South: The Story of Shackleton's Last Expedition, 1914-1917
subsist almost entirely on seals and penguins.
A party was sent back to Dump Camp, near the ship, to collect as much
clothing, tobacco, etc., as they could find. The heavy snow which had
fallen in the last few days, combined with the thawing and consequent
sinking of the surface, resulted in the total disappearance of a good
many of the things left behind at this dump. The remainder of the men
made themselves as comfortable as possible under the circumstances at
Ocean Camp. This floating lump of ice, about a mile square at first but
later splitting into smaller and smaller fragments, was to be our home
for nearly two months. During these two months we made frequent visits
to the vicinity of the ship and retrieved much valuable clothing and
food and some few articles of personal value which in our light-hearted
optimism we had thought to leave miles behind us on our dash across the
moving ice to safety.
The collection of food was now the all-important consideration. As we
were to subsist almost entirely on seals and penguins, which were to
provide fuel as well as food, some form of blubber-stove was a
necessity. This was eventually very ingeniously contrived from the
ship’s steel ash-shoot, as our first attempt with a large iron oil-drum
did not prove eminently successful. We could only cook seal or penguin
hooshes or stews on this stove, and so uncertain was its action that
the food was either burnt or only partially cooked; and, hungry though
we were, half-raw seal meat was not very appetizing. On one occasion a
wonderful stew made from seal meat, with two or three tins of Irish
stew that had been salved from the ship, fell into the fire through the
bottom of the oil-drum that we used as a saucepan becoming burnt out on
account of the sudden intense heat of the fire below. We lunched that
day on one biscuit and a quarter of a tin of bully-beef each, frozen
hard.
This new stove, which was to last us during our stay at Ocean Camp, was
a great success. Two large holes were punched, with much labour and few
tools, opposite one another at the wider or top end of the shoot. Into
one of these an oil-drum was fixed, to be used as the fireplace, the
other hole serving to hold our saucepan. Alongside this another hole
was punched to enable two saucepans to be boiled at a time; and farther
along still a chimney made from biscuit-tins completed a very
efficient, if not a very elegant, stove. Later on the cook found that
he could bake a sort of flat bannock or scone on this stove, but he was
seriously hampered for want of yeast or baking-powder.
An attempt was next made to erect some sort of a galley to protect the
cook against the inclemencies of the weather. The party which I had
sent back under Wild to the ship returned with, amongst other things,
the wheel-house practically complete. This, with the addition of some
sails and tarpaulins stretched on spars, made a very comfortable
storehouse and galley. Pieces of planking from the deck were lashed
across some spars stuck upright into the snow, and this, with the
ship’s binnacle, formed an excellent look-out from which to look for
seals and penguins. On this platform, too, a mast was erected from
which flew the King’s flag and the Royal Clyde Yacht Club burgee.
I made a strict inventory of all the food in our possession, weights
being roughly determined with a simple balance made from a piece of
wood and some string, the counter-weight being a 60-lb. box of
provisions.
The dog teams went off to the wreck early each morning under Wild, and
the men made every effort to rescue as much as possible from the ship.
This was an extremely difficult task as the whole of the deck forward
was under a foot of water on the port side, and nearly three feet on
the starboard side. However, they managed to collect large quantities
of wood and ropes and some few cases of provisions. Although the galley
was under water, Bakewell managed to secure three or four saucepans,
which later proved invaluable acquisitions. Quite a number of boxes of
flour, etc., had been stowed in a cabin in the hold, and these we had
been unable to get out before we left the ship. Having, therefore,
determined as nearly as possible that portion of the deck immediately
above these cases, we proceeded to cut a hole with large ice-chisels
through the 3-in. planking of which it was formed. As the ship at this
spot was under 5 ft. of water and ice, it was not an easy job. However,
we succeeded in making the hole sufficiently large to allow of some few
cases to come floating up. These were greeted with great satisfaction,
and later on, as we warmed to our work, other cases, whose upward
progress was assisted with a boat-hook, were greeted with either cheers
or groans according to whether they contained farinaceous food or
merely luxuries such as jellies. For each man by now had a good idea of
the calorific value and nutritive and sustaining qualities of the
various foods. It had a personal interest for us all. In this way we
added to our scanty stock between two and three tons of provisions,
about half of which was farinaceous food, such as flour and peas, of
which we were so short. This sounds a great deal, but at one pound per
day it would only last twenty-eight men for three months. Previous to
this I had reduced the food allowance to nine and a half ounces per man
per day. Now, however, it could be increased, and “this afternoon, for
the first time for ten days, we knew what it was to be really
satisfied.”
I had the sledges packed in readiness with the special sledging rations
in case of a sudden move, and with the other food, allowing also for
prospective seals and penguins, I calculated a dietary to give the
utmost possible variety and yet to use our precious stock of flour in
the most economical manner. All seals and penguins that appeared
anywhere within the vicinity of the camp were killed to provide food
and fuel. The dog-pemmican we also added to our own larder, feeding the
dogs on the seals which we caught, after removing such portions as were
necessary for our own needs. We were rather short of crockery, but
small pieces of venesta-wood served admirably as plates for seal
steaks; stews and liquids of all sorts were served in the aluminium
sledging-mugs, of which each man had one. Later on, jelly-tins and
biscuit-tin lids were pressed into service.
Monotony in the meals, even considering the circumstances in which we
found ourselves, was what I was striving to avoid, so our little stock
of luxuries, such as fish-paste, tinned herrings, etc., was carefully
husbanded and so distributed as to last as long as possible. My efforts
were not in vain, as one man states in his diary: “It must be admitted
that we are feeding very well indeed, considering our position. Each
meal consists of one course and a beverage. The dried vegetables, if
any, all go into the same pot as the meat, and every dish is a sort of
hash or stew, be it ham or seal meat or half and half. The fact that we
only have two pots available places restrictions upon the number of
things that can be cooked at one time, but in spite of the limitation
of facilities, we always seem to manage to get just enough. The
milk-powder and sugar are necessarily boiled with the tea or cocoa.
“We are, of course, very short of the farinaceous element in our diet,
and consequently have a mild craving for more of it. Bread is out of
the question, and as we are husbanding the remaining cases of our
biscuits for our prospective boat journey, we are eking out the supply
of flour by making bannocks, of which we have from three to four each
day. These bannocks are made from flour, fat, water, salt, and a little
baking-powder, the dough being rolled out into flat rounds and baked in
about ten minutes on a hot sheet of iron over the fire. Each bannock
weighs about one and a half to two ounces, and we are indeed lucky to
be able to produce them.”
A few boxes of army biscuits soaked with sea-water were distributed at
one meal. They were in such a state that they would not have been
looked at a second time under ordinary circumstances, but to us on a
floating lump of ice, over three hundred miles from land, and that
quite hypothetical, and with the unplumbed sea beneath us, they were
luxuries indeed. Wild’s tent made a pudding of theirs with some
dripping.
Although keeping in mind the necessity for strict economy with our
scanty store of food, I knew how important it was to keep the men
cheerful, and that the depression occasioned by our surroundings and
our precarious position could to some extent be alleviated by
increasing the rations, at least until we were more accustomed to our
new mode of life. That this was successful is shown in their diaries.
“Day by day goes by much the same as one another. We work; we talk; we
eat. Ah, how we eat! No longer on short rations, we are a trifle more
exacting than we were when we first commenced our ‘simple life,’ but by
comparison with home standards we are positive barbarians, and our
gastronomic rapacity knows no bounds.
“All is eaten that comes to each tent, and everything is most carefully
and accurately divided into as many equal portions as there are men in
the tent. One member then closes his eyes or turns his head away and
calls out the names at random, as the cook for the day points to each
portion, saying at the same time, ‘Whose?’
“Partiality, however unintentional it may be, is thus entirely obviated
and every one feels satisfied that all is fair, even though one may
look a little enviously at the next man’s helping, which differs in
some especially appreciated detail from one’s own. We break the Tenth
Commandment energetically, but as we are all in the same boat in this
respect, no one says a word. We understand each other’s feelings quite
sympathetically.
“It is just like school-days over again, and very jolly it is too, for
the time being!”
Later on, as the prospect of wintering in the pack became more
apparent, the rations had to be considerably reduced. By that time,
however, everybody had become more accustomed to the idea and took it
quite as a matter of course.
Our meals now consisted in the main of a fairly generous helping of
seal or penguin, either boiled or fried. As one man wrote:
“We are now having enough to eat, but not by any means too much; and
every one is always hungry enough to eat every scrap he can get. Meals
are invariably taken very seriously, and little talking is done till
the hoosh is finished.”
Our tents made somewhat cramped quarters, especially during meal-times.
“Living in a tent without any furniture requires a little getting used
to. For our meals we have to sit on the floor, and it is surprising how
awkward it is to eat in such a position; it is better by far to kneel
and sit back on one’s heels, as do the Japanese.”
Each man took it in turn to be the tent “cook” for one day, and one
writes:
“The word ‘cook’ is at present rather a misnomer, for whilst we have a
permanent galley no cooking need be done in the tent.
“Really, all that the tent cook has to do is to take his two hoosh-pots
over to the galley and convey the hoosh and the beverage to the tent,
clearing up after each meal and washing up the two pots and the mugs.
There are no spoons, etc., to wash, for we each keep our own spoon and
pocket-knife in our pockets. We just lick them as clean as possible and
replace them in our pockets after each meal.
“Our spoons are one of our indispensable possessions here. To lose
one’s spoon would be almost as serious as it is for an edentate person
to lose his set of false teeth.”