South: The Story of Shackleton's Last Expedition, 1914-1917
ahead to cheer us up but a cold, cheerless hut. We did about two and a
half miles in the forenoon; Hayward toddling ahead every time we had a
spell. During lunch the wind veered to the south with drift, just right
to set sail. We carried on with Hayward on sledge and camped in the
dark about 8 o’clock. Turned in at 10, weary, worn, and sad. Hoping to
reach depot to-morrow.
“_March_ 10, _Friday_.—Turned out as usual. Beam wind, going pretty
fair, very cold. Came into very soft snow about 3; arrived at Safety
Camp 5 o’clock. Got to edge of Ice Barrier; found passage over in a bay
full of seals. Dogs got very excited; had a job to keep them away. By
the glass it looked clear right to Cape Armitage, which is four and a
half miles away. Arrived there 8 o’clock, very dark and bad light.
Found open water. Turned to climb slopes against a strong
north-easterly breeze with drift. Found a place about a mile away, but
we were so done up that it took until 11.30 to get gear up. This slope
was about 150 yds. up, and every three paces we had to stop and get
breath. Eventually camped and turned in about 2 o’clock. I think this
is the worst day I ever spent. What with the disappointment of not
getting round the Point, and the long day and the thought of getting
Hayward over the slopes, it is not very entertaining for sleep.
“_March_ 11, _Saturday_.—Up at 7 o’clock; took binoculars and went over
the slope to look around the Cape. To my surprise found the open water
and pack at the Cape only extended for about a mile. Came down and gave
the boys the good news. I think it would take another two hard days to
get over the hills, and we are too weak to do much of that, as I am
afraid of another collapsing. Richards and Wild climbed up to look at
the back of the bay and found the ice secure. Got under way 10.30, went
round the Cape and found ice; very slushy, but continued on. No turning
now; got into hard ice shortly after, eventually arriving at Hut Point
about 3 o’clock. It seems strange after our adventures to arrive back
at the old hut. This place has been standing since we built it in 1901,
and has been the starting-point of a few expeditions since. When we
were coming down the bay I could fancy the _Discovery_ there when Scott
arrived from his Farthest South in 1902, the ship decorated rainbow
fashion, and Lieutenant Armitage giving out the news that Captain Scott
had got to 82° 17´ S. We went wild that day. But now our homecoming is
quite different. Hut half-full of snow through a window being left open
and drift getting in; but we soon got it shipshape and Hayward in. I
had the fire going and plenty of vegetables on, as there was a fair
supply of dried vegetables. Then after we had had a feed, Richards and
Wild went down the bay and killed a couple of seals. I gave a good menu
of seal meat at night, and we turned in about 11 o’clock, full—too
full, in fact. As there is no news here of the ship, and we cannot see
her, we surmise she has gone down with all hands. I cannot see there is
any chance of her being afloat or she would be here. I don’t know how
the Skipper will take it.
“_March_ 12, _Sunday_.—Heard groans proceeding from the sleeping-bags
all night; all hands suffering from over-eating. Hayward not very well.
Turned out 8 o’clock. Good breakfast—porridge, seal, vegetables, and
coffee; more like a banquet to us. After breakfast Richards and Wild
killed a couple of seals whilst I made the hut a bit comfy. Hayward can
hardly move. All of us in a very bad state, but we must keep up
exercise. My ankles and knees badly swollen, gums prominent. Wild, very
black around joints, and gums very black. Richards about the best off.
After digging hut out I prepared food which I think will keep the
scurvy down. The dogs have lost their lassitude and are quite frisky,
except Oscar, who is suffering from over-feeding. After a strenuous
day’s work turned in 10 o’clock.
“_March_ 13, _Monday_.—Turned out 7 o’clock. Carried on much the same
as yesterday, bringing in seal blubber and meat. Preparing for
departure to-morrow; hope every one will be all right. Made new dog
harness and prepared sledges. In afternoon cooked sufficient seal meat
for our journey out and back, and same for dogs. Turned in 10 o’clock,
feeling much better.
“_March_ 14, _Tuesday_.—A beautiful day. Under way after lunch. One
would think, looking at our party, that we were the most ragged lot one
could meet in a day’s march; all our clothes past mending, our faces as
black as niggers’—a sort of crowd one would run away from. Going pretty
good. As soon as we rounded Cape Armitage a dead head wind with a
temperature of –18° Fahr., so we are not in for a pleasant time.
Arrived at Safety Camp 6 o’clock, turned in 8.30, after getting
everything ready.
“_March_ 15, _Wednesday_.—Under way as usual. Nice calm day. Had a very
cold night, temperature going down to –30° Fahr. Going along at a
rattling good rate; in spite of our swollen limbs we did about fifteen
miles. Very cold when we camped; temperature –20° Fahr. Turned in 9
o’clock.
“_March_ 16, _Thursday_.—Up before the sun, 4.45 a.m. Had a very cold
night, not much sleep. Under way early. Going good. Passed Smith’s
grave 10.45 a.m. and had lunch at depot. Saw Skipper’s camp just after,
and looking through glass found him outside tent, much to the joy of
all hands, as we expected him to be down. Picked him up 4.15 p.m. Broke
the news of Smith’s death and no ship. I gave him the date of the 17th
to look out for our returning, so he had a surprise. We struck his camp
and went north for about a mile and camped. We gave the Skipper a
banquet of seal, vegetables, and black currant jam, the feed of his
life. He seems in a bad way. I hope to get him in in three days, and I
think fresh food will improve him. We turned in 8 o’clock. Distance
done during day sixteen miles.
“_March_ 17, _Friday_.—Up at 5 o’clock. Under way 8 a.m. Skipper
feeling much better after feeding him up. Lunched a few yards past
Smith’s grave. Had a good afternoon, going fair. Distance about sixteen
miles. Very cold night, temperature –30° Fahr. What with wet bags and
clothes, rotten.
“_March_ 18, _Saturday_.—Turned out 5 o’clock. Had rather a cold night.
Temperature –29° Fahr. Surface very good. The Skipper walked for a
little way, which did him good. Lunched as usual. Pace good. After
lunch going good. Arrived at Safety Camp 4.10 p.m. To our delight found
the sea-ice in the same condition and arrived at Hut Point at 7
o’clock. Found Hayward still about same. Set to, made a good dinner,
and all hands seem in the best of spirits. Now we have arrived and got
the party in, it remains to themselves to get better. Plenty of
exercise and fresh food ought to do miracles. We have been out 160
days, and done a distance of 1561 miles, a good record. I think the
irony of fate was poor Smith going under a day before we got in. I
think we shall all soon be well. Turned in 10.30 p.m. Before turning in
Skipper shook us by the hand with great emotion, thanking us for saving
his life.”
Richards, summarizing the work of the parties, says that the journeys
made between September 1 and March 18, a period of 160 days, totalled
1561 miles. The main journey, from Hut Point to Mount Hope and return,
was 830 miles.
“The equipment,” he adds, “was old at the commencement of the season,
and this told severely at the later stages of the journey. Three Primus
lamps gave out on the journeys, and the old tent brought back by one of
the last parties showed rents several feet in length. This hampered the
travelling in the long blizzards. Finneskoe were also in pieces at the
end, and time had frequently to be lost through repairs to clothing
becoming imperative. This account would not be complete without some
mention of the unselfish service rendered by Wild to his two ill
tent-mates. From the time he remained behind at the long blizzard till
the death of Spencer-Smith he had two helpless men to attend to, and
despite his own condition he was ever ready, night or day, to minister
to their wants. This, in a temperature of –30° Fahr. at times, was no
light task.
“Without the aid of four faithful friends, Oscar, Con, Gunner, and
Towser, the party could never have arrived back. These dogs from
November 5 accompanied the sledging parties, and, although the pace was
often very slow, they adapted themselves well to it. Their endurance
was fine. For three whole days at one time they had not a scrap of
food, and this after a period on short rations. Though they were feeble
towards the end of the trip, their condition usually was good, and
those who returned with them will ever remember the remarkable service
they rendered.
“The first indication of anything wrong with the general health of the
party occurred at about lat. 82° 30´ S., when Spencer-Smith complained
of stiffness in the legs and discolouration. He attributed this to
holes in his windproof clothing. At lat. 83° S., when he gave way, it
was thought that the rest would do him good. About the end of January
Captain Mackintosh showed very serious signs of lameness. At this time
his party had been absent from Hut Point, and consequently from fresh
food, about three months.
“On the journey back Spencer-Smith gradually became weaker, and for
some time before the end was in a very weak condition indeed. Captain
Mackintosh, by great efforts, managed to keep his feet until the long
blizzard was encountered. Here it was that Hayward was first found to
be affected with the scurvy, his knees being stiff. In his case the
disease took him off his feet very suddenly, apparently causing the
muscles of his legs to contract till they could be straightened hardly
more than a right angle. He had slight touches in the joints of the
arms. In the cases of Joyce, Wild, and Richards, joints became stiff
and black in the rear, but general weakness was the worst symptom
experienced. Captain Mackintosh’s legs looked the worst in the party.”
The five men who were now at Hut Point found quickly that some of the
winter months must be spent there. They had no news of the ship, and
were justified in assuming that she had not returned to the Sound,
since if she had some message would have been awaiting them at Hut
Point, if not farther south. The sea-ice had broken and gone north
within a mile of the point, and the party must wait until the new ice
became firm as far as Cape Evans. Plenty of seal meat was available, as
well as dried vegetables, and the fresh food improved the condition of
the patients very rapidly. Richards massaged the swollen joints and
found that this treatment helped a good deal. Before the end of March
Mackintosh and Hayward, the worst sufferers, were able to take
exercise. By the second week of April Mackintosh was free of pain,
though the backs of his legs were still discoloured.
A tally of the stores at the hut showed that on a reasonable allowance
the supply would last till the middle of June. Richards and Wild killed
many seals, so that there was no scarcity of meat and blubber. A few
penguins were also secured. The sole means of cooking food and heating
the hut was an improvised stove of brick, covered with two sheets of
iron. This had been used by the former Expedition. The stove emitted
dense smoke and often made the hut very uncomfortable, while at the
same time it covered the men and all their gear with clinging and
penetrating soot. Cleanliness was out of the question, and this
increased the desire of the men to get across to Cape Evans. During
April the sea froze in calm weather, but winds took the ice out again.
On April 23 Joyce walked four miles to the north, partly on young ice
two inches thick, and he thought then that the party might be able to