
the engines and back the ship off 200 to 300 yds. She would then be
driven full speed into the V, taking care to hit the centre accurately.
The operation would be repeated until a short dock was cut, into which
the ship, acting as a large wedge, was driven. At about the fourth
attempt, if it was to succeed at all, the floe would yield. A black,
sinuous line, as though pen-drawn on white paper, would appear ahead,
broadening as the eye traced it back to the ship. Presently it would be
broad enough to receive her, and we would forge ahead. Under the bows
and alongside, great slabs of ice were being turned over and slid back
on the floe, or driven down and under the ice or ship. In this way the
_Endurance_ would split a 2-ft. to 3-ft. floe a square mile in extent.
Occasionally the floe, although cracked across, would be so held by
other floes that it would refuse to open wide, and so gradually would
bring the ship to a standstill. We would then go astern for some
distance and again drive her full speed into the crack, till finally
the floe would yield to the repeated onslaughts.