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CHAPTER VI THE LANDING OF STORES AND EQUIPMENT FEBRUARY 3-22, 1908 Blizzard in McMurdo Sound, February 18-21: Nimrod sails for New Zealand, February 22 We had hardly
started work again
when a strong breeze sprung up with drifting snow. The ship began to
bump
heavily against the ice-foot and twice dragged her anchors out, so, as
there
seemed no possibility of getting ahead with the landing of the stores
under
these conditions, we steamed out and tied up at the main ice-face,
about six
miles to the south, close to where we had lain for the past few days.
It blew
fairly hard all day and right through the evening, but the wind went
down on
the afternoon of the 5th, and we returned to the bay that evening. We lost no time
in getting the
ponies ashore. This was by no means an easy task, for some of the
animals were
very restive, and it required care to avoid accident to themselves or
to us.
Some time before we had thought of walking them down over a gang-plank
on to
the ice, but afterwards decided to build a rough horse-box, get them
into this,
and then sling it over the side by means of the main gaff. We covered
the decks
with ashes and protected all sharp projections with bags and bales of
fodder.
The first pony went in fairly quietly, and in another moment or two had
the
honour of being the pioneer horse on the Antarctic ice. One after
another the
ponies were led out of the stalls into the horse-box and were slung
over on to
the ice. They all seemed to feel themselves at home, for they
immediately
commenced pawing at the snow as they are wont to do in their own
far-away
Manchurian home, where, in the winter, they scrape away the snow to get
out the
rough tussocky grass that lies underneath. It was 3.30 A.M. on the
morning of
the 6th before we got all the ponies off the ship, and they were at
once led up
on to the land. The poor beasts were naturally stiff after the constant
buffeting they had experienced in their narrow stalls on the rolling
ship for
over a month, and they walked very stiffly ashore. They negotiated
the tide-crack all
right, the fissure being narrow, and were soon picketed out on some
bare earth
at the entrance to a valley which lay about fifty yards from the site
of our
hut. We thought that this would be a good place, but the selection was
to cost
us dearly in the future. The tide-crack played an important part in
connection
with the landing of the stores. In the polar regions, both north and
south,
when the sea is frozen over, there always appears between the fast ice,
which
is the ice attached to the land, and the sea ice, a crack which is due
to the
sea ice moving up and down with the rise and fall of the tide. When the
bottom
of the sea slopes gradually from the land, sometimes two or three
tide-cracks
appear running parallel to each other. When no more tide-cracks are to
be seen
landwards, the snow or ice-foot has always been considered as being a
permanent
adjunct to the land, and in our case this opinion was further
strengthened by
the fact that our soundings in the tide-crack showed that the ice-foot
on the
landward side of it must be aground. I have explained this fully, for
it was
after taking into consideration these points that I, for convenience
sake,
landed the bulk of the stores below the bare rocks on what I considered
to be
the permanent snow-slope. About 9 A.M. on
the morning of
February 6 we started work with sledges, hauling provisions and pieces
of the
hut to the shore. The previous night the foundation posts of the hut
had been
sunk and frozen into the ground with a cement composed of volcanic
earth and
water. The digging of the foundation holes, on which job Dunlop, Adams,
Joyce,
Brocklehurst, and Marshall were engaged, proved hard work, for in some
cases
where the hole had to be dug the bed-rock was found a few inches below
the
coating of the earth, and this had to be broken through or drilled with
chisel
and hammer. Now that the ponies were ashore it was necessary to have a
party
living ashore also, for the animals would require looking after if the
ship
were forced to leave the ice-foot at any time, and, of course, the
building of
the hut could go on during the absence of the ship. The first shore
party
consisted of Adams, Marston, Brocklehurst04ackay, and Murray, and two
tents
were set up close to the hut, with the usual sledging requisites,
sleeping-bags, cookers, &c. A canvas cover was rigged on some
oars to serve
as a cooking-tent, and this, later on, was enlarged into a more
commodious
house, built out of bales of fodder. The first
things landed this day
were bales of fodder for the ponies, and sufficient petroleum and
provisions
for the shore party in the event of the ship having to put to sea
suddenly
owing to bad weather. For facility in landing the stores, the whole
party was
divided into two gangs. Some of the crew of the ship hoisted the stores
out of
the hold and slid them down a wide plank on to the ice, others of the
ship's
crew loaded the stores on to the sledges, and these were hauled to land
by the
shore party, each sledge having three men harnessed to it. The road to
the
shore consisted of hard, rough ice, alternating with very soft snow,
and as the
distance from where the ship was lying at first to the tide-crack was
nearly a
quarter of a mile, it was strenuous toil, especially when the
tide-crack was
reached and the sledges had to be pulled up the slope. After the first
few
sledge-loads had been hauled right up on to the land, I decided to let
the
stores remain on the snow slope beyond the tide-crack, where they could
be
taken away at leisure. The work was so heavy that we tried to
substitute
mechanical haulage in place of man haulage, but had to revert to our
original
plan, and all that morning we did the work by man haulage. During the
lunch
hour we shifted the ship about a hundred yards nearer the shore
alongside the
ice-face, from which a piece had broken out during the morning, leaving
a level
edge where the ship could be moored easily. Just as we were
going to commence
work at 2 P.M. a fresh breeze sprang up from the south-east, and the
ship began
to bump against the ice-foot, her movement throwing the water over the
ice. We
were then lying in a rather awkward position in the apex of an angle in
the bay
ice, and as the breeze threatened to become stronger, I sent the
shore-party on
to the ice, and, with some difficulty, we got clear of the ice-foot.
The breeze
freshening we stood out to the fast ice in the strait about six miles
to the
south and anchored there. It blew a fresh breeze with drift from the
south-east
all that afternoon and night, and did not ease up till the following
afternoon.
Thus, unfortunately two valuable working days were lost. When I went
ashore I found that the
little party left behind had not only managed to get up to the site of
the hut
all the heavy timber that had been landed, but had also stacked on the
bare
land the various cases of provisions which had been lying on the snow
slope by
the tide-crack. We worked till 2 A.M. on the morning of the 9th, and
then
knocked off till 9 A.M. Then we commenced again, and put in one of the
hardest
day's work one can imagine, pulling the sledges to the tide-crack and
then
hauling them bodily over. Hour after hour all hands toiled on the work,
the
crossing of the tide-crack becoming more difficult with each succeeding
sledge-load, for the ice in the bay was loosening, and it was over
floating,
rocking pieces of floe with gaps several feet wide between them that we
hauled
the sledges. In the afternoon the ponies were brought into action, as
they had
had some rest, and their arrival facilitated the discharge, though it
did not
lighten the labours of the perspiring staff. None of our party were in
very
good condition, having been cooped up in the ship, and the heavy cases
became
doubly heavy to our arms and shoulders by midnight. Next day the
work continued, the ice
still holding in, but threatening every minute to go out. If there had
been
sufficient water for the ship to lie right alongside the shore we would
have
been pleased to see the ice go out, but at the place where we were
landing the
stores there was only twelve feet of water, and the Nimrod,
at this time, drew fourteen. We tried to anchor one of the
smaller loose pieces of bay ice to the ice-foot, and this answered
whilst the
tide was setting in. As a result of the tidal movement, the influx of
heavy
pack in the bay where we were lying caused some anxiety, and more than
once we
had to shift the ship away from the landing-place because of the heavy
floes
and hummocky ice which pressed up against the bay ice. One large berg
sailed in
from the north and grounded about a mile to the south of Cape Royds,
and later
another about the same height, not less than one hundred and fifty
feet, did
the same, and these two bergs were frozen in where they grounded and
remained
in that position through the winter. The hummocky pack that came in and
out
with the tide was over fifteen feet in height, and, being of much
greater depth
below water, had ample power and force to damage the ship if a breeze
should
spring up. When we turned
to after lunch, and
before the first sledge-load reached the main landing-place, we found
that it
would be impossible to continue working there any longer, for the small
floe
which we had anchored to the ice had dragged out the anchor and was
being
carried to sea by the ebbing tide. Some three hundred and fifty yards
further
along the shore of the bay was a much steeper ice-foot at the foot of
the
cliffs, and a snow slope narrower than the one on which we had been
landing the
provisions. This was the nearest available spot at which to continue
discharging. We hoped that when the ship had left we could hoist the
stores up
over the cliff; they would then be within a hundred yards of the hilt,
and,
after being carried for a short distance, they could be rolled down the
steep
snow slope at the head of the valley where it was being built. All this
time
the hut-party were working day and night, and the building was rapidly
assuming
an appearance of solidity. The uprights were in, and the brace ties
were
fastened together, so that if it alone on to blow there was no fear of
the
structure being destroyed The stores had
now to be dragged a
distance of nearly three hundred yards from the ship to the
landing-place, but
this work, was greatly facilitated by our being able to use four of the
ponies,
working two of them for an hour, and then giving these a spell whilst
two
others took their place. The snow was very deep, and the ponies sank in
well above
the knees; it was heavy going for the men who were leading them. A
large amount
of stores was landed in this way, but a new and serious situation arose
through
the breaking away of the main ice-foot. On the previous
day an
ominous-looking crack had been observed to be developing at the end of
the
ice-foot nearest to Flagstaff Point, and it became apparent that if
this crack
continued to widen, it would cut right across the centre of our stores,
with
the result that, unless removed, they would be irretrievably lost in
the sea.
Next day (the 10th) there was no further opening of the crack, but at
seven
o'clock that night another crack formed on the ice-foot inside of
Derrick Point
where we were now landing stores. There was no immediate danger to be
apprehended
at this place, for the bay ice would have to go out before the ice-foot
could
fall into the sea. Prudence suggested that it would be better to shift
the
stores already landed to a safer place before discharging any more from
the
ship, so at 8 P.M. on the 10th we commenced getting the remainder of
the wood
for the hut and the bales of cork for the lining up on to the bare
land. This
took till about midnight, when we knocked off for cocoa and a sleep. We turned to at
six o'clock next
morning, and I decided to get the stores up the cliff face at Derrick
Point
before dealing with those at Front Door Bay, the first landing-place,
for the
former ice-foot seemed in the greater peril of collapse than did the
latter.
Adams, Joyce, and Wild soon rigged up a boom and tackle from the top of
the
cliff, making the heel of the boom fast by placing great blocks of
volcanic
rocks on it. A party remained below on the ice-foot to shift and hook
on the
cases, whilst another party on top, fifty feet above, hauled away when
the word
was given from below, and on reaching the top of the cliff, the cases
were
hauled in by means of a guy-rope. The men were hauling on the thin rope
of the
tackle from eight o'clock in the morning till one o'clock the following
morning
with barely a spell for a bit to eat. We now had to
find another and safer
place on which to land the rest of the coal and stores. Further round
the bay
from where the ship was lying was a smaller bight where a gentle slope
led on
to bare rocks, and Back Door Bay, as we named this place, became our
new depot.
The ponies were led down the hill, and from Back Door Bay to the ship.
This was
a still longer journey than from Derrick Point, but there was no help
for it,
and we started landing the coal, after laying a tarpauling on the rocks
to keep
the coal from becoming mixed with the earth. By this time there were
several
ugly looking cracks in the bay ice, and these kept opening and closing,
having
a play of seven or eight inches between the floes. We improvised
bridges out of
the bottom and sides of the motor-ear case so that the ponies could
cross the
cracks, and by eleven o'clock were well under way with the work. Mackay
had
just taken ashore a load with a pony, Armytage was about to hook on
another
pony to a loaded sledge at the ship, and a third pony was standing tied
to our
stern anchor rope waiting its turn for sledging, when suddenly, without
the
slightest warning, the greater part of the bay ice opened out into
floes, and
the whole mass that had opened started to drift slowly out to sea. The
ponies
on the ice were now in a perilous position. The sailors rushed to
loosen the
one tied to the stern rope, and got it over the first crack, and
Armytage also
got the pony he was looking after off the floe nearest the ship on to
the next
floe. Just at that moment Mackay appeared round the corner from Back
Door Bay
with a third pony attached to an empty sledge, on his way back to the
ship to
load up. Orders were shouted to him not to come any further, but he did
not at
first grasp the situation, for he continued advancing over the ice,
which was
now breaking away more rapidly. The party working on the top of Derrick
Point,
by shouting and waving, made him realise what had occurred. He
accordingly left
his sledge and pony and rushed over towards where the other two ponies
were
adrift on the ice, and, by jumping the widening cracks, he reached the
moving
floe on which they were standing. This piece of ice gradually drew
closer to a
larger piece, from which the animals would be able to gain a place of
safety.
Mackay started to try and get the pony Chinaman across the crack when
it was
only about six inches wide, but the animal suddenly took fright, reared
up on
his hind legs, and backing towards the edge of the floe, which had at
that
moment opened to a width of a few feet, fell bodily into the ice-cold
water. It
looked as if it was all over with poor Chinaman, but Mackay hung on to
the head
rope, and Davis, Mawson, Michell and one of the sailors who were on the
ice
close by rushed to his assistance. The pony managed to get his fore
feet on to
the edge of the ice-floe. After great difficulty a rope fling was
passed
underneath him, and then by tremendous exertion he was lifted up far
enough to
enable him to scramble on to the ice. There he stood, wet and trembling
in
every limb. A few seconds later the floe closed up against the other
one. It
was providential that it had not done so during the time that the pony
was in
the water, for in that case the animal would inevitably have been
squeezed to
death between the two huge masses of ice. A bottle of brandy was thrown
on to
the ice from the ship, and half its contents were poured down
Chinaman's
throat. The ship was now turning round with the object of going bow on
to the
floe, in order to push it ashore, so that the ponies might cross on to
the fast
ice, and presently, with the engine at full speed, the floe was slowly
but
surely moved back against the fast ice. Directly the floe was hard up
against
the unbroken ice, the ponies were rushed across and taken straight
ashore, and
the men who were on the different floes took advantage of the temporary
closing
of the crack to get themselves and the stores into safety. I decided,
after
this narrow escape, not to risk the ponies on the sea ice again. The
ship was
now backed out, and the loose floes began to drift away to the west. THE PONIES
TRANSPORTING COAL ON SLEDGES AT By 1 P.M. most
of the ice had
cleared out, and the ship came in to the edge of the fast ice, which
was now
abreast of Back Door Bay. Hardly were the ice-anchors made fast before
new
cracks appeared, and within a quarter of an hour the ship was adrift
again. As
it was impossible to discharge under these conditions, the Nimrod
stood off. We had now practically
the whole of the wintering
party ashore, so when lunch was over, the main party went on with the
work at
Derrick Point, refreshed by the hot tea and meat, which they had
hastily
swallowed. I organised
that afternoon a small
party to shift the main stores into safety. We had not been long at
work before
I saw that it would need the utmost despatch and our most strenuous
endeavours
to save the valuable cases; for the crack previously observed opened
more each
hour. Perspiration poured down our faces and bodies as we toiled in the
hot
sun. After two hours' work we had shifted into a place of safety all
our cases
of scientific instruments, and a large quantity of fodder, and hardly
were they
secured than, with a sharp crack, the very place where they had been
lying fell
with a crash into the sea. Had we lost these cases the result would
have been
very serious, for a great part of our scientific work could not have
been
carried out, and if the fodder had been lost, it would have meant the
loss of
the ponies also. The breaking of this part of the ice made us redouble
our
efforts to save the rest of the stores, for we could not tell when the
next
piece of ice might break off, though no crack was yet visible. The
breaking up
of the bay ice that morning turned out to be after all for the best,
for I
would not otherwise have gone on so early with this work. I ran up the
hill to
the top of Flagstaff Point to call the ship in, in order to obtain
additional
help from the crew; she had been dodging about outside of the point
since one
o'clock, but she was beyond hailing distance, and it was not till about
seven
o'clock that I saw her coming close in again. I at once hailed England
and told
him to send every available man ashore immediately. In a few minutes a
boat
came off with half a dozen men, and I sent a message back by the
officer in
charge for mere members of the ship's crew to be landed at once, and
only
enough men left on board to steer the ship and work the engines. I had
previously knocked off the party working on the hut, and with the extra
assistance
we "smacked things about" in a lively fashion. The ice kept breaking
off in chunks, but we had the satisfaction of seeing every single
package safe
on the rocks by midnight. Our party then
proceeded to sledge
the heavier cases and the tins of oil at the foot of Derrick Point
round the
narrow causeway of ice between the perpendicular rocks and the sea to
the depot
at Back Door Bay. I was astonished and delighted on arriving at the
derrick to
find the immense amount of stores that had been placed in safety by the
efforts
of the Derrick Point party, and by 1 A.M. on February 13 all the stores
landed
were in safety. About a ton of flour in cases remained to be hauled up,
but as
we already had enough ashore to last us for a year, and knowing that at
Hut
Point there were large quantities of biscuit left by the last
expedition, which
would be available if needed, we just rolled the cases on the ice-foot
into a
hollow at the foot of the cliff, where they were in comparative safety,
as the
ice there would not be likely to break away immediately. We retrieved
these
after the ship left. When making
arrangements for the
necessary equipment of the expedition, I tried to get the bulk of the
stores
into cases of uniform size and weight, averaging fifty to sixty pounds
gross,
and thus allow of more easy handling than would have been the case if
the
stores were packed in the usual way. The goods packed in Venesta cifses
could
withstand the roughest treatment without breakage or damage to the
contents.
These Venesta cases are made of three thin layers of wood, fastened
together by
a patent process; the material is much tougher than ordinary wood,
weighs much
less than a case of the same size made of the usual deal, and being
thinner,
takes up much less room, a consideration of great moment to a Polar
expedition.
The wood could not be broken by the direct blow of a heavy hammer, and
the
empty cases could be used for the making of the hundred and one odds
and ends
that have to be contrived to meet requirements in such an expedition as
this. At 1 P.M. on
the morning of February
13 I signalled the ship to come in and take off the crew, and a boat
was sent
ashore. There was a slight breeze blowing, and it took them some time
to pull
off to the Nimrod, which lay a long
way out. We on shore turned in, and we were so tired that it was noon
before we
woke up. A glance out to sea showed that we had lost nothing by our
sleep, for
there was a heavy swell running into the bay and it would have been
quite impossible
to have landed any stores at all. In the afternoon the ship came in
fairly
close, but I signalled England that it was useless to send the boat.
This
northerly swell, which we could hear thundering on the ice-foot, would
have
been welcome a fortnight before, for it would have broken up a large
amount of
fast ice to the south, and I could not help imagining that probably at
this
date there was open water up to Hut Point. Now, however, it was the
worst thing
possible for us, as the precious time was slipping by, and the still
more
valuable coal was being used up by the continual working of the ship's
engines.
Next day the swell still continued, so at 4 P.M. I signalled England to
proceed
to Glacier Tongue and land a depot there. Glacier Tongue is a
remarkable
formation of ice which stretches out into the sea from the south-west
slopes of
Mount Erebus. About five miles in length, running east and west,
tapering
almost to a point at its seaward end, and having a width of about a
mile where
it descends from the land, cracked and crevassed all over and floating
in deep
water, it is a phenomenon which still remains a mystery. It lies about
eight
miles to the northward of Hut Point, and about thirteen to the
southward of
Cape Royds, and I thought this would be a good place at which to land a
quantity of sledging stores, as by doing so we would be saved haulage
at least
thirteen miles, the distance between the spot on the southern route and
Cape
Royds. The ship arrived there in the early evening, and landed the
depot on the
north side of the Tongue. The Professor took bearings so that there
might be no
difficulty in finding the depot when the sledging season commenced. The
sounding at this spot gave a depth of 157 fathoms. From the seaward end
of the
glacier it was observed that the ice had broken away only a couple of
miles
further south, so the northerly swell had not been as far-reaching in
its
effect as I had imagined. The ship moored at the Tongue for the night. During this day
we, ashore at Cape
Royds, were variously employed; one party continued the building of the
hut,
whilst the rest of us made a more elaborate temporary dwelling and
cook-house
than we had had up to that time. The walls were constructed of bales of
fodder,
which lent themselves admirably for this purpose, the cook-tent
tarpauling was
stretched over these for a roof and was supported on planks, and the
outer
walls were stayed with uprights from the pony-stalls. As the roof was
rather
low and people could not stand upright, a trench was dug at one end,
where the
cook could move about without bending his back the whole time. In this
corner
were concocted the most delicious dishes that ever a hungry man could
wish for.
Wild acted as cook till Roberts came ashore permanently, and it was a
sight to
see us in the dim light that penetrated through the door of the fodder
hut as
we sat in a row on cases, each armed with a spoon manufactured out of
tin and
wood by the ever-inventive Day, awaiting with eagerness our bowl of
steaming
hoosh or rich dark-coloured penguin breast, followed by biscuit, butter
and jam;
tea and smokes ended up the meal, and, as we lazily stretched ourselves
out for
the smoke, regardless of a temperature of 16 or 18 degrees of frost, we
felt
that things were not so bad. The same day
that we built the
fodder hut we placed inside it some cases of bottled fruit, hoping to
save them
from being cracked by the severe frost outside. The bulk of the cases
containing liquid we kept on board the ship till the last moment so
that they could
be put into the main hut when tho fire was lighted. We turned in about
midnight, and got up at seven next morning. The ship had just come
straight in,
and I went off on board. Marshall also came off to attend to
Mackintosh, whose
wound was rapidly healing. He was now up and about. He was very
anxious to stay with us,
but Marshall did not think it advisable for him to risk it. During the
whole of
this day and the next, the 15th, the swell was too great to admit of
any stores
being landed, but early on the morning of the 16th we found it possible
to get
ashore at a small ice-foot to the north of Flagstaff Point, and here,
in spite
of the swell, we managed to land six boatloads of fruit, some oil, and
twenty-four bags of coal. The crew of the boat, whilst the stores were
being
taken out, had to keep to their oars, and whenever the swell rolled on
the
shelving beach, they had to back with all their might to keep the bow
of the
boat from running under the overhanging ice-foot and being crushed
under the
ice by the lifting wave. Davis, the chief officer of the Nimrod,
worked like a Titan. A tall, red-headed Irishman, typical
of his country, he was always working and always cheerful, having no
time-limit
for his work. He and Harbord, the second officer, a quiet, self-reliant
man,
were great acquisitions to the expedition. These two officers were ably
supported by the efforts of the crew. They had nothing but hard work
and
discomfort from the beginning of the voyage, and yet they were always
cheerful,
and worked splendidly. Dunlop, the chief engineer, not only kept his
department
going smoothly on board but was the principal constructor of the hut. A
great
deal of the credit for the work being so cheerfully performed was due
to the
example of Cheetham, who was an old hand in the Antarctic, having been
boatswain of the Morning on both the voyages she made for the relief of
the Discovery. He was third mate
and
boatswain on this expedition. When I had gone
on board the
previous day I found that England was still poorly and that he was
feeling the
strain of the situation. He was naturally very anxious to get the ship
away and
concerned about the shrinkage of the coal-supply. I also would have
been glad
to have seen the Nimrod on her way
north, but it was impossible to let her leave until the wintering party
had
received their coal from her. In view of the voyage home, the ship's
main
topmast was struck to lessen her rolling in bad weather. It was
impossible to
ballast the ship with rock, as the time needed for this operation would
involve
the consumption of much valuable coal, and I was sure that the heavy
iron-bark
and oak hull, and the weight of the engine and boiler filled with
water, would
be sufficient to ensure the ship's safety. We found it
impossible to continue working
at Cliff Point later on in the day, so the ship stood off whilst those
on shore
went on with the building of the hut. Some of the shore-party had come
off in
the last boat to finish writing their final letters home, and during
the night
we lay to waiting for the swell to decrease. The weather was quite
fine, and if
it had not been for the swell we could have got through a great deal of
work.
February is by no means a fine month in the latitude we were in, and up
till
now we had been extremely fortunate, as we had not experienced a real
blizzard. The following
morning, Monday,
February 17, the sea was breaking heavily on the ice-foot at the bottom
of
Cliff Point. The stores that had been landed the previous day had been
hoisted
up the overhanging cliff and now formed the fourth of our scattered
depots of
coal and stores. The swell did not seem so heavy in Front Door Bay, so
we
commenced landing the stores in the whale-boat at the place where the
ice-foot
had broken away, a party on shore hauling the bags of coal and the
cases up the
ice-face, which was about fourteen feet high. The penguins were still
round us
in large numbers. We had not had any time to make observations on them,
being
so busily employed discharging the ship, but just at this particular
time our
attention was called to a couple of these birds which suddenly made a
spring
from the water and landed on their feet on the ice-edge, having cleared
a
vertical height of twelve feet. It seemed a marvellous jump for these
small
creatures to have n.ade, and shows the rapidity with which they must
move
through water to gain the impetus that enables them to clear a distance
in
vertical height four times greater than their own, and also how
unerring must
be their judgment in estimation of the distance and height when
performing this
feat. The work of landing stores at this spot was greatly hampered by
the fact
that the bay was more or less filled with broken floes, through which
the boat
had to be forced. It was impossible to use the oars in the usual way,
so, on
arriving at the broken ice, they were employed as poles. The bow of the
boat
was entered into a likely looking channel, and then the crew, standing
up,
pushed the boat forward by means of the oars, the ice generally giving
way on
each side, but sometimes closing up and nipping the boat, which, if it
had been
less strongly built, would assuredly have been crushed. The Professor,
Mawson,
Cotton, Michell and a couple of seamen formed the boat's crew, and with
Davis
or Harbord in the stern, they dodged the ice very well, considering the
fact
that the swell was rather heavy at the outside edge of the floes. When
along-side the ice-foot one of the crew hung on to a rope in the bow,
-and
another did the same in the stern, hauling in the slack as the boat
rose on top
of the swell, and easing out as the water swirled downwards from the
ice-foot.
There was a sharp-pointed rock, which, when the swell receded, was
almost above
water, and the greatest difficulty was experienced in preventing the
boat from
crashing down on the top of this. The rest of the staff in the boat and
on
shore hauled up the cases and bags of coal at every available
opportunity. The
coal was weighed at the top of the ice-foot, and the bags emptied on to
a heap
which formed the main supply for the winter months. We had now three
depots of
coal in different places round the winter quarters. In the afternoon
the
floating ice at this place became impassable, but fortunately it had
worked its
way out of Back Door Bay, where, in spite of the heavy swell running
against
the ice-foot, we were able to continue adding to the heap of coal until
nearly
eight tons had been landed. It was a dull and weary job except when
unpleasantly enlivened by the imminent danger of the boat being caught
between
heavy pieces of floating ice and the solid ice-foot. These masses of
ice rose
and fell on the swell, the water swirling round them as they became
submerged,
and pouring off their tops and sides as they rose to the surface. It
required
all Harbord's watchfulness and speediness of action to prevent damage
to the
boat. It is almost needless to observe that all hands were as grimy as
coal-heavers, especially the boat's crew, who were working in the
half-frozen
slushy coal-dust and sea spray. The Professor, Mawson, Cotton, and
Michell
still formed part of the crew. They had, by midnight, been over twelve
hours in
the boat, excepting for about ten minutes' spell for lunch, and after
discharging each time had a long pull back to the ship. When each
boat-load was
landed, the coal and stores had to be hauled up on a sledge over a very
steep
gradient to a place of safety, and after this was accomplished, there
was a
long wait for the next consignment. Work was
continued all night, though
every one was nearly dropping with fatigue; but I decided that the boat
returning to the ship at 5 A.M. (the 18th) should take a message to
England
that the men were to knock off for breakfast and turn to at 7 A.M.
Meanwhile
Roberts had brewed some hot coffee in the hut, where we now had the
stove
going, and, after a drink of this, our weary people threw themselves
down on
the sleeping-bags in order to snatch a short rest before again taking
up the
work. At 7 A.M. I went to the
top of Flagstaff
Point, but instead of seeing the ship close in, I spied her hull down
on the
horizon, and could see no sign of her approaching the winter quarters
to resume
discharging. After watching her for about half an hour, I returned to
the hut,
woke up those of the staff who from utter weariness had dropped asleep,
and
told them to turn into their bags and have a proper rest. I could not
imagine
why the ship was not at hand, but at a quarter to eleven Harbord came
ashore
and said that England wanted to see me on board; so, leaving the others
to
sleep, I went off to the Nimrod. On
asking England why the ship was not in at seven to continue
discharging, he
told me that all hands were so dead-tired that he thought it best to
let them
have a sleep. The men were certainly worn out. Davis' head had dropped
on the
wardroom table, and he had gone sound asleep with his spoon in his
mouth, to
which he had just conveyed some of his breakfast. Cotton had fallen
asleep on
the platform of the engine-room steps, whilst Mawson, whose lair was a
little
store-room in the engine-room, was asleep on the floor. His long legs,
protruding through the doorway, had found a resting-place on the
cross-head of
the engine, and his dreams were mingled with a curious rhythmical
motion which
was fully accounted for when he woke up, for the ship having got under
way, the
up-and-down motion of the piston had moved his limbs with every stroke.
The
sailors also were fast asleep; so, in the face of this evidence of
absolute
exhaustion, I decided not to start work again till after one o'clock,
and told
England definitely that when the ship had been reduced in coal to
ninety-two
tons as a minimum I would send her north. According to cur experiences
on the
last expedition, the latest date to which it would be safe to keep the Nimrod would be the end of February, for
the young ice forming about that time on the sound would seriously
hamper her
getting clear of the Ross Sea. Later observations of the ice conditions
of
McMurdo Sound at our winter quarters showed us that a powerfully
engined ship
could have gone north later in the year, perhaps even in the winter,
for we had
open water close to us all the time. About 2 P.M.
the Nimrod came close in to
Flagstaff Point
to start discharging again. I decided that it was time to land the more
delicate instruments, such as watches, chronometers, and all personal
gear. The
members of the staff who were on board hauled their things out of
Oyster Alley,
and, laden with its valuable freight, we took the whale-boat into Front
Door
Bay. Those who had
been ashore now went
on board to collect their goods and finish their correspondence. During
the
afternoon we continued boating coal to Front Door Bay, which was again
free of
ice, and devoted our attention almost entirely to this work. About five
o'clock on the afternoon
of February 18, snow began to fall, with a light wind from the north,
and as at
times the boat could hardly be seen from the ship, instructions were
given to
the boat's crew that whenever the Nimrod
was not clearly visible they were to wait alongside the shore until the
snow
squall had passed and she appeared in sight again. At six o'clock, just
as the
boat had come alongside for another load, the wind suddenly shifted to
the
south-east and freshened immediately. The whaler was hoisted at once,
and the Nimrod stood off from the
shore, passing
between some heavy ice-floes, against one of which her propeller
struck, but
fortunately without sustaining any damage. Within half an hour it was
blowing a
furious blizzard, and every sign of land, both east and west, was
obscured in
the scudding drift. I was aboard the vessel at the time. We were then
making
for the fast-ice to the south, but the Nimrod
was gaining but little headway against the terrific wind and
short-rising sea; so
to save coal I decided to keep the engines just going slow and maintain
our
position in the sound as far as we could judge, though it was
inevitable that
we should drift northward to a certain extent. All night the gale raged
with
great fury. The speed of the gusts at times must have approached a
force of a
hundred miles an hour. The tops of the seas were cut off by the wind,
and flung
over the decks, mast, and rigging of the ship, congealing at once into
hard
ice, and the sides of the vessel were thick with the frozen sea water.
"The
masts were grey with the frozen spray, and the bows were a coat of
mail."
Very soon the cases and sledges lying on deck were hard and fast in a
sheet of
solid ice, and the temperature had dropped below zero. Harbord, who was
the
officer on watch, on whistling to call the crew aft, found that the
metal
whistle stuck to his lips, a painful intimation of the low temperature.
I spent
most of the night on the bridge, and hoped that the violence of the
gale would
be of but short duration. This hope was not realised, for next morning,
February 19, at 8 A.M., it was blowing harder than ever. During the
early hours
of the day the temperature was minus 16° Fahr., and consistently kept
below
minus 12° Fahr. The motion of the ship was sharp and jerky, yet,
considering
the nature of the sea and the trim of the vessel, she was remarkably
steady. To
a certain extent this was due to the fact that the main topmast had
been
lowered. We had constantly to have two men at the wheel, for the
rudder, being
so far out of the water, received the blows of the sea as they struck
the
quarter and stern; and the steersman having once been flung right over
the
steering-chains against the side of the ship, it was necessary to have
two
always holding on to the kicking wheel. At times there would be a
slight lull,
the seas striking less frequently against the rudder, and the result
would be
that the rudder-well soon got filled with ice, and it was found
impossible to
move the wheel at all. To overcome this dangerous state of things the
steersmen
had to keep moving the wheel alternately to port and starboard, after
the ice
had been broken away from the well. In spite of this precaution, the
rudder-well occasionally became choked, and one of the crew, armed with
a long
iron bar, had to stand by continually to break the frozen sea water off
the
rudder. In the blinding drift it was impossible to see more than a few
yards
from the ship, and once a large iceberg suddenly loomed out of the
drift close
to the weather bow of the Nimrod;
fortunately
the rudder had just been cleared, and the ship answered her helm, thus
avoiding
a collision. All day on the
20th, through the
night, and throughout the day and night of the 21st, the gale raged.
Occasionally the drift ceased, and we saw dimly bare rocks, sometimes
to the
east and sometimes to the west, but the upper parts of them being
enveloped in
snow clouds, it was impossible to ascertain exactly what our position
was. At
these times we were forced to wear ship; that is, to turn the ship
round,
bringing the wind first astern and then on to the other side, so that
we could
head in the opposite direction. It was impossible in face of the storm
to tack,
i.e. to turn the ship's head into the wind, and round, so as to bring
the wind
on the other side. About midnight on the 21st, whilst carrying out this
evolution of wearing ship, during which the Nimrod
always rolled heavily in the trough of the waves, she shipped a heavy
sea, and,
all the release-water ports and scupper holes being blocked with ice,
the water
had no means of exit, and began to freeze on deck, where, already,
there was a
layer of ice over a foot in thickness. Any more weight like this would
have
made the ship unmanageable. The ropes, already covered with ice, would
have
been frozen into a solid mass, so we were forced to take the drastic
step of
breaking holes in the bulwarks to allow the water to escape. This had
been done
already in the forward end of the ship by the gales we experienced on
our
passage down to the ice, but as the greater part of the weight in the
holds was
aft, the water collected towards the middle and stern, and the job of
breaking
through the bulwarks was a tougher one than we had imagined; it was
only by
dint of great exertions that Davis and Harbord accomplished it. It was
a sight
to see Harbord, held by his legs, hanging over the starboard side of
the Nimrod, and wielding a heavy
axe, whilst
Davis, whose length of limb enabled him to lean over without being
held, did
the same on the other side. The temperature at this time was several
degrees
below zero. Occasionally on this night, as we approached the eastern
shore, the
coast of Ross Island, we noticed the sea covered with a thick
yellowish-brown
scum. This was due to the immense masses of snow blown off the mountain
sides
out to sea, and this scum, to a certain extent, prevented the tops of
the waves
from breaking. Had it not been for this unexpected protection we would
certainly have lost our starboard boat, which had been unshipped in a
sea and
was hanging in a precarious position for the time being. It was hard to
realise
that so high and so dangerous a sea could possibly have risen in the
comparatively narrow waters of McMurdo Sound. The wind was as strong as
that we
experienced in the gales that assailed us after we first left New
Zealand, but
the waves were not so huge as those which had the whole run of the
Southern
Ocean in which to gather strength before they met us. At 2 A.M. the
weather
suddenly cleared, and though the wind still blew strongly and gustily,
it was
apparent that the force of the gale had been expended. We could now see
our
position clearly. The wind and current, in spite of our efforts to keep
our
position, had driven us over thirty miles to the north, and at this
time we
were abeam of Cape Bird. The sea was rapidly decreasing in height, and
we were
able to steam for Cape Royds. We arrived
there in the early
morning, and I went ashore at Back Door Bay, after pushing the whale
boat
through pancake ice and slush, the result of the gale. Hurrying over to
the hut
I was glad to see that it was intact, and then I received full details
of the
occurrences of the last three days on shore. The report was not very
reassuring
as regards the warmth of the hut, for the inmates stated that, in spite
of the
stove being alight the whole time, no warmth was given off. Of course
the
building was really not at all complete. It had not been lined, and
there were
only makeshift protections for the windows, but what seemed a grave
matter was
the behaviour of the stove, for on the efficiency of this depended not
only our
comfort but our very existence. The shore-party had experienced a very
heavy
gale indeed. The hut had trembled and shaken the whole time, and if the
situation had not been so admirable I doubt whether there would have
been a hut
at all after the gale. A minor accident had occurred, for our fodder
hut had
failed to withstand the gale, and one of the walls had collapsed,
killing one
of Possum's pups. The roof had been demolished at the same time. On going down
to our main landing-place,
the full effect of the blizzard became apparent. There was hardly a
sign to be
seen of the greater part of our stores. At first it appeared that the
drifting
snow had covered the cases and bales and the coal, but a closer
inspection
showed that the real disappearance of our stores from view was due to
the sea.
Such was the force of the wind blowing straight on to the shore from
the south
that the spray had been flung in sheets over everything and had been
carried by
the wind for nearly a quarter of a mile inland, and consequently in
places our
precious stores lay buried to a depth of five or six feet in a mass of
frozen
sea water. The angles taken up by the huddled masses of cases and bales
had
made the surface of this mass of ice assume a most peculiar shape. We
feared
that it would take weeks of work to get the stores clear of the ice. It
was
probable also that the salt water would have damaged the fodder, and
worked its
way into cases that were not tin-lined or made of Venesta wood, and
that some
of the things would never be seen again. No one would have recognised
the
landing-place as the spot on which we had been working during the past
fortnight, so great was the change wrought by the furious storm. Our
heap of
coal had a sheet of frozen salt water over it, but this was a blessing
in
disguise, for it saved the smaller pieces of coal from being blown
away. A BLIZZARD ON
THE
BARRIER There was no
time then to do
anything about releasing the stores from the ice; the main thing was to
get the
remainder of the coal ashore and send the ship north. We immediately
started
landing coal at the extreme edge of Front Door Bay. The rate of work
was
necessarily very slow, for the whole place was both rough and slippery
from the
newly formed ice that covered everything. Before 10 P.M. on February
22, the
final boatload of coal arrived. We calculated that we had in all only
about
eighteen tons, so that the strictest economy would be required to make
this
amount spin out until the sledging commenced in the following spring. I
should
certainly have liked more coal, but the delays that had occurred in
finding
winter quarters, and the difficulties encountered in landing the
stores, had
caused the Nimrod to be kept longer
than I had intended already. We gave our final letters and messages to
the crew
of the last boat, and said good-bye. Cotton, who had come south just
for the
trip, was among them, and never had we a more willing worker. At 10
P.M. the Nimrod's bows were pointed
to the north,
and she was moving rapidly away from the winter quarters with a fair
wind.
Within a month I hoped she would be safe in New Zealand, and her crew
enjoying
a well-earned rest. We were all devoutly thankful that the landing of
the
stores had been finished at last, and that the state of the sea would
no longer
be a factor in our work, but it was with something of a pang that we
severed
our last connection with the world of men. We could hope for no word of
news
from civilisation until the Nimrod
came south again in the following summer, and before that we had a good
deal of
difficult work to do, and some risks to face. There was scant
time for reflection,
even if we had been moved that way. We turned in for a good night's
rest as
soon as possible after the departure of the ship, and the following
morning we
started digging the stores out of the ice, and transporting everything
to the
vicinity of the hut. It was necessary that the stores should be close
by the
building, partly in order that there might be no difficulty in getting
what
goods we wanted during the winter, and partly because we would require
all the
protection that we could get from the cold, and the cases, when piled
round our
little dwelling, would serve to keep off the wind. We hoped, as soon as
the
stores had all been placed in position, to make a start with the
scientific
observations that were to be an important part of the work of the
expedition. |