 Preface of South This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Xena South the story of Shackleton's last expedition 1914 to 1917 by Sir Ernest Shackleton Please note that the Gutenberg.org text includes numerous photographs taken by the expedition photographer. 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 Pole of 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 97 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 my 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 accomplishments 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 and the fastnesses of the polar eyes, striving to carry out the ordained task and ignorant of the crisis 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 organisation 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 the organisation of the expedition and insert here a copy of the programme which I prepared in order to arouse the interest of the general public in the expedition. The Transcontinental 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 1,800 miles, and the first half of this, from the Waddell sea to the pole, will be over unknown ground. Every step will be in advance in geographical science. It will be learned whether the great Victorian 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 Waddell 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 transcontinental 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 Waddell 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 towards 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 transcontinental party at the top of the Beardmoor 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 hydographical work. The Waddell sea ship will endeavour to trace the unknown coastline 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 Waddell 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 Waddell 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 Waddell sea ship with all the members of the expedition operating from that base will leave Buenos Aires in October 1914 and endeavour to land in November in latitude 78 degrees south. Should this be done the Transcontinental 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 Transcontinental Party will be led by Sir Ernest Juckleton 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 upcoming 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 14 men will be landed by the endurance on the Waddell Sea. Six will set out on the Transcontinental journey, three will go westward, three eastward and two remaining 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 Transcontinental Party and make a march south to assist that party and to make geological and other observations as already described. Should the Transcontinental 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 Transcontinental Party to the Waddell Sea and will afterwards explore along an unknown coastline, is a new vessel specially constructed for polo work under the supervision of a committee of Polo Explorers. She was built by Christensen, the famous Norwegian constructor of sailing vessels, at Sandefjord. She is barkentine rigged and has triple expansion engines giving her a speed under steam of 9 to 10 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 green heart. This fine vessel, equipped, has cost the expedition 14,000 pounds. 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 would 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 1800 miles to be made, the first 900 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 5000 applications and out of these were picked 56 men. In March, to my great disappointment and anxiety, the promised financial help did not materialise 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 everyone 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 magnificent 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 Lampton, 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 £1,000 and last but by no means least, I take this opportunity of tendering my grateful thanks to Dame Janet Stankham-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 acknowledgement for the help accorded to 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 of the expedition. The 200 miles of new coastline I have called Caird Coast. Also, as a more personal note, I named the three ships boats, in which we ultimately escaped from the grip of the ice, after the three principal donors to the expedition, the James Caird, the Stankham-Wills and the Dudley Docker. The two last names are still on the desolate sandy spit of Elephant Island, where under their shelter, 22 of my comrades, eaked 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 are 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 organisation went on. I purchased the Aurora from Sir Douglas Mawson and arranged for Mackintosh to go to Australia and take charge of her. They are 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 1st 1914 and anchored off South End 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 mobilisation. 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 the 8th 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 among the members of this expedition is high. The voyage out to Buenos Aires 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 Aires. Then the Russian steamroller 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 to 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 Dr. McNab, Minister of Marine, Mr. Leonard Tripp, Mr. Maybin and Mr. Tugood 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's trawler, Instituto de Pesca, for the second attempt at the relief of my men on Elephant Island. Finally it was the Chilean Government that was directly responsible for the rescue of my comrades. The Southern Republic was unwirried 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 Munoz Hurtado, Head of the Chilean Navy and Captain Luis Pardo who commanded the Yelko 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. End of preface. Recorded by Gesina in September 2007. South. The Story of Shackleton's Last Expedition, 1914-1917 by Sir Ernest Shackleton. Chapter 1. Into the Weddell Sea, Part 1. I decided to leave South Georgia about December 5th and in the intervals of final preparation scanned against 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 neighborhood of the South Sandwich Group. They told me they had often seen the flows come right up to the group in the summertime 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 Coatsland 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 Lucer Ice, pick up Coatsland and finally reach Vossel 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 harbor might be very great. If no safe harbor 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 unfavorable. In view of the possibility of wintering the ship in the ice we took extra clothing from the stores at 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 program of sending one party to the south one to the west round the head of the Weddell Sea towards Gramland 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 15 to 20 miles a day with loaded sledges. The transcontinental 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 base was turned toward us. All the conditions in the Weddell Sea are unfavorable from the navigator's point of view. The winds are comparatively light and consequently new ice can form even in the summertime. 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 bite of the Weddell Sea as they move north in a great semi-circle. 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 on our immediate problem, the penetration of the pack and the finding of a safe harbor 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 sleep, 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 fourth, but she carried no letters and nothing useful in the way of information could be gleaned for 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 Gravitkin station, had arrived with mail for us not more than two hours after the endurance had proceeded down the coast. The bowels 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 sailed to the southeast. 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 fore sole reefed in order to give the lookout 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 Grid Vitkin 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 attractive 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. During December 6 the endurance made good progress on a southeasterly 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, mollymox, nellies, sooty, and wandering albatrosses in the neighborhood 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 color 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 stored on deck. Sanders Island and Candlemas were sited early in the afternoon and the endurance passed between them at six p.m. Warsley'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 northeast 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 southwesterly swell made the pack impenetrable in our neighborhood. This was disconcerting. The noon latitude had been fifty-seven degrees twenty-six minutes south and I had not expected to find pack ice nearly so far north, though the whalers had reported pack ice right up to South Dool. 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 three 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 northwest and saw open water to the northeast. 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 southwesternly 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 southwesternly 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 latitude 58 degrees 27 minutes south, longitude 28 degrees 8 minutes west. 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 make no 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 south 40 degrees east and at noon on the tenth had reached latitude 58 degrees 28 minutes south, longitude 20 degrees 28 minutes west. Observations showed the compass variation to be one-and-one-half degrees less than the chart recorded. I kept the endurance on course till midnight when we entered loose open ice about 90 miles southeast 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 birds lay outside the pack. The endurance steamed through loose open ice till 8 a.m. on the eleventh when we entered the pack in latitude 59 degrees 46 minutes south, longitude 18 degrees 22 minutes west. 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 four-cell 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 a flow, 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. Warsly, wild, and eye 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 semen 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 wettel seal and a crab-eater seal were noticed on the flows 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 continue 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 come in again five hours later when the wind hauled round to the west. The noon position was latitude 60 degrees 26 minutes south, longitude 17 degrees 58 minutes west and the run for the 24 hours had been only 33 miles. The ice was still badly congested and we were pushing through narrow leads and occasional openings with the flows often close a beam on either side. Antarctic, snow and stormy petrels, fulmers, white-rumped turns 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 flows 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 new observations showed the run for the 24 hours to be 54 miles a satisfactory result under the conditions. Wilde shot a young Ross seal on the flow and we maneuvered the ship alongside. Hudson jumped down, bent a line on to the seal and the pair of them were hauled up. The seal was four foot nine inches long and weighed about 90 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 28 men with a few scraps for our breakfast and tea. The stomach contained only amaphods about an inch long allied to those found in the whales at Gritivkin. The conditions became harder on December 14th. There was a misty haze and occasional falls of snow. A few birds 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 gym 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 away 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 southwesterly gale during the afternoon and at 8 p.m. we hoved to stern against a flow 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 northwesterly swell still held with us. It added to the difficulties of navigation in the lanes since the ice was constantly in movement. End of Chapter 1 Part 1 Chapter 1 Part 2 of South South. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. South. The Story of Shackleton's Last Expedition, 1914-1917 by Sir Ernest Shackleton. Chapter 1 Into the Weddle Sea, Part 2 The endurance remained against the flow for the next 24 hours when the gale moderated. The pack extended to the horizon in all directions and was broken by innumerable narrow lanes. Many birds were in sight and they appeared to be traveling through the pack in a southwesterly direction under the current influence. Probably the pack itself was moving northeast with the gale. Clark put down a net in search of specimens and at two fathoms it was carried southwest by the current and fouled the propeller. He lost the net, two leads, and a line. Ten birds drove to the south through the pack during the 24 hours. The noon position was 61 degrees, 31 minutes south. Longitude, 18 degrees, 12 minutes west. 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 of the semipore, hard apport, 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 southwest 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 flow. Worsley was out on the jib boom end for a few minutes while Wilde 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 boughs 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 degrees Fahrenheit, pleasantly warm and the water temperature 29 degrees Fahrenheit. We continued to advance through fine long leads till 4 a.m. on December 17th when the ice became difficult again. Very large flows of six month old ice lay close together. Some of these flows presented a square mile of unbroken surface and among them were patches of thin ice and several flows 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 flow 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 Hussie, who was at the wheel, explained that the wheel spun round and threw me over the top of it. The noon position was latitude 62 degrees 13 minutes south, longitude 18 degrees 53 minutes west and the run for the preceding 24 hours had been 32 miles in a southwesternly direction. We saw three blue whales during the day and one emperor penguin, a 58 pound bird which was added to the larder. The morning of December 18 found the endurance proceeding amongst large flows 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 nine foot three inches long. He weighed 600 pounds. Shortly before noon further progress was barred by heavy pack and we put an ice anchor on the flow and banked the fires. I had been prepared for evil conditions in the wettle 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. In various 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 labor 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 raps so forming double thicknesses of a toffee-like consistency. Again the opposing edges of heavy flows rear up in slow and almost silent conflict till high hedgerows are formed around each part of the puzzle. At the junction of several flows chaotic areas of piled up blocks and masses of ice are formed. Sometimes five foot to six foot 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 six foot to ten foot 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 one hundred and fifty or two hundred miles offshore. 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 too. The ship was three foot, three inches 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 four mast 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 a 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 2,810 fathoms. The bottom sample was lost owing to the line parting 60 fathoms from the end. During the afternoon three Adele penguins approached the ship across the flow while Hussie 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 Hussie 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 flow for the night. We fired a Yorked mark harpoon number 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 flows. It was impossible to maneuver the ship in the ice owing to the strong wind which kept the flows in movement and caused lanes to open and close with dangerous rapidity. The noon observation showed that we had made six miles to the southeast in the previous 24 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 flow 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 flow alongside the ship. Twelve bergs were in sight at this time. The noon position was latitude 62 degrees 42 minutes south, longitude 17 degrees 54 minutes west showing that we had drifted about six miles in a northeasterly direction. Monday December 21 was beautifully fine with a gentle northwesterly breeze. We made a start at 3 a.m. and proceeded through the pack in a northeasterly 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 in between nine splendid bergs. One mighty specimen was shaped more alter 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 southeast among bergs were found during the afternoon but at midnight the ship was stopped by small heavy ice flows being packed against an unbroken plane of ice. The outlook from the mast head was not encouraging. The big flow 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 flow must have been not less than 150 square miles. It appeared to be formed of year old ice, not very thick and with few hummocks or ridges in it. We thought it must have been formed from weather and drifted up from the southeast. 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 view of 19 miles south 41 degrees west for the 17.5 hours under steam. Many year old Adelies, three crab eaters six sea leopards, one wettle and two blue whales were seen. The air temperature which had been down to 25 degrees Fahrenheit on December 21 had risen to 34 degrees Fahrenheit. While we were working along leads to the southward in the afternoon we counted 15 bergs. Three of these were tabletopped and one was about 70 feet high and five 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 latitude 64 degrees 31 minutes south longitude 17 degrees 17 minutes west. 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 Mill Hill Songster Sandy Mack Mercury Wolf Amundsen Hercules Hackenschmidt Dawson Slaubers Sadie Sue Sally Jasper Tim Sweep Martin Splitlip Luke St. Satan Chips Stump Snapper Painful Bob Snowball Jerry Judge Sooty Rufus Sidelights Simeon Swanker Chirguin Steamer Peter Fluffy Steward Slippery Elliott Roy Noel Peter and Sailor Some of the names it will be noticed had a descriptive flavor. Heavy flows held up the ship for 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 eyes during the early part of the night and the new observations showed that our run for the 24 hours was the best overnight earlier. We had made 71 miles south 4 degrees west. The eyes held us up till the evening and then we were able to follow some leads for a couple of hours before the tightly packed flows and the increasing wind compelled a stop. The celebration of Christmas was not forgotten. Grogg was served at midnight to all on deck. There was Grogg again at breakfast 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, white bait, jugged hair, Christmas pudding, mince pies, dates, figs, and crystallized fruits with rum and stout as drinks. In the evening everybody joined a sing song. Hussey had made a one-stringed violin on which in the words of Worsley he discoursed quite painlessly. It was increasing to a moderate southeasterly 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 flow. The noon position on the 26th was latitude 65 degrees 41 minutes south, longitude 17 degrees 36 minutes west. We made another sounding on this day with the Lucas machine and found bottom at 2819 fathoms. The specimen brought up was a pterogeneous blue mud glacial deposit with some radiolara. Everyone 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 and clouds off the flow and the temperature had fallen to 23 degrees Fahrenheit. 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 until 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 11 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 southeast during the afternoon and evening and at 11 p.m. we crossed the Antarctic Circle. An examination of the horizon posed considerable breaks in the vast circle of pack ice interspersed with birds 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 southeast. The ship had a serious encounter with the ice on the morning of December 31. We were stopped first by flows closing around us and then about noon the endurance got jammed between two flows heading east northeast. The pressure healed the ship over six degrees while we were getting an ice anchor onto the flow in order to heave a stern and thus assist the engines, which were running at full speed. The effect was successful. Immediately afterwards at the spot where the endurance had been, slabs of ice 50 feet by 15 feet and 4 feet thick were forced 10 or 12 feet up on the lee flow at an angle of 45 degrees. The pressure was severe and we were not sorry to have the ship out of its reach. The noon position was latitude 66 degrees 47 minutes south longitude 15 degrees 52 minutes west and the run for the preceding 24 hours was 51 miles south 29 degrees east. Since noon the character of the pack has improved, wrote Worley on this day. Though the leads are short, the flows 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 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. Worley came down from his lofty seat and met Wilde, 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 closed 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 flow 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 thickest young ice where the ship had been in a continuous course. The ship in attempting to follow it struck first one bilge and then the other causing her to roll 6 or 7 degrees. Our advance through the pack had been in a south 10 degrees east 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 3 moderate southwesterly gales, 2 lasting for 3 days each and 1 for 4 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 maneuvering to the south through the torturous measures of the pack it was necessary often to split flows by driving the ship against them. This form of attack was effective against ice up to 3 feet in thickness and the process is interesting enough to be worth describing briefly. When the way a flow 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 flow. The slope of her cut water 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 yards. She would then be driven full speed into the V taking care to hit the center 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 flow 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 flow or driven down and under the ice or ship. In this way the endurance would split a two foot to three foot flow a square mile an extent. Occasionally the flow although cracked across would be so held by other flows that it would refuse to open wide and so gradually would bring the ship to a standstill. We would then go a stern for some distance and drive her full speed into the crack till finally the flow would yield to the repeated onslaughts. End of Chapter 1 Part 2 Chapter 2 Part 1 of South This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org South The Story of Shackleton's Last Expedition Chapter 14 to 1917 by Sir Ernest Shackleton Chapter 2 Part 1 New Land The first day of the new year January 1st, 1915 was cloudy with a gentle northerly breeze and occasional snow squalls. The condition of the pack improved in the evening and after 8 p.m. we forged ahead rapidly through the brittle young ice easily broken by the ship. A few hours later a moderate gale came out from the east with continuous snow. After 4 a.m. on the 2nd we got into thick old pack ice showing signs of heavy pressure. It was much hummocked but large areas of open water and long leads to the south-west continued until noon. The position then was latitude 69°, 49 minutes south, longitude 15°, and the run for the 24 hours had been 124 miles south, 3° west. This was cheering. The heavy pack blocked the way south after midday. It would have been almost impossible to have pushed the ship into the ice and in any case the gale would have made such a proceeding highly dangerous. So we dodged along to the west and north with a terrible opening towards the south. The good run had given me hope of sighting the land on the following day and the delay was annoying. I was growing anxious to reach land on account of the dogs which had not been able to get exercise for four weeks and were becoming run down. We passed at least 200 bergs during the day and we noticed also large masses of hummocky bay ice and ice foot. One flow of bay ice on it, apparently balsatic in origin, and there was a large berg with a broad band of yellowish brown right through it. The stain may have been volcanic dust. Many of the bergs had quaint shapes. There was one that exactly resembled a large two funneled liner complete in silhouette except for smoke. Later in the day we found an opening in the pack and made nine miles to the south west. But at 2 a.m. on January 3 the lead ended in hummocky ice impossible to penetrate. A moderate easterly gale had come up with snow squalls and we could not get a clear view in any direction. The hummocky ice did not offer suitable anchorage for the ship and we were compelled to dodge up and down for ten hours before we were able to make fast to a small flow under the lee of a berg 120 feet high. The berg broke the wind and saved us drifting fast to Leeward. The position was latitude 69 degrees 59 minutes south longitude 17 degrees 31 minutes west. We made a move again at 7 p.m. when we took in the ice anchor and proceeded south and at 10 p.m. we passed a small berg that the ship had nearly touched twelve hours previously. Obviously we were not making much headway. The bergs passed during this day were of solid blue ice indicating true glacier origin. By midnight of the third we had made 11 miles to the south and then came to a full stop in weather so thick with snow that we could not learn if the leads and lanes were worth entering. The ice was hummocky but fortunately the gale was decreasing and after we had scanned all the leads and pools within our reach we turned back to the north east. Two sperm and two large blue wells were sighted. The first we had seen for 260 miles we also saw petrels, numerous Adelies emperors, crab eaters and sea leopards. The clear weather of the morning showed us that the pack was solid and impassable from the south east to the south west and at 10 a.m. on the fourth we again passed within five yards of the small berg that we had passed twice on the previous day. We had been steaming and dodging about for over an area of 20 square miles for 50 hours trying to find an opening to the south south east or south west but all the leads ran north north east or north west. It was as though the spirits of the Antarctic were pointing us to the backward track. The track we were determined not to follow. Our desire was to make easting as well as sauthing so as to reach the land if possible east of Ross's furthest south and well east of Coatsland. This was more important as the prevailing winds appeared to be easterly and every mile of easting would count. In the afternoon we went west in some open water and by 4 p.m. we were making west south west with more water opening up ahead. The sun was shining brightly over three degrees high at midnight and we were able to maintain this direction in fine weather till the following noon. The position then was latitude 70 degrees 28 minutes south longitude 20 degrees 16 minutes west and the run had been 62 miles south 62 degrees west. At 8 a.m. there had been open water from north round by west to south west but impenetrable pack to the south east. At 3 p.m. the way to the south west and west northwest was absolutely blocked and as we experienced a set to the west I did not feel justified in burning more of the reduced stock of coal to go west or north. I took the ship back over our course for four miles to a point where some looser pack gave faint promise of a way through but after battling for three hours with very heavy hummocked ice and making four miles to the south we were brought up by the huge blocks and flows of very old pack. Further effort seemed useless at that time and I gave the order to bank fires after we had moored the insurance to a solid flow. The weather was clear and some enthusiastic football players had a game on the flow until about midnight. Worsley dropped through a hole in rotten ice while retrieving the ball and had to be retrieved himself. Solid pack still barred the way to the south on the following morning, January 6. There was some open water north of the flow but as the day was calm and I did not wish to use coal in a possibly vain search for an opening to the southward I kept the ship moored to the flow. This pause in good weather gave an opportunity to exercise the dogs which were taken on to the flow by the men in charge of them. The excitement of the animals was intense. Several managed to get into the water and the muzzles they were wearing did not prevent some hot fights. Two dogs which had contrived to slip their muzzles fought themselves into an icy pool and were hauled out still locked in a grapple. However, men and dogs enjoyed the exercise. A sounding gave a depth of 2,400 fathoms with a blue mud bottom. The wind freshened from the west morning and we started to skirt the northern edge of the solid pack in an easterly direction under the sail. We had cleared the closed pack by noon but the outlook to the south gave small promise of useful progress and I was anxious now to make easting. We went northeast under sail and after making 39 miles passed a peculiar burg that we had been abreast of 60 hours earlier. Killer whales were becoming active around us and I had to exercise caution in allowing anyone to leave the ship. These beasts have a habit of locating a resting seal by looking over the edge of a flow and then striking through the ice from below in search of a meal. They would not distinguish between seal and man. The noon position on January 8th was latitude 70 degrees 0 minutes south, longitude 19 degrees 9 minutes west. We had made 66 miles in a north easterly direction during the preceding 24 hours. The course during the afternoon was east south east through loose pack and open water with deep hummocky flows to the south. Several leads to the south came in view but we held on the easterly course. The flows were becoming looser and there were indications of open water ahead. The ship passed not fewer than 500 birds that day, some of them very large. A dark watersky extended from east to south southeast on the following morning and the insurance working through loose pack at half speed reached open water just before noon. A rampart bird 150 feet high and a quarter of a mile long lay at the edge of the loose pack and we sailed over a projecting foot into rolling ocean stretching to the horizon. The sea extended from a little to the west of south round by east to north northeast and its welcome promise was supported by a deep watersky to the south. I laid a course south by east in an endeavour to get south and east of Ross's furthest south. Latitude 71 degrees 30 minutes south. We kept the open water for a hundred miles passing many birds but encountering no pack. Two very large whales probably blue whales came up close to the ship and we saw spouts in all directions. Open water inside the pack in that latitude might have the appeal of sanctuary to the whales which are harried by man further north. The run southward in blue water with a path cleared ahead and the miles falling away behind us was a joyful experience after the long struggle through the ice lanes. But like other good things our spell of free movement had to end. The insurance encountered the ice again at one a.m. on the tenth. Loose pack stretched to east and south with open water to the west and a good watersky. It consisted partly of heavy hammocky ice showing evidence of pressure. But contained also many thick flat flows evidently formed in some sheltered bay and never subjected to pressure or to much motion. The swirl of the ship's wash brought diatomaceous scum from the sides of this ice. The water became thick with diatoms at nine a.m. and I ordered a cast to be made. No bottom was found at two hundred and ten fathoms. We were ready to advance southward through Loose pack that morning. We saw the spouts of numerous whales and noticed some hundreds of crab-eaters lying on the flows. White-romped terns, Antarctic petrels, and snow-petrels were numerous and there was a colony of Adelies on a low berg. A few killer whales with their characteristic high dorsal fin also came in view. The noon position was latitude seventy-two degrees two minutes south, longitude sixteen degrees seven minutes west, and the run for the twenty-four hours had been 136 miles south, six degrees east. We were now in the vicinity of the land discovered by Dr. W. S. Bruce, leader of the Scotia Expedition in 1904 and named by him Coatsland. Dr. Bruce encountered an ice barrier in latitude seventy-two degrees eighteen minutes south, longitude ten degrees west, stretching from the northeast to southwest. He followed the barrier edge to the southwest for 150 miles and reached latitude seventy-four degrees one minute south longitude twenty-two degrees west. He saw no naked rock but his description of rising slopes of snow and ice with shoaling water off the barrier wall indicated clearly the presence of land. It was up those slopes at a point as far south as possible that I planned to begin the march across the Antarctic continent. All hands were watching now for the coast described by Dr. Bruce. And at five p.m. the lookout reported an appearance of land to the south southeast. We could see a gentle snow slope rising to a height of about one thousand feet. It seemed to be an island with a peninsula with a sound on its south side. And the position of its most northerly point was about seventy-two degrees thirty-four minutes south, sixteen degrees forty minutes west. The insurance was passing through heavy loose pack and shortly before midnight she broke into a lead of open sea along a barrier edge. A sounding within one cable's length of the barrier edge was two hundred and ten fathoms of line. The barrier was seventy feet high with cliffs of about forty feet. The Scotia must have passed this point when pushing to Bruce's farthest south on March 6, 1904. And I knew from the narrative of that voyage as well as from our own observation that the coast trended away to the southwest. The lead of open water continued along the barrier edge pushed forward without delay. An easterly breeze brought clouds and falls of snow during the morning of January 11th. The barrier trended southwest by south and we skirted it for fifty miles until eleven a.m. The cliffs in the morning were twenty feet high and by noon they had increased to one hundred and ten and one hundred and fifteen feet. The brow apparently rose twenty to thirty feet higher. We were forced away from the barrier once for three hours by a line of very heavy pack ice. Otherwise there is open water along the edge with high loose pack to the west and northwest. We noticed a seal bobbing up and down in an apparent effort to swallow a long silvery fish that projected at least eighteen inches from its mouth. The noon position was latitude seventy three degrees thirteen minutes south and latitude twenty degrees forty three minutes west and a sounding then gave one hundred and fifty five fathoms at a distance of a mile from the barrier. The bottom consisted of large igneous pebbles. The weather then became thick and I held away to the westward where the sky had given indications of open water until seven p.m. when we laid the ship alongside in a flow in loose pack. We were anxious lest the westerly wind should bring the pack hard against the coast and jam the ship. The Nimrod had a narrow escape from a misadventure of this kind in the Ross Sea early in 1908. We made a start again at five a.m. the next morning January twelfth in overcast weather with mist and snow showers and four hours later broke through loose pack ice into open water. The view was obscured but we proceeded to the southeast and had gained twenty-four miles by noon when three soundings in latitude seventy-four degrees four minutes south longitude twenty-two degrees forty-eight minutes west gave ninety-five, one hundred and twenty-eight and one hundred and three fathoms with a bottom of sand, pebbles and mud. Clark got a good haul of biological specimens in the dredge. The occurrence was now close to what appeared to be the barrier with a heavy pack ice foot containing numerous bergs frozen in and possibly aground. The solid ice turned away towards the northwest and we followed the ice for forty-eight miles north sixty degrees west to clear it. Now we were beyond the point reached by the Scotia and the land underlying the ice-sheet we were skirting was new. The northerly trend was unexpected and I began to suspect that we were really rounding a huge ice-tongue attached to the true barrier edge and extending northward. Events confirmed this suspicion. We skirted the pack all night steering northwest then west by north till four a.m. and round to the southwest. The course at eight a.m. on the thirteenth was south southwest. The barrier at midnight was low and distant and at eight a.m. there was merely a narrow ice foot about two hundred yards across separating it from the open water. By noon there was only an occasional shelf of ice foot. The barrier in one place came with an easy sweep to the sea. We could have landed stores there without difficulty. We made the sounding four hundred feet near but got no bottom at six hundred and seventy-six fathoms. At four p.m. still following the barrier to the southwest we reached a corner and found it receding abruptly to the southeast. Our wave was blocked by very heavy pack and after spending two hours in vain searching for an opening we moored the endurance to a flow and banked fires. During that day we passed two schools of seals moving fast to the northwest and north northeast. The animals swam in close order rising and blowing like porpoises and we wondered if there was any significance in their journey northward at that time of the year. Several young emperor penguins had been captured and brought aboard on the previous day. Two of them were still alive when the insurance was brought along the ice flow. They promptly hopped onto the ice, turned round, bowed gracefully three times and retired to the far side of the flow. There is something curiously human about the manners and movements of these birds. I was concerned about the dogs. They were losing condition and some of them appeared to be ailing. One dog had to be shot on the twelfth. We did not move the ship on the fourteenth. A breeze came from the east in the evening and under its influence the pack began to work offshore. Before midnight the close ice that had barred our way had opened and left a lane along the foot of the barrier. I decided to wait for the morning not wishing to risk getting caught between the barrier and the pack in the event of the wind changing. A sounding gave one thousand three hundred and fifty seven fathoms with a bottom of glacial mud. The noon observation showed the position to be latitude seventy-four degrees nine minutes south longitude twenty-seven degrees sixteen minutes west. We cast off at six a.m. on the fifteenth in hazy weather with a northeasterly breeze and proceeded along the barrier in open water. The course was southeast for sixteen miles then south southeast. We now had solid pack to windward and at three p.m. we passed a bite probably ten miles deep and running to the northeast. A similar bite appeared at six p.m. These deep cuts strengthened the impression we had already formed that for several days we had been rounding a great mass of ice at least fifty miles across stretching out from the coast and possibly destined to float away at some time in the future. The soundings roughly two hundred fathoms at the landward side and one thousand three hundred fathoms at the seaward side suggested that this mighty projection was afloat. Seals were plentiful. We saw large numbers on the pack and several on low parts of the barrier where the slope was easy. The ship passed through large schools of seals swimming from the barrier to the pack offshore. The animals were splashing and blowing around the endurance and Hurley made a record of this unusual sight with a cinematograph camera. The barrier now stretched to the southwest again. Sail was set to a fresh easterly breeze but at seven p.m. it had to be furled. The endurance being held up by pack ice against the barrier for an hour. We took advantage of the pause to sound and got two hundred and sixty-eight fathoms with glacial mud and pebbles. Then a small lane appeared ahead. We pushed through at full speed and by eight thirty p.m. the endurance was moving southward with sails set in a fine expanse of open water. We continued to skirt the barrier in clear weather. I was watching for possible landing places though as a matter of fact I had no intention of landing north of Vashal Bay in loot-pulled land except under pressure of necessity. Every mile gained towards the south meant a mile less sludging when the time came for the overland journey. Shortly before midnight on the fifteenth we came abreast of the northern edge of a great glacier or overflow from the inland ice projecting beyond the barrier into the sea. It was four hundred or five hundred feet high and at its edge was a large mass of thick bay ice. The bay formed by the northern edge of this glacier would have made an excellent landing place. A flat ice-foot nearly three feet above sea level looked like a natural key. From this ice-foot a snow-slope rose to the top of the barrier the bay was protected from the south-easterly wind and was open only to the northerly wind which is rare in those latitudes. A sounding gave eighty fathoms indicating that the glacier was ground. I named the place Glacier Bay and had reason later to remember it with regret. The insurance deemed along the front of this ice-flow for about seventeen miles. The glacier showed huge crevices and high pressure ridges and appeared to run back to ice-covered slopes or hills one thousand or two thousand feet high. Some bays in its front were filled with smooth ice dotted with seals and penguins. At four a.m. on the sixteenth we reached the edge of another huge glacial overflow from the ice-sheet. The ice appeared to be coming over low hills and was heavily broken. The cliff-face was two hundred and fifty to three hundred and fifty feet high and the ice-surface two miles inland was probably two thousand feet high. The cliff-front showed a tide-mark of about six feet proving that it was not a float. We deemed along the front of this tremendous glacier for forty miles and then at eight thirty a.m. we were held up by solid pack-ice which appeared to be held by stranded bergs. The depth, two cables off the barrier cliff was one hundred and thirty-four fathoms. No further advance was possible that day, but the noon observation which gave the position as latitude seventy-six twenty-seven minutes south longitude twenty-eight degrees fifty-one minutes west showed that we had gained one hundred and twenty-four miles to the south-west during the preceding twenty-four hours. The afternoon was not without incident. The bergs in the neighborhood were very large several being over two hundred feet high and some of them were firmly aground showing tide-marks. A barrier-berg bearing north-west appeared to be about twenty-five miles long. We pushed the ship against a small banded berg from which wordy secured several large lumps of biotite granite. While the insurance was being held slow ahead against the berg a loud crack was heard and the geologists had to scramble aboard at once. The bands on this berg were particularly well-defined. They were due to morianic action in the parent glacier. Later in the day the easterly wind increased to a gale. Fragments of flow drifted past at about two knots and the pack to leeward began to break up fast. A low berg of shallow draught drove down into the grinding pack and, smashing against two larger stranded bergs pushed them off the bank. The three went away together pel-mel. We took shelter under the lee berg. End of chapter 2 part 1 Chapter 2 part 2 of South This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. South the story of Shackleton's last expedition, 1914 to 1917 by Sir Ernest Shackleton Chapter 2 Part 2 New Land A blizzard from the east, northeast prevented us leaving the shelter of the berg on the following day Sunday, January 17th. The weather was clear but the gale drove dense clouds of snow off the land and obscured the coastline most of the time. The land seen when the air is clear appears higher than we thought it yesterday, probably it rises to three thousand feet ahead of the glacier. Cured coast as I have named it connects Coates Land, discovered by Bruce in 1904 with Loot-Pold Land, discovered by Filchner in 1912. The northern part is similar in character to Coates Land. It is fronted by an undulating barrier, the van of a mighty ice-sheet that is being forced outward from the high interior of the Antarctic continent and apparently is sweeping over hills, plains and shallow seas as the great Arctic ice-sheet once pressed over northern Europe. The barrier surface seen from the sea is of a faint golden brown color. It terminates usually in cliffs ranging from ten to three hundred feet in height, but in a very few places sweeps down level with the sea. The cliffs are of a dazzling whiteness with wonderful blue shadows. Far inland higher slopes can be seen, appearing like dim blue or faint golden fleecy clouds. These distant slopes have increased in nearness and clearness as we have come to the south-west while the barrier cliffs here are higher and apparently firmer. We are now close to the junction with Loot-Pold Land. At this southern end of the Cured Coast the ice-sheet undulating over the hidden and imprisoned land is bursting down deep slope in tremendous glaciers bristling with ridges and spikes of ice and seemed by thousands of crevices. Along the whole length of the coast we have seen no bare land or rock. Not as much as a solitary none-attack has appeared to relieve the surface of ice and snow. But the upward sweep of the ice-slopes towards the horizon and the ridges terraces and crevices that appear as the ice approaches the sea tell of the hills and valleys that lie below. The insurance lay under the lee of the Stranded Burg until 7 a.m. on January 18th. The gale had moderated by that time and we proceeded under sail to the south-west through a lane that had opened along the Glacier Front. We skirted the glacier till 9.30 a.m. when it ended in two bays open to the north-west but sheltered by Stranded Burgs to the west. The coast beyond trended south-south-west with a gentle landslope. The pack now forces us to go west 14 miles when we break through a long line of heavy brash mixed with large lumps and growlers. We do this under the four top-sail only, the engines being stopped to protect the propeller. This takes us into open water where we make south 50 degrees west 10 miles. Then we again encounter pack which forces us to the north-west for 10 miles when we are brought up by heavy snow-lumps, brash and large loose flows. The character of the pack shows change. The flows are very thick and are covered by deep snow. The brash between the flows is so thick and heavy that we cannot push through without great expenditure of power and then for a short time. We therefore lie too for a while to see if the pack opens at all when this northeast wind ceases. Our position on the morning of the nineteenth was latitude 76 degrees 34 minutes south, longitude 31 degrees 30 minutes west. The weather was good but no advance could be made. The ice had closed around the ship during the night and no water could be seen in any direction from the deck. A few lanes were in sight from the mast-head. We sounded in 312 fathoms finding mud, sand and pebbles. The land showed faintly to the east. We waited for the conditions to improve and the scientists took the opportunity to dredge for biological and geological specimens. During the night a moderate northeasterly gale sprang up and a survey of the position showed that the ship was firmly beset. The ice was packed heavily and firmly all round the insurance in every direction as far as the eye could reach from the mast-head. There was nothing to be done till the conditions changed and we waited through that day and the succeeding days with increased anxiety. The east northeasterly gale that had forced us to take shelter behind the stranded berg on the sixteenth had veered later east and it continued with varying intensity until the twenty-second. Apparently this wind had crowded the ice into the bite of the Weddell Sea and the ship was now drifting south-west with the flows which had enclosed it. A slight movement of the ice round the ship caused the rudder to become dangerously jammed on the twenty-first and we had to cut away the ice with ice-chisels. Heavy pieces of iron with six-foot wooden halves. We kept steam up in readiness for a move if the opportunity offered and the engines running full speed ahead helped to clear the rudder. Land was in sight to the east and south about sixteen miles distant on the twenty-second. The land-ice seemed to be faced with ice-cliffs at most points but here and there slopes ran down to sea-level. Large crevice areas in terraces parallel with the coast showed where the ice was moving down over foothills. The inland ice appeared for the most part to be undulating, smooth and easy to march over but many crevices might have been concealed from us by the surface snow or by the absence of shadows. I thought that the land probably rose to a height of five thousand feet, forty or fifty miles inland. The accurate estimation of heights and distances in the Antarctic was always difficult owing to the clear air the confusion monotony of colouring and the deceptive effect of mirage and refraction. The land appeared to increase in height to the southward where we saw a line of land or barrier that must have been seventy miles and possibly was even more distant. Sunday, January twenty-fourth was a clear sunny day with gentle easterly and southerly breezes. No open water could be seen from the masthead but there was a slight water sky to the west and northwest. This is the first time for ten days that the wind had varied from north-east and east and on five of these days it had risen to a gale. Evidently the ice has become firmly packed in this quarter and we must wait patiently till a southerly gale occurs or currents open the ice. We are drifting slowly. The position to day was seventy-six degrees forty-nine minutes south thirty-three degrees fifty-one minutes west. Worsley and James, working on the flow with a Q-magnometer found the variation to be six degrees west. Just before midnight a crack developed in the ice five yards wide and a mile long fifty yards ahead of the ship. The crack had widened to a quarter of a mile by ten a.m. on the twenty-fifth and for three hours we tried to force the ship into this opening with engines at full speed ahead and all sails set. The sole effect was to wash some ice away a stern and clear the redder and after convincing myself that the ship was firmly held I abandoned the attempt. Later in the day Crane and two of my other men were over the side on a stage chipping at a large piece of ice that had got under the ship impeding her movement. The ice broke away suddenly, shot up and overturned, pinning Crane between the stage and the half of the heavy eleven-foot iron pincer. He was in danger for a few moments but we got him clear, suffering merely from a few bad bruises. The thick iron bar had been bent against him to an angle of forty-five degrees. The days that followed were uneventful, moderate bruises from the south and south-west had no apparent effect upon the ice and the ship remained firmly held. On the twenty-seventh the tenth day of inactivity I decided to let the fires out. We had been burning half a ton of coal a day to keep steam in the boilers and as the bunkers now contained only sixty-seven tons representing thirty-three days steaming we could not afford to continue this expenditure of fuel. The land still showed to the east and south when the horizon was clear. The biologist was securing some interesting specimens with the hand-dredge at various depths. A sounding on the twenty-six gave three hundred and sixty fathoms and another on the twenty-ninth four hundred and forty-nine fathoms. The drift was to the west and an observation on the thirty-first Sunday showed that the ship had made eight miles during the week. James and Hudson rigged the wireless in the hope of hearing some monthly message from the Falkland Islands. This message would be due about three twenty a.m. on the following morning. But James was doubtful about hearing anything with our small apparatus at a distance of one thousand six hundred and thirty miles from the dispatching station. We heard nothing as a matter of fact and later efforts were similarly unsuccessful. The conditions would have been difficult even for a station of high power. We were accumulating gradually a stock of seal-meat during these days of waiting. Fresh meat for the dogs was needed and seal-stakes and liver made a very welcome change from the ship's rations aboard the endurance. Four crab-eaters and three whettles over a ton of meat for dog and man fell to our guns on February 2nd and all hands were occupied most of the day getting the carcasses back to the ship over the rough ice. We rigged three sledges for man-hollage and brought the seals about two miles the sludging-parties being guided among the ridges and pools by semaphore from the crow's nest. Two more seals recited on the far side of a big pool but I did not allow them to be pursued. Some of the ice was in a treacherous condition with thin films hiding cracks and pools and I did not wish to risk an accident. A crack about four miles long opened in the flow to the stern of the ship on the third. The narrow lane in front was still open but the prevailing light breezes did not seem likely to produce any useful movement in the ice. Early on the morning of the fifth a northeasterly gale sprang up bringing overcast skies and thick snow. Soon the pack was opening and closing without much loosening effect. At noon the ship gave a sudden start and healed over three degrees. Immediately afterwards a crack ran from the bows to the lead ahead and another to the lead astern. I thought it might be possible to weave the ship through one of these leads towards open water but we could see no water through the thick snow and before steam was raised and while the view was still obscured again the northeley gale had given place to light westerly breezes on the sixth. The pack seemed to be more solid than ever. It stretched almost unbroken to the horizon in every direction and the situation was made worse by very low temperatures in succeeding days. The temperature was down to zero on the night of the seventh and was two degrees below zero on the eighth. This cold spell in mid-summer was most unfortunate from our point of view since it cemented the pack and tightened the grip of the ice upon the ship. The slow drift to the south-west continued and we caught occasional glimpses of distant uplands on the eastern horizon. The position on the seventh was latitude 76 degrees 57 minutes south longitude 35 degrees 7 minutes west. Soundings on the sixth and eighth found glacial mud at 630 and 529 fathoms. The endurance was lying in a pool covered by young ice on the ninth. The solid flows had loosened the grip on the ship itself but they were packed tightly all around. The weather was foggy. We felt a slight northeley swell coming through the pack and the movement gave rise to hope that there was open water near to us. At eleven a.m. a long crack developed in the pack running east and west as far as we could see through the fog and I ordered steam to be raised in the hope of being able to break away into this lead. The effort failed. We could break the young ice in the pool but the pack defied us. The attempt was renewed on the eleventh a fine clear day with blue sky. The temperature was still low as Fahrenheit at midnight. After breaking through some young ice the endurance became jammed against soft flow. The engines running full speed of stern produced no effect until all hands joined in sallying ship. The dog kennels amid ship made it necessary for the people to gather aft where they rushed from side to side in a mass in the confined space around the wheel. This was a ludicrous affair the men falling over one another amid shouts of laughter without producing much effect on the ship. She remained fast while all hands jumped at the word of command but finally slid off when the men were stamping hard at the double. We were now in a position to take advantage of any opening that might appear. The ice was firm around us and as there seemed small chance of making a move that day the crawler and warper put out on the flow for a trial run. The motor worked most successfully running at about six miles an hour over slabs and ridges of ice hidden by a foot or two of soft snow. The surface was worse than we would expect to face on land or barrier ice. The motor warped itself back on a five hundred fathoms steel wire and was taking aboard again. From the masthead the homage is continually giving us false alarms. Everything wears an aspect of unreality. Icebergs hang upside down in the sky. The land appears as layers of silvery or golden cloud. Cloud banks look like land. Icebergs masquerade as islands or nanotags and the distant barrier to the south is thrown into view although it is really outside our range of vision. Worst of all is the deceptive appearance of open water, caused by the refraction of distant water or by the sun shining at an angle on the field of smooth snow or the face of ice cliffs below the horizon. The second half of February produced no important change in our situation. Early in the morning of the fourteenth I ordered a good head of steam on the engines and sent all hands onto the flow with ice chisels, prickers, saws, and picks. We worked all day and threw out most of the next day in a strenuous effort to get the ship into the lead ahead. The man cut away the young ice before the boughs and pulled it aside with great energy. After twenty-four hours' labor we had got the ship a third of the way to the lead. But about four hundred yards of heavy ice including old rafted pack still separated the endurance from the water. Hand reluctantly I had to admit that further effort was useless. Every opening we made froze up again quickly owing to the unseasonably low temperature. The young ice was elastic and prevented the ship delivering a strong splitting blow to the flow while at the same time it held the older ice against any movement. The abandonment of the attack was a great disappointment to all hands. We had worked long hours without thought of rest and they deserved success. But the task was beyond our powers I had not abandoned hope of getting clear but was counting now on the possibility of having to spend a winter in the inhospitable arms of the pack. The sun which had been above the horizon for two months set at midnight on the seventeenth and although it would not disappear until April its slanting rays warned us of the approach of winter. Pools and leads appeared occasionally but they froze over very quickly. We continued to accumulate a supply of seal meat and blubber and the excursions across the flows to shoot and bring in the seals provided welcome exercise for all hands. Three crab-eater cows shot on the twenty-first were not accompanied by a bull and blood was to be seen about the hole from which they had crawled. We surmised that the bull had become the prey of one of the killer whales. These aggressive creatures were to be seen often in the lanes and pools and we were always distrustful of their ability or willingness to discriminate between seal and man. A lizard-like head would show while the killer gazed along the flow with wicked eyes. Then the brute would dive to come up a few moments later perhaps under some unfortunate seal reposing on the ice. Worsley examined a spot where a killer had smashed a hole eight feet by twelve feet and twelve-and-a-half inches of hard ice covered by two-and-a-half inches of snow. Big blocks of ice had been tossed onto the flow surface. Wordy engaged in measuring the thickness of young ice went through to his waist one day just as a killer rose to blow in the adjacent lead. His companions pulled him out hurriedly. On the twenty-second the endurance reached the furthest south point of her drift touching the seventy-seventh parallel of latitude in longitude thirty-five degrees west. The summer had gone. Indeed, the summer had scarcely been with us at all. The temperatures were low day and night and the pack was freezing solidly around the ship. The thermometer recorded ten degrees below zero Fahrenheit at two a.m. on the twenty-second. Some hours earlier we had watched a wonderful golden mist to the southward where the rays of the declining sun shone through vapor rising from the ice. All normal standards of perspective vanish under such conditions and the low ridges of the pack with mist lying between them gave the illusion of a wilderness and peaks like the Bernese Oberland. I could not doubt now that the endurance was confined for the winter. Gentle breezes from the east, south and south-west did not disturb the hardening flows. The seals were disappearing and the birds were leaving us. The land showed still in fair weather on the distant horizon but it was beyond our reach now and regrets for havens that lay behind us were vain. We must wait for the spring which may bring us better fortune. If I had guessed a month ago that the ice would grip us here I would have established our base at one of the landing places at the Great Glacier. But there seemed no reason to anticipate then that the fates would prove unkind. This calm weather with intense cold in a summer month is surely exceptional. My chief anxiety is the drift. Will the vagrant winds and currents carry the ship during the long winter months that are ahead of us? We will go west, no doubt, but how far? And will it be possible to break out of the pack early in spring and reach Vachal Bay or some other suitable landing place? These are momentous questions for us. On February 24th we ceased to observe the ship routine and the endurance became a winter station. All hands were on duty during the day and slept at night except a watchman who looked after the dogs and watched for any sign of movement in the ice. We cleared a space of ten feet by twenty feet round the rudder and propeller sawing through ice two feet thick and lifting the blocks with the pair of tongs made by the carpenter. Korean used the blocks to make an ice-house for the dog, Sally which had added a litter of pups to the strength of the expedition. Seals appeared occasionally and we killed all that came within a reach. They represented fuel as well as food for men and dogs. Orders were given for the after-hold to be cleared and the stores checked so that we might know exactly how we stood for a siege by an Antarctic winter. The dogs went off the ship the following day. Their kennels were placed on the flow along the length of a wire rope to which the leashes were fastened. The dogs seemed heartily glad to leave the ship and yelped loudly and joyously as they were moved to their new quarters. We had begun the training of teams and already there was keen rivalry between the drivers. The flat flows and frozen leads in the neighbourhood of the ship made excellent training grounds. Hockey and football on the flow were our chief recreations and all hands joined in many a strenuous game. Worsley took a party to the flow on the 26th and started building a line of igloos and dogloos around the ship. These little buildings were constructed Eskimo fashion of big blocks of ice within sheets for the roofs. Boards or frozen sealskins were placed over all. Snow was piled up on top and pressed into the joints and water was thrown over the structures to make everything firm. The ice was packed down, flat inside, and covered with snow for the dogs, which preferred, however, to sleep outside except when the weather was extraordinarily severe. The tethering of the dogs was a simple matter. The end of a chain was buried about eight inches in the snow. Some fragments of ice were pressed around it and a little water poured over all. The death of the Antarctic cemented it in a few moments. Four dogs which had been ailing were shot. Some of the dogs were suffering badly from worms. The remedies at our disposal, unfortunately, were not effective. All the fit dogs were being exercised in the sludges and they took to the work with enthusiasm. Sometimes their eagerness to be off and away produced laughable results but the drivers learned to be alert. The wireless apparatus was still rigged but we listened in vain for the Saturday night time signals from New Year Island. Ordered for our benefit by the Argentine government. On Sunday the twenty-eighth Hudson waited at two a.m. for the port Stanley monthly signals but could hear nothing. Evidently the distances were too—