South with Scott
by Baron Edward Ratcliffe Garth Russell Evans Mountevans · English · Gutenberg #18129 · 500,338 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: South with Scott
Author: Baron Edward Ratcliffe Garth Russell Evans Mountevans
Release date: April 7, 2006 [eBook #18129]
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/18129
Credits: E-text prepared by James Tenison
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOUTH WITH SCOTT ***
E-text prepared by James Tenison
Transcriber's note:
Our author had a very "informal" approach to grammar and syntax;
so apparently did his editor. I corrected several obvious errors
in the book and listed them at the end of the text. Many more
doubtful spellings and countless abbreviations remain as they
appear in the text.
I have deleted the symbols for "degree" "minute" and "second"
which appear regularly throughout the text and substituted the
full word. The symbols + and - in relation to temperature are
retained.
SOUTH WITH SCOTT
by
REAR-ADMIRAL EDWARD R. G. R. EVANS
C.B., D.S.O, R.N.
Illustrated with Maps and Photographs
London & Glasgow
Collins' Clear-Type Press
To
Lashly and Crean
THIS BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED
PREFACE
The object of this book is to keep alive the interest of English-speaking
people in the story of Scott and his little band of sailor-adventurers,
scientific explorers, and companions. It is written more particularly for
Britain's younger generations.
I have to acknowledge with gratitude the assistance of Miss Zeala
Wakeford Cox of Shanghai and Pay-master Lieutenant-Commander Bernard
Carter of H.M.S. "Carlisle."
Without their help, I doubt if the book would have found its way into
print.
Edward R.G.R. Evans.
HONG-KONG
February, 27, 1921.
BRITISH ANTARCTIC EXPEDITION, 1910.
PERSONNEL
_Shore Parties._
ROBERT FALCON SCOTT Captain, C.V.O., R.N. (The "Owner," "The Boss").
EDWARD R.G.R. EVANS Lieut. R.N. ("Teddy").
VICTOR L.A. CAMPBELL Lieut. R.N. ("The Wicked Mate")
HENRY R. BOWERS Lieut. Royal Indian Marines ("Birdie").
LAWRENCE E.G. OATES Captain 6th Inniskilling Dragoons ("Titus,"
"Soldier").
G. MURRAY LEVICK Surgeon R.N.
EDWARD L. ATKINSON Surgeon R.N., Parasitologist ("Atch").
_Scientific Staff._
EDWARD ADRIAN WILSON B.A., M.B. (Cantab.), Chief of the Scientific
Staff, and Zoologist ("Uncle Bill").
GEORGE C. SIMPSON D.Sc., Meteorologist ("Sunny Jim.")
T. GRIFFITH TAYLOR B.A., B.Sc., B.E., Geologist ("Griff").
EDWARD W. NELSON Biologist ("Marie").
FRANK DEBENHAM B.A., B.Sc., Geologist ("Deb.")
CHARLES S. WRIGHT B.A., Physicist.
RAYMOND E. PRIESTLEY Geologist.
HERBERT G. PONTING F.R.G.S., Camera Artist.
CECIL H. MEARES In charge of dogs.
BERNARD C. DAY Motor Engineer.
APSLEY CHERRY-GARRARD B.A., Asst. Zoologist ("Cherry").
TRYGGVE GRAN Sub.-Lieut. Norwegian N.R., B.A., Ski Expert.
_Men._
W. LASHLY C. Stoker, R.N.
W.W. ARCHER Chief Steward, late R.N.
THOMAS CLISSOLD Cook, late R.N.
EDGAR EVANS Petty Officer, R.N.
ROBERT FORDE Petty Officer, R.N.
THOMAS CREAN Petty Officer, R.N.
THOMAS S. WILLIAMSON Petty Officer, R.N.
PATRICK KEOHANE Petty Officer, R.N.
GEORGE P. ABBOTT Petty Officer, R.N.
FRANK V. BROWNING Petty Officer, 2nd Class, R.N.
HARRY DICKASON Able Seaman, R.N.
F.J. HOOPER Steward, late R.N.
ANTON OMELCHENKO Groom.
DIMITRI GEROF Dog Driver.
_Ship's Party._
HARRY L. L. PENNELL Lieutenant, R.N.
HENRY E. DE P. RENNICK Lieutenant. R.N.
WILFRED M. BRUCE Lieutenant, R.N.R.
FRANCIS R. H. DRAKE Assistant Paymaster, R.N.(Retired), Secretary and
Meteorologist in ship.
DENNIS G. LILLIE M.A., Biologist in ship.
JAMES R. DENNISTOUN In charge of Mules in ship.
ALFRED B. CHEETHAM R.N.R., Boatswain.
WILLIAM WILLIAMS Chief Engine Room Artificer, R.N., Engineer.
WILLIAM A. HORTON Engine Room Artificer, 3rd Class, R.N., 2nd
Engineer
FRANCIS E. C. DAVIES Leading Shipwright, R.N.
FREDERICK PARSONS Petty Officer, R.N.
WILLIAM L. HEALD Late Petty Officer, R. N.
ARTHUR S. BAILEY Petty Officer, 2nd Class, R.N.
ALBERT BALSON Leading Seaman, R.N.
JOSEPH LEESE Able Seaman, R.N.
JOHN HUGH MATHER Petty Officer, R.N.V.R.
ROBERT OLIPHANT Able Seaman.
THOMAS F. MCLEOD Able Seaman.
MORTIMER MCCARTHY Able Seaman.
WILLIAM KNOWLES Able Seaman.
CHARLES WILLIAMS Able Seaman.
JAMES SKELTON Able Seaman.
WILLIAM MCDONALD Able Seaman.
JAMES PATON Able Seaman.
ROBERT BRISSENDEN Leading Stoker, R.N.
EDWARD A. MCKENZIE Leading Stoker, R.N.
WILLIAM BURTON Leading Stoker, R.N.
BERNARD J. STONE Leading Stoker, R.N.
AGUS MCDONALD Fireman.
THOMAS MCGILLON Fireman.
CHARLES LAMMAS Fireman.
W.H. NEALE Steward.
CONTENTS
I. SOUTH POLAR EXPEDITION--OUTFIT AND AIMS
II. VOYAGE OF THE "TERRA NOVA"
III. ASSEMBLING OF UNITS--DEPARTURE FROM NEW ZEALAND
IV. THROUGH STORMY SEAS
V. ANTARCTICA--THROUGH THE PACK ICE TO LAND
VI. SETTLING DOWN TO THE POLAR LIFE
VII. ARRANGEMENTS FOR THE WINTER
VIII. THE WINTER CLOSES IN
IX. PRELIMINARY EXPLORATIONS
X. SPRING DEPOT JOURNEY
XI. PREPARATIONS AND PLANS FOR THE SUMMER SEASON
XII. SOUTHERN JOURNEY--MOTOR SLEDGES ADVANCE
XIII. THE BARRIER STAGE
XIV. ON THE BEARDMORE GLACIER AND BEYOND
XV. RETURN OF THE LAST SUPPORTING PARTY
XVI. THE POLE ATTAINED--SCOTT'S LAST MARCHES
XVII. THE SECOND WINTER--FINDING OF THE POLAR PARTY
XVIII. ADVENTURES OF THE NORTHERN PARTY
XIX. NARRATIVE OF THE "TERRA NOVA"
CHAPTER I
SOUTH POLAR EXPEDITION--OUTFIT AND AIMS
It is nine years since the last supporting party bid farewell to Captain
Scott and his four brave companions, whose names are still fresh in the
memory of those who were interested in Captain Scott's last Polar
Expedition. The Great War has come and gone and the majority of us wish
to forget it, but the story of Scott undoubtedly appeals still to a great
number of people. It is a good story, and my only hope is that I can
retell it well enough to make my volume worth while reading after so much
has already been published concerning the work of the British Antarctic
Expedition of 1910.
The main object of our expedition was to reach the South Pole and secure
for the British nation the honour of that achievement, but the attainment
of the Pole was far from being the only object in view, for Scott
intended to extend his former discoveries and bring back a rich harvest
of scientific results. Certainly no expedition ever left our shores with
a more ambitious scientific programme, nor was any enterprise of this
description ever undertaken by a more enthusiastic and determined
personnel. We should never have collected our expeditionary funds merely
from the scientific point of view; in fact, many of our largest
supporters cared not one iota for science, but the idea of the Polar
adventure captured their interest. On the other hand, a number of our
supporters affected a contempt for the Polar dash and only interested
themselves in the question of advanced scientific study in the Antarctic.
As the expedition progressed, however, the most unenthusiastic member of
the company developed the serious taste, and in no case did we ever hear
from the scientific staff complaints that the Naval members failed to
help them in their work with a zeal that was quite unexpected. This
applies more particularly to the seamen and stokers.
Captain Scott originally intended to make his winter quarters in King
Edward VII. Land, but altered the arrangement after the fullest
discussion with his scientific friends and advisers, and planned that a
small party of six should examine this part of the Antarctic and follow
the coast southward from its junction with the Great Ice Barrier,
penetrating as far south as they were able, surveying geographically and
geologically. This part of the programme was never carried out, owing to
the ice conditions thereabouts preventing a landing either on the Barrier
or in King Edward VII. Land itself.
The main western party Scott planned to command himself, the base to be
at Cape Crozier or in McMurdo Sound, near the site of the "Discovery's"
old winter quarters at Cape Armitage, the exact position to be governed
by the ice conditions on arrival.
Dogs, ponies, motor sledges and man-hauling parties on ski were to
perform the Polar journey by a system of relays or supporting parties.
Scott's old comrade, Dr. E.A. Wilson of Cheltenham, was selected as chief
of the scientific staff and to act as artist to the expedition. Three
geologists were chosen and two biologists, to continue the study of
marine fauna and carry out research work in depths up to 500 fathoms. The
expeditionary ship was to be fitted for taking deep-sea soundings and
magnetic observations, and the meteorological programme included the
exploration of the upper air currents and the investigation of the
electrical conditions of the atmosphere. We were fortunate in securing as
meteorologist the eminent physicist, Dr. G. Simpson, who is now head of
the Meteorological Office in London. Dr. Simpson was to have charge of
the self-recording magnetic instruments ashore at the main base.
Study of ice structure and glaciation was undertaken by Mr. C.S. Wright,
who was also assistant physicist. The magnetic work of the ship was
entrusted to Lieut. Harry Pennell, R.N., an officer of more than ordinary
scientific attainments and a distinguished navigator. Lieut. Henry
Rennick was given control of the hydrographical survey work and deep-sea
sounding. Two surgeons were lent by the Royal Navy for the study of
bacteriology and parasitology in addition to their medical duties, and
Mr. Herbert G. Ponting was chosen as camera artist and cinematographer to
the Expedition.
To my mind the outfit and preparations were the hardest part of our work,
for we were not assure of funds until the day of our departure. This did
not lighten Scott's burden. The plans of the British Antarctic Expedition
of 1910 were first published on September 13, 1909, but although Scott's
appeal to the nation was heartily endorsed by the Press, it was not until
the spring of 1910 that we had collected the first 10,000 pounds.
Personally, I was despatched to South Wales and the west of England to
raise funds from my Welsh and west country friends. Scott, himself, when
he could be spared from the Admiralty, worked Newcastle, Liverpool, and
the North, whilst both of us did what we could in London to obtain the
money necessary to purchase and equip the ship. It was an anxious time
for Scott and his supporters, but after the first 10,000 pounds had been
raised the Government grant of 20,000 pounds followed and the Expedition
came properly into being. Several individuals subscribed 1000 pounds
each, and Government grants were subsequently made by the Australian
Commonwealth, the Dominion of New Zealand and South Africa. Capt. L.E.G.
Oates and Mr. Apsley Cherry-Garrard were included in the donors of 1000
pounds, but they gave more than this, for these gallant gentlemen gave
their services and one of them his life. An unexpected and extremely
welcome contribution came from Mr. Samuel Hordern of Sydney in the shape
of 2500 pounds, at a time when we needed it most. Many firms gave in cash
as well as in kind. Indeed, were it not for the generosity of such firms
it is doubtful whether we could have started. The services of Paymaster
Lieut. Drake, R.N., were obtained as secretary to the Expedition. Offices
were taken and furnished in Victoria Street, S.W., and Sir Edgar Speyer
kindly consented to act as Honorary Treasurer--without hesitation I may
say we owe more to Sir Edgar than ever we can repay.
We were somewhat limited in our choice of a ship, suitable for the work
contemplated. The best vessel of all was of course the "Discovery," which
had been specially constructed for the National Antarctic Expedition in
1900, but she had been acquired by the Hudson Bay Company, and although
the late Lord Strathcona, then High Commissioner for Canada, was
approached, he could not see his way to obtaining her for us in view of
her important employment as supply ship for the Hudson Bay Trading
Stations. There remained the "Aurora," "Morning," "Bjorn," "Terra Nova,"
Shackleton's stout little "Nimrod," and one or two other old whaling
craft. The "Bjorn," a beautiful wooden whaler, would have served our
purpose excellently, but, alas! she was too small for the enterprise and
we had to fall back on the "Terra Nova," an older ship but a much larger
craft. The "Terra Nova" had one great defect--she was not economic in the
matter of coal consumption. She was the largest and strongest of the old
Scotch whalers, had proved herself in the Antarctic pack-ice and
acquitted herself magnificently in the Northern ice-fields in whaling and
sealing voyages extending over a period of twenty years. In spite of her
age she had considerable power for a vessel of that type.
After a preliminary survey in Newfoundland, which satisfied us as to her
seaworthiness in all respects, the "Terra Nova" was purchased for the
Expedition by Messrs. David Bruce & Sons for the sum of 12,500 pounds. It
seems a high price, but this meant nothing more than her being chartered
to us for 2000 pounds a year, since her owners were ready to pay a good
price for the ship if we returned her in reasonably good condition at the
conclusion of the Expedition.
Captain Scott handed her over to me to fit out, whilst he busied himself
more with the scientific programme and the question of finance. We had
her barque-rigged and altered according to the requirements of the
expedition. A large, well-insulated ice-house was erected on the upper
deck which held 150 cascases of frozen mutton, and, owing to the position
of the cold chamber, free as it was from the vicinity of iron, we mounted
here our standard compass and Lloyd Creek pedestal for magnetic work. Our
range-finder was also mounted on the ice-house. A new stove was put in
the galley, a lamp room and paraffin store built, and store-rooms,
instrument, and chronometer rooms were added. A tremendous alteration was
made in the living spaces both for officers and men. Twenty-four bunks
were fitted around the saloon accommodation, whilst for the seamen and
warrant officers hammock space or bunks were provided. It was proposed to
take six warrant officers, including carpenter, ice-master, boatswain,
and chief steward. Quite good laboratories were constructed on the poop,
while two large magazines and a clothing-store were built up between
decks, and these particular spaces were zinc-lined to keep them
damp-free. The ship required alteration rather than repair, and there
were only one or two places where timber had rotted and these were soon
found and reinforced.
I shall never forget the day I first visited the "Terra Nova" in the West
India Docks: she looked so small and out of place surrounded by great
liners and cargo-carrying ships, but I loved her from the day I saw her,
because she was my first command. Poor little ship, she looked so dirty
and uncared for and yet her name will be remembered for ever in the story
of the sea, which one can hardly say in the case of the stately liners
which dwarfed her in the docks. I often blushed when admirals came down
to see our ship, she was so very dirty. To begin with, her hold contained
large blubber tanks, the stench of whale oil and seal blubber being
overpowering, and the remarks of those who insisted on going all over the
ship need not be here set down. However, the blubber tanks were
withdrawn, the hold spaces got the thorough cleansing and whitewashing
that they so badly needed. The bilges were washed out, the ship
disinfected fore and aft, and a gang of men employed for some time to
sweeten her up. Then came the fitting out, which was much more pleasant
work.
Scott originally intended to leave England with most of the members of
the Expedition on August 1, 1910, but he realised that an early start
from New Zealand would mean a better chance for the big depot-laying
journey he had planned to undertake before the first Antarctic winter set
in. Accordingly the sailing date was anticipated, thanks to the united
efforts of all concerned with the fitting out, and we made June 1 our day
of departure, which meant a good deal of overtime everywhere.
The ship had to be provisioned and stored for her long voyage, having in
view the fact that there were no ship-chandlers in the Polar regions, but
those of us who had "sailed the way before" had a slight inkling that we
might meet more ships, and _others_ who would lend us a helping hand in
the matter of Naval stores.
Captain Scott allowed me a sum with which to equip the "Terra Nova"; it
seemed little enough to me but it made quite a hole in our funds. There
were boatswain's stores to be purchased, wire hawsers, canvas for
sail-making, fireworks for signalling, whale boats and whaling gear,
flags, logs, paint, tar, carpenter's stores, blacksmith's outfit,
lubricating oils, engineer's stores, and a multitude of necessities to be
thought of, selected, and not paid for if we could help it. The verb "to
wangle" had not then appeared in the English language, so we just
"obtained."
The expedition had many friends, and it was not unusual to find Petty
Officers and men from the R.N.V.R. working on board and helping us on
Saturday afternoons and occasionally even on Sundays. They gave their
services for nothing, and the only way in which we could repay them was
to select two chief Petty Officers from their number, disrate them, and
take them Poleward as ordinary seamen.
It was not until the spring of 1910 that we could afford to engage any
officers or men for the ship, so that most of the work of rigging her was
done by dock-side workers under a good old master rigger named Malley.
Landsmen would have stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed at Malley's men
with their diminutive dolly-winch had they watched our new masts and
yards being got into place.
Six weeks before sailing day Lieut. Campbell took over the duties of
Chief Officer in the "Terra Nova," Pennell and Rennick also joined, and
Lieut. Bowers came home from the Indian Marine to begin his duties as
Stores Officer by falling down the main hatch on to the pig iron ballast.
I did not witness this accident, and when Campbell reported the matter I
am reported to have said, "What a silly ass!" This may have been true,
for coming all the way from Bombay to join us and then immediately
falling down the hatch did seem a bit careless. However, when Campbell
added that Bowers had not hurt himself my enthusiasm returned and I said,
"What a splendid fellow!" Bowers fell nineteen feet without injuring
himself in the slightest. This was only one of his narrow escapes and he
proved himself to be about the toughest man amongst us.
Quite a lot could be written of the volunteers for service with Scott in
this his last Antarctic venture. There were nearly 8000 of them to select
from, and many eligible men were turned down simply because they were
frozen out by those who had previous Antarctic experience. We tried to
select fairly, and certainly picked a representative crowd. It was not an
all-British Expedition because we included amongst us a young Norwegian
ski-runner and two Russians; a dog driver and a groom. The Norwegian has
since distinguished himself in the Royal Air Force--he was severely
wounded in the war whilst fighting for the British and their Allies, but
his pluck and Anglophile sentiments cost him his commission in the
Norwegian Flying Corps.
Dr. Wilson assisted Captain Scott in selecting the scientific staff,
while the choice of the officers and crew was mainly left to myself as
Commander-elect of the "Terra Nova."
Most Polar expeditions sail under the Burgee of some yacht club or other:
We were ambitious to fly the White Ensign, and to enable this to be done
the Royal Yacht Squadron adopted us. Scott was elected a member, and it
cost him 100 pounds, which the Expedition could ill afford. However, with
the "Terra Nova" registered as a yacht we were able to evade those Board
of Trade officials who declared that she was not a well-found merchant
ship within the meaning of the Act. Having avoided the scrutiny of the
efficient and official, we painted out our Plimsoll mark with tongue in
cheek and eyelid drooped, and, this done, took our stores aboard and
packed them pretty tight. The Crown Preserve Co. sent us a quantity of
patent fuel which stowed beautifully as a flooring to the lower hold, and
all our provision cases were thus kept well up out of the bilge water
which was bound to scend to and fro if we made any quantity of water, as
old wooden ships usually do. The day before sailing the Royal
Geographical Society entertained Scott and his party at luncheon in the
King's Hall, Holborn Restaurant. About 300 Fellows of the Society were
present to do us honour. The President, Major Leonard Darwin, proposed
success to the Expedition, and in the course of his speech wished us
God-speed. He congratulated Captain Scott on having such a well-found
expedition and, apart from dwelling on the scientific and geographical
side of the venture, the President said that Captain Scott was going to
prove once again that the manhood of our nation was not dead and that the
characteristics of our ancestors who won our great Empire still
flourished amongst us.
After our leader had replied to this speech Sir Clements Markham, father
of modern British exploration, proposed the toast of the officers and
staff in the most touching terms. Poor Sir Clements is no more, but it
was he who first selected Captain Scott for Polar work, and he, indeed,
who was responsible for many others than those present at lunch joining
Antarctic expeditions, myself included.
CHAPTER II
VOYAGE OF THE "TERRA NOVA"
Sailing day came at last, and on June 1, 1910, when I proudly showed
Scott his ship, he very kindly ordered the hands aft and thanked them for
what they had done.
The yards were square, the hatches on with spick-and-span white hatch
covers, a broad white ribbon brightened the black side, and gold leaf
bedizened the quarter badges besides gilding the rope scroll on the
stern. The ship had been well painted up, a neat harbour furl put on the
sails, and if the steamers and lofty sailing vessels in the basin could
have spoken, their message would surely have been, "Well done, little
'un."
What a change from the smudgy little lamp-black craft of last
November--so much for paint and polish. All the same it was the "Terra
Nova's" Indian summer. A close search by the technically expert would
have revealed scars of age in the little lady, furrows worn in her sides
by grinding ice floes, patches in the sails, strengthening pieces in the
cross-trees and sad-looking deadeyes and lanyards which plainly told of a
bygone age.
But the merchant seamen who watched from the dock side were kind and said
nothing. The old admirals who had come down to visit the ship were used
to these things, or perhaps they did not twig it. After all, what did it
matter, it was sailing day, we were all as proud as peacocks of our
little ship, and from that day forward we pulled together and played the
game, or tried to.
Lady Bridgeman, wife of the first Sea Lord, and Lady Markham hoisted the
White Ensign and the Burgee of the Royal Yacht Squadron an hour or so
before sailing. At 4.45 p.m. the visitors were warned off the ship, and a
quarter of an hour later we slipped from our wharf in the South-West
India Docks and proceeded into the river and thence to Greenhithe, where
we anchored off my old training ship, the "Worcester," and gave the
cadets a chance to look over the ship. On the 3rd June we arrived at
Spithead, where we were boarded by Captain Chetwynd, Superintendent of
Compasses at the Admiralty, who swung the ship and adjusted our
compasses. Captain Scott joined us on the 4th and paid a visit with his
"yacht" to the R.Y.S. at Cows. On the 6th we completed a series of
magnetic observations in the Solent, after which many officers were
entertained by Captain Mark Kerr in the ill-fated "Invincible." We were
royally looked after, but I am ashamed to say we cleared most of his
canvas and boatswain's stores out of the ship. Perhaps a new 3 1/2-inch
hawser found its way to the "Terra Nova"; anyway, if the "Invincible's"
stores came on board the exploring vessel she made good use of them and
saved them their Jutland fate. We left the Solent in high feather on the
following day.
The "Sea Horse" took us in tow to the Needles, from whence H.M.S.
"Cumberland," Cadets' Training Ship; towed us to Weymouth Bay. This was
poor Scott's last Naval review. He had landed at Portsmouth and busied
himself with the Expedition's affairs and rejoined us at Weymouth in time
to steam through the Home Fleet assembled in Portland Harbour. We steamed
out of the 'hole in the wall' at the western end of Portland Breakwater
and rounded Portland Bill at sunset on our way to Cardiff, where we were
to be received by my own Welsh friends and endowed with all good things.
We were welcomed by the citizens of the great Welsh seaport with
enthusiasm. Free docking, free coal, defects made good for nothing, an
office and staff placed at our disposal, in fact everything was done with
an open-hearted generosity. We took another 300 tons of patent fuel on
board and nearly 100 tons of Insole's best Welsh steaming coal, together
with the bulk of our lubricating oils. When complete with fuel we met
with our first setback, for the little ship settled deeply in the water
and the seams, which had up till now been well above the water-line,
leaked in a way that augured a gloomy future for the crew in the nature
of pumping. With steam up this did not mean anything much, but under sail
alone, unless we could locate the leaky seams, it meant half an hour to
an hour's pumping every watch. We found a very leaky spot in the fore
peak, which was mostly made good by cementing.
On the 15th June we left the United Kingdom after a rattling good time in
Cardiff. Many shore boats and small craft accompanied us down the Bristol
Channel as far as Breaksea Light Vessel. We hoisted the Cardiff flag at
the fore and the Welsh flag at the mizen--some wag pointed to the flag
and asked why we had not a leek under it, and I felt bound to reply that
we had a leak in the fore peak! It was a wonderful send-off and we
cheered ourselves hoarse. Captain Scott left with our most intimate
friends in the pilot boat and we proceeded a little sadly on our way.
After passing Lundy Island we experienced a head wind and the gentle
summer swell of the Atlantic. In spite of her deeply-laden condition the
"Terra Nova" breasted each wave in splendid form, lifting her toy
bowsprit proudly in the air till she reminded me, with her deck cargo, of
a little mother with her child upon her back.
Our first port of call was Madeira, where it was proposed to bunker, and
we made good passage to the island under steam and sail for the most
part. We stayed a couple of days coaling and taking magnetic observations
at Funchal, then ran out to the north-east Trades, let fires out, and
became a sailing ship.
Whilst lazily gazing at fertile Madeira from our anchorage we little
dreamt that within two months the distinguished Norseman, Roald Amundsen,
would be unfolding his plans to his companions on board the "Fram" in
this very anchorage, plans which changed the whole published object of
his expedition, plans which culminated in the triumph of the Norwegian
flag over our own little Union Jack, and plans which caused our people a
fearful disappointment--for Amundsen's ultimate success meant our failure
to achieve the main object of our Expedition: to plant the British Flag
first at the South Pole.
Under sail! Quite a number of the scientists and crew had never been to
sea in a sailing ship before, but a fair wind and a collection of keen
and smiling young men moving about the decks were particularly refreshing
to me after the year of fund collecting and preparation.
We learnt to know a great deal about one another on the outward voyage to
New Zealand, where we were to embark our dogs and ponies. The most
surprising personality was Bowers, considering all things.
Officers, scientists, and the watch worked side by side trimming coals
and restoring the 'tween decks as cases were shaken and equipment
assembled. The scientific staff were soon efficient at handling, reefing,
and steering. Every one lent a hand at whatever work was going. Victor
Campbell was christened the "Wicked Mate," and he shepherded and fathered
the afterguard delightfully.
Wilson and I shared the Captain's cabin, and when there was nothing afoot
he made lovely sea sketches and water colour drawings to keep his hand
in. Certainly Uncle Bill (Dr. Wilson's nickname) had copy enough in those
days of sunlit seas and glorious sunrises. He was up always an hour
before the sun and missed very little that was worth recording with his
artistic touch. Wilson took Cherry-Garrard under his wing and brought him
up as it were in the shadow of his own unselfish character. We had no
adventures to record until the last week in July beyond the catching of
flying-fish, singing chanties at the pump, and Lillie getting measles. We
isolated him in the dark room, which, despite its name, was one of the
lightest and freshest rooms in the ship. Atkinson took charge of the
patient and Lillie could not have been in the hands of a better or more
cheery medico.
Not all of the members of the Expedition had embarked in England,
although the majority came out in the ship to save expense.
Captain Scott had remained behind to squeeze out more subscriptions and
to complete arrangements with the Central News, which he was making in
order to give the world's newspapers the story of the Expedition for
simultaneous publication as reports came back to civilisation in the
"Terra Nova." He also had finally to settle magazine and cinematograph
contracts which were to help pay for the Expedition, and lastly, our
leader, with Drake and Wyatt, the business manager, were to pay bills we
had incurred by countless items of equipment, large and small, which went
to fill up our lengthy stores lists. Thankless work enough--we in the
ship were much better off with no cares now beyond the handling of our
toy ship and her safe conduct to Lyttelton. Cecil Meares and Lieut. Bruce
were on their way through Siberia collecting dogs and ponies. Ponting was
purchasing the photographic and cinematographic outfit, Griffith Taylor,
Debenham, and Priestley, our three geologists, and Day, the motor
engineer, were to join us in New Zealand, and Captain Scott with Drake at
Capetown.
In order to get another series of magnetic observations and to give the
staff relief from the monotony of the voyage as well as an opportunity
for doing a little special work, we stopped at the uninhabited island of
South Trinidad for a couple of days, arriving on July 26.
Trinidad Island looked magnificent with its towering peaks as we
approached it by moonlight. We dropped anchor shortly after dawn, the
ship was handed over to the Wicked Mate and Boatswain, who set up the
rigging and delighted themselves with a seamanlike refit. Campbell had a
party over the side scrubbing the weeds off, and many of the ship's
company attempted to harpoon the small sharks which came close round in
shoals and provided considerable amusement. These fish were too small to
be dangerous. After breakfast all the scientists and most of the officers
landed and were organised by Uncle Bill into small parties to collect
birds' eggs, flowers, specimens, to photograph and to sketch. A good
lunch was taken ashore, and we looked more like a gunroom picnic party
than a scientific expedition when we left the ship in flannels and all
manner of weird costumes. Wilson, Pennell, and Cherry-Garrard shot a
number of birds, mostly terns and gannets, and climbed practically to the
top of the island, where they could see the Martin Vaz islets on the
horizon. Wilson secured some Trinidad petrels, both white breasted and
black breasted, and discovered that the former is the young bird and the
latter the adult of the same species. He found them in the same nests. We
collected many terns' eggs; the tern has no nest but lays its eggs on a
smooth rock. Also one or two frigate birds were caught. Nelson worked
along the beach, finding sea-urchins, anemones, and worms, which he
taught the sailors the names of--polycheats and sepunculids, I think he
called them. He caught various fishes, including sea-perches, garfish,
coralfish, and an eel, a small octopus and a quantity of sponges.
Trigger-fish were so abundant that many of them were speared from the
ship with the greatest of ease, and Rennick harpooned a couple from a
boat with an ordinary dinner fork. Lillie, who had recovered from
measles, was all about, and his party went for flowering plants and
lichens. He climbed to the summit of the island--2000 ft.--and gave it as
his opinion that the dead trees strewn all round the base of the island
had been carried down with the volcanic debris from higher altitudes. It
was also his suggestion that the island had only recently risen, the
trees which originally grew on the top of the island having died from
unsuitable climate in the higher condition. Gran went up with Lillie and
took photographs. "Birdie" Bowers and Wright were employed collecting
insects, and, with those added by the rest of us, the day's collection
included all kinds of ants, cockroaches, grasshoppers, mayflies, a
centipede, fifteen different species of spider, locusts, a cricket,
woodlice, a parasite fly, a beetle, and a moth. We failed to get any of
the dragonflies seen, and, to the great sorrow of the crews who landed
with us, missed capturing a most beautiful chestnut-coloured mouse with a
fur tail. Land crabs, a dirty yellow in colour, were found everywhere,
the farther one went inland the bigger were the crabs. The blue shore
crabs were only to be seen near the sea or along the coast and water
courses. Several of these were brought off to the ship for Dr. Atkinson
to play with, and he found nematodes in them, and parasites in the birds
and fish.
During the afternoon a swell began to roll in the bay and those on board
the ship hoisted the warning signal and fired a sound rocket to recall
the scattered parties. By 4.30 we had reassembled on the rocks where we
had landed in the forenoon, but the rollers being fifteen feet high, it
was obviously unwise to send off cameras and perishable gear, and since
it was equally inadvisable to leave the whole party ashore without food
and sufficient clothing and the prospect of an inhospitable island home
for days, we all swam off one by one, the boat's crew working a grassline
bent to a lifebuoy. The boat to which we swam was riding to a big anchor
a hundred feet from the shore, just outside the surf. There were a few
sharks round the whaler, but they were shy and left us alone. Rennick
worked round the boat in a small Norwegian pram and scared them away.
Many trigger fish swallowed the thick vegetable oil which the boat's crew
ladled into the sea to keep the surf down, and I think this probably
attracted the sharks, though it was not very nice to swim through. None
of us were any the worse for our romp ashore, but the long day and the
hot sun tired us all out. Nearly all the afterguard slept on the upper
deck that night, and, but for the dismal roar of the swell breaking on
the rocks and the heavy rolling of the "Terra Nova," we spent quite a
comfortable night. Dr. Atkinson and Brewster had been left ashore with
the gear, but they got no sleep because all night the terns flew round
crying and protesting against their intrusion. The wail of these birds
sounds like the deep note of a banjo. The two men mostly feared the land
crabs, but to their surprise they were left in peace.
Next day about 9 a.m. I went in with Rennick, Bowers, Oates, Gran, and
two seamen to the landing place, taking a whaler and pram equipped with
grass hawser, breeches buoy, rocket line, and everything necessary to
bring off the gear. We had a rough time getting the stuff away undamaged
by the sea, but the pram was a wonderful sea-boat and we took it in turns
to work her through the surf until everything was away.
At the last, when nearly everything had been salved and got to the
whaler, the collections in tin boxes, wooden cases and baskets, and the
two men, Atkinson and Brewster, were on board, a large wave threw the
pram right up on the rocks, capsizing her and damaging her badly. Her two
occupants jumped out just before a second wave swept the boat over and
over. Then a third huge roller came up and washed the pram out to sea,
where she was recovered by means of a grapnel thrown from the whaler. The
two on the rocks had to face the surf again but were good swimmers, and
with their recovery our little adventure ended. It was a pity we had bad
weather, because I intended to give the crew a run on the island when
Campbell had finished with them.
We remained another day under the lee of Trinidad Island owing to a hard
blow from the south-east--a dead head wind for us--because I felt it
would be useless to put to sea and punch into it. We were anchored one
mile S. 4 degrees E (magnetic) from the Ninepin Rock, well sheltered from
the prevailing wind. We left Trinidad at noon on the 28th, well prepared
for the bad weather expected on approaching the Cape of Good Hope.
Whilst clearing the land we had an excellent view of South West Bay and
saw a fine lot of rollers breaking on the beach. I was glad we kept there
that day, as, in my opinion, our anchorage was really the only fair one
off the island. By noon on the 29th we had left South Trinidad out of
sight, the wind had freshened again and we could almost lay our course
under sail for the Cape. This next stage of the voyage was merely a story
of hard winds and heavy rolls. The ship leaked less as she used up the
coal and patent fuel. All the same we spent many hours at the pump, but,
since much of the pumping was done by the afterguard--as were called the
officers and scientists we developed and hardened our muscles finely. In
the daytime the afterguard were never idle; there is always plenty to do
in a sailing ship, and when not attending to their special duties the
scientists were kept working at everything that helped the show along.
Whilst on deck they were strictly disciplined and subordinate and
respectful to the ship's executive officers, while in the wardroom they
fought these same officers in a friendly way for every harsh word and
every job they had had imposed on them.
Campbell was a fine seaman; he was respected and admired by such people
as Oates and Atkinson, who willingly pocketed their pride and allowed
themselves to be hustled round equally with the youngest seaman on board.
The Wicked Mate generally had all the afterguard under the hose before
breakfast, as washing water was scarce and the allowance meagre on such a
protracted voyage.
In the hotter weather we nearly all slept on deck, the space on top of
the ice-house and in the boats being favourite billets. There was no
privacy in the ship and only the officers of watches and lookout men were
ever left with their thoughts. One or two of the younger members
confessed to being home-sick, for the voyage was long and it was not at
all certain that we should all win back to "England, home, and beauty."
Those who were not sailor men soon acquired the habit of the sea, growing
accustomed to meeting fair and foul weather with an equally good face,
rejoicing with us sailor men at a fair wind and full sail and standing by
top-gallant and topsail halyards when the prospects were more leaden
coloured and the barometer falling. We numbered about forty now, which
meant heaps of beef to haul on ropes and plenty of trimmers to shift the
coal from the hold to the bunkers. One or two were always stoking side by
side with the firemen, and in this fashion officers, seamen, and
scientific staff cemented a greater friendship and respect for one
another.
On August 7, after drinking to absent friends, Oates, Atkinson, and Gran,
"the three midshipmen" were confirmed in their rank and a ship's biscuit
broken on the head of each in accordance with gunroom practice, and after
this day, during good and bad weather, these three kept regular watch
with the seamen, going aloft, steering, and taking all the usual duties
in their turn.
From the start Pennell, who was to relieve me in command of the ship on
her arrival at the Antarctic base, showed an astounding knowledge of
birds, and Wilson took the keenest interest in teaching him about
bird-life in the Great Southern ocean and giving him a preliminary idea
of the bird types to be met with in Antarctica.
Reflecting back to these days one sees how well we all knitted into the
places we were to fill, because a long sea-voyage searches out hidden
qualities and defects, not that there were many of the latter, still one
man developed lung trouble and another had a strained heart. One of
these, to our great regret, was forced to leave the expedition before the
ship went south, while the other had to be ruled out of the shore
party--an awful disappointment to them both.
We reached Simon's Town on August 15, and here the Naval authorities gave
us every assistance, lent us working parties and made good our long
defect list. We were disappointed on arriving to find that Captain Scott
was away in Pretoria, but he succeeded in obtaining a grant of 500 pounds
from the South African Government and raised another 500 pounds by
private subscription. When Captain Scott came amongst us again he wrote
of the "Terra Nova" party that we were all very pleased with the ship and
very pleased with ourselves, describing our state of happiness and
overflowing enthusiasm exactly.
Those who could be spared were given leave here; some of us went
up-country for a few days and had a chance to enjoy South African
scenery. Oates, Atkinson, and Bowers went to Wynberg and temporarily
forgot the sea. Oates's one idea was a horse, and he spent his holiday as
much on horse-back as he possibly could. In a letter he expressed great
admiration for the plucky manner in which Atkinson rode to hounds one day
at Wynberg. These two were great friends, but it would be hard to imagine
two more naturally silent men, and one wonders how evident pleasure can
be obtained with a speechless companion.
Scott now changed with Wilson, who went by mail steamer to Australia in
order to organise and finally engage the Australian members of our staff.
Our leader was without doubt delighted to make the longer voyage with us
in the "Terra Nova" and to get away from the hum of commerce and the
small talk of the many people who were pleased to meet him--until the hat
was handed round--that awful fund-collecting.
CHAPTER III
ASSEMBLING OF UNITS--DEPARTURE FROM NEW ZEALAND
The trip from Simon's Town to Melbourne was disappointing on account of
the absence of fair winds. We had a few gales, but finer weather than we
expected, and took advantage of the ship's steadiness to work out the
details for the sledge journeys and depot plans. The lists of those who
were to form the two shore parties were published, together with a
skeleton list for the ship. The seamen had still to be engaged in New
Zealand to complete this party.
A programme was drawn up for work on arrival at winter quarters, a
routine made out for McMurdo Sound or Cape Crozier, if it so happened
that we could effect a landing there, weights were calculated for the
four men sledging-units, sledge tables embellished with equipment
weights, weekly allowances of food and fuel, with measures of quantities
of each article in pannikins or spoonfuls, provisional dates were set
down in the general plan, daily ration lists constructed, the first
season's depot party chosen and, in short, a thoroughly comprehensive
hand-book was made out for our guidance which could be referred to by any
member of the Expedition. Even an interior plan of the huts was made to
scale for the carpenter's edification.
It was an enormous advantage for us to have our leader with us now, his
master mind foresaw every situation so wonderfully as he unravelled plan
after plan and organised our future procedure.
Meantime, the seamen were employed preparing the sledge gear, sewing up
food bags, making canvas tanks and sledge harness, fitting out Alpine
ropes; repair bags, thongs, lampwick bindings, and travelling equipment
generally. Gran overlooked the ski and assigned them to their future
owners, Petty Officer Evans prepared the sewing outfits for the two shore
parties, the cooks assembled messtraps and cooking utensils, and Levick
and Atkinson, under Dr. Wilson's guidance, assembled the medical
equipment and fixed up little surgical outfits for sledge parties. By the
time we arrived at Melbourne, our next port of call, a great deal had
been accomplished and people had a grasp of what was eventually expected
of them.
Scott left us again at Melbourne and embarked on yet another begging
campaign, whilst I took the ship on to Lyttelton, where the "Terra Nova"
was dry-docked with a view to stopping the leak in her bows. The decks,
which after her long voyage let water through sadly, were caulked, and
barnacles six inches long were taken from her bottom and sides. Whilst in
New Zealand all the stores were landed, sorted out and restowed. On a
piece of waste ground close to the wharves at Lyttelton the huts were
erected in skeleton in order to make certain that no hitch would occur
when they were put up at our Antarctic base. Davis, the carpenter, with
the seamen told off to assist him, marked each frame and joist, the
tongued and grooved boards were roughly cut to measure and tied into
bundles ready for sledge transport in case it happened that we could not
put the ship close to the winter quarters. Instruments were adjusted, the
ice-house re-insulated and prepared to receive the 150 frozen sheep and
ten bullocks which were presented to us by New Zealand farmers. Stables
were erected under the forecastle and on the upper deck of the "Terra
Nova," ready for the reception of our ponies, and a thousand and one
alterations and improvements made. The ship was restowed, and all fancy
gear, light sails and personal baggage put ashore. We took on board 464
tons of coal and embarked the three motor sledges, petrol, and paraffin.
We spent four weeks in Port Lyttelton, four weeks of hard work and
perfect happiness. Our prospects looked very rosy in those days, and as
each new member joined the Expedition here he was cordially welcomed into
the "Terra Nova" family.
Mr. J. J. Kinsey acted as agent to the Expedition, as he had done for the
National Antarctic Expedition of 1901-4, and, indeed, for every Polar
enterprise that has used New Zealand for a base.
New Zealanders showed us unbounded hospitality; many of us had visited
their shores before and stronger ties than those of friendship bound us
to this beautiful country.
When we came to Lyttelton, Meares and Bruce had already arrived with
nineteen Siberian and Manchurian ponies and thirty-four sledge dogs, and
these were now housed at Quail Island in the harbour. All the ponies were
white, animals of this colour being accepted as harder than others for
snow work, and the dogs were as fine a pack as one could select for hard
sledging and rough times. Meares had had adventure in plenty when
selecting the dogs and told us modestly enough of his journeys across
Russia and Siberia in search of suitable animals. Scott was lucky to get
hold of such an experienced traveller as Meares, and the "Terra Nova"
gained by the inclusion of Lady Scott's brother, Wilfred Bruce, in the
Expedition. Wilfred Bruce was christened "Mumbo," and, although a little
older than the rest of the officers, he willingly took a subordinate
place, and Pennell, writing of him after the Expedition was finished,
said that he withheld his advice when it was not asked for and gave it
soundly when it was.
Lieut. Bruce joined Meares at Vladivostock, and he must have thought he
was joining a travelling circus when he ran into this outfit. Meares
crossed by Trans-Siberian Railway to Vladivostock, thence made
preparation to travel round the Sea of Okotsk to collect the necessary
dogs. He started off by train to Kharbarovsk, where he got in touch with
the Governor-General of Eastern Siberia, General Unterberger, who helped
him immensely, got him a good travelling sledge for the trip down the
Amur River to Nikolievsk, and wrote a letter which he gave Meares to show
at the post-houses and whenever in difficulties. The Governor-General
ordered frozen food to be got ready for Meares's journey. A thousand
versts (roughly 660 miles) had to be traversed, and this only took seven
days; the going was interesting at times, and Meares had good weather on
the sledge journey to Nikolievsk, although the cold was intense and
sometimes the road was very bad. The sledges were horse-drawn between the
post-houses.
Mr. Rogers, the English manager of the Russo-Chinese Bank of Nikolievsk,
helped Meares considerably in securing the dogs. Most of them were picked
up in the neighbourhood of that place, but were not chosen before they
had been given some hard driving tests. In one of the trial journeys the
dogs pulled down a horse and nearly killed it before they could be beaten
off. Some of them have a good deal of the wolf in their blood.
A settlement of "fish-skin" Indians was visited in the dog search, and
Meares told us of natives who dressed in cured skins of salmons. These
people were expert hunters who trekked weeks on end with just a pack of
food on their backs, their travelling being done on snowshoes.
After taking great pains, thirty-four fine dogs were collected, all used
to hard sledge travelling, and these Meares shipped on board steamer
which took him and his menagerie by river to Kharbarovsk. The journey to
Vladivostock was by train. The Russian officials allowed him to hitch on
a couple of cattle trucks containing the dogs to the mail train for that
part of the journey.
Russian soldiers and Chinamen were detailed by the Governor-General to
assist the procession through the streets of Vladivostock to their
kennels here. A slight upset was caused by a mad dog rushing in amongst
them, but fortunately it was killed before any of our dogs were bitten.
Some of them were flecked by the foam from the mad dog's jaws, but none
were any the worse after a good carbolic bath. After the dogs were
settled and in good shape the ponies were collected and brought from
up-country in batches. On arrival at the Siberian capital they were
examined by the Government vet., after which Meares and an Australian
trainer picked the best, until a score were purchased. Horse boxes were
obtained now and feed tins made for the voyage and, after minor troubles
with shipping firms, Meares, Bruce, and three Russians sailed from
Vladivostock in a Japanese steamer which conveyed them to Kobe. Here they
transhipped into a German vessel that took then via Hong-kong, Manila,
New Guinea, Rockhampton, and Brisbane, to Sydney. There the animals were
inoculated for the N'th time and a good deal of palaver indulged in
before they were again shifted to the Lyttelton steamer. The poor beasts
suffered from the heat, particularly the dogs, although they had been
close-clipped for the long and trying voyage.
At Wellington, New Zealand, Meares was compelled to trans-ship the
animals to yet another steamer. When the travelling circus was safely
installed in Quail Island our dogs and ponies had undergone shipments,
trans-shipments, inoculations and disinfectings sufficient to make them
glad to leave civilisation, and we had to thank Meares for his patience
in getting them down without any losses.
We sailed from Lyttelton on November 25 for Port Chalmers, had a
tremendous send-off and a great deal of cheering as the ship moved slowly
away from the piers. Bands played us out of harbour and most of the ships
flew farewell messages, which we did our best to answer.
Some members went down by train to Dunedin and joined us at Port
Chalmers. We filled up here with what coal we could squeeze into our
already overloaded ship and left finally for the Great Unknown on
November 29, 1910.
Lady Scott, Mrs. Wilson, and my own wife came out with us to the Heads
and then went on board the "Plucky" tug after saying good-bye. We were
given a rousing send-off by the small craft that accompanied us a few
miles on our way, but they turned homeward at last and at 3.30 p.m. we
were clear with all good-byes said--personally I had a heart like lead,
but, with every one else on board, bent on doing my duty and following
Captain Scott to the end. There was work to be done, however, and the
crew were glad of the orders that sent them from one rope to another and
gave them the chance to hide their feelings, for there is an awful
feeling of loneliness at this point in the lives of those who sign on the
ships of the "South Pole trade"--how glad we were to hide those feelings
and make sail--there were some dreadfully flat jokes made with the best
of good intentions when we watched dear New Zealand fading away as the
spring night gently obscured her from our view.
CHAPTER IV
THROUGH STORMY SEAS
After all it was a relief to get going at last and to have the Expedition
on board in its entirety, but what a funny little colony of souls. A
floating farm-yard best describes the appearance of the upper deck, with
the white pony heads peeping out of their stables, dogs chained to
stanchions, rails, and ring-bolts, pet rabbits lolloping around the ready
supply of compressed hay, and forage here, there, and everywhere. If the
"Terra Nova" was deeply laden from Cardiff, imagine what she looked like
leaving New Zealand. We had piled coal in sacks wherever it could be
wedged in between the deck cargo of petrol. Paraffin and oil drums filled
up most of the hatch spaces, for the poop had been rendered uninhabitable
by the great wooden cases containing two of our motor sledges.
The seamen were excellent, and Captain Scott seemed delighted with the
crowd. He and Wilson were very loyal to the old "Discovery" men we had
with us and Scott was impressed with my man, Cheetham, the Merchant
Service boatswain, and could not quite make out how "Alf," as the sailors
called him, got so much out of the hands--this little squeaky-voiced
man--I think we hit on Utopian conditions for working the ship. There
were no wasters, and our seamen were the pick of the British Navy and
Mercantile Marine. Most of the Naval men were intelligent petty officers
and were as fully alive as the merchantmen to "Alf's" windjammer
knowledge. Cheetham was quite a character, and besides being immensely
popular and loyal he was a tough, humorous little soul who had made more
Antarctic voyages than any man on board.
The seamen and stokers willingly gave up the best part of the crew space
in order to allow sheltered pony stables to be built in the forecastle;
it would have fared badly with the poor creatures had we kept them out on
deck on the southward voyage.
A visit to the Campbell Islands was projected, but abandoned on account
of the ship being unable to lay her course due to strong head winds on
December 1. We therefore shaped to cross the Antarctic Circle in 178
degrees W. and got a good run of nearly 200 miles in, but the wind rose
that afternoon and a gale commenced at a time when we least could afford
to face bad weather in our deeply-laden conditions. By 6 p.m. I had to
heave the ship to under lower topsails and fore topmast staysail. Engines
were kept going at slow speed to keep the ship under control, but when
night fell the prospect was gloomy enough. Captain Scott had consented to
my taking far more on board than the ship was ever meant to carry, and we
could not expect to accomplish our end without running certain risks. To
sacrifice coal meant curtailing the Antarctic cruising programme, but as
the weather grew worse we had to consider throwing coal overboard to
lighten the vessel. Quite apart from this, the huge waves which washed
over the ship swamped everything and increased the deck weights
considerably. Ten tons of coal were thrown over to prevent them from
taking charge and breaking petrol cases adrift. In spite of a liberal use
of oil to keep heavy water from breaking over, the decks were continually
swept by the seas and the rolling was so terrific that the poor dogs were
almost hanging by their chains. Meares and Dimitri, helped by the watch,
tended them unceasingly, but in spite of their combined efforts one dog
was washed overboard after being literally drowned on the upper deck. One
pony died that night, Oates and Atkinson standing by it and trying their
utmost to keep the wretched beast on its feet. A second animal succumbed
later, and poor Oates had a most trying time in caring for his charges
and rendering what help he could to ameliorate their condition. Those of
his ship-mates who saw him in this gale will never forget his strong,
brown face illuminated by a hanging lamp as he stood amongst those
suffering little beasts. He was a fine, powerful man, and on occasions he
seemed to be actually lifting the poor little ponies to their feet as the
ship lurched heavily to leeward and a great sea would wash the legs of
his charges from under them. One felt somehow, glancing into the ponies'
stalls, which Captain Scott and I frequently visited together, that
Oates's very strength itself inspired his animals with confidence. He
himself appeared quite unconscious of any personal suffering, although
his hands and feet must have been absolutely numbed by the cold and wet.
In the middle watch Williams, the Chief Engineer, reported that his pumps
were choked and that as fast as he cleared them they choked again, the
water coming into the ship so fast that the stoke-hold plates were
submerged and water gaining fast. I ordered the watch to man the
hand-pump, but that was soon choked too. Things now looked really
serious, since it was impossible to get to the pump-well while terrific
seas were washing over the ship and the afterhatch could not be opened.
Consequently we started to bail the water out with buckets and also
rigged the small fire-engine and pumped with this as well.
The water in the engine room gradually gained until it entered the ashpit
of the centre furnace and commenced to put the fires out. Both Williams
and Lashly were up to their necks in water, clearing and re-clearing the
engine room pump suctions, but eventually the water beat them and I
allowed Williams to let fires out in the boiler. It could not be
otherwise. We stopped engines, and with our cases of petrol being lifted
out of their lashings by the huge waves, with the ponies falling about
and the dogs choking and wallowing in the water and mess, their chains
entangling them and tripping up those who tried to clear them, the
situation looked as black and disheartening as it well could be.
When dawn broke the greater part of the lee bulwarks had been torn away
and our decks laid open to the sea, which washed in and out as it would
have over a rock. The poor ship laboured dreadfully, and after
consultation with Captain Scott we commenced to cut a hole in the engine
room bulkhead to get at the hand pump-well.
Meanwhile I told the afterguard off into watches, and, relieving every
two hours, they set to work, formed a chain at the engine room ladder way
and bailed the ship out with buckets. In this way they must have
discharged between 2000 and 3000 gallons of water. The watch manned the
hand pump, which, although choked, discharged a small stream, and for
twenty-four hours this game was kept up, Scott himself working with the
best of them and staying with the toughest.
It was a sight that one could never forget: everybody saturated, some
waist-deep on the floor of the engine room, oil and coal dust mixing with
the water and making every one filthy, some men clinging to the iron
ladder way and passing full buckets up long after their muscles had
ceased to work naturally, their grit and spirit keeping them going. I did
admire the weaker people, especially those who were unhardened by the
months of physical training of the voyage out from England.
When each two-hour shift was relieved, the party, coughing and
spluttering, would make their way into the ward-room where Hooper and
Neale, the stewards, mere boys, supplied them with steaming cocoa. How on
earth the cooks kept the galley fires going I could never understand:
they not only did this, but fed us all at frequent intervals.
By 10 p.m. on the 2nd December the hole in the engine room bulkhead was
cut completely. I climbed through it, followed by Bowers, the carpenter,
and Teddy Nelson, and when we got into the hold there was just enough
room to wriggle along to the pump-well over the coal. We tore down a
couple of planks to get access to the shaft and then I went down to the
bottom to find out how matters stood. Bowers came next with an electric
torch, which he shone downwards whilst I got into the water, hanging on
to the bottom rungs of the ladder leading to the bilge. Sitting on the
keel the water came up to my neck and, except for my head, I was under
water till after midnight passing up coal balls, the cause of all the
trouble. Though, of course, we had washed out the bilges in New Zealand,
the constant stream of water which leaked in from the topsides had
carried much coal-dust into them. This, mixed with the lubricating oil
washed down from the engines, had cemented into buns and balls which
found their way down and choked both hand and engine pump suctions. I
sent up twenty bucketfuls of this filthy stuff, which meant frequently
going head under the unspeakably dirty water, but having cleared the
lower ends of the suction pipe the watch manning the hand pump got the
water down six inches, and it was obvious by 4 o'clock in the morning
that the pump was gaining. We therefore knocked the afterguard off
bailing, and the seamen worked steadily at the pump until 9 a.m. and got
the water right down to nine inches, so we were able to light fires again
and once more raise steam. We made a serviceable wire grating to put
round the hand pump suction to keep the bigger stuff from choking the
pipes in future. It was days before some of us could get our hair clean
from that filthy coal-oil mixture.
One more pony died during the gale, but when the weather moderated early
on the 3rd, the remaining seventeen animals bucked up and, when not
eating their food, nonchalantly gnawed great gaps in the stout planks
forming the head parts of their stalls. At last the sun came out and
helped to dry the dogs. Campbell and his seamen cleared up the decks and
re-secured the top hamper in the forenoon, we reset sail, and after tea
Scott, Oates, Atkinson, and a few more of us hoisted the two dead ponies
out of the forecastle, through the skylight, and over the side. It was a
dirty job, because the square of the hatch was so small that a powerful
purchase had to be used which stretched out the ponies like dead rabbits.
We only made good twenty-three miles that day and, although the gale had
abated, it left us a legacy in the shape of a heavy uncomfortable swell.
Most of the bunks were in a sad state, the ship having worked so badly
that the upper deck seams opened everywhere and water had literally
poured into them.
Looking at the fellows' faces in the ward-room at dinner that night there
was no trace of anxiety, worry, or fatigue to be seen. We drank to
sweet-hearts and wives, it being Saturday evening, and those who had no
watch were glad to turn in early.
More fresh wind next day but finer weather to follow. Gran declared he
saw an iceberg on the 5th December, but it turned out to be a whale
spouting. Our runs were nothing to boast of, 150 miles being well above
the average, but the lengthening days told us that we were rapidly
changing our latitude and approaching the ice.
CHAPTER V
ANTARCTICA--THROUGH THE PACK ICE TO LAND
We sighted our first iceberg in latitude 62 degrees on the evening of
Wednesday, December 7. Cheetham's squeaky hail came down from aloft and I
went up to the crow's-nest to look at it, and from this time on we passed
all kinds of icebergs, from the huge tabular variety to the little
weathered water-worn bergs. Some we steamed quite close to and they
seemed for all the world like great masses of sugar floating in the sea.
From latitudes 60 to 63 degrees we saw a fair number of birds: southern
fulmars, whale birds, molly-mawks, sooty albatrosses, and occasionally
Cape-pigeons still. Then the brown-backed petrels began to appear, sure
precursors of the pack ice--it was in sight right enough the day after
the brown-backs were seen. By breakfast time on December 9, when nearly
in latitude 65 degrees, we were steaming through thin streams of broken
pack with floes from six to twelve feet across. A few penguins and seals
were seen, and by 10 a.m. no less than twenty-seven icebergs in sight.
The newcomers to these regions were clustered in little groups on the
forecastle and poop sketching and painting, hanging over the bows and
gleefully watching this lighter stuff being brushed aside by our strong
stem.
We were passing through pack all day, but the ice hereabouts was not
close enough nor heavy enough to stop us appreciably. The ship was
usually conned by Pennell and myself from the crow's-nest, and I took the
ship very near one berg for Ponting to cinematograph it. We now began to
see snow petrels with black beaks and pure white bodies, rather
resembling doves. Also we saw great numbers of brown-backed petrels the
first day in the pack, whole flights of them resting on the icebergs. The
sun was just below the horizon at midnight and we had a most glorious
sunset, which was first a blazing copper changing to salmon pink and then
purple. The pools of water between the floes caught the reflection, the
sea was perfectly still and every berg and ice-floe caught something of
the delicate colour. Wilson, of course, was up and about till long after
midnight sketching and painting. The Antarctic pack ice lends itself to
water-colour work far better than to oils.
When conning the ship from up in the crow's-nest one has a glorious view
of this great changing ice-field. Moving through lanes of clear blue
water, cannoning into this floe and splitting it with iron-bound stem,
overriding that and gnawing off a twenty ton lump, gliding south, east,
west, through leads of open water, then charging an innocent-looking
piece which brings the ship up all-standing, astern and ahead again,
screwing and working the wonderful wooden ship steadily southward until
perhaps two huge floes gradually narrow the lane and hold the little lady
fast in their frozen grip.
This is the time to wait and have a look round: on one side floes the
size of a football field, all jammed together, with their torn up edges
showing their limits and where the pressure is taken. Then three or four
bergs, carved from the distant Barrier, imprisoned a mile or so away,
with the evening sun's soft rays casting beautiful shadows about them and
kissing their glistening cliff faces.
Glancing down from the crow's-nest the ship throws deep shadows over the
ice and, while the sun is just below the southern horizon, the still
pools of water show delicate blues and greens that no artist can ever do
justice to. It is a scene from fairyland.
I loved this part of the voyage, for I was in my element. At odd times
during the night, if one can call it night, the crow's-nest would have
visitors, and hot cocoa would be sent up in covered pots by means of
signal halyards. The pack ice was new to all the ship's officers except
myself, but they soon got into the way of conning and working through
open water leads and, as time went on, distinguished the thinner ice from
the harder and more dangerous stuff.
On December 10 we stopped the ship and secured her to a heavy floe from
which we took in sufficient ice to make eight tons of fresh water, and
whilst doing this Rennick sounded and obtained bottom in 1964 fathoms,
fora-minifera and decomposed skeleton unicellular organs, also two pieces
of black basic lava. Lillie and Nelson took plankton and water bottle
samples to about 280 fathoms. A few penguins came round and a good many
crab-eater seals were seen. In the afternoon we got under way again and
worked for about eight miles through the pack, which was gradually
becoming denser. About 2:30 p.m. I saw from the crow's-nest four seals on
a floe. I slid down a backstay, and whilst the officer on watch worked
the ship close to them, I got two or three others with all our firearms
and shot the lot from the forecastle head. We had seal liver for dinner
that night; one or two rather turned up their noses at it, but, as Scott
pointed out, the time would come when seal liver would be a delicacy to
dream about.
Campbell did not do much conning except in the early morning, as his
executive duties kept him well occupied. The Polar sledge journey had its
attractions, but Campbell's party were to have interesting work and were
envied by many on board. For reasons which need not here be entered into
Campbell had to abandon the King Edward VII. Land programme, but in these
days his mob were known as the Eastern Party, to consist of the Wicked
Mate, Levick, and Priestley, with three seamen, Abbott, Browning, and
Dickason. Campbell had the face of an angel and the heart of a hornet.
With the most refined and innocent smile he would come up to me and ask
whether the Eastern Party could have a small amount of this or that
luxury. Of course I would agree, and sure enough Bowers would tell me
that Campbell had already appropriated a far greater share than he was
ever entitled to of the commodity in question. This happened again and
again, but the refined smile was irresistible and I am bound to say the
Wicked Mate generally got away with it, for even Bowers, the
incomparable, was bowled over by that smile.
We crossed the Antarctic Circle on the morning of the 10th, little
dreaming in those happy days that the finest amongst us would never
recross it again.
We took a number of deep-sea soundings, several of over 2000 fathoms, on
this first southward voyage. Rennick showed himself very expert with the
deep-sea gear and got his soundings far more easily than we had done in
the "Discovery" and "Morning" days.
We were rather unfortunate as regards the pack ice met with, and must
have passed through 400 miles of it from north to south. On my two
previous voyages we had had easier conditions altogether, and then it had
not mattered, but all with these dogs and ponies cooped up and losing
condition, with the "Terra Nova" eating coal and sixty hungry men
scoffing enormous meals, we did not seem to be doing much or getting on
with the show. It was, of course, nobody's fault, but our patience was
sorely tried.
We made frequent stops in the pack ice, even letting fires out and
furling sail, and sometimes the ice would be all jammed up so that not a
water hole was visible--this condition would continue for days. Then, for
no apparent reason, leads would appear and black water-skies would tempt
us to raise steam again. Scott himself showed an admirable patience, for
the rest of us had something to occupy our time with. Pennell and I, for
instance, were constantly taking sights and working them out to find our
position and also to get the set and drift of the current. Then there
were magnetic observations to be taken on board and out on the ice away
from the magnetic influence of the ship, such as it was. Simpson had
heaps to busy himself with, and Ponting was here, there, and everywhere
with his camera and cinematograph machine. Had it not been for our
anxiety to make southward progress, the time would have passed pleasantly
enough, especially in fine weather. Days came when we could get out on
the floe and exercise on ski, and Gran zealously looked to all our
requirements in this direction.
December 11 witnessed the extraordinary sight of our company standing
bareheaded on deck whilst Captain Scott performed Divine Service. Two
hymns were sung, which broke strangely the great white silence. The
weather was against us this day in that we had snow, thaw, and actually
rain, but we could not complain on the score of weather conditions
generally. Practically all the ship's company exercised on the floes
while we remained fast frozen. Next day there was some slight loosening
of the pack and we tried sailing through it and managed half a degree
southward in the forty-eight hours. We got along a few miles here and
there, but when ice conditions continued favourable for making any
serious advance it was better to light up and push our way onward with
all the power we could command. We got some heavy bumps on the 13th
December and as this hammering was not doing the ship much good, since I
was unable to make southing then at a greater rate than one mile an hour,
we let fires right out and prepared, as Captain Scott said, "To wait till
the clouds roll by." For the next few days there was not much doing nor
did we experience such pleasant weather.
Constant visits were made to the crow's-nest in search of a way through.
December 16 and 17 were two very gray days with fresh wind, snow, and
some sleet. Affectionate memories of Captain Colbeck and the little
relief ship, "Morning," came back when the wind soughed and whistled
through the rigging: This sound is most uncanny and the ice always seemed
to exaggerate any noise.
I hated the overcast days in the pack. It was bitterly cold in the
crow's-nest however much one put on then, and water skies often turned
out to be nimbus clouds after we had laboured and cannoned towards them.
The light, too, tired and strained one's eyes far more than on clear
days.
When two hundred miles into the pack the ice varied surprisingly. We
would be passing through ice a few inches thick and then suddenly great
floes four feet above the water and twelve to fifteen feet deep would be
encountered. December 18 saw us steaming through tremendous leads of open
water. A very funny occurrence was witnessed in the evening when the wash
of the ship turned a floe over under water and on its floating back a
fish was left stranded. It was a funny little creature, nine inches in
length, a species of notathenia. Several snow petrels and a skua-gull
made attempts to secure the fish, but the afterguard kept up such a
chorus of cheers, hoots and howls that the birds were scared away till
one of us secured the fish from the floe.
Early on the 19th we passed close to a large iceberg which had a shelving
beach like an island. We began to make better progress to the
south-westward and worked into a series of open leads. We came across our
first emperor penguin, a young one, and two sea-leopards, besides
crab-eater seals, many penguins, some giant petrels, and a Wilson petrel.
That afternoon tremendous pieces of ice were passed; they were absolutely
solid and regular floes, being ten to twelve feet above water and, as far
as one could judge, about 50 feet below. The water here was beautifully
clear.
We had now reached latitude 68 degrees and, as penguins were plentiful,
Archer and Clissold, the cooks, made us penguin stews and "hooshes" to
eke out our fresh provisions. Concerning the penguins, they frequently
came and inspected the ship. One day Wilson and I chased some, but they
continually kept just out of our reach; then Uncle Bill lay down on the
snow, and when one, out of curiosity, came up to him he grabbed it by the
leg and brought it to the ship, protesting violently, for all the world
like a little old man in a dinner jacket. Atkinson and Wilson found a new
kind of tapeworm in this penguin, with a head like a propeller. This worm
has since been named after one of us!
We were now down to under 300 tons of coal, some of which had perforce to
be landed, in addition to the 30 tons of patent fuel which were under the
forward stores. I had no idea that Captain Scott could be so patient. He
put the best face on everything, although he certainly was disappointed
in the "Terra Nova" and her steaming capacity. He could not well have
been otherwise when comparing her with his beloved "Discovery." Whilst in
the pack our leader spent his time in getting hold of the more detailed
part of our scientific programme and mildly tying the scientists in
knots.
We had some good views of whales in the pack. Whenever a whale was
sighted Wilson was called to identify it unless it proved to belong to
one of the more common species. We saw Sibbald's whale; Rorquals, and
many killer whales, but no Right whales were properly identified this
trip.
I very much wanted to show Scott the island we had discovered in the
first Antarctic Relief Expedition and named after him, but when in its
vicinity snow squalls and low visibility prevented this.
On the 22nd Bowers, Wright, Griffith Taylor and myself chased a lot of
young penguins on the ice and secured nine for our Christmas dinner. We
spent a very pleasant Christmas this year, devoting great attention to
food. We commenced the day with kidneys from our frozen meat store.
Captain Scott conducted the Christmas church service and all hands
attended since we had no steam up and were fast held in the pack. The
ward-room was decorated with our sledge flags and a new blue tablecloth
generally brightened up our Mess. We had fresh mutton for lunch and the
seamen had their Christmas dinner at this time. The afterguard dined at
6.30 on fresh penguin, roast beef, plum pudding, mince pies, and
asparagus, while we had champagne, port, and liqueurs to drink and an
enormous box of Fry's fancy chocolates for dessert. This "mortal gorge"
was followed by a sing-song lasting until midnight, nearly every one,
even the most modest, contributing. Around the Christmas days we made but
insignificant headway, only achieving thirty-one miles in the best part
of the week, but on the 29th the floes became thin and the ice showed
signs of recent formation, though intermingled with heavier floes of old
and rotten ice. There was much diatomacea in the rotten floes. About 2.40
a.m. the ship broke through into a lead of open water six miles in
length.
I spent the middle watch in the crow's-nest, Bowers being up there with
me talking over the Expedition, his future and mine. He was a wonderful
watch companion, especially when he got on to his favourite subject,
India. He had some good tales to tell of the Persian Gulf, of days and
weeks spent boat-cruising, of attacks made on gun-running dhows and
kindred adventure. He told me that one dhow was boarded while he was up
the Gulf, when the Arabs, waiting until most of the boat's crew of
bluejackets were on board, suddenly let go the halyards of their great
sail and let it down crash over the lot, the boom breaking many heads and
the sail burying our seamen, while the Arabs got to work and practically
scuppered the crowd.
Soon after 4 a.m. I went below and turned in, confident that we were
nearing the southern extreme of the pack. Captain Scott awoke when I went
into the cabin, pleased at the prospect, but after so many adverse ice
conditions he shook his head, unwilling to believe that we should get
clear yet awhile. I bet him ten sardine sandwiches that we should be out
of the pack by noon on the 30th, and when I turned out at 8 o'clock I was
delighted to find the ship steaming through thin floes and passing into a
series of great open water leads. By 6 p.m. on the 29th a strong breeze
was blowing, snow was falling, and we were punching along under steam and
sail. Sure enough we got out of the pack early on the 30th and, cracking
on all our canvas, were soon doing eight knots with a following wind.
Later in the day the wind headed us with driving snow, fine rain, and,
unfortunately, a considerable head swell. This caused the ship to pitch
so badly that the ponies began to give trouble again. Oates asked for the
speed to be reduced, but we got over this by setting fore and aft sail
and keeping the ship's head three or four points off the wind. New Year's
Eve gave us another anxious time, for we encountered a hard blow from the
S.S.E. It was necessary to heave the ship to most of the day under bare
poles with the engines just jogging to keep the swell on her bow. A thin
line of pack ice was sighted in the morning and this turned out to be
quite a blessing in disguise, for I took the ship close to the edge of it
and skirted along to leeward. The ice formed a natural break-water and
damped the swell most effectually. The swell and sea in the open would
have been too much for the ponies as it must be remembered that they had
been in their stalls on board for five weeks.
We had now reached the Continental Shelf, the depth of water had changed
from 1111 fathoms on the 30th to 180 fathoms this day. The biologists
took advantage of our jogging along in the open water to trawl, but very
few specimens were obtained. At midnight the "youth of the town" made the
devil of a din by striking sixteen bells, blowing whistles on the siren,
hooting with the foghorn, cheering and singing. What children we were,
but what matter!
1911 came like the opening of a new volume of an exciting book. This was
the year in which Scott hoped to reach the Pole, the ideal date he had
given being December 21. This was the year that Campbell and his party
were looking forward to so eagerly--if only they could be successful in
landing their gear and equipment in King Edward VII. Land--and, for the
less showy but more scientific sledgers, 1911 held a wealth of excitement
in store. Griffith Taylor and Debenham knew pretty well that next New
Year's Day would see them in the midst of their Western journey with the
secrets of those rugged mountains revealed perhaps. I do not know what my
own feelings were, it would be impossible to describe them. I read up
part of Shackleton's diary and something of what his companion Wilde had
written. Just this:
12 _miles_, 200 _yards_.--1/1/08.
"Started usual time. Quan (pony) got through the forenoon fairly well
with assistance, but after lunch the poor chap broke down and we had
to take him out of harness. Shackleton, Adams, and Marshall dragged
his sledge, and I brought the ponies along with the other load. As
soon as we camped I gave Quan the bullet, and Marshall and I cut him
up. He was a tough one. I am cook this week with Marshall as my tent
mate."
The more one read into Shackleton's story the more wonderful it all
seemed, and with our resources failure appeared impossible--yet that
telegram which Captain Scott had received at Melbourne:
"Beg leave to inform you proceeding Antarctic.
----AMUNDSEN."
We all knew that Amundsen had no previous Antarctic sledging experience,
but no one could deny that to Norwegians ice-work, and particularly
ski-ing, was second nature, and here lay some good food for thought and
discussion. Where would the "Fram" enter the pack? Where would Amundsen
make his base? The answers never once suggested anything like the truth.
Actually on New Year's Day Amundsen was between 500 and 600 miles north
of us, but of Roald Amundsen more anon.
How strange to be once more in open water, able to steer whatever course
we chose, with broad daylight all night, and at noon only a couple of
days' run from Cape Crozier. Practically no ice in sight, but a sunlit
summer sea in place of the pack, with blue sky and cumulo stratus clouds,
so different from the gray, hard skies that hung so much over the great
ice field we had just forced. The wind came fair as the day wore on and
by 10 p.m. we were under plain sail, doing a good six knots. High
mountains were visible to the west-ward, part of the Admiralty Range, two
splendid peaks to be seen towering above the remainder, which appeared to
be Mounts Sabine and Herschell. Coulman Island was seen in the distance
during the day.
What odd thrills the sight of the Antarctic Continent sent through most
of us. Land was first sighted late on New Year's Eve and I think
everybody had come on deck at the cry "Land oh!" To me those peaks always
did and always will represent silent defiance; there were times when they
made me shudder, but it is good to have looked upon them and to remember
them in those post-War days of general discontent, for they remind me of
the four Antarctic voyages which I have made and of the unanimous
goodwill that obtained in each of the little wooden ships which were our
homes for so long. How infinitely distant those towering mountains seemed
and how eternal their loneliness.
As we neared Cape Crozier Wilson became more and more interested. He was
dreadfully keen on the beach there being selected as a base, and his
enthusiasm was infectious. Certainly Scott was willing enough to try to
effect a landing even apart from the advantage of having a new base. The
Cape Crozier beach would probably mean a shorter journey to the Pole, for
we should be spared the crevasses which radiated from White Island and
necessitated a big detour being made to avoid them.
As we proceeded the distant land appeared more plainly and we were able
to admire and identify the various peaks of the snow-clad mountain range.
The year could not have opened more pleasantly. We had church in a warm
sun, with a temperature several degrees above freezing point, and most of
us spent our off-time basking in the sunshine, yarning, skylarking, and
being happy in general.
We tried to get a white-bellied whale on the 2nd January, but our
whale-gun did not seem to have any buck in it and the harpoon dribbled
out a fraction of the distance it was expected to travel.
The same glorious weather continued on January 2, and Oates took five of
the ponies on to the upper deck and got their stables cleared out. The
poor animals had had no chance of being taken from their stalls for
thirty-eight days, and their boxes were between two and three feet deep
with manure. The four ponies stabled on the upper deck looked fairly well
but were all stiff in their legs.
Rennick took soundings every forty or fifty miles in the Ross Sea, the
depth varying from 357 fathoms comparatively close up to Cape Crozier to
180 fathoms in latitude 73 degrees.
Cape Crozier itself was sighted after breakfast on the 3rd, and the Great
Ice Barrier appeared like a thin line on the southern horizon at 11.30
that morning. We were close to the Cape by lunch time, and by 1.30 we had
furled sail in order to manoeuvre more freely. The "Terra Nova" steamed
close up to the face of the Barrier, then along to the westward until we
arrived in a little bay where the Barrier joins Cape Crozier. Quite a
tide was washing past the cliff faces of the ice; it all looked very
white, like chalk, while the sun was near the northern horizon, but later
in the afternoon blue and green shadows were cast over the ice, giving it
a softer and much more beautiful appearance. Ponting was given a chance
to get some cinema films of the Barrier while we were cruising around,
and then we stopped in the little bay where the Ice Barrier joins Cape
Crozier, lowered a boat, and Captain Scott, Wilson, myself, and several
others went inshore in a whaler. We were, however, unable to land as the
swell was rather too heavy for boat work. We saw an Emperor penguin chick
and a couple of adult Emperors, besides many Adèlie penguins and
skua-gulls. We pulled along close under the great cliffs which frown over
the end of the Great Ice Barrier. They contrasted strangely in their
blackness with the low crystal ice cliffs of the Barrier itself. In one
place we were splashed by the spray from quite a large waterfall, and one
realised that the summer sun, beating down on those black foothills, must
be melting enormous quantities of ice and snow. A curious ozone smell,
which must have been the stench of the guano from the penguin rookeries,
was noticed, but land smells of any sort were pleasant enough now for it
brought home to us the fact that we should shortly embark on yet another
stage of the Expedition.
Pennell conned the ship close under the cliffs and followed the boat
along the coast. The "Terra Nova" was quite dwarfed by the great rocky
bluffs and we realised the height of the cliffs for the first time.
Whilst we were prospecting Nelson obtained water-bottle samples and
temperatures at 10, 50, 100, and 200 fathoms. The deep water apparently
continued to the foot of the cliff in most places but there were two or
three tiny steep beaches close to the junction of the Barrier and Ross
Island.
Captain Scott being satisfied that no landing was possible, we in the
boat returned to the ship and proceeded in her to the penguin rookery, a
mile or so farther west. When half a mile from the shore, we found the
bottom rapidly shoaling, the least depth being 9 1/2 fathoms. Several
small bergs were ashore hereabouts, but the swell breaking on the beach
plainly told us that a landing was out of the question. After carefully
searching the shore with glasses while the ship steamed slowly along it
all, ideas of a landing were abandoned and we set course for McMurdo
Sound. As soon as the ship was headed for her new destination we
commenced to make a running survey of the coast to Cape Bird. This took
until ten o'clock at night, and we found a great bight existed in Ross
Island which quite changed its shape on the map. After 10 p.m. we ran
into some fairly heavy pack ice, gave up surveying, and had a meal.
I went up to the crow's-nest in order to work the ship to the best
advantage, and spent eleven hours on end there, but the excitement of
getting the "Terra Nova" round Cape Bird and into McMurdo Sound made the
time fly. Occasionally the ship crashed heavily as she charged her way
through the ice masses which skirted the shore. Whilst I conned the ship
leadsmen sounded carefully, and I was able to work her close in to the
coast near Cape Bird and avoid some heavy ice which we could never have
forced. At 4.30 a.m. I broke through the Cape Bird ice-field and worked
the ship on as far as Cape Royds, which was passed about 6.30 a.m.
Looking through our binoculars we noticed Shackleton's winter hut looking
quite new and fresh.
Leaving Cape Royds we made our way up McMurdo's Sound as far as
Inaccessible Island, where we found the Strait frozen over from east to
west. Skirting along the edge of the sea ice I found there was no way in,
although I endeavoured to break into it at several points to reach what
looked like open water spaces a mile or two from the ice edge.
Accordingly, we stopped and I came down to report on the outlook. Captain
Scott, Wilson, and I eventually went aloft to the cross-trees and had a
good look round; we finally decided to land and look at a place where
there appeared to be a very good beach. In "Discovery" days this spot was
known as the skuary, being a favourite nesting place for skua-gulls, a
sort of little cape. I piloted the ship as close I could to this
position, which is situate midway between Cape Bird and Cape Armitage on
Ross Island. An ice anchor was laid out and then Scott, Wilson, and I
landed on the sea ice and walked a mile or so over it to the little cape
in question.
It appeared to be an ideal winter quarters, and was then and there
selected as our base. Captain Scott named it Cape Evans, after me, for
which I was very grateful. Wilson already had a Cape named after him on
the Victoria Land coast in latitude 82 degrees.
We now returned on board and immediately commenced landing motor sledges,
ponies, etc. For better working, once the various parties were landed, we
adopted the standard time of meridian 180 degrees, in other words, twelve
hours fast on Greenwich Mean Time.
We now organised ourselves into three parties and I gave up the command
of the "Terra Nova" to Pennell till the ship returned from New Zealand
next year. The charge of the transport over the one and a half miles of
sea ice which lay between the ship and shore was given to Campbell,
whilst I took charge of the Base Station, erection of huts, and so forth,
Captain Scott himself supervising, planning and improving.
We continued getting stuff out on the ice until late at night, and by
dinner time, 7 p.m., we had put two motor sledges, all the dogs and
ponies ashore, besides most of the ordinary sledges and tents.
Next day we turned out all hands at 4.30, breakfasted at 5, started work
at 6, and landed all the petrol, kerosene, and hut timber. Most of the
haulage was done by motors and men, but a few runs were made with ponies.
We erected a big tent on the beach at Cape Evans and in this the
hut-building party and those who were stowing stores and unloading
sledges on the beach got their meals and sleep. We worked continuously
until 10 p.m. with only the shortest of meal intervals, and then, tired
but contented, we "flattened out" in our sleeping-bags, bunks, or
hammocks.
The following day the same routine was continued and nearly the whole of
the provision cases came ashore and were stacked in neat little piles
under Bowers's direction. This indefatigable little worker now devoted
himself entirely to the western party stores. He knew every case and all
about it. Each one weighed approximately 60 lb. We had purposely arranged
that this should be so when ordering stores in London to save weight and
space. The cases were made of Venesta 3-ply wood. Of course, the
instruments and heavier scientific gear could not stow in these handy
packages, but the sixty-pound-Venesta was adhered to whenever possible.
The ponies were not worked till the afternoon of the 6th, and then only
the best of them with light loads.
Davis, the carpenter, had with him seaman Ford, Keohane, and Abbot. Their
routine was a little different from ours: they worked at hut building
from 7 a.m. till midnight usually, and their results were little short of
marvellous. Odd people helped them when they could, and of these Pouting
showed himself to be _facile princeps_ as carpenter. I never saw anything
like the speed in which he set up tongued and grooved match boarding.
Day, Nelson, and Lashly worked with the motor sledges; the newest motor
frequently towed loads of 2500 lb. over the ice at a six mile an hour
speed. The oldest hauled a ton and managed six double trips a day. Day,
the motor engineer, had been down here before--both he and Priestley came
from the Shackleton Expedition. The former had a decidedly comic vein
which made him popular all round. From start to finish Day showed himself
to be the most undefeated sportsman, and it was not his fault that the
motor sledges did badly in the end.
Perhaps my diary from January 7, 1911, to the 8th gives a good idea of
the progress we were making with the base station and of the general
working day here. It reads as follows:
"_Saturday, January_ 7, 1911.
"All hands hard at work landing stores. Meares and Dimitri running dog
teams to and fro for light gear.
"Captain Scott, Dr. Wilson, Griffith Taylor, Debenham, Cherry-Garrard,
and Browning leading ponies. Campbell, Levick, and Priestley hauling
sledges with colossal energy and enormous loads, the majority of the
ship's party unloading stores; Bowers, two seamen, Atkinson, and I
unloading sledges on the beach and carrying their contents up to their
assigned positions, Simpson and Wright laying the foundations for a
magnetic hut, and so on. Every one happy and keen, working as
incessantly as ants. I took on the job of ice inspector, and three or
four times a day I go out and inspect the ice, building snow bridges
over the tide cracks and thin places. The ice, excepting the floe to
which the ship is fast, is several feet thick. The floe by the 'Terra
Nova' is very thin and rather doubtful. We, ashore, had dinner at 10
p.m. and turned in about 11."
But the following day, although included here, was by no means typical.
"_Sunday, January_ 8.
"This morning a regrettable accident took place. The third and newest
motor sledge was hoisted out and, while being hauled clear on to the
firm ice, it broke through and sank in deep water. Campbell and Day
came in with the news, which Captain Scott took awfully well.
"It was nobody's fault, as Simpson and Campbell both tested the floe
first and found it quite thick and apparently good. However, there it
is, in about 100 fathoms of water.
"We stopped sledging for the day and those on board shifted the ship
by warping, but could not get her into a satisfactory billet, so
raised steam.
"We spent the day working on the hut and putting chairs and benches
together. Captain Scott put the sledge meters together and I helped
him. These are similar to the distance meters on motor-cars. They
register in nautical miles (6084 feet) and yards, to 25 yards or less
by interpolation.
"Took a True Bearing and found the approximate variation for Simpson
(149 degrees E.)."
On the following day those on board the ship shifted her to a new
position alongside the fast ice, just under a mile from our beach. The
transportation of stores continued and we got ashore a great number of
bales of compressed fodder, also some Crown Preserve Patent Fuel. As
there was nothing much to do on the beach my party lent a hand with the
landing of fodder, and I led the ponies Miki, Jehu, and Blossom; the
latter, having suffered greatly on the outward voyage, was in poor
condition. Still, most of the ponies were doing well, and at night were
picketed on a snowdrift behind the hut. They occasionally got adrift, but
I usually heard them and got up to make them fast, my small sleeping-tent
being right alongside their tethering space.
Nelson continued working with me unless the requirements of his
biological work called him away. In less than a week we had the whole of
our stores and equipment landed, and from the beginning many of us took
up our quarters at Cape Evans itself. We pitched several small tents on
the beach; and it was an agreeable change to roll up and sleep in a fur
bag after the damp, cold berths we had occupied in the ship. Teddy Nelson
became my particular friend in the shore party and shared a sledging tent
with me. The rest of the shore staff paired off and slept in the small
tents, while Captain Scott had one to himself. We called it the "Holy of
Holies," and from the privacy of this tiny dwelling Scott issued his
directions, supervised, planned, and improved whenever improvement could
be made in anything. He had a marvellous brain and a marvellous way of
getting the best possible work out of his subordinates, still he never
spared himself. One did with extraordinary little sleep, and in the sunny
days it became necessary to leave tent doors wide open, otherwise the
close-woven wind-proof tent cloth kept all the fresh air out and one woke
with a terrific head.
To rightly get hold of our wintering place one must imagine a low spit of
land jutting out into a fiord running, roughly north and south and
bounded on both sides by a steep-to coast line indented with glaciers of
vast size. Here and there gigantic snow-slopes were to be seen which more
gradually lowered into the sea, and all around ice-covered mountains with
black and brown foothills. A few islands rose to heights of 300 or 400
feet in McMurdo Sound, and these had no snow on them worth speaking of
even in the winter. The visible land was of black or chocolate-brown,
being composed of volcanic tuff, basalts, and granite. There were
occasional patches of ruddy brown and yellow which relieved the general
black and white appearance of this uninhabitable land, and close to the
shore on the north side of Cape Evans were small patches of even gritty
sand. In the neighbourhood of our Cape hard, brittle rocks cropped up
everywhere, rocks that played havoc with one's boots. Sloping up fairly
steeply from Cape Evans itself we had more and more rock masses until a
kind of rampart was reached, on which one could see a number of
extraordinary conical piles of rock, which looked much as if they had
been constructed by human hands for landmarks or surveying beacons--these
were called debris cones. This part above and behind Cape Evans was
christened The Ramp, and from it one merely had to step from boulders and
stones on to the smooth blue ice-slope that extended almost without
interruption to the summit of Erebus itself. From The Ramp one could gaze
in wonder at that magnificent volcano, White Lady of the Antarctic,
beautiful in her glistening gown of sparkling crystal with a stole of
filmy smoke-cloud wrapped about her wonderful shoulders.
We used to gaze and gaze at that constantly changing smoke or steam which
the White Lady breathes out at all seasons, and has done for thousands of
years.
Those were such happy days during the first Cape Evans summer. For the
most part we had hot weather and could wash in the thaw pools which
formed from the melting snow, and even draw our drinking water from the
cascades which bubbled over the sun-baked rock, much as they do in
summer-time in Norway.
The progress made by Davis and his crew of voluntary carpenters was
amazing. One week after our arrival at the Cape, Nelson, Meares, and I
commenced to cut a cave out of the ice cap above our camp for stowing our
fresh mutton in. When knock-off work-time came Bowers, Nelson, and I made
our way over to the ship with a hundred gallons of ice from this cave to
be used for drinking water, it all helped to save coal and nobody made a
journey to or fro empty handed if it could be helped. Once on board we
took the opportunity to bath and shave. In this country it is certainly a
case of "Where I dines I sleeps," so after supper on board we coiled down
in somebody's beds and slept till 5.30 next morning when we returned to
camp and carried on all day, making great progress with the grotto, which
was eventually lit by electric light. We had plenty of variety in the
matter of work; one part of the grotto was intended for Simpson's
magnetic work, and this was the illuminated section. Whenever people
visited the ice caves we got them to do a bit of picking and hewing; even
roping in Captain Scott, who did a healthy half-hour's work when he came
along our way.
Scott and Wilson got their hands in at dog-driving now, as I did
occasionally myself. Nobody could touch Meares or Dimitri at dog-team
work, although later on Cherry-Garrard and Atkinson became the experts.
The hut was finished externally on January 12 and fine stables built up
on its northern side. This complete, Bowers arranged an annexe on the
south side from which to do the rationing and provision issues. How we
blessed all this fine weather; it was hardly necessary to wear snow
glasses, in spite of so much sunshine, for the glare was relieved by the
dark rock and sand around us. When all the stores had been discharged
from the ship she lightened up considerably, and Campbell then set to
work to ballast her for Pennell. Meares amused the naval members of our
party by asking, with a childlike innocence, "Had they got all the cargo
out of the steamer?" There was nothing wrong in what he said, but the
"Terra Nova," Royal Yacht Squadron--and "cargo" and "steamer"--how our
naval pride was hurt!
Incidentally we called the sandy strand (before the winter snow came, and
covered it, and blotted it all out) Hurrah Beach; the bay to the
northward of the winter quarters we christened Happy Bay. Although our
work physically was of the hardest we lived in luxury for a while. Nelson
provided cocoa for Captain Scott and myself at midnight just before we
slept. He used to make it after supper and keep it for us in a great
thermos flask. We only washed once a week and we were soon black with sun
and dirt but in splendid training. In the first three weeks my shore
gang, which included the lusty Canadian physicist, Wright, carried many
hundreds of cases, walked miles daily, dug ice, picked, shovelled, handed
ponies, cooked and danced. Outwardly we were not all prototypes of "the
Sentimental Bloke," but occasionally in the stillness of the summer
nights, we some of us unbent a bit, when the sun stood low in the south
and all was quiet and still, and we did occasionally build castles in the
air and draw home-pictures to one another, pictures of English summers,
of river picnics and country life that framed those distant homes in gold
and made them look to us like little bits of heaven--however, what was
more important, the stores were all out of the "Terra Nova," even to
stationery, instruments, and chronometers, and we could have removed into
the hut at a pinch a week before we did, or gone sledging, for that
matter, had we not purposely delayed to give the ponies a chance to
regain condition. It was certainly better to let the carpenter and his
company straighten up first, and in our slack hours we, who were to live
in the palatial hut, got the house in order, put up knick-knacks, and
settled into our appointed corners with our personal gear and
professional impedimenta only at the last moment, a day or two before the
big depot-laying sledge journey was appointed to start. Simpson and
Ponting had the best allotments in the hut, because the former had to
accommodate anemometers, barometers, thermometers, motors, bells, and a
diversity of scientific instruments, but yet leave room to sleep amongst
them without being electrocuted, while the latter had to arrange a
small-sized dark room, 8 ft. by 6 ft. floor dimension, for all his
developing of films and plates, for stowing photographic gear and
cinematograph, and for everything in connection with his important and
beautiful work as camera artist to the Expedition. Ponting likewise slept
where he worked, so a bed was also included in the dark room.
Before moving the chronometers ashore Pennell, Rennick, and I myself took
astronomical observations to determine independently the position of the
observation spot on the beach at Cape Evans. The preliminary position
gave us latitude 77 degrees 38 minutes 23 seconds S. longitude 166
degrees 33 minutes 24 seconds E., a more accurate determination was
arrived at by running meridian distances from New Zealand and taking
occultations during the ensuing winter, for longitude: latitudes were
obtained by the mean results of stars north and south and meridian
altitudes of the sun above and below pole.
Before getting busy with the preliminaries for the big depot journey, I
took stock of the fresh meat in the grotto. The list of frozen flesh
which I handed over to Clissold, the cook, looked luxurious enough, for
it included nothing less than 700 lb. of beef, 100 sheep carcasses, 2
pheasants, 3 ox-tails, and 3 tongues, 10 lb. of sweetbread, 1 box of
kidneys, 10 lb. of suet, 82 penguins, and 11 skua-gulls! The cooks'
corner in the hut was very roomy, and, if my memory serves me aright, our
cooking range was of similar pattern to one supplied to the Royal yacht,
"Alexandra."
On January 19 a snow road was made over to the ice foot on the south side
of Cape Evans in order to save the ponies' legs and hoofs. The Siberian
ponies were not shod, and this rough, volcanic rock would have shaken
them considerably.
A great deal of the bay ice had broken away and drifted out of the Sound,
so that by the 20th the ship was only a few hundred yards from Hurrah
Beach. This day Rennick, smiling from ear to ear, came across the ice
with the pianola in bits conveyed on a couple of sledges. He fixed it up
with great cleverness at one end of the hut and it was quite wonderful to
see how he stripped it on board, brought it through all sorts of spaces,
transported it undamaged over ice and rocky beach, re-erected it, tuned
it, and then played "Home, Sweet Home." What with the pianola going all
out, the gramophone giving us Melba records, and the ship's company's
gramophone squawking out Harry Lauder's opposition numbers, Ponting
cinematographing everything of interest and worthy of pictorial record,
little Anton rushing round with nosebags for the ponies, Meares and
Dimitri careering with the dog teams over ice, beach, packing cases, and
what not, sailors with coloured tam-o'-shanters bobbing around in
piratical style, the hot sun beating down and brightening up everything,
one might easily have imagined this to be the circus scene, in the great
Antarctic joy-ride film. Everything ran on wheels in these days, and it
was difficult to imagine that in three months there would be no sun, that
this sweltering beach would be encrusted with ice, and that the cold,
dark winter would be upon us.
The 21st was quite an exciting day. Captain Scott woke me at 4 a.m. to
tell me that the ship was in difficulties. I got up at once, called the
four seamen, and with Uncle Bill we all went out on to the floe. The ice
to which the ship was fast had broken away, and so we helped her re-moor
with her ice-anchors. Petty Officer Evans went adrift on the floe, but we
got him back in the pram. We turned in again at 5.15 and set a watch, but
at 6.30 the "Terra Nova" hoisted an ensign at the main, a pre-arranged
signal, and so all hands again went out and got her ice anchors; she
slipped the ends of the wire hawsers holding them and stood out into the
Sound. The ice was breaking up fast, a swell rolling in causing the big
floes to grind and crunch in rather alarming fashion. Fortunately,
Pennell had raised steam, which was just as well for before he got clear
the ship was only half a cable from Cape Evans, which lay dead to
leeward--she was well out of it. We took the wire hawsers, pram and ice
anchors to our winter quarters and kept them in readiness for the ship's
return, then had a delightful breakfast, with appetites sharpened from
the early morning exercise and chill wind. Afterwards we continued the
preparations for the depot trip and got eight out of eleven sledges
fitted up with the bulk of their gear and a portion of stores.
At about 3 p.m. the "Terra Nova" came in, and just as she was turning to
come alongside the fast ice she struck a rock with only twelve feet of
water on it. This pinnacle, as it proved to be, lay within twenty feet of
a sounding of eleven fathoms. Pennell immediately sounded all round,
shifted several tons weight aft, and with the engines going full speed
astern, he made his crew run from side to side and roll ship. Scott sent
me out in the whaler with a party to assist the ship; we sounded all
round and quickly made a plan of the relative disposition of the
soundings round the "Terra Nova." However, as we finished, the ship moved
astern and successfully floated, the crew gave three cheers, and we
cheered lustily from the whaler. Pennell, as usual, was quite equal to
the occasion when the ship struck; he was absolutely master of the
situation, cool, decided, and successful. I was thankful to see the ship
floating again, for, unlike the "Discovery" expedition, we had no plans
for a relief ship.
When I told Captain Scott that the "Terra Nova" had run ashore he took it
splendidly. We ran down to the beach, and when we beheld the ship on a
lee shore heeling over to the wind, a certain amount of sea and swell
coming in from the northward, and with the ultimate fate of the
Expedition looking black and doubtful, Scott was quite cheerful, and he
immediately set about to cope with the situation as coolly as though he
were talking out his plans for a sledge journey.
After the "Terra Nova" got off this intruding rock she was steamed round
to the edge of the fast ice, near the glacier tongue which juts out
between Cape Evans and Cape Barne. We placed her ice-anchors, and after
that Wilson and I went on board and had a yarn with Pennell, whom we
brought back to tea. Scott was awfully nice to him about the grounding
and told him of his own experience in 1904, when the "Discovery" was
bumping heavily in a gale just after freeing herself from the ice at Hut
Point.
Nelson, Griffith Taylor, Meares, and Day helped me with the sledge
packing until 11.30 p.m. when we rolled into our bunks tired out and
immediately fell asleep.
The next day, a Sunday, was entirely devoted to preparing personal gear
for the depot journey: this means fitting lamp wick straps to our fur
boots or finnesko, picking from our kits a proportion of puttees and
socks, sewing more lamp wick on to our fur gloves so that these could
hang from our shoulders when it was necessary to uncover our hands. We
also had to fit draw-strings to our wind-proof blouses and adjust our
headgear according to our individual fancy, and finally, tobacco and
smokers' requisites would be added to the little bundle, which all packed
up neatly in a pillow-slip. This personal bag served also as a pillow.
CHAPTER VI
SETTLING DOWN TO THE POLAR LIFE
The following members were selected for the depot journey which Captain
Scott elected to lead in person: Wilson, Bowers, Atkinson, Oates,
Cherry-Garrard, Gran, Meares, Ford, Crean, Keohane, and myself. It was
decided to take eight pony-sledges and two dog-sledges, together with
about a ton of pony food, sledging rations, dog biscuit, and paraffin to
a position on the Great Ice Barrier as far south as we could get before
the first winter set in. This decision was arrived at by Scott after
consultation with Oates and others, and, as will be seen by reference to
the list of those chosen for the journey, none of the scientific staff
were included except Wilson himself.
The ponies selected were either those in the best condition or the weaker
beasts which from Oates's viewpoint would hardly survive the rigours of
the winter. Apart from the animals picked for this journey, we had nine
beasts left to be taken care of by the little Russian, Anton, and the
trusty Lashly, whose mechanical knowledge and practical ability were
needed to help get the Base Station going.
On January 3 I was sent on board with all the sledges, including two for
a western geological reconnaissance and a small spare sledge for use in
case of breakdown or accident to the depot-laying people. By this time no
ice remained in the bay north of Cape Evans and the transport out to the
"Terra Nova" had perforce to be done by boat.
I was glad to have this chance of working out the errors and rates of our
chronometer watches, and, although I was up at 5 a.m., I could not resist
having a long yarn, which continued far into the night, with those
never-to-be-forgotten friends of mine, Campbell, Pennell, Rennick, and
Bruce, the worthy and delightful lieutenants of the Expedition. Like
little Bowers, Pennell and Rennick have made the supreme sacrifice, and
only Campbell, Bruce and myself remain alive to-day.
January 24 was a busy day. Captain Scott was fetched from the shore
directly after breakfast, and at 10 a.m. the ship left for Glacier Tongue
to shadow as it were, the string of white Siberian ponies which were
being led round over the fast ice in the bay to the southward of Cape
Evans.
On arriving at the Tongue, Pennell selected a nice, natural wharf to put
his ship alongside, and, this done, I got a picketing line out on the ice
for the horses and then got the sledges on to the glacier. It is as well
here to describe Glacier Tongue briefly, since frequent reference will be
made to that icy promontory in this narrative.
Glacier Tongue lies roughly six miles to the S.S.E. of Cape Evans and is
a remarkable spit of ice jutting out, when last surveyed, for four miles
into McMurdo Sound. Soundings showed that it was afloat for a
considerable part of its length, and as Scott found subsequently, a great
portion of it broke adrift in the autumn or winter of 1911 and was
carried by the winds and currents of the Sound to a position forty miles
W.N.W. of Cape Evans, where it grounded, a huge flat iceberg two miles in
length. Glacier Tongue was an old friend of mine, for it was here in the
1902-4 Relief Expedition that the crew of the little "Morning" dumped
twenty tons of coal for the "Discovery" to pick up on her way northward,
when the time came for her to free herself from the besetting ice which
held her prisoner off Hut Point.
The ponies were marched to their tethering place without further accident
than one falling through into the sea, but he was rescued none the worse.
Oates showed himself to advantage in managing the ponies: he was very
fond of telling us that a horse and a man would go anywhere, and I
believe if we sailor-men had had the bad taste to challenge him he would
have hoisted one of those Chinese ma[1] up to the crow's-nest!
[1: Chinese for horse.]
We all had tea on board and then, after checking the sledge loads and
ascertaining that nothing had been forgotten, the depot party started out
with full loads and marched away from Glacier Tongue for seven miles,
when our first camp was made on the sea ice. To commence with I went with
Meares and No. 1 dog-sledge; the dogs were so eager and excited that they
started by bolting at a breakneck speed and, in spite of all that we
could do, took us over the glacier edge on to the sea ice. The sledge
capsized and both Meares and I were thrown down somewhat forcibly. We
caught the sledge, however, and got the dogs in hand after their initial
energy had been expended. Scott and Wilson managed their dog sledge
better as Meares gave them a quieter team.
It was about nine o'clock when we camped, Meares, Wilson, Scott and I
sharing a tent. Uncle Bill was cook, and I must say the first sledging
supper was delightful.
We went back to Glacier Tongue the next day to relay the fodder and dog
biscuit which was to be depoted. We had brought the provisions for depot
along the eve before. I went in with Meares and Nelson, who had come out
on ski to "speed the parting guest." We had a rare treat all riding in on
the dog sledge at a great pace. Had lunch on board and then Captain Scott
gave us an hour or two to ourselves, for it was the day of farewell
letters, everybody sitting round the ward-room table sucking pens or
pencils, looking very wooden-faced and nonchalant despite the fact that
we were most certainly writing to our nearest and dearest, sending
through our letters an unwritten prayer that we should be spared after
steadfastly performing our alloted tasks with credit to our flag and with
credit to those at whose feet we yearned to lay the laurels we hoped to
win. Even as I wrote my farewell letters Captain Scott, Wilson, Bowers,
and Nelson found time to write to my wife; Scott's letter may well be
included here for it shows his thoughtfulness and consideration:
"_January_, 25, 1911,
Glacier Tongue,
McMurdo Sound.
"Dear Mrs. Evans,--I thought you might be glad to have a note to tell
you how fit and well your good man is looking, his cheery optimism has
already helped me in many difficulties and at the present moment he is
bubbling over with joy at the 'delights' of his first sledge trip.
"He will have told you all the news and the ups and downs of our
history to date, and you will have guessed that he has always met the
misfortunes with a smile and the successes with a cheer, so that very
little remains for me to say--except that I daily grow more grateful
to you for sparing him for this venture. I feel that he is going to be
a great help in every way and that it will go hard if, with so many
good fellows, we should fail in our objects.
"Before concluding I should really like to impress on you how little
cause you have for anxiety. We have had the greatest luck in finding
and establishing our winter quarters, and if I could go shopping
to-morrow I should not know what to buy to add to our comfort. We are
reaping a full reward for all those months of labour in London, in
which your husband took so large a share--if you picture us after
communication is cut off it must be a very bright picture, almost a
scene of constant revelry, with your husband in the foreground amongst
those who are merry and content--I am sure we are going to be a very
happy family and most certainly we shall be healthy and well cared
for.
"With all kind regards and hopes that you will not allow yourself to
be worried till your good man comes safely home again.
"Yours sincerely,
"R. SCOTT."
I said my good-byes after an early tea to the fellows of the "Terra Nova"
and also to the Eastern party, the lieutenants saw me over the side, and
I went away with a big lump in my throat, then Nelson and I took out a
10-ft. sledge with 530 lb. of fodder on it--rather too heavy a load, but
it all helped, and the sea ice surface was none too bad. We did not get
to camp till 10.35 p.m.: Meares, with his usual good-heartedness, came
out from the tent and helped us in for the last miles or so. He had
driven the dogs out with another load after tea time. Uncle Bill had a
fine pemmican supper awaiting us. My job kept me in camp next day to
adjust theodolites, but the rest of the party went out to bring the final
relay of depot stores from the "Terra Nova." During the following days we
relayed the depot stuff along to a position near the edge of the Barrier,
and whilst so engaged most of us found time to visit Hut Point. While
Captain Scott was selecting the position for dumping a quantity of
compressed fodder bales the remainder of the party dug the snow out of
the old hut left by the Discovery in 1904. It looked a very deserted
place, and the difference between the two winter quarters, Hut Point and
Cape Evans, was amazing. One could quite understand the first expedition
here selecting Hut Point for its natural harbour, but for comfort and
freedom from unwelcome squalls and unpleasant gusts of wind commend me to
Cape Evans. Never in my life had I seen anything quite so dreary and
desolate as this locality. Practically surrounded by high hills, little
sunshine could get to the hut, which was built in a hollow. Of course, we
saw the place at its worst, for the best summer months had passed. The
hut itself had been erected as a magnetic observatory and it contrasted
shabbily with our 50-ft by 25-ft. palace. We did not finish clearing the
snow away, although with so many willing workers we made considerable
progress. In parts the midsummer sun had melted the snow, which in turn
had re-frozen into blue ice, and this we found troublesome because the
slender woodwork of the hut would not stand any heavy pick work.
We christened the place on the Barrier edge Fodder Camp, and it was the
general opinion that we could risk leaving the bales of hay here until
the depot stuff had been taken south. Accordingly, all the more important
stores were relayed on January 29 to a position two miles in from the
Barrier edge. Whilst doing this relay work I went in with Meares to Hut
Point to bring out some 250 lb. of dog biscuit, and our dogs, being very
fresh, scented a seal, took charge of the light sledge, and, in spite of
all the brakeing and obstructing Meares and I put up, the dogs went
wildly forward until they reached the seal. The second they came to it
Meares and I found ourselves in the midst of a snapping, snarling, and
biting mixture, with the poor seal floundering underneath. While we were
beating the dogs off the seal bit Meares in the leg; he looked awfully
surprised and showed great forbearance in not giving the seal one for
himself with the iron-shod brake stick. I never saw anybody less vicious
in nature than "Mother" Meares: he never knocked the dogs about unless it
was absolutely necessary. Even Osman, the wild wolf-like king-dog, showed
affection for him.
Whilst moving the sledging stores to Safety Camp, as we called the depot,
two miles in, we came across two tents left by Shackleton two or three
years before. They contained a few stores and a Primus stove, which
proved to be most useful later on. On January 30 and 31 we completed the
depot at Safety Camp and then reorganised the depot party, owing to
Atkinson's developing a very sore heel, which made it impossible for him
to accompany us. It did not matter very much, because we had heaps of
people to work the depot-laying journey, only it meant a disappointment
for Atkinson, which he took to heart very much. The question of sledging
experience made us wish to have Atkinson on this trip, but he gained it a
few weeks later. Accordingly, I took over Crean's pony, Blossom, whilst
he took charge of our sick man and returned with him to Hut Point. Scott
himself took Atkinson's pony, and on the 2nd February the caravan
proceeded in an E.S.E. direction to make for a point in approximately 78
degrees S. 169 degrees E. Most of the ponies had 600 lb. leads on their
sledges, Meare's dog team 750, and Wilson's 600. We found the surface
very bad, most of the ponies sinking deep in the snow. After doing
roughly five miles we halted and had a meal. Oates was called into our
tent and consulted with a view to bettering the conditions for the
ponies. As a result it was decided to march by night and rest during the
day when the sun would be higher and the air warmer. There was quite a
drop in the temperature between noon and midnight, and it was natural to
suppose that we should get better and harder surfaces with the sun at its
lower altitude. We still, of course, had the sun above the horizon for
the full twenty-four hours, and should have for three weeks yet; the
choice was altogether a wise one and we therefore turned in during the
afternoon and remained in our sleeping-bags until 10 p.m. when we arose
and cooked our breakfast.
Camp was broken at midnight and the march resumed. For three hours we
plodded along, a little leg weary perhaps, on account of the unusual time
for marching and working physically. We had lunch about 3 a.m. and rested
the ponies for a couple of hours. The surface was still very bad, the
ponies labouring heavily, and my own animal, Blossom, suffered through
his hoofs being very small, so that he sank into the snow far more than
did the other horses. It was on his account that we only covered nine
miles. I did some surveying work after our 7.30 a.m. supper and turned in
at 10 o'clock until 7 p.m. Captain Scott took over cook in our tent and
made the breakfast.
For the next few days we continued marching over the Great Ice Barrier,
the distances covered depending on the condition of Blossom and another
pony, Blücher. Both of these animals caused anxiety from the start, and,
owing to their weakness the depot-laying distances scarcely exceeded ten
miles daily. There is nothing to be gained from a long description of
this autumn journey, it was merely a record of patiently trudging and of
carefully watching over the ponies. Generally speaking, the weather was
not in our favour, the sky being frequently overcast, and we experienced
an unpleasant amount of low drift.
February 5 and 6 were blizzard days during which no move could be made,
and it was not until nearly 11 p.m. on the 7th that the hard wind took
off and the snow ceased to drift about us. The blizzards were not serious
but were quite sufficient to try the ponies severely--Blossom, Blücher,
and a third animal, James Pigg, could in no way keep up with the van,
although their loads were lightened considerably. The bluejackets, Forde
and Keohane, showed extraordinary aptitude in handling the ponies, but in
spite of their efforts their animals were quite done up by February 12,
as also was poor old Blossom. It would have been cruel to continue with
them, they were so wasted, and even their eyes were dull and lustreless.
Accordingly, Scott decided to send Blücher, James Pigg, and Blossom back
with Forde, Keohane, and myself. A reorganisation was made near the 79th
parallel, and whilst the main party proceeded southward, Forde, Keohane,
and I took our feeble ponies northward with the intention of getting them
home to Hut Point before the temperature fell, until the cold would be
too great for them to stand. It was annoying for me to be sent back,
still there was plenty of survey work to be done between the
turning-point and Safety Camp. Blücher failed from the start and lay down
in the snow directly the depot party left us. Forde lifted him up, but
his legs were limp and would not support him. We rubbed the poor pony's
legs and did what we could for him, poor old Forde being practically in
tears over the little beast. To give one an idea of this wretched
animal's condition, when it was decided to kill him for humanity's sake
and his throat was cut by Keohane with a sailor's knife, there was hardly
any blood to let out. It was a rotten day for all three of us, blowing
too hard to travel until very late, and a second pony, Blossom, was doing
his best to die. We made some little way homeward, Keohane, James Pigg
and myself pulling the sledge with our gear on it, and Forde lifting,
carrying, and pushing Blossom along. I felt I ought to kill this animal
but I knew how angry and disappointed Scott would be at the loss, so kept
him going although he showed so much distress. It was surprising what
spirit the little brute had: if we started to march away Blossom
staggered along after us, looking like a spectre against the white
background of snow. We kept on giving him up and making to kill him, but
he actually struggled on for over thirty miles before falling down and
dying in his tracks. We built a snow-cairn over him and planted what pony
food we had no further use for on the top of the cairn.
The third pony, James Pigg, was kept fit and snug under a big snow-wall
whenever we were not marching, and he won home to Safety Camp with very
little trouble, frequently covering distances equal to our own marching
capability. Once Safety Camp had been regained we got good weather again
and James Pigg became quite frisky, ate all that we could give him, and,
to our delight, his eyes regained their brightness and he began to put on
flesh.
We spent a couple of days at Safety Camp before Captain Scott returned
with the dog teams. In order to cut off corners he shaved things rather
fine, and getting rather too close to White Island, the dog teams ran
along the snow-bridge of a crevasse, the bridge subsided, and all the
dogs of Scott's and Meares's sledge, with the exception of Osman, the
leader, and the two rear animals, disappeared into a yawning chasm. Scott
and Meares secured their sledge clear of the snow bridge and with the
assistance of their companions, Wilson and Cherry-Garrard, who had the
other team, they were lowered by means of an Alpine rope into the
crevasse until they could get at the dogs. They, found the poor animals
swinging round, snapping at one another and howling dismally, but in an
awful tangle. The dogs were rescued a pair at a time and, fortunately for
all concerned, they lay down and rested when hauled up to the surface by
Uncle Bill and "Cherry." When all the animals were up and Scott and
Meares themselves had regained safety, a dog fight took place between the
two teams. Apart from this excitement things had gone very well. Scott
was most enthusiastic about the capabilities of Meares's dogs, and he
then expressed an opinion that he would probably run the dogs light on
the Polar journey and do the final plateau march to the Pole itself with
them. What a pity he didn't! Had he done so he might have been alive
to-day.
We learnt from the dog-drivers that the depot had been established in 79
degrees 30 minutes S. 169 degrees E., practically one hundred and fifty
miles distant from the base, and here a ton or so of sledging stores
awaited us preparatory for the great sledge journey to the Pole.
Bowers, Oates, and Gran had been left to build up the depot and lead back
the other five ponies with their empty sledges. We waited for them at
Safety Camp before transporting some of the stuff we had left here out to
Corner Camp, the position thirty-five miles E.S.E. of Safety Camp, where
the crevasses ended. Some of us went into Hut Point to see if the ship
had been there with any message. Little did we dream whilst we sauntered
in over the ice of the news that awaited us. We found that the "Terra
Nova" had been there the day before Atkinson and Crean had got there; she
had also made a second visit on the 9th or 10th February, bringing the
unwelcome news that Amundsen's expedition had been met with in the Bay of
Whales. The "Terra Nova" had entered the bay and found the "Fram" there
with the Norwegians working like ants unloading their stores and
hut-building in rather a dangerous position quite close to the Barrier
edge. Amundsen's people had about 120 dogs and a hard lot of men, mostly
expert ski-runners. They were contemplating an early summer journey to
the Pole and not proposing to attempt serious scientific work of any
sort. Further, to our chagrin, the eastern party had not effected a
landing, for Campbell realised that it would be profitless to set up his
base alongside that of the Norwegians.
The ice conditions about King Edward VII. Land had been found
insuperable, great masses of land ice barring the way to their objective,
and so poor Campbell and his mates left news that they were reluctantly
seeking a landing elsewhere. We spent a very unhappy night, in spite of
all attempts to be cheerful. Clearly, there was nothing for us but to
abandon science and go for the Pole directly the season for sledging was
advanced enough to make travelling possible after the winter. It now
became a question of dogs versus ponies, for the main bulk of our stuff
must of necessity be pony-drawn unless we could rely on the motor
sledges--nobody believed we could. However, all the arguing in the world
wouldn't push Amundsen and his dogs off the Antarctic continent and we
had to put the best face on our disappointment. Captain Scott took it
very bravely, better than any of us, I think, for he had done already
such wonderful work down here. It was he who initiated and founded
Antarctic sledge travelling, it was he who had blazed the trail, as it
were, and we were very very sorry for him, for such news, such a menace,
could hardly be expected to give him a happy winter.
Scott did the best thing under the circumstances: he set us all to work
on the 23rd February to get out three weeks' men provisions for eight men
from the stores at Safety Camp, and these collected and packed, he,
Cherry-Garrard, and Crean took a 10-ft. sledge, and Forde, Atkinson, and
myself a 12-ft. one, while Keohane and James Pigg pulled another big
sledge containing oats and paraffin, and we all set out in a bunch for
Corner Camp, thirty odd miles away. All this depot work meant an easy
start next season, since the transport of great loads over sea ice and
the deep, soft snow, which is usually encountered when first getting on
to the Barrier hereabouts, would strain the ponies' legs and break the
hearts of the dogs. Scott thought all this out and certainly overcame
preliminary difficulties by getting so much pony food, provision, and
paraffin out to One Ton Camp and Corner Camp. He felt the benefit next
springtime. This second little run out is not worth describing; we
sighted Bowers's party coming back with the five ponies whilst we were
camped one night, and we noted that they were travelling very quickly,
which proved all was well with these animals.
On arrival at Corner Camp Scott left us in order to get back and see the
five ponies safely conducted to Hut Point. He instructed me to make easy
marches with our friend James Pigg as there was no further work for him
this season. Cherry-Garrard and Crean accompanied Scott, and the three
pushed on at their utmost for blizzard weather had come again and the
snow fall was considerable.
We must now follow Captain Scott's and Bowers's party, who, in
conjunction, engaged on the problem of getting five ponies and two dog
teams to Hut Point. There did not seem to be anything in doing this, but
if ever a man's footsteps were dogged by misfortune, they surely were our
leader's.
Scott sent Cherry-Garrard and Crean with Bowers and four ponies across
the sea ice from the Barrier edge to reach Hut Point on March 1. He
himself had remained with Oates and Gran to tend the pony Weary Willie, a
gutless creature compared to the others, which was showing signs of
failing. Weary Willie died for no apparent reason, unless his loss of
condition was due to the blizzards we encountered on the depot journey.
Bowers and Co. made a good start, but the ponies they had were
undoubtedly tired and listless after their hard journey, they were also
in bad condition and frequently had to be rested. When they had advanced
some way towards Hut Point over good strong sea ice, cracks became
apparent and a slight swell showed Bowers that the sea ice was actually
on the move. Directly this was appreciated his party turned and hastened
back, but the ice was drifting out to sea. The ponies behaved splendidly,
jumping the ever widening cracks with extraordinary sagacity, whilst
Bowers and his two companions launched the sledges over the water spaces
in order not to risk the ponies' legs. Eventually they reached what
looked like a safe place and, since men and ponies were thoroughly
exhausted, camp was pitched and the weary party soon fell asleep, but at
4.30 the next morning Bowers awoke hearing a strange noise. He opened the
tent and found the party in a dreadful plight--the ice had again
commenced to break up and they were surrounded by water. One of the
ponies had disappeared into the sea. Camp was again struck and for five
hours this plucky little party fought their way over three-quarters of a
mile of drifting ice. They never for an instant thought of abandoning
their charge, realising that Scott's Polar plans would in all probability
be ruined if four more ponies were lost with their sledges and equipment.
Crean, with great gallantry, went for support, clambering with difficulty
over the ice. He jumped from floe to floe and at last climbed up the face
of the Barrier from a piece of ice which swung round in the tideway and
just touched the ice cliff at the right moment. Cherry-Garrard stayed
with Bowers at his request, for this undaunted little seaman would never
give up his charge while a gleam of hope remained.
For a whole day these two were afloat on a floe about 150 ft. square, all
the ice around was broken up into similar floes, which were rising and
falling at least a foot to the heavy swell. A moderate breeze was blowing
from the eastward, and nothing was visible above the haze and frost smoke
except the tops of two islands named White and Black Islands, and the
hills around Hut Point. Whilst Crean was clambering over bits of ice and
jumping by means of connecting pieces from one big floe to another, his
progress was watched by Bowers through the telescope of a theodolite. One
can gather how delighted Bowers must have been to see Crean eventually
high up on the Barrier in the distance, for it meant that he would
communicate with Captain Scott, whose intelligent, quick grasp, in
emergency would surely result in Gran being despatched on ski over to
Cape Evans, for he alone could do this. Once there, a boat could have
been launched and the floe party rescued. Bowers's satisfaction was
short-lived, however, since Killer whales were noticed cruising amongst
the loose ice, and these soon became numerous, some of them actually
inspecting the floe by poking their noses up and taking an almost
perpendicular position in the water, when their heads would be raised
right above the floe edge. The situation looked dangerous, for the whales
were evidently after the ponies. The wind fell light as the day
progressed and the swell decreased and vanished altogether. This
fortunately resulted in the floes closing near to the Barrier, and the
open water spaces decreased then to such a degree that the party were
able to bridge the cracks by using their sledges until they worked the
whole of their equipment up to the Barrier face, where Bowers and
Cherry-Garrard were rescued by Scott, Oates, Gran, and Crean. After a
further piece of manoeuvring a pony and all the sledges were recovered,
the three other ponies were drowned. Only those who have served in the
Antarctic can realise fully what Bowers's party and also Scott's own
rescue party went through.
The incident which terminated in the loss of three more of our ponies
cast a temporary gloom over the depot party when we reassembled in the
safety of the old ramshackle magnetic lean-to at Hut Point. I use the
word lean-to because one could hardly describe it as a hut, for the
building was with out insulation, snow filled the space between ceiling
and roof, and whenever a fire was kindled or heat generated, water
dripped down in steady pit-a-pat until there was no dry floor space worth
the name.
It might be interesting to touch on the experiences of our friend James
Pigg, for this pony can only be described as a quaint but friendly little
rogue. He and Keohane seemed to have their own jokes apart from us. We
were left to ourselves on the 27th February, while Scott, as stated,
pushed forward to Safety Camp, "we," meaning Atkinson, Forde, Keohane,
and myself. We were kept in camp on the 27th by a strong blizzard, and
the next day when the weather abated, during our forenoon march James
Pigg fell into a crevasse, quite a small one, and his girth, through so
much high feeding, jammed him by his stomach and prevented him falling
far down. The whole situation was ridiculous. We parbuckled him out by
means of the Alpine rope, which was quickly detached from the sledge,
James Pigg taking a lively interest in the proceedings, and finally
rolling over on his back and kicking himself to his feet as we four
dragged him up to the surface. This done, Keohane looking very Irish and
smiling, bent over and peered down into the bluey depths of the crevasse
and, to our intense amusement, James Pigg strolled over alongside of him
and hung his head down too. He then turned to Keohane, who patted his
nose and said, "That was a near shave for you, James Pigg!"
We got to Safety Camp on the evening of March 1 and found two notes from
Captain Scott directing us to make for Hut Point via Castle Rock, and
notifying us that the sea ice was all on the move. We had an interesting
climb next day, but a very difficult one, for we were on the go from 9
a.m. until after 11 that night. First we found our way over the Barrier
Ice to the foot of the slope leading up to the ice ridge northward of
Castle Rock. Here we tethered James Pigg and spent some hours getting our
gear and sledges up the slope. We had no crampons for this work as they
were all on Scott's own sledge, so that it was necessary at times to pull
up the slopes on hands and knees, assisted by our ski sticks, an unusual
procedure but the only one possible to employ on the steeper blue ice. We
took the sledges up one by one and then went down with an Alpine rope to
help James Pigg. We found the pony very bored at our long absence; he
neighed and whinnied when we came down to him, and, to our great
surprise, went up the long, steep slope with far greater ease than we did
ourselves.
It was out of the question for us to proceed the four and a half miles
along the ridges which led down to Hut Point, for darkness had set in and
we had no wish to repeat the performance of an earlier expedition when a
man lost his life hereabouts through slipping right over one of these
steep slopes into the sea on the western side of the promontory ridge
which terminates at Hut Point.
It was snowing when we turned in and still snowing on March 3 when we
turned out of our sleeping-bags. James Pigg, quite snug, clothed in his
own, Blossom's, and Blücher's rugs, had a little horseshoe shelter built
up round him. We did not know at this time of the pony disaster, but,
thinking Captain Scott might be anxious if he got no word as to our
whereabouts or movements, Atkinson and I started to march along the ice
ridges of Castle Rock and make our way to Hut Point. It was blowing hard
and very cold, but the joy of walking on firm ice without a sledge to
drag was great. When finally we came to the old "Discovery" hut at lunch
time, we found Wilson, Meares, and Gran in very low spirits. They told us
that Bowers and Cherry-Garrard were adrift on an ice floe and the
remainder of the party had gone to the rescue along the Barrier edge. We
were much downcast by this news, and after a meal of biscuit and tea,
started back for our camp. The weather was now clearer, and we could see
some way out over the Barrier; we could also see the sea looking very
blue against the white expanse of ice.
On the way back we discussed a plan and arranged that we should leave
Keohane with the pony, take a sledge, and make our way along the ice edge
of the Barrier searching for Scott and joining up with him, but just
before descending to the hollow where our tent was we spied a sledge
party on the Barrier and, on reaching our camp, were delighted to see
through my telescope six men. Thank God! This meant that all were safe.
We went out to meet the party, reaching them about 8 p.m. where they had
camped, a couple of miles from Cape Armitage, between two pressure ridges
that formed great frozen waves. Bowers told me that when Scott's party
attempted to save the horses at the Barrier edge, rotten ice and open
water leads were the cause of their downfall, and when the horses slipped
into the sea, that he had been compelled to kill his own pony with a
pickaxe to save him being taken alive by one of the Orcas or Killer
whales. The only horse saved was Captain Scott's, one of the best we had
in that Expedition.
I think the Irish sailors must have spoilt James Pigg, for, when
eventually we got Scott's sledge loads up to the hill-crest where our
camp was, James Pigg, instead of welcoming the other pony, broke adrift,
and jumping into the new-comer's shelter, leapt on him, kicked him and
bit him in the back. On March 5 we all started for Hut Point, having
previously sent in Atkinson with the good news that no men's lives were
lost. Wilson and party met us near Castle Rock and led the ponies in
while we dropped the laden sledges, full of pony harness, tents, and
sledging gear, with a sufficiency of pony fodder for a fortnight, down
the ski-slope to Hut Point. It was a fine bit of toboganning and Captain
Scott showed himself to be far more expert than any of us in controlling
a sledge on a slippery slope.
We soon got into the way of climbing around on seemingly impossible
slopes and could negotiate the steepest of hills and the slipperiest of
steep inclines. It was largely a question of good crampons, which we
fortunately possessed.
The month of March and the first half of April, 1911, proved to be the
most profitless and unsatisfactory part of the Expedition. This was due
to a long compulsory wait at Hut Point, for we could not cross the
fifteen miles that lay between our position there and the Cape Evans
Station until sea ice had formed, which could be counted on not to break
away and take us into the Ross Sea in its northward drift. Time after
time the sea froze over to a depth of a foot or even more and time and
again we made ready to start for Cape Evans to find that on the day of
departure the ice had all broken and drifted out of sight. As it was, we
were safely, if not comfortably, housed at Hut Point, with the two dog
teams and the two remaining ponies, existing in rather primitive fashion
with seal meat for our principal diet. By the end of the first week in
March we had converted the veranda, which ran round three sides of the
old magnetic hut, into dog and pony shelters, two inner compartments were
screened off by bulkheads made of biscuit cases, a cook's table was
somehow fashioned and a reliable stove erected out of petrol tins and
scrap-iron. Our engineers in this work of art were Oates and Meares. For
a short while we burnt wood in the stove, but the day soon came when seal
blubber was substituted, and the heat from the burning grease was
sufficient to cook any kind of dish likely to be available, and also to
heat the hut after a fashion.
Round the stove we built up benches to sit on for meals, and two sleeping
spaces were chosen and made snug by using felt, of which a quantity had
been left by Scott's or Shackleton's people. The "Soldier" and Meares
unearthed same fire bricks and a stove pipe from the debris heap outside
the hut and then we were spared the great discomfort of being smoked out
whenever a fire was lit. An awning left by the "Discovery" was fixed up
by several of us around the sleeping and cooking space, and although
rather short of luxuries such as sugar and flour, we were never in any
great want of good plain food.
On March 14 the depot party was joined by Griffith Taylor, Debenham,
Wright, and Petty Officer Evans.
Taylor's team had been landed by the "Terra Nova" on January 27, after
the start of the depot party, to make a geological reconnaissance. In the
course of their journeying they had traversed the Ferrar Glacier and then
come down a new glacier, which Scott named after Taylor, and descended
into Dry Valley, so called because it was entirely free from snow.
Taylor's way had led him and his party over a deep fresh-water lake, four
miles long, which was only surface frozen--this lake was full of algae.
The gravels below a promising region of limestones rich in garnets were
washed for gold, but only magnetite was found. When Taylor had thoroughly
explored and examined the region of the glaciers to the westward of Cape
Evans, his party retraced their footsteps and proceeded southward to
examine the Koettlitz Glacier. Scott had purposely sent Seaman Evans with
this party of geologists, reasoning with his usual thoughtfulness that
Evans's sledging experience would be invaluable to Taylor and his
companions.
Taylor and his party made wonderful maps and had a wonderful store of
names, which they bestowed upon peak, pinnacle, and pool to fix in their
memories the relative positions of the things they saw. Griffith Taylor
had a remarkable gift of description, and his Antarctic book, "The Silver
Lining," contains some fine anecdotes and narrative.
According to Taylor's chart the Koettlitz Glacier at its outflow on to
the Great Ice Barrier is at least ten miles wide. The party proceeded
along the north of the glacier for a considerable distance, sketching,
surveying, photographing, and making copious notes of the geological and
physiographical conditions in the neighbourhood, and one may say
fearlessly that no Antarctic expedition ever sailed yet with geologists
and physicists who made better use of the time at their disposal,
especially whilst doing field work.
This party hung on with their exploration work until prudence told them
that they must return from the Koettlitz Glacier before the season closed
in. Their return trip led them along the edge of the almost impenetrable
pinnacle of ice which is one of the wonders of the Antarctic. Their
journey led them also through extraordinary and difficult ice-fields that
even surprised the veteran sledger Evans. Their final march took them
along the edge of the Great Ice Barrier and brought them to Hut Point on
March 14.
We now numbered sixteen at this congested station; the sun was very
little above the horizon and gales were so bad that spray dashed over the
small hut occasionally, whilst all round the low-lying parts of the coast
wonderful spray ridges of ice were formed. We had our proportion of
blizzard days and suffered somewhat from the cold, for it was rarely
calm. Some of us began to long for the greater comforts of the Cape Evans
Hut; there was no day, no hour in fact, when some one did not climb up
the hillock which was surmounted by the little wooden cross put up in
memory of Seaman Vince of the "Discovery" expedition, to see and note the
ice conditions.
Winter was coming fast and night shadows of cruel dark purple added to
the natural gloom of Hut Point and its environments. Wilson was the one
man amongst us who profited most from our sojourn here. In spite of bad
light and almost frozen fingers he managed to make an astonishing
collection of sketches, portraying the autumn scenes near this corner of
Ross Isle. How sinister and relentless the western mountains looked, how
cold and unforgiving the foothills, and how ashy gray the sullen icefoots
that girt this sad, frozen land.
There was, of course, no privacy in the crowded hut-space, and when
evening came it was sometimes rather a relief to get away to some
sheltered corner and look out over the Sound. The twilight shades and
colours were beautiful in a sad sort of way, but the stillness was awful.
Whenever the wind fell light new ice would form which seemed to crack and
be churned up with every cat's-paw of wind. The currents and tidal
streams would slowly carry these pancakes of ice up and down the Strait
until the weather was calm enough and cold enough to cement them together
till they formed floes, which in their turn froze fast into great white
icefields strong enough to bear us and any weights we liked to take
along. One often turned in, confident that a passage could be made over
the frozen sea to Glacier Tongue at least, but in the morning everything
would be changed and absolutely no ice would be visible floating in the
sea. When Taylor's party had rested a little at Hut Point they threw in
their lot with the rest of us and made occasional trips out on the silent
Barrier as far as Corner Camp, to add sledge loads of provisions now and
again to the stores already depoted there in readiness for the southern
sledge journey, on which we built our hopes for ultimate triumph.
Eight of us went out for a week's sledging on March 16, but the
temperatures were now becoming too low to be pleasant and touching 40
degrees or so below zero. What tried us more than anything else was thick
weather and the fearfully bad light on days when no landmarks were
visible to guide us to the depot. Our sleeping-bags also were frozen and
uncomfortable, thick rime collecting on the insides of our tents which
every puff of wind would shake down in a shower of ice. When sitting
round on our rolled-up sleeping-bags at meal times we could not help our
heads and shoulders brushing off patches of this frost rime, which soon
accumulated in the fur of the sleeping-bags and made life at night a
clammy misery. The surfaces were very heavy, and dragging even light
sledges when returning from the depot proved a laborious business.
This autumn time gave a series of gales and strong winds with scarcely
ever more than a few hours of calm or gentle breeze, sandwiched in
between. Sometimes we used ski, but there are occasions when ski are
quite useless, owing to snow binding in great clogs underneath them. The
Norwegians use different kinds of paraffin wax and compositions of tar
and other ingredients for overcoming this difficulty. Gran had brought
from Christiania the best of these compositions, nevertheless there were
days when whatever we put on we had difficulty with ski and had to cast
them aside. There were people who preferred foot-slogging to ski at any
time, and there were certainly days when teams on foot would literally
dance round men pulling on ski. In the light of experience, however, the
expert ski-runner has enormous advantage over the "foot-slogger," however
good an athlete.
What strikes me here is the dreadful similarity in weather condition,
wind, temperature, etc., surface and visibility to that which culminated
in the great disaster of our expedition and resulted in poor Scott's
death exactly a year later. Here is a day taken haphazard from my diary:
"From Corner Camp to Hut Point:
"March 18, 1911.--Called the hands at 6.15 and after a fine warming
breakfast started off on ski. The light was simply awful and the
surface very bad, but we did six miles, then lunched. After lunch
carried on with a strong wind blowing, but after very heavy dragging
we were forced to camp when only nine and a half miles had been laid
between us--we really couldn't see ten yards. Just after we camped the
wind increased to about force 6, alternately freshening up and dying
away, and a good deal of snow fell. Temperature 32.5 below zero."
One year later Scott was facing weather conditions and surfaces almost
identical, but the difference lay in that he had marched more than
sixteen hundred miles, was short of food, and his party were suffering
from the tragic loss of two of their companions and the intense
disappointment of having made this great sledge journey for their
country's honour to find that all their efforts had been in vain, and
that they had been anticipated by men who had borne thither the flag of
another nation.
When Scott found that we sledgers were getting temperatures as low as
minus forty he decided to discontinue sledging rather than risk anything
in the nature of severe frostbite assailing the party and rendering them
unfit for further work, for it must be remembered that we had already
been away from our base ten weeks, that many of us had never sledged
before, and that the depot journey was partly undertaken to give us
sledging experience and to point out what improvements could be made in
our clothing and equipment.
The first and second weeks in April brought the ice changes that we had
so long awaited, and after one or two false starts two teams set out from
Hut Point on April 11 to make their way across the fifteen miles of sea
ice to Cape Evans.
This turned out to be a somewhat hazardous journey, since it had to be
made in the half light with overcast weather and hard wind. Scott took
charge of one tent and had with him Bowers, Griffith Taylor, and Petty
Officer Evans, while I had in my party Wright, Debenham, Gran, and Crean.
The seven who remained at Hut Point in charge of dogs and ponies helped
us out a league or so for the first part of our journey.
The route led first up the steep ice slope over-hanging Hut Point, and
then to the summit of the ridge, which is best described as the Castle
Rock promontory. Our sojourn at Hut Point had given us plenty of chance
to learn the easier snow roads and the least dangerous, and Scott chose
the way close eastward of Castle Rock to a position four miles beyond it,
which his first expedition had named Hutton Cliffs. From Castle Rock
onward the way took us to the westward of two conical hills which were
well-known landmarks--a hitherto untrodden route--but the going was by no
means bad. Bitingly cold for faces and finger-tips, still, no weights to
impede us. We camped for lunch after covering seven miles, for the light
was bad, but it improved surprisingly whilst we were eating our meal.
Accordingly, we put on our crampons about 3 p.m. and struck camp,
securely packing the two green tents on the sledges, and casting a
careful eye round the loads, tightened a strap here, hitched there, and
then led by Scott we made a careful descent to the precipitous edge of
the ice cap which overlays the promontory. We got well down to a part
that seemed to overhang the sea and, to our delight, found a good
solid-looking ice-sheet below us which certainly extended as far as
Glacier Tongue. The drop here was twenty-five feet or so and Taylor and I
were lowered over the cornice in an Alpine rope, then Wright and then the
sledges, after that the remainder of the party. An ash-pole was driven
into the snow and the last few members sent down in a bowline at one end
of the rope whilst we below eased them down with the other part. The two
parts of the Alpine rope working round the pole cut deeply into the
over-hanging snow and brought a shower of ice crystals pouring over the
heads and shoulders of whoever was sitting in the bowline. It was a good
piece of work getting everything down safely, and I admired Scott's
decision to go over; a more nervous man would have fought shy because,
once down on the sea ice there was little chance of our getting back and
we had got to fight our way forward to Cape Evans somehow.
When Taylor and I got first down we were greeted with a weird and
wonderful sight: constant drifts of snow had formed a great overhang and
the ice cliff was wreathed in a mass of snowy curtains and folds which
took all manner of fantastic turns and shapes. A fresh wind was blowing
continuously that made it most unpleasant for those above, and it was a
relief to us all when the last man was passed down in safety, it was
Scott himself.
We quickly harnessed up again and swung out over the sea ice towards
Glacier Tongue, the cliffs of which stood out in a hard, white line to
the northward, a couple of miles away. Arrived at the Tongue, Bowers and
I clambered up a ten-foot cliff face by standing on Wright's and Crean's
shoulders. We then reached down and hauled up the sledges and the others,
harnessed up again, and proceeded to cross the Glacier, which was full of
small crevasses. We reached the northern side of it and went down an easy
snow slope to the sea ice beyond. As far as one could see this ice
continued right up to and around Cape Evans, seven miles away to the N.W.
It was now 6.30 p.m.; Scott halted us and discussed our readiness to make
a night march into the winter quarters. There was not one dissentient
voice, and we gladly started off at 8 o'clock for a night march to our
snug and comfortable hut, picturing to ourselves a supper of all things
luxurious. Our feet seemed suddenly to have taken wings, but, alas, the
supper was not to be, for thick weather set in, and when, by 10 o'clock
the wind was blowing hard and it was pitch dark, Scott suddenly decided
to camp under the shelter of Little Razorback Island, where by that time
we had arrived. We passed a filthy night here, for the snow on the sea
ice was saturated with brine and, in no time, our sleeping-bags became
wet and sticky.
Next day we were called at six to find a blizzard with a high drift
making it impossible to move, so we remained in our bags until 4 p.m.,
when we shifted on to the narrow platform of rock situated on the south
side of Little Razorback. We had one small meal here, but our condition
was not a pleasant one, since little food remained and fuel was short.
There was undoubtedly a chance that the sea ice would break up and drift
away in this high wind. Had that happened we should have been left to
starve on the tiny island. The position was not an enviable one. We got
back into our bags, which were, as stated, wet and beastly, after a
scanty supper and tried to sleep, but our feet were wet too, and cold, so
that few of us could do more than close our eyes. The night passed slowly
enough, and we turned out at 7 a.m. to cook what remained of our food
before attempting to make Cape Evans. We were glad that it had stopped
snowing and, although the light was bad enough, we could just make out
the ice foot showing up bold and white on the south side of the Cape.
After the meal we struck camp, formed marching order, and started half
running for winter quarters. Covering a couple of miles we found, to our
great relief, that the fast ice not only extended up to the Cape but
right round into North Bay. We soon sighted the hut, and shortly after
saw some people working outside. Directly they saw us in they ran to
bring the others out at full speed, and coming to meet us they cheered
and greeted us, then hauled our sledges in. It appeared they were unable
to recognise any of us owing to our dirty and dishevelled state. This was
not to be wondered at, for we had not washed nor had we shaved for eighty
days: We all talked hard and exchanged news. Ponting lined us up to be
photographed--the first nine Bolshevists--we looked such awful
blackguards.
Now, April 13, 1911, as communication had been established between Hut
Point and Cape Evans, we settled down for the winter. I shall never
forget the breakfast that Clissold prepared for us at 10.30 that morning.
It was delicious--hot rolls, heaps of butter, milk, sugar, jam, a fine
plate of tomato soup, and fried seal cooked superbly. The meal over, we
shaved, bathed, and put on clean clothes, smoked cigarettes, and took a
day's holiday. At 10 o'clock that evening, by prearrangement, Very's
lights were fired to let them know at Hut Point of our safe arrival. Our
own signal was answered by a flare. Gramophone records were dug out and
we lazily listened to Melba singing and to musical comedy tunes, those
who had energy and sufficient inclination got the pianola going, and
finally each man unfolded his little story to another member of the
Expedition who had taken no part in the sledging.
Captain Scott was delighted at the progress made by those left in our hut
under Dr. Simpson, everything was in order, the scientific programme in
full swing, and nothing in the shape of bad news beyond the loss of an
ill-tempered pony called Hackenschmidt, and one more dog that appeared to
have died from a peculiar disease--a minute thread-worm getting to his
brain, this according to Nelson who had conducted the post-mortem.
CHAPTER VII
ARRANGEMENTS FOR THE WINTER
Less than a fortnight from the day of our return to Cape Evans, on April
23 to be exact, the sun left us to remain below the horizon for four long
weary months. Of course, there was a considerable amount of twilight, and
even on midwinter's day at noon there was some gray light in the north.
Different people took the winter in different fashion, according to their
temperaments. There were some who never could have faced a second winter
with any degree of cheerfulness, but taking it all round, we did well
enough, and when summer came again our concrete keenness and zeal had not
one whit abated. That is especially true in the case of those who were
chosen to make the great journey southward, even though it was obvious
that certain members could only accompany their leader for a mere
fraction of the great white way.
During the four months' winter darkness each one occupied himself with
his special subject, and Dr. Wilson not only proved himself to be an
efficient chief of our scientific staff, but a sound friend and companion
to the executive members, Bowers, Oates, Meares, and myself. Uncle Bill
was our Solomon and it was to him that we all went for sympathy and
practical advice. It was to him the staff went, that is to say, the
officers and scientists, for the smoothing over of those little
difficulties, roughnesses, and unevennesses that were bound to arrive
from time to time during the course of winter. The sailors came more to
Bowers, Oates, and myself, for, in their conservative naval way, they
could never quite get over the fact that the hut was not a ship and that
there were other members who, although they had never come under any sort
of naval or military discipline, were men of greater age and experience
in fending for themselves than youngsters like Bowers and myself. Still,
things went beautifully, and so they should have, when one considers the
great care our leader had exercised in the selection of his personnel.
If Scott had had his choice again and if he had been allowed to select
from the whole world, one can say without hesitation he would have chosen
Wilson to captain our splendid scientific team and to be his human book
of reference. Wilson was more nearly Scott's own age than the other
important members of this enterprise, and Wilson, it must be remembered,
had pulled shoulder to shoulder with Scott on his southern sledge journey
in 1902-3.
Before taking a peep at the individuals forming the rest of our party and
at their delicate scientific work at the base station, I must not forget
to mention that Scott, with his indomitable energy, was away again four
days after his return to Cape Evans with Bowers, Crean, and five fresh
men to Hut Point for the dual purpose of replenishing that station with
fuel, lighting material, etc., and getting those who should be at Cape
Evans for certain work and duty back there. Scott returned by the way we
had come, i.e. the Glacier Tongue-Castle Rock route, and then left the
dog-boy with Meares to take charge of these animals, Lashly and Keohane
to nurse and exercise the two ponies, and Nelson and Forde to get into
the way of winter roughing it, besides which he left Day over at Hut
Point, where his clever fingers found plenty to do to ameliorate the
condition of those living there. Day had learnt much under Shackleton in
these parts, and by some of us he was nicknamed "Handy Andy." Meares was
now appointed "Governor of Hut Point." As a matter of fact he and his
dogs were better off here than at Cape Evans, because the dogs could use
the big sheltered verandas already mentioned, whereas they had no such
shelter at Cape Evans.
Scott was back in the hut by April 21, having left Meares definite orders
that James Pigg and Punch the ponies were not to leave Hut Point for Cape
Evans until the entire journey could be made over the sea ice under
conditions of absolute safety. This meant a wait of three weeks to a
month before everything suited, and the "Governor of Hut Point" did not
come in until the 13th May, when he arrived in pomp and splendour with
all the dogs and the two ponies fit and well--his party, black with soot
and blubber, their wind-proof clothing smelly and greasy, a dirty but
robust and cheerful gang.
A glance at the accompanying plan shows whereabout we worked. Starting at
the left hand top corner we find Simpson's laboratory, and we usually
found Simpson in it at work, always at work, except when he was engaged
in scientific argument or when, just after lunch, he stretched himself
out on his bunk at the end of a large cigar! Simpson was no novice to
work in the frigid zones, for he had already wintered within the Arctic
circle in northern Norway. Weather did not worry him much nor apparently
did temperatures, for since his investigations midst the snows of the
Vikings' land, Simpson had worked extensively in India. His enduring good
humour and his smiling manner earned for him the sobriquet of Sunny Jim.
In the first year the self-registering instruments that found themselves
in Simpson's corner, or in the small hut which contained his magnetic
observatory, gave us an admirable record of temperatures, barometric
pressures, wind force and direction, atmospheric electricity, sunshine
when the sun did shine, and the elements of terrestrial magnetism. Thanks
to Simpson, we also had investigations of the upper air currents, aurora
observations, atmospheric optics, gravity determination and what is more,
some fine practical teaching that enabled the various sledging units
properly to observe and collect data of meteorological importance.
Simpson's place was essentially at the base station; and his consequent
work as physicist and meteorologist prevented him from taking an active
part in our sledge journeys. When he was recalled to Simla in 1912 his
work was ably continued by Wright, our Canadian chemist, who, as I have
said elsewhere, accompanied us south to make a special study of ice
structure and glaciation.
Wright lived in the bunk above Simpson's, and when not devoting his
energy and magnificent physique to sledging and field work, he gave
himself up to the study of ice physics, a somewhat new scientific line of
research. Wright was originally introduced to the Expedition by Griffith
Taylor, and Scott, advised by Wilson, was so keen on the inclusion of
this young Canadian chemist in our scientific staff that really the study
of ice structure and glaciation was made for Wright and his science
coined for him. He photographed ice flowers formed in the sea, he found
out how long ice took to freeze down our way, cast aspersions on the
bearing capabilities of our beloved sea ice and, generally, brought his
intelligence to bear in a way that commanded the approbation of Wilson
and our chief. Wright was one of the strongest members of our Expedition,
and he had the most powerful flow of language. He made some beautiful
photographs of ice crystals and surprised the simple sailor like myself
with his ability as a navigator and astronomer.
Moving along from Wright and Simpson we come to Nelson and Day. Teddy
Nelson, our marine biologist, did both winters at Cape Evans, and he not
only carried out biological work but studied the tides. His corner was
pleasant to look upon, with its orderly row of enamelled and china trays
and dishes. During the winter months holes were made in the sea ice
through which were lowered tow-nets, for collecting drifting organisms
and so on. Special thermometers of German make were lowered by Nelson
through the ice holes to get sea temperatures, and likewise reversing
water bottles were employed to obtain samples of sea-water daily.
Day, the motor engineer, was responsible for the lighting by acetylene.
He was wonderfully clever as a mechanic and also a good carpenter. He
took charge of our petrol, paraffin, and spirit store, and was never idle
for a minute.
Moving along to the right we come to the last cubicle, where the
"Rubbleyubdugs" lived. These were Tryggve Gran, Griffith Taylor, and
Frank Debenham. (All libel actions in connection with the Ubdugs I am
prepared to settle out of port in the long bar at Shanghai.) Quoting from
the "South Polar Times": "'The Ubdug Burrow' is festooned with kodaks,
candles and curtains; they (the Ubdugs) are united by an intense love of
the science of autobiography, their somewhat ambiguous motto is 'the pen
is mightier than the sword, but the tongue licks them both!'" Griffith
Taylor and Debenham were both Australians: the former was probably the
wittiest man in the Expedition, and, in my opinion, the cleverest
contributor to the "South Polar Times," excepting of course the artistic
side. The "South Polar Times" was our winter magazine, beautifully
illustrated by Wilson's water colours and Ponting's photographs. Taylor's
motto was "Advance, Australia!"--most certainly he helped it to. People
were always welcome in the Ubduggery, where they seemed to have an
unlimited supply of cigarettes and good novels.
Debenham was certainly nurse to the Ubdugs, that is to say he was the
least untidy, but then of course he was the smallest. In this cubicle the
most voluminous of diaries were kept, and at least two books have been
published therefrom. Gran kept his diary mostly in Norwegian, but there
were many words coined in our Expedition which had no Scandinavian
equivalent, and Gran failed to translate them, in spite of his having
more imagination than any one amongst us.
Crossing over the hut to the cubicle opposite one arrives at the somewhat
congested space in which Cherry-Garrard was housed, with Bowers above
him. In their corner were store lists, books, and mystery bags which
contained material for the "South Polar Times," toys and frivolous
presents to liven us up at the midwinter and other festivities. Bowers
and Cherry-Garrard were, in a way, worse off than the others, for they
had the darkest part of the hut, yet in this gloomy tenement all kinds of
calculations were made and much other good work done.
Oates came next, with his bunk more free of debris than anybody else's,
for he was the horse man, pure and simple, and his duties freed him from
that superabundance of books, instruments, stationery, specimens, charts,
and what-not with which we others had surrounded ourselves. Any spare
gear he kept in the saddle room, a specially cleared space in the
stables, where he was assisted by the little Russian groom, Anton, who
soon became devoted to his hard-working and capable master. The two men,
so unlike in appearance and character, etc., and such miles apart in
social standing and nationality, worked shoulder to shoulder in the
stables throughout the long winter night. By the dim candle-light which
illuminated our pony-shelter, one could see Oates grooming his charges,
clearing up their stall, refitting their harness, and fixing up the
little improvements that his quick, watchful eye continually suggested.
At the far end of his stables he had a blubber stove, where he used to
melt ice for the ponies' drinking water and cook bran mashes for his
animals. Here he would often sit and help Meares make dog pemmican out of
seal meat--they made about 8 cwt. of this sustaining preparation.
Moving along from the Château, Oates, Meares's and Atkinson's two bunks
came next, Meares above and Atkinson below. These two sleeping berths
likewise were not conspicuous by any superfluity of scientific oddments,
for Meares's work took him outside of the hut as a rule, unless he was
engaged in making dog harness. Meares and Oates were the greatest
friends, and these two, Atkinson, Cherry-Garrard and Bowers, were, if I
remember rightly, known collectively as the Bunderlohg. Although
numerically superior to their _vis-à-vis_, the Ubdugs, and always ready
to revile them, the Ubdugs kept their end up and usually came out
victorious in discussions or in badinage.
Finally, the Holy of Holies, where Captain Scott and the library occupied
one end and Uncle Bill and myself the far corner, with the ceaselessly
ticking chronometers and many sledging watches. There was an air of
sanctity about this part: all the plotting was done here, charts made and
astronomical observations worked out. Wilson worked up his sketches at
the "plotting table," interviewed the staff here, and above his bunk kept
a third of the shore party's library. We had two comfortable trestle beds
up our end and our leader also had a bed in preference to the
built-up bunk adopted by most of the afterguard. Ours was the Mayfair
district: Wilson and I lived in Park Lane in those days, whilst Captain
Scott occupied Grosvenor Street! He had his own little table covered with
"toney" green linoleum, and also had a multiplicity of little shelves on
which to keep his pipes, tobacco, cigars, and other household gods. It
was well illuminated in this part, and, although, hung around with fur
mitts, fur boots, socks, hats and woollen clothing, there was something
very chaste about this very respectable corner. For the rest of it we had
our Arctic library, and the spare spaces on the matchboard bulkhead,
which fenced it on three sides, were decorated with photographs. In place
of eiderdown Scott's old uniform overcoat usually covered his bed, while
peeping out from under his sleeping place one could espy an emblem of
civilisation and prosperity in the shape of a very good suit-case.
The foregoing pages illustrate sufficiently the grouping of the
afterguard, and if one adds an anthracite stove, a 12 ft. by 4 ft. table,
a pianola, gramophone, and a score of chairs, with a small shelf-like
table squeezed in between the dark-room and Simpson's corner, one
completes the picture of the officers' quarters in the Cape Evans Hut.
A bulkhead of biscuit cases and so on divided us from the men's
accommodation. They were very well off, each seaman having a trestle bed
similar to Captain Scott's, unless he preferred to build a bunk for
himself, as one or two did. They had a table 6 ft. by 4 ft., and the cook
had a kitchen table 4 ft. square, and certainly no crew space was ever
provided on a Polar Expedition that gave such comfortable and cosy
housing room.
CHAPTER VIII
THE WINTER CLOSES IN
The closing down of the Polar night was very swift now and the few hours
of gray daylight were employed collecting what data was required by
certain members for working on during the forthcoming days of darkness.
Young Gran was handed over to me to help with the survey work and
astronomical observations which had to be taken from time to time. He was
a most entertaining assistant. Without complaint, he stood patiently
shivering in that cutting winter wind whilst I swung around the
theodolite telescope and took angles for him to write down in my
notebook. I don't think anybody has made a triangulated survey under
conditions worse than we endured that epoch: the weather was beastly and
we spent much time dancing when nearly sick with cold, our fingers tucked
under our arms to recover their feelings. When one's extremities did get
frost-bitten it was no joke--frost-bitten finger tips gave us little
peace at night with their sharp burning pain.
The most interesting part of the survey work was what is known to the
surveyor as coast-lining. This meant walking along the edge of the sea
ice, fixing one's position by sextant angle every five hundred yards or
so, and sketching in a notebook the character and features of the ever
changing coast between the various "fixes." One could keep warm doing
this and one saw more of the land and ice formation than the others, for
it meant following carefully round-cape and glacier edge, penetrating
inlets and delineating every islet, promontory, cliff, and talus.
In spite of the cold, the gloom, and the sad whistling wind that heralded
the now fast approaching darkness, I felt glad to work with my sextant
and sketch-book under the shadow of those fantastic ice-foots hung round
with fringes of icicle. I loved to go with Gran into the deep bays and
walk for miles under the overhanging of the vast ice cliffs all purple in
the reflection of the early winter noon, and to come out sometimes as we
did on to the sea ice clear of a jutting glacier, to face suddenly
northward over the frozen sea where nothing but a great waste of ice
stretched away to meet the horizon and the rosy, copper glow of the
departed sun's rays. Some of the cloud effects at the end of April were
too wonderful for mere pen or brush to describe. To appreciate them one
must go there and see them, those wonderful half-light tints.
Then there were the ice caves and grottos which were formed in the
grounded icebergs that had overturned before we came, and the still more
wonderful caves in the ice-sheet where it over-rode Ross Island and
formed a cliff-face between Cape Evans and Glacier Tongue,
extraordinarily like the white chalk cliffs of Studland Bay I found them,
with here and there outstanding pinnacles which a little imagination
would liken to Old Harry Rocks when the gray light was on them.
At the most we could only take sextant and theodolite angles for two
hours on either side of noon, so Gran and I went without our lunch,
taking a few biscuits and some chocolate out with us on our survey days,
and as we worked farther and farther from our base we found it necessary
to start out in the darkness in order to take full advantage of what
light was vouchsafed us. It was good healthy work and we developed
glorious appetites, so that our mouths ran with water when perhaps we met
a couple of fellows leading the little white ponies on the sea ice for
exercise, and they told us what they had had for lunch and what was being
kept for us. We found it all most interesting and, although I detested
that sunless winter, I loved the changing scenery, which never seemed
monotonous when there was any daylight or moonlight. To mark our
"stations" we used red and black bunting flags, and they showed up very
well. We gave them all sorts of weird names, such as Sardine, Shark, and
so forth, and we knew almost to a yard their distances from one another,
as also their bearings, which helped us when we were overtaken by bad
weather. Eventually it became too dark for any survey work, but there was
always plenty to do indoors for the majority of us. Apart from our
specialist duties some one was always to be found who could give
employment to the willing--there were no idlers or unwilling folk amongst
us. Simpson, for example, would employ as many volunteers as he could get
to follow the balloons which he frequently sent up to record temperature
and pressure. To each of these balloons a fine silk thread was attached,
or rather the thread was attached to the little instrument it carried.
When any strain was put on the thread it broke the thread connecting the
small temperature and pressure instrument to the balloon, the former
dropped on to the ice and was recovered by one of the volunteers, who
followed the silk thread up until he came to the instrument where it had
fallen. One required good eyesight for this work as for everything else
down here, and I have never ceased to marvel at the way Cherry-Garrard
got about and worked so well when one considers that he was very
short-sighted indeed.
Everybody exercised generously, whether by himself on ski, leading a
pony, digging ice for the cook or ice to melt for the ponies' drinking
water, or even with a whole crowd playing rather dangerous football on
the sea ice north of Cape Evans.
When the real winter came I used to walk, after winding the chronometers,
until breakfast time to begin with. This gave me half an hour, then again
before lunch I would put on ski and go for a run with anybody who had not
a pony to exercise. The visibility was frequently limited, particularly
on overcast days; one would glide along over the sea ice, which was in
places wind-swept and in others covered with snow. Nothing in sight but
the gray-white shadow underfoot and the blue-black sky above, a streak or
band just a mere smudge of daylight in the north, but this would be
sufficient to give one direction to go out on. Then slowly, dim,
spectre-like shapes would appear which would gradually sort themselves
out into two lots, black and white--these were Titus's ponies--the white
shapes, the black were the men leading them. On they came, seemingly at a
great pace, and one heard a crunching noise as the hoofs of the ponies
trod down the snow crust, but one could not hear the footfalls of the
men. One exchanged a "Hallo" with the leading man and passed on until a
much bigger white shape loomed up in the obscurity of the noon-twilight,
the going underfoot changed and skis fetched up against a great lump of
ice which was scarcely discernible in the confusing darkness, and one
realised that what little light there was to the northward had been
blotted out by one of the big grounded icebergs. Directly one realised
which berg it was a new course would be shaped, say to the end of the
Barne Glacier; the cliffs of this reached, one proceeded homeward a
league to the hut. This could not be missed on the darkest day if the
coast-line was followed, and, at last, when stomach cried out like a
striking clock, one realised that it was 2 p.m. or so, and a little glow
indicated the whereabouts of the hut. Approaching it, one saw the tall
chimney silhouetted against the sky, then the black shapes which oddly
proclaimed themselves to be motor-sledges, store heaps or fodder dumps,
and finally the hut itself. One stumbled over the tide-crack and up on to
the much trodden snow which covered the Cape Evans's beach. Six or seven
pairs of skis stuck in the snow near the hut door indicated that most
people had come in to lunch, so there was need to haste. Off came one's
own skis, and with a lusty stab in they went heel downwards into the snow
alongside the other ones, so that when a new fall came they would stand
up vertically and be easily found again.
The sticks one took into the hut, because even in our well-appointed
family there were pirates who borrowed them and forgot to replace them.
Entering the hut after kicking much snow from boots one passed first
through the acetylene smelling porch--Handy Andy's pride--as we called
Day's gas plant, then in to the seamen's quarters, where the smell of
cooking delighted and the sight of those great, hefty sailors scoffing
the midday meal hustled one still more.
In the officers' half of the hut most people were already busy with their
knives and forks, two or three perhaps just sitting down, the night
watch-man probably sitting up on the edge of his bunk putting on his
slippers, and cheerfully accepting the friendly insults from his pals at
table who told him the date and year--down went ski-sticks on the bed,
room would be made at the table, and half a dozen dishes pushed your way,
and although the mess-traps were enamelled, the food you shuffled down
from the tin plate and the cocoa you lapped from the blue and white mug
had not its equal at the Carlton, the Ritz, or the Berkeley.
Concerning the night watchman and his duties, although we had so many
self-recording instruments, there were certain things which called for
attention during the silent hours. Aurora observations had to be made
which no instrument would record, movement of clouds had to be noted in
the meteorological log, the snow cleared from the anemometer and so
forth, then of course rounds had to be made in case of fire, ponies and
dogs visited, the galley fire lit or kept going according to
requirements, and so on. Night watch-keeping duty was only undertaken by
certain members chosen from the afterguard. Scott himself always took a
share in this, as he did in everything else that mattered. One came to
welcome the night on, for the attendant work was not very strenuous and
the eight hours' quietude gave the watchman a chance to write up a
neglected diary, to wash clothes, work out observations, and perhaps make
contributions to the "South Polar Times" undisturbed by casual
well-wishers who were not meant to see the article in question until the
day of publication. We were allowed to choose from the stores more or
less what we liked for consumption in the stillness of the night watch. I
always contributed special China or Ceylon tea for the benefit of the
lonely watchman--I had two big canisters of the beverage, a present from
one of our New Zealand well-wishers, Mrs. Arthur Rhodes of Christchurch,
and these lasted the afterguard watch-keepers through the Expedition.
The auroras were a little disappointing this first winter as seen from
Cape Evans, they were certainly better seen from the Barrier. We only got
golden bands and curtains splaying in the heavens, except for one or two
rare occasions when there were distinct green rays low down amongst the
shafts of weird light farthest from the zenith.
In view of the possibility of a second winter one kept a few letters
going which contained a little narrative of our work to date. We had most
imposing note-paper which was used for these occasions: the crest
consisted of a penguin standing on the South Pole with the southern
hemisphere underfoot, a garter surrounding this little picture inscribed
with "British Antarctic Expedition--'Terra Nova' R.Y.S." Alas, some of
the letters were never delivered, for death not only laid his hand upon
certain members of the Expedition, but also upon some of our older
friends, supporters, and subscribers.
One passed out of the hut hourly at least and, on moonlight nights
especially, one found something beautiful in the scenery about Cape
Evans. At full moon time everything turned silver, from towering Erebus
with gleaming sides to the smooth ice slopes of Ross Island in the
north-east, while away to the southward the high black Dellbridge Islands
thrust up from a sea of flat silver ice. Even the conical hills and the
majestic Castle Rock, fifteen miles away, stood out quite clearly on
occasions. The weirdest thing of all was to hear the dogs howling in the
middle of the night, they made one think of wolves and of Siberia.
All things considered, the winter passed quickly enough: we had three
lectures a week, and our professional occupations, our recreations and
different interests soon sped away the four months' winter darkness. The
lectures embraced the technical and the practical side of the Expedition;
thus, besides each of the scientific staff lecturing on his individual
subject, Oates gave us two lectures on the care and management of horses;
Scott outlined his plans for the great southern journey, giving probable
dates and explaining the system of supporting parties which he proposed
to employ; Ponting told us about Japan, and illustrated his subject with
beautiful slides made from photographs that he himself had taken; Bowers
lectured on Burma, until we longed to be there; and Meares gave us a
light but intensely interesting lecture on his adventures in the Lolo
country, a practically unknown land in Central Asia.
In connection with the work of Simpson at the base station, I must not
forget the telephones. Certain telephones and equipment sufficient for
our needs were presented to us in 1910 by the staff of the National
Telephone Co., and they were very largely used in scientific work at the
base station as well as for connecting Cape Evans to Hut Point, fifteen
miles away. Simpson made the Cape Evans-Hut Point connection in
September, 1911, by laying the bare aluminium wire along the surface of
the snow-covered sea ice, and for a long time there was no difficulty in
ringing up by means of magnetos. However, when the sun came back and its
rays became reasonably powerful, difficulty in ringing and speaking was
experienced.
We used the telephones almost daily for taking time, and Simpson used to
stand inside the hut at the sidereal clock whilst I took astronomical
observations outside in the cold. We also telephoned time to the ice cave
in which the pendulums were being swung when determining the force of
gravity. Telephones were quite efficient in temperatures of 40 degrees
and more below zero.
Midwinter Day arrived on June 22, and here one must pay an affectionate
and grateful tribute to Bowers, Wilson, Cherry-Garrard, and Clissold the
cook.
To start with, we had to discuss whether we would hold the midwinter
festival on the 22nd or 23rd of June, because in reality the sun reached
its farthest northern Declination at 2.30 a.m. on the 23rd by the
standard time which we were keeping. We decided to hold it on the evening
of the 22nd, this being the dinner time nearest the actual culmination. A
Buszard's cake extravagantly iced was placed on the tea-table by
Cherry-Garrard, his gift to us, and this was the first of the dainties
with which we proceeded to stuff ourselves on this memorable day.
Although in England it was mid-summer we could not help thinking of those
at home in Christmas vein. The day here was to all intents and purposes
Christmas Day; but it meant a great deal more than that, it meant that
the sun was to come speeding back slowly to begin with, and then faster
and faster until in another four months or so we should find ourselves
setting out to achieve our various purposes. It meant that before another
year had passed some of us, perhaps all of us, would be back in
civilisation taking up again the reins of our ordinary careers which, of
necessity, would lead us to different corners of the earth. The
probability was that we should never all sit down together in a peopled
land, for Simpson was bound to be racing back to India with Bowers and
probably Oates, whose regiment was at Mhow; Gran would away to Norway,
and the other Ubdugs to Australia. One or two of us had been tempted to
settle in New Zealand, and the old Antarctics amongst us knew how useless
it had been to arrange those Antarctic dinners which never came off as
intended.
But to return to the menu for Midwinter Day. When we sat down in the
evening we were confronted with a beautiful water-colour drawing of our
winter quarters, with Erebus's gray shadow looming large in the
background, from the summit of which a rose-tinted smoke-cloud delicately
trended northward, and, standing out from the whole picture a neatly
printed tablet which proclaimed the nature of this much-looked-forward-to
meal:
Consomme Seal.
Roast Beef and Yorkshire Pudding.
Horseradish Sauce.
Potatoes a la mode and Brussels Sprouts.
Plum Pudding. Mince Pies.
Caviare Antarctic.
Crystallised fruits. Chocolate Bonbons.
Butter Bonbons. Walnut Toffee.
Almonds and Raisins.
_Wines._
Sherry, Champagne, Brandy Punch, Liqueur.
Cigars, Cigarettes, and Tobacco.
Snapdragon.
Pineapple Custard. Raspberry jellies.
and what was left of the Buszard's cake!
The menu was, needless to say, Wilson's work, the exquisite dishes
Clissold produced, the maitre d'hotel was Birdie, and Cherry-Garrard the
producer of surprises in the shape of toys which adorned the Christmas
Tree that followed on the dinner. Everybody got something from the tree,
which was in reality no tree at all, for it was a cleverly constructed
dummy, with sticks for branches and coloured paper leaves. Still, it
carried little fairy candles and served its purpose well.
Then I must not forget the greatest treat of all: an exhibition of slides
showing the life about our winter quarters and the general work of the
Expedition from the starting away in New Zealand to this actual day
almost in the hut. The slides were wonderful and they showed every stage
of the ice through which we had come and in which we lived. There were
penguin pictures, whales and seals, bird life in the pack, flash light
photographs of people and ponies, pictures of Erebus and other splendid
and familiar landmarks, and, in short, a magnificent pictorial record of
events, for Ponting had been everywhere with his camera, and it is only
to be regretted that the Expedition did not take him to the Pole. This
was, of course, impossible, when everything had to give way to food.
Following the photographic display and the Christmas Tree came the only
Antarctic dance we enjoyed. Few of us remember much about it for we were
very merry, thanks to the wine, and there was considerable horseplay. I
remember dancing with the cook whilst Oates danced with Anton. Everybody
took a turn, and associated with this dance I might mention that Clissold
so far forgot himself as to call Scott "Good old Truegg." Truegg was the
composition used by us for cooking in various ways omelets, buttered
eggs, puddings, and cakes of all kinds, and, although it was a great boon
to the Expedition, we had by this time tired of it. Still, we used it as
a term of endearment, but nobody in his sober senses would have dreamt of
calling our much respected Commander "Good old Truegg"; the brandy punch
must have been responsible for Clissold's mixing up of names! We had now
arrived at the stage when it was time to shut up, the officers became
interested in an aurora display and gradually rolled off to bed. It was
left to me to see the seamen
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