South: The Story of Shackleton's Last Expedition, 1914-1917
march. If only it would clear up for just one day we would not mind.
This is the longest continuous blizzard I have ever been in. We have
not had a travelling day for eleven days, and the amount of snow that
has fallen is astonishing. _Later_.—Had a meal 10.30 and decided to get
under way in spite of the wind and snow. Under way 12 o’clock. We have
three weeks’ food on sledge, about 160 lbs., and one week’s dog-food,
50 lbs. The whole weight, all told, about 600 lbs., and also taking an
extra sledge to bring back Captain Mackintosh. To our surprise we could
not shift the sledges. After half an hour we got about ten yards. We
turned the sledge up and scraped runners; it went a little better
after. I am afraid our weakness is much more than we think. Hayward is
in rather a bad way about his knees, which are giving him trouble and
are very painful; we will give him a good massage when we camp. The
dogs have lost all heart in pulling; they seem to think that going
south again is no good to them; they seem to just jog along, and one
cannot do more. I don’t suppose our pace is more than one-half or
three-quarters of a mile per hour. The surface is rotten, snow up to
one’s knees, and what with wind and drift a very bad outlook. Lunched
about 4.30. Carried on until 11.20, when we camped. It was very dark
making our dinner, but soon got through the process. Then Richards
spent an hour or so in rubbing Hayward with methylated spirits, which
did him a world of good. If he were to break up now I should not know
what to do. Turned in about 1.30. It is now calm, but overcast with
light falling snow.
“_February_ 28, _Monday_.—Up at 6 o’clock; can just see a little
sky-line. Under way at 9 o’clock. The reason of delay, had to mend
finneskoe, which are in a very dilapidated condition. I got my feet
badly frost-bitten yesterday. About 11 o’clock came on to snow,
everything overcast. We ought to reach our poor boys in three or four
hours, but Fate wills otherwise, as it came on again to blizzard force
about 11.45. Camped at noon. I think the party must be within a very
short distance, but we cannot go on as we might pass them, and as we
have not got any position to go on except compass. _Later_.—Kept on
blizzarding all afternoon and night.
“_February_ 29, _Tuesday_.—Up at 5 o’clock; still very thick. It
cleared up a little to the south about 8 o’clock, when Richards sighted
something black to the north of us, but could not see properly what it
was. After looking round sighted camp to the south, so we got under way
as soon as possible. Got up to the camp about 12.45, when Wild came out
to meet us. We gave him a cheer, as we fully expected to find all down.
He said he had taken a little exercise every day; they had not any food
left. The Skipper then came out of the tent, very weak and as much as
he could do to walk. He said, ‘I want to thank you for saving our
lives.’ I told Wild to go and give them a feed and not to eat too much
at first in case of reaction, as I am going to get under way as soon as
they have had a feed. So we had lunch, and the Skipper went ahead to
get some exercise, and after an hour’s digging out got everything ready
for leaving. When we lifted Smith we found he was in a great hole which
he had melted through. This party had been in one camp for twelve days.
We got under way and picked the Skipper up; he had fallen down, too
weak to walk. We put him on the sledge we had brought out, and we
camped about 8 o’clock. I think we did about three miles, rather good
with two men on the sledges and Hayward in a very bad way. I don’t
think there has been a party, either north or south, in such straits,
three men down and three of us very weak; but the dogs seem to have new
life since we turned north. I think they realize they are homeward
bound. I am glad we kept them, even when we were starving. I knew they
would have to come in at the finish. We have now to look forward to
southerly winds for help, which I think we shall get at this time of
year. Let us hope the temperature will keep up, as our sleeping-bags
are wet through and worn out, and all our clothes full of holes, and
finneskoe in a dilapidated condition; in fact, one would not be out on
a cold day in civilization with the rotten clothes we have on. Turned
in 11 o’clock, wet through, but in a better frame of mind. Hope to try
and reach the depot to-morrow, even if we have to march overtime.
“_March_ 1, _Wednesday_.—Turned out usual time; a good south wind, but,
worse luck, heavy drift. Set sail; put the Skipper on rear sledge. The
temperature has gone down and it is very cold. Bluff in sight. We are
making good progress, doing a good mileage before lunch. After lunch a
little stronger wind. Hayward still hanging on to sledge; Skipper fell
off twice. Reached depot 5.45. When camping found we had dropped our
tent-poles, so Richards went back a little way and spotted them through
the binoculars about half a mile off, and brought them back. Hayward
and I were very cold by that time, the drift very bad. Moral: See
everything properly secured. We soon had our tent up, cooked our dinner
in the dark, and turned in about 10 o’clock.
“_March_ 2, _Thursday_.—Up as usual. Strong south-west wind with heavy
drift. Took two weeks’ provisions from the depot. I think that will
last us through, as there is another depot about fifty miles north from
here; I am taking the outside course on account of the crevasses, and
one cannot take too many chances with two men on sledges and one
crippled. Under way about 10 o’clock; lunched noon in a heavy drift;
took an hour to get the tents up, etc., the wind being so heavy. Found
sledges buried under snow after lunch, took some time to get under way.
Wind and drift very heavy; set half-sail on the first sledge and under
way about 3.30. The going is perfect; sometimes sledges overtaking us.
Carried on until 8 o’clock, doing an excellent journey for the day;
distance about eleven or twelve miles. Gives one a bit of heart to
carry on like this; only hope we can do this all the way. Had to cook
our meals in the dark, but still we did not mind. Turned in about 11
o’clock, pleased with ourselves, although we were wet through with
snow, as it got through all the holes in our clothes, and the
sleeping-bags are worse than awful.
“_March_ 3, _Friday_.—Up the usual time. It has been blowing a raging
blizzard all night. Found to our disgust utterly impossible to carry
on. Another few hours of agony in these rotten bags. _Later_.—Blizzard
much heavier. Amused myself mending finneskoe and Burberrys, mitts and
socks. Had the Primus while this operation was in force. Hoping for a
fine day to-morrow.
“_March_ 4, _Saturday_.—Up 5.20. Still blizzarding, but have decided to
get under way as we will have to try and travel through everything, as
Hayward is getting worse, and one doesn’t know who is the next. No
mistake it is scurvy, and the only possible cure is fresh food. I
sincerely hope the ship is in; if not we shall get over the hills by
Castle Rock, which is rather difficult and will delay another couple of
days. Smith is still cheerful; he has hardly moved for weeks and he has
to have everything done for him. Got under way 9.35. It took some two
hours to dig out dogs and sledges, as they were completely buried. It
is the same every morning now. Set sail, going along pretty fair.
Hayward gets on sledge now and again. Lunched as usual; sledges got
buried again at lunch-time. It takes some time to camp now, and in this
drift it is awful. In the afternoon wind eased a bit and drift went
down. Found it very hard pulling with the third man on sledge, as
Hayward has been on all the afternoon. Wind veered two points to south,
so we had a fair wind. An hour before we camped Erebus and Terror
showing up, a welcome sight. Only hope wind will continue. Drift is
worst thing to contend with as it gets into our clothes, which are wet
through now. Camped 8 o’clock. Cooked in the dark, and turned in in our
wet sleeping-bags about 10 o’clock. Distance about eight or nine miles.
“_March_ 5, _Sunday_.—Turned out 6.15. Overslept a little; very tired
after yesterday. Sun shining brightly and no wind. It seemed strange
last night, no flapping of tent in one’s ears. About 8.30 came on to
drift again. Under way 9.20, both sails set. Sledge going hard,
especially in soft places. If Hayward had not broken down we should not
feel the weight so much. Lunch 12.45. Under way at 3. Wind and drift
very heavy. A good job it is blowing some, or else we should have to
relay. All land obscured. Distance about ten or eleven miles, a very
good performance. Camped 7.10 in the dark. Patients not in the best of
trim. I hope to get in, bar accidents, in four days.
“_March_ 6, _Monday_.—Under way 9.20. Picked up thirty-two mile depot
11 o’clock. Going with a fair wind in the forenoon, which eased
somewhat after lunch and so caused very heavy work in pulling. It seems
to me we shall have to depot someone if the wind eases at all. Distance
during day about eight miles.
“_March_ 7, _Tuesday_.—Under way 9 o’clock. Although we turn out at 5
it seems a long time to get under way. There is double as much work to
do now with our invalids. This is the calmest day we have had for
weeks. The sun is shining and all land in sight. It is very hard going.
Had a little breeze about 11 o’clock, set sail, but work still very,
very heavy. Hayward and Skipper going on ahead with sticks, very slow
pace, but it will buck them up and do them good. If one could only get
some fresh food! About 11 o’clock decided to camp and overhaul sledges
and depot all gear except what is actually required. Under way again at
2, but surface being so sticky did not make any difference. After a
consultation the Skipper decided to stay behind in a tent with three
weeks’ provisions whilst we pushed on with Smith and Hayward. It seems
hard, only about thirty miles away, and yet cannot get any assistance.
Our gear is absolutely rotten, no sleep last night, shivering all night
in wet bags. I wonder what will be the outcome of it all after our
struggle. Trust in Providence. Distance about three and a half miles.
“_March_ 8, _Wednesday_.—Under way 9.20. Wished the Skipper good-bye;
took Smith and Hayward on. Had a fair wind, going pretty good. Hope to
arrive in Hut Point in four days. Lunched at No. 2 depot. Distance
about four and a half miles. Under way as usual after lunch; head wind,
going very heavy. Carried on until 6.30. Distance about eight or nine
miles.
“_March_ 9, _Thursday_.—Had a very bad night, cold intense. Temperature
down to —29° all night. At 4 a.m. Spencer-Smith called out that he was
feeling queer. Wild spoke to him. Then at 5.45 Richards suddenly said,
‘I think he has gone.’ Poor Smith, for forty days in pain he had been
dragged on the sledge, but never grumbled or complained. He had a
strenuous time in his wet bag, and the jolting of the sledge on a very
weak heart was not too good for him. Sometimes when we lifted him on
the sledge he would nearly faint, but during the whole time he never
complained. Wild looked after him from the start. We buried him in his
bag at 9 o’clock at the following position: Ereb. 184°—Obs. Hill 149°.
We made a cross of bamboos, and built a mound and cairn, with
particulars. After that got under way with Hayward on sledge. Found
going very hard, as we had a northerly wind in our faces, with a
temperature below 20°. What with frost-bites, etc., we are all
suffering. Even the dogs seem like giving in; they do not seem to take
any interest in their work. We have been out much too long, and nothing