A HAT VILÁGRÉSZUTAZÁSOK ÉS FELFEDEZÉSEK

SZERKESZTI HALÁSZ GYULA

II.

SHACKLETONAZ ANTARKTISZ SZÍVÉBEN

SZÁZNYOLCVAN KILOMÉTERRE A DÉLI SARKTÓL

FORDÍTOTTAHALÁSZ GYULA

VILÁGIRODALOM KÖNYVKIADÓVÁLLALATWEILER ÉS TÁRSA KIADÁSA

BUDAPEST

SIR ERNEST SHACKLETON.1874. február 16. – 1922. január 5.

"Never for me lowered banner,Never lost endeavour."      

A Harrow School kis diákjai szomorú szívvel vettek búcsút január 30-án kis pajtásuktól: Rae Shackletontól, akit az édesanyja hirtelen hazahívott az iskolából. Az

édesanya, akit a tengerentúlról érkezett szűkszavú távirat özvegységre juttatott, szívére ölelte gyermekét, a nemzet hősének árváját.

Alig múlt négy hónapja, hogy a boldog és büszke fiú azzal búcsuzott utolsó útjára induló apjától, hogy ő is olyan nagy kutató szeretne lenni, mint "daddy".

Ez a kép, a családjától – két fiától és nagyocska leányától – örökre elszakadó apa megindító képe lebeg előttem, amikor megrendülve olvasom a Montevideóból lecsapó táviratot: Shackleton meghalt! *

Mennyivel más visszhangot ver ez a jóvátehetetlen hír, mint ama másik, négyezer szavas diadalmas beszámoló, amely Új-Zélandról most tizenhárom esztendeje röpítette világgá a hírt, hogy Shackleton hadnagy, miután végrehajtotta "a sarki kutatások egyik legcsodálatosabb hőstettét", útban van hazafelé!

* Shackleton szikratávírójának valami baja esett. Hajója, a Quest, január 4-én délután futott be Grytvikenbe, a Dél-Amerika déli csúcsától keletre fekvő South Georgia szigetén. Itt érte másnap hajnalban a halál. Shackleton tetemét egy norvég bálnavadászhajó elhozta Montevideóba. Vele együtt érkezett meg a gyász első híre, 1922. január 30-án. Azóta visszavitték a hőst halála színhelyére, és ott az "Antarktisz kapujában" helyezték nyugalomra a grytvikeni angol templom kriptájában.

"Az emberek kővé meredtek az ámulattól ... Ritkán aratott férfiú ily dicsőséges győzelmet, de ritkán is szolgált rá ember ennyire a győzelemre!"

Az elismerésnek és hódolatnak ezzel a felkiáltásával kezdi Amundsen a déli sarkvidéki fölfedezések történetének azt a fejezetét, amely Shackleton második hatalmas útját beszéli el.

"Sir Ernest Shackleton! Ennek a névnek eleven csengése van. Ha halljuk, egy férfiút látunk magunk előtt, akinek a szemeiből rendíthetetlen akaraterő és határtalan bátorság sugárzik."

Így ír a vértanú hősről, legnagyobb versenytársa, az egyetlen élő emberi lény, akinek a lába (négy társáéval) valaha a déli sark örök havát tapodta.

Emlékszem az acélkék szemek mély pillantására 1910 januárjában – kerek egy esztendővel azután, hogy visszafordult elcsigázott csapatával a déli sark küszöbéről – előadó körútján Budapestet is útba ejtette az utazó. A Magyar Földrajzi Társaság meghívására jött el hozzánk. Az előadást tea előzte meg, amely egyenes folytatása volt a hosszúra nyúlt ebédnek. Shackleton a fölolvasás előtt egy órával ott akart lenni a Múzeum termében. Autó nem volt – kocsin kellett vinnünk hírneves vendégünket. E sorok íróját érte a váratlan kitüntetés, hogy elkísérje az előadás színhelyére és kalauzolja addig is, amíg az elnök és a többiek megérkeznek.

Sohasem felejtem el a megilletődést, ami elfogott, amikor a kocsi ajtaja becsapódott és magamra marad tam – a déli sark legnagyobb hősével. A föld túlsó végéről hozott fényképek üveglemezeinek kényes gyűjteménye szíjas bőrtokban a lábunknál hevert. Kínos érzésem, hogy a nagy utazónak csak ilyen szűk kocsi jutott a vendégszerető magyar fővárosban, pillanatról-pillanatra fokozódott bennem, ahogy közeledtünk a Múzeum felé. Melyik bejáróhoz hajtassak?! Emlékeztem rá, hogy a Múzeumkert kapuit bezárják éjszakára. Az utcákon égnek már a lámpák – este van. A múzeumkörúti főbejáró mellett döntöttem: azt talán nyitva találom, hiszen a közönség is arrólfelől érkezik. Csalódás! A kaput még nem nyitották ki. Gyerünk hamar a Sándor-utcába! Késő. A vasajtó már zárva! Hajrá vissza a körúti bejáróhoz ... Ügygyel-bajjal bejutottunk. Már csak az épület van hátra. Homályos, kongó folyosókon, mellékajtókon lopódzunk be ketten, és ott állunk végre a díszterem ajtajában. Shackleton körülnéz a teremben. Arcáról olvasom le, hogy – kicsi a terem. Nem ilyenekhez szokott. Kipróbáljuk a vetítőgépet, villamoscsengőt. Megállapodunk benne, hogy egyszeri csöngetésre váltjuk a képet, kettős csöngetésre fölcsavarjuk a villanyt. (Azt nem beszéltük meg, miként adjon jelt, hogyha a lemezeket megfordítva dugja be a gépkezelő. Az előadáson néhányszor megesett a baj. A közönség egy részét nem is lepte meg, hiszen a déli sarkon úgyis fejjel lefelé lógnak az emberek.)

Csakhamar megérkezik Lóczy Lajos. A Múzeum igazgatója is előkerül. Mások is szállingóznak. Valakinek eszébe jut, hogy még ráérnénk végigfutni valamelyik gyűjteményen – mutassuk meg vendégeinknek az állattárat. Megyünk teremről-teremre. Shackleton kötelességszerűen bólogat. Az egyik teremben vezetőnk fölélénkül, és büszkén mutat rá valami kopott madárformájú állatokra. Pirulva látom, hogy – pingvinek szegények.

Shackleton odanéz és ennyit mond csak: – Subantarctic! Ami körülbelül annyit jelent, hogy ezek az apró jószágok bizony csak amolyan félig "mérsékelt égövi" pingvinek.

Rögtön megígéri, hogy mihelyt hazakerül, küld ő nekünk igazi, hamisítatlan antarktikus pingvineket. Szavának állt. Shackleton kitömött pingvinjei ma is érdekes látványoSSágai múzeumunk állattárának.

No de sietnünk kell vissza a nagyterembe. Kezdődik az előadás...

Másnap este az Országos Kaszinó zöldtermében gyűltünk össze Shackleton tiszteletére. Volt alkalmunk ismét megfigyelni szélesvállú, megtermett alakját, amint gyors léptekkel jön felénk erőteljes, kissé tengerészjárásával. Férfias termetét a frakk pompásan érvényre juttatja. Simára borotvált "angolos" arca kevéssé hasonlít ahhoz a szinte nőiesen finom, fiatalított képmásához, amely könyvének első lapját ékesíti. Arca a valóságban sokkal kifejezőbb, a gondok és szenvedések máris eltörülhetetlenül reávésték a maguk lehelletnyi barázdáikat.

– How do you do! – fordul oda mindenegyikünhöz, amint sorra megrázza kezünket kemény szorítással. A derült, közvetlen hangulatú baráti vacsorán sok szó esett a sarki

szánexpedíciók végnélküli koplalásairól, amikor az utazók ilyen lakomákról beszélgettek és álmodoztak. Akkor még nem értettem a maró éhségnek ezt a szinte lírai epedését – a fölkorbácsolt vágynak ez az emésztő fájdalma semmivel sem kevésbé komolyságos, mint a szerelem örök sóvárgása...

A körúti mulató színpadán szökdécselő kis angol táncosleányok aligha sejtették ezen az estén, hogy az egyik emeleti páholyból egy világhírű honfitársuk szeme szegeződik rájuk – a meggyötrött és mosolygó szempár, amelyben alig hónapokkal előbb ott tükröződött a világ legdermesztőbb jégsivataga.

Immár örökre lezárultak a végtelenségbe néző kék szemek, mielőtt megláthatták volna negyedszer a borzalmasságukban is feledhetetlenül elbűvölő sarki tájakat. Mert feledhetetlen és elbűvölő a sarkvidék. "A sarki vidék nagyszerűsége" – írja Shackleton – "olyan erővel ragadja meg a szívét azoknak, akik benne éltek valamikor, hogy ezt alig érthetik meg az emberek, akik soha nem jutottak túl a civilizáció kerítésén."

Akik láttuk azt a képzeletet lenyűgöző sarki filmcsodát, amelyet éppen Shackleton hozott haza harmadik sarkvidéki utazásából: megértjük a varázst. De talán még jobban megértjük, ha valakin a borzalom és a szenvedések emlékei kerekednek felül, mint az ifjú Evans parancsnokon, a hősi halált halt Scott útitársán, akit Budapesten jártakor megkérdeztünk, nem készül-e visszatérni a sarkvidékre. Evans gyermekien derűs szemében fölrémlett az iszonyodás, és csak ennyit felelt: "Soha többé!"

Shackleton nem ezek közül az emberek közül való volt. Őt örökre rabul ejtette a jégvilág ünnepi csöndje, a végtelen hómezőkön végigcikázó nap kápráztató színjátéka, az úszó jéghegyekkel teleszórt tengerek délibábos csodája.

"Az embereket különböző okok csábítják ki a nagyvilágba. Egyiket a puszta kalandvágy, másikat a tudományos megismerés ösztönzi. Vannak ismét, akiket az Ismeretlen rejtelmes varázsa csalogat le csábos hangjával a járt ösvényekről. Én azt hiszem, az én esetemben mindez összejátszott, hogy arra késztessen: próbáljak szerencsét még egyszer a fagyos déli kontinensen."

Ezzel a vallomással fog bele második útjának regényes történetébe.

Megjósolta, hogy ott fog elveszni a messze délen, s neki is a "végtelen sarkvidékekre reáboruló mennybolt lesz majdan szemfedője". "I shall go on going till one day I shall not come back... Megyek, megyek, míg majd egy nap... nem jövők vissza." Ez a nap elkövetkezett. Elindult, negyedszer is, hogy soha többet ne térjen vissza. 1922. január 5-én hajnalban fél négykor megállt a szíve, percekig tartó tusa után. Hajóján, a Roaring Forties borzalmas karácsonyi viharából szerencsésen partot ért Questen érte utol a halál South Georgia szigetén, huszadik évfordulóján annak a napnak, amelyen a Scott parancsnoksága alatt álló angol nemzeti délsarki expedícióval első ízben hajózott át a déli sarkkörön. A megoldhatatlan örök Kérdésre, amely hajója nevében is ott lebeg: a Halál adta meg a végső feleletet.

Shackleton páratlanul nagyszerű sarkutazói pályafutása két évtizedre nyúlik vissza. 1903 nyarán, az Illustrated London News júniusi számaiban találkoztam először a nevével egy megkapóan megírt, fantáziamegmozgató közlemény alatt, amelynek ez volt a címe: Furthest South. Akkoriban tért haza, betegen, a brit nemzeti délsarki expedícióból a Morning hajón. Az expedíció hajója, a Discovery, csak egy évre rá szabadult a jégből. Shackleton színes elbeszélését mohósággal fordítottam le magyarra. Első kísérletem volt ez a fordítás, s ma, Shackletonról emlékezvén lehetetlen el nem méláznom a sajátságos, talán sorsdöntő összefüggésen az ő hatalmas utazásai és az én kicsiny életem útja között. E nélkül a kezdetleges kis próbálkozás nélkül talán sohsem ér a szerencse, hogy kezet szoríthassak a nagy utazóval, és ma nem hárul reám a szomorú kötelesség, hogy elszoruló szívvel beszámoljak egy diadalmas élet váratlan, tragikus összeomlásáról. A nagy embereknek minden megmozdulása sorsokat irányít. Ők maguk nem is tudnak róla. Vajon a nagy emberek életét nem hasonló, észrevehetetlen okok terelik-e ebbe vagy abba az irányba?

Shackleton tizenhat éves kora óta járta a tengert. Mint tengerésztiszt, kereskedelmi hajókon fiatalon elvetődött a világ minden tájára. Bolyongó hajósélete akkor jutott némi nyugvópontra, amikor a Union-Castle Line szolgálatába lépett. A sokoldalú, kivételes energiájú, nagyszerű szervező tehetséggel megáldott ifjú biztatóan haladt pályáján... amikor jött a döntő sorsfordulat. Meghívást kapott, hogy csatlakozzék a brit délsarki expedícióhoz.

A Scott kapitány parancsnoksága alatt álló fényesen fölszerelt expedíció parányi hajója, a Discovery, 1901 júliusában futott ki London kikötőjéből, hogy Afrika megkerülésével Új-Zélandra vitorlázzék, és onnan egyenesen délnek folytassa kalandos útját, a hatodik világrész felé, amelynek első körvonalait James Clarke Ross expedíciója sejtette meg a múlt század derekán.

A Ross fölfedezte csaknem ezer kilométer hosszú Nagy Jégfal keleti végén vonulnak téli szállásra. De a négyhónapos sarki éjszaka idején is mindvégig folytatják a tudományos megfigyelések munkáját, amelyben Shackleton is tevékeny részt vett. De amellett jut idő vidám szórakozásokra. Előadásokat, vitákat rendeznek, színházat játszanak – egy-egy ünnepi lakomától se riadnak vissza – így például "télközép" napján, amit június 23.án ünnepelnek meg. Még folyóiratuk is van: a South Polar Times. Shackleton szerkeszti. Két vaskos kötetben adták ki később Angliában. Scott kapitány elbeszéli, mennyire meggyűlt a baja a szerkesztőnek a – gyönge kéziratokkal. Ezeket "elrettentésül" a Blizzard (hóvihar) című melléklapban adja ki Shackleton.

Tavasz nyíltával, 1902 szeptemberében, előkészítő szánutazásokra indulnak különféle irányokba. Az egyik nyugat felé megy a Victoria-föld belsejébe, a másik a téli szállás környékét kutatja át. A harmadik dél felé nyomul előre. Ebben a "felderítő" csoportban vesz részt Shackleton. A hajótól másfélszáz kilométerre elhelyeznek hat hétre való eleséget a nagy déli előnyomulás megkönnyítésére. Scott kapitány, Wilson dr. és Shackleton táraságában, november 2-án indul 19 kutyával nagy déli szánútjára. Tizenegy nappal később átlépik a 79. szélességi fokot, s ezzel leverik a norvég Borchgrevink rekordját, aki 1900-ban a 78° 50' déli szélességig hatolt a szárazföldi

jégtakarón. Ettől fogva minden lépésükkel új területet hódí tanak meg. Új földet fedeznek föl, a Dél-Victoria-föld folytatását. Végső pontjukról, a 82° 17' szélességről, az év utolsó napján fordulnak vissza. Ha kutyáik rejtélyes módon meg nem betegszenek és sorra el nem pusztulnak, bizonyos, hogy Scott már ezen az expedícióján mélyen behatol az új föld belsejébe. Szerencse azonban, hogy nem kockáztatta meg a további előnyomulást.

December 21-én Wilson megsúgja Scottnak, hogy "Shackleton foghúsa aggodalomra ad okot." Karácsony estéjén "Shackleton foghúsa rosszabbul van". De azért még vidáman ünneplik meg a karácsonyt. "Ünnepi vacsoránk előtt illendőképpen megmosakodtunk és megfésülködtünk... Olyan sűrű pemikánlevest főztunk, hogy a kanál megállott benne. Aztán a kakaóra került a sor. Amíg ez főtt, észreveszem, hogy Shackleton titokzatosan kotorászni kezd batyujában, és előhúz belőle egy – félharisnyát. A harisnya fejéből egy kis kerek tárgyat varázsol elő, akkorát, mint egy cricketlabda, amely semmi egyéb nem volt, mint egy pompás plumpudding. Még egyszer beleváj ebbe az ő "bőségszarujába," és előszed belőle egy mesterségesen összenyomorgatott kis karácsonyfát. Puddingunkat hamar megmelegítettük a forró kakaóban. Ez egyszer nem behunyt szemmel osztoztunk – (Máskor ugyanis, a lassú éhezés hétköznapjaiban, így osztoznak. Három részre osztják sovány napi adagjukat, egyikük hátat fordít, és úgy felel a társasjátékszerű kérdésre: Kinek adjam ezt? – Ugyanígy cselekednek Shackleton és társai a nagy déli utazáson l908–9-ben.)

Újév napján Scott ezt jegyzi naplójába: "Kutyáinkat már csaknem ölben kell vinnünk." Olykor verejtékeznek a melegtől (!), havazik és a hó elolvad ruhájukon. Éjjel menetelnek. Jan. 13- "Shackletonon mind erősebben mutatkoznak a skorbut jelei". Másnap "Shackleton foghúsa aggasztóan dagadt és sötét. Lélegzete el-elfullad. Sokat köhög és ma vért is köpött". Január 15-én megölik utolsó kutyájukat. Shackletont néha már föl kell ültetni a szánra. De nem hagyja legyűrni magát. Február 3-án elérik a hajót. 93 nap alatt 1500 kilométeres utat jártak be. A téli szálláson ott ta lálják a Morning hajót.

Scott kapitány ívet köröztet: írják alá azok, akik haza szeretnének menni a segítőhajóval. Nyolcan írják alá. A tisztek közül senki. Scott azonban kénytelen megmondani Shackletonnek, hogy nem maradhat. "Nagy szomorúsággal nyugszik bele".

Ki tudja, nem akkor fogant-e már meg agyábon, hogy – csak azért is visszajön a frontra, hadvezérként, a maga tulajdon csapatai élén.

Shackletont nem törte meg a betegség. Sem testileg, sem lelkileg. Nem is volt rá oka, hogy kudarcot lásson hazatérésében, hiszen az expedíció akkor már megoldotta fő feladatát, és Scott is hazatér, ha a hajót sikerül a jégből kiszabadítani. A rákövetkező évben hajszálon múlt, hogy a Discovery-t veszni hagyva Scott maga is nem a segítőhajón tért vissza hazájába – segítőhajón, amelynek a fölszerelésével a déli sarkvidéki viszonyokban otthonos Shackleton hadnagyot bízta meg a brit tengernagyi hivatal. Ezúttal két segítőhajó – a Morning és a Terra Nova – ment a messze délre a

bajban levő Discovery s utasainak a megmentésére, azzal a szigorú paranccsal, hogy most már ha törik-szakad, jöjjön haza Scott kapitány, minden emberével, tekintet nélkül a netalán még megoldásra váró tudományos feladatokra. A Discovery vándorai fájó szívvel át is költöztek már minden kincsükkel és készleteikkel a segítőhajóra, – de ezenközben megfeszített erővel munkálkodnak a jég átfűrészelésén, az utolsó órában váratlanul sikerül nekik, robbantások segítségével, a hajót kiszabadítaniok. Főleg persze a természet segít nekik. Megkapó szavakkal emlékezik meg Scott kapitány a boldog pillanatról, amikor meg remegett lábuk alatt a Discovery, amelytől már-már örökre elszakadni készültek: "...Amint aztán az utolsó jégtömeg is elúszott lassanlassan a nyílt tenger felé, méltóságteljesen körülfordult a mi jó hajónk, s himbálózni kezdett csöndesen a kék vízen, amely újból körülnyaldosta oldalait. A mi jó hajónk, amely két esztendőn át volt otthonunk, és amelynek sorsáért oly sok aggodalmat szenvedtünk, szabaddá vált újra, hogy elvigyen bennünket messze hazánkba". (The Voyage of the ,Discovery'. Magyarul: Angolok a déli sarkvidéken.)

A Discovery-expedíció végleges hazatérésének az esztendeje (1904) Shackleton életében is nevezetes állomást jelent. Senki sem hitte volna, amikor azidőtájt házasságának hírét olvasta (akárcsak parancsnoka, Scott kapitány, ő is családot alapított a sarkvidék boldogtalan magányában töltött küzdelmes évek után) – senki sem hitte, hogy valaha újabb kalandos vállalkozásokba bocsátkozzék az utazó. Pedig már akkoriban el volt rá szánva, hogy expedíciót szervez a déli sarkvidékre, az első expedíciót, amelynek nyíltan bevallott célja a sark elérése. Ekkor mutatkozott mg Shackleton legyőzhetetlen energiája, önbizalma és az egyéniségéből kisugárzó szuggesztív erő. Merőben magánúton, minden állami támogatás nélkül, tisztán a maga szavainak és érveinek meggyőző erejére támaszkodva teremtette elő az expedíció jelentékeny anyagi eszközeit. Megvásárolta és fölszerelte a Nimrod hajót és 1907 nyarán útra kelt csapatával.

Ez az expedíció, mind rekordverő sikerét, mind tudományos, eredményeit, mind pedig emberi érdekességét tekintve a legnagyszerűbbek közé tartozik, amelyek valaha jártak a déli sarkvidéken. Talán csak az elsüllyedt Endurance robinsoni drámája és a szomorú emlékű, második Scott-expedíció múlja felül megrázó tragikumával. Kérdés azonban – sőt nem is kérdéses – hogy Shackleton úttörő, diadalmas előnyomulása nélkül Scott eljuthatott volna-e valaha a föld déli pólusára. A déli sark országútját Scott mutatta meg (Shackleton társaságában), és – Shackleton építette ki. Ő volt az, aki az önmaga föltárta déli kontinens "országútján" az első nyomokat taposta... és ezek a lábnyomok csaknem magára a sarkra vezetnek.

Shackleton hajója, a Nimrod, 1908 Újév napján hagyta el a új-zélandi Lyttelton kikötőjét. Néhány hétre rá, viharos út után, Shackleton tizenötödmagával partra szállott a Discovery téli szállása közelében. A hajó sietve visszafordult, hogy Scott hajójának a sorsára ne jusson. A magára maradt kis csapat azonnal munkához látott. Egyik csoportjuk az ausztráliai David professzor vezetésével még márciusban megmászta az Erebust, a hatalmas gőzölgő tűzhányót, amely négyezer méternél magasabbra emelkedik ki egyenesen a tenger tükréből. Ugyancsak David vezette azt a három hónapig tartó expedíciót, amely 1908 október 5-én indult észak felé, és január 16-án

kitűzte a Union Jack-et a déli mágneses sarkon (a 72° 25' déli szélességen). a következő ünnepélyes szavak kíséretében: "Ezennel birtokba veszem a brit birodalom nevében ezt a területet, amelyen ez idő szerint van a déli mágneses sark". Február 3-án már-már válságos helyzetben bukkant rájuk az időközben Új-Zélandról visszatért Nimrod hajó, amely azután visszavitte őket a téli szállásra.

A téli szálláson napról-napra várták vissza Shackletont, aki negyedmagával október 29-én indult el a déli sark felé. Március első napján szerencsésen meg is érkezik a hajóra – másodmagával! Egyik társát, Marshallt, két nappal előbb kénytelen volt hátrahagyni. Ápolására Adams is vele maradt. Shackleton és Wild – ugyanaz a Wild, aki most, a vezér halála után átvette az elárvult Quest-expedíció vezetését – gyors iramban igyekeztek tovább, és másnap este, 28-án, el érték a téli tanya – üres kunyhóját. Társaik közül senki, de senki! Helyettük levelet talált Shackleton: a hajó valamennyi csoportot fölvette és a Gleccsernyelvnél fog várni rájuk – február 26-áig!

Válságos pillanat. Ha legalább föl tudnák gyújtani a mágnességi kunyhót vagy kitűzni a segítségkérő lobogót! Erejük elhagyta őket. Nem sikerült megkötni a csomót. Dideregve töltötték el az éjszakát komor gondok közepette.

Másnap reggel sikerült fölgyújtani a kunyhót, a lobogót is kitűzték, és két órával később biztonságban voltak a hajó födélzetén, – amely mégis megvárta őket. Shackleton három pihent emberével még aznap visszafordult társaiért, és 4-én valamennyien együtt voltak a hajón, amely 9 napra rá kikötött velük Új-Zélandon.

Száz nappal később pedig készen volt az a pompásan megírt munka, amelyben Shackleton elbeszéli utazásának élményeit. (The Heart of the Antarctic.) Shackleton a déli sark felé vivő útjában már az első hetekben túlszárnyalta a Discovery-expedíció legdélibb pontját. Ettől fogva olyan szélességeken járt, ahol még nem fordult meg utazó. December elején magas hegység alá értek. A hegyről jégár ereszkedik alá a déli kontinenst szegélyző, lassú mozgásban levő jégsivatagra (a "barrier" jegére). A gleccseren keresztül csigalassúsággal folytatják útjukat mondhatatlan küzdelmek között. Lovaik sorra kidőltek. Meredek jégesések, szakadékok meg-megakasztották a kínosan vergődő utazókat. Karácsony napján enyhén emelkedő fennsíkra értek, amely innen túl – most már tudjuk – egészen a sarkig terjed. Január 9-én útjuk végső pontján, 88° 23' szélességen kitűzték a lobogót, 3500 méter tengerszínfeletti magasságban. A sarktól már csak 180 kilométer választotta el a halálra fáradt vándorokat.

* A népszerű kiadás címe: Shackleton in the Antarctic. Being the story of the British Antarctic Expedition 1907–1909. By Sir Ernest Shackleton. (London. William Heinemann 1911). Könyvünk ennek a munkának teljes fordítása, megtoldva a nagy kiadás némely érdekes adatával.

Gyors menetben igyekeztek visszafelé. Néha már csak erejük végső megfeszítésével sikerült elérniök az élelmiszer-állomásokat – saját lovaik tetemeit! Az egyik ló húsától vérhasba estek. Amikor utolsó lovuk december 7-én nyomtalanul eltűnt egy szakadékban, már csak a maguk legyengült erejére számíthattak.

Nyolc hegyláncot fedeztek föl. Egy helyütt mészkőben szénrétegre bukkantak, bizonyságául annak, hogy ebben az élettelen néma világban valamikor enyhe éghajlat uralkodott, madárdaltól hangos rengetegek, virágos rétek díszlettek ...

Százhuszonhét nap alatt, amelyből hét nap ki sem mozdultak sátrukból, 2776 kilométert jártak meg, mindvégig gyalogszerrel. Ebből 1940 kilométer esik arra az időre, amikor már egyetlen lovuk sem volt. Hogy ezt a szinte emberfölötti erőfeszítést csak annyira-amennyire megközelítőleg megérthessük, kísértsük meg belegondolni magunkat abba a szerepbe, hogy a legkegyetlenebb téli hófúvások idején el kell indulnunk Budapestről Galántán, Zsolnán és a hófödte Kárpátokon keresztül Oderbergbe, onnan Breslauba. Breslaun túl utolsó lovunk is elpusztul, mi megyünk tovább Berlinbe, föl a Keleti-tenger partjára, keresztül a befagyott tengeren, és meg sem állunk Koppenhágáig –azaz, hogy ott sem állunk meg, hanem szépen visszafordulunk, és ugyanazon az úton visszavánszorgunk Budapestre. Koppenhága helyett gondolhatunk Nápolyra is vagy Konstantinápolyra: azok is szinte hajszálra olyan messze vannak Budapesttől, a vasúti síneken, mint Shackleton legdélibb pontja (88° 23') a téli szállástól (77° 30'), a megjárt útvonalon. – Légvonalban ez a távolság körülbelül megfelel a Budapest–Stockholm vagy Budapest–Athén közötti távolságnak. És ehhez az ijesztő távolsághoz adjuk még hozzá a földkerekség legnagyobb gleccserén keresztül való kapaszkodót, a föld legsivárabb fennsíkján végigsüvítő délsarki viharokat, vegyük még hozzá a sovány táplálkozást mindvégig, az emésztő aggodalmat, hogy élelmiszer-állomásunkra nem találhatunk rá a hósivatag végtelen egyformaságában – és ne feledkezzünk meg a szánok vontatásáról, – a szánokról, amelyeket egyre könnyebbé váló terhük ellenére egyre fokozódó kínos erőfeszítéssel vontat a déli sark vándora.

Shackleton hatalmas előretörése a sark felé, és a tizenhárom hónap alatt (amelyből négy hónap a sarki éjszakára esik) elért nagyszerű eredmények méltán ejtették ámulatba a világot, amikor 1909 márciusában fölbukkant diadalmas útjáról veszteség nélkül visszahozott csapatával.

1909 márciusában, a déli félgömb őszén hajózott be az ünnepelt utazó a új-zélandi Half Moon öbölbe. Néhány hónapra rá pedig befutott a Nimrod London kikötőjébe. A fogadtatás fényes ünnepségei eszünkbe idézik Nansen keserű szavait: "Valahányszor győzelmet arat egyegy fölfedező: hazatértekor mindenki körülujjongja. Nemzetünk, – az egész emberiség nevében kérkedünk a végrehajtott tettel. Ugyan bizony hányan vannak az ünneplők között, akik ott voltak a vállalkozás készületei idején, amikor hiány volt a legszükségesebb dolgokban, amikor a legégetőbb volt az összefogás és a támogatás?! Vajon akkor is úgy tolongtak az emberek, az elsőségért versenyezve? Ó nem, akkor a kutató-utazó egyedül állt... Columbusi sors".

Még meg sem pihent az utazó az otthon simogató kényelmében – már csak az ünneplések és előadások szakadatlan sora és tüneményes gyorsasággal elkészülő könyvének a megírása sem engedett pihenőt – amikor 1909 szeptemberben egy szó nyilallott a civilizált világon keresztül: egy távirati hír Új-Fundlandról, a nagy Pearytől: "Végre jól csináltam. Megvan a Sark".

Peary nyolcadik makacs előretörésének ez az immár túl nem szárnyalható diadala új lökést adott a déli sarkvidéki kutatásoknak. A norvég Amundsent, újabb északsarki útjának előkészületei közben érte Peary sikerének a híre. A Fram orrát tétovázás nélkül délnek fordította, hogy "kis kitérést tegyen a déli sarkra", mielőtt folytatná útját az Északi Jeges-tenger felé. Iramodásszerűleg "vette be" a sarkot, hasonlíthatatlanul szerencsés körülmények között, 1911. december 15-én. * Öt héttel őutána ért célhoz, Shackleton útvonalán haladva, Scott kapitány hősi csapata. Scott kapitány a déli sarkon magához vette Amundsen hátrahagyott levelét, hogy kézbesítse idehaza a norvég királynak. A levél el is jutott a címzetthez. Scott is hagyott hátra híradást az utána jövőknek. Vajon az ő levelét ki fogja hazahozni?

A balsors üldözte diadalmas csapat visszatérőben – akárcsak Shackleton 1909-ben – sorra reátalált az élelmiszer-állomásokra, amíg csak egy boldogtalan napon a könyörtelen hóvihar sátraikba nem szorította a végső haláltusájukat vívó hősöket. Már csak hárman voltak életben. Két társuk kidőlt. Tetemeik az ismeretlenben nyugosznak a szélsöpörte hósivatagban, ahol valóban – még madár se jár...

A túlélők, ha csak jártányi erejük van, és az ötnapos hóvihar egyetlen nappal később köszönt be – avagy ha csak az olajuk el nem párolog a kannából és meg egy főzetre való tüzelővel és ennivalóval többjük marad! – bizonyára elérhetik a már csak húsz kilométerre levő "Egytonnás depót" – ahol tíz métermázsa élelmiszer volt fölhalmozva.

Megrendítő, lélegzetfojtó és könnyfakasztó olvasni a vergődő vezér utolsó leveleit, amelyekben bejelenti közelgő halálát, szeretettel és magasztalással emlékezik meg halott és halódó társairól, és részvéttel fordul őket váró kedveseikhez. Részvéttel – akinél részvétreméltóbb kegyetlenebbül szenvedő és elhagyatottabb lény nem járt ezen a mi boldogtalan földünkön! Végső szavával kicsi árváját, a kis Péterkét ajánlja nagy és hatalmas nemzete oltalmába.

* Amundsennek ezt a diadalmas útját A Hat Világrész egyik legközelebbi kötete beszéli el.

Ma már négyen vannak az árvák: Scott kicsi fiának társai kerültek – Shackleton árváiban.*

*

A Scott-expedíció öt tagjának drámai pusztulása, s a déli sark kétszeri legyőzetése sem riaszthatta vissza Shackletont, hogy harmadszor is neki ne vágjion a hatodik világrésznek. Amikor Európa esztelen népei elindultak egymás öldöklésére: 1914 világtörténelmi esztendejében Shackleton útra kelt ismét az ember nem lakta világba, hogy szembeszálljon a legkegyetlenebb, mert semleges és közömbös nagyhatalommal: a Természettel.

Shackleton harmadik vállalkozása minden eddigit fölülmúl a program nagyszerűségében és az elgondolás vakmerőségében. Emlékeztet kissé Nansen híres útjára. Nansen is a sarkon keresztül akart elérni a föld túlsó oldalára, minden közbeeső

élelmiszerállomás segítsége nélkül. A déli sarkvidéken ez az útiterv egyedülálló mind a mai napig. Az eddigi expedíciók mind egyegy jól fölszerelt téli szállás menedékébe tértek vissza a maguk taposta lábnyomokon. Shackleton a még körvonalaiban sem ismert bizonytalan déli kontinens egyik végéről készült átvágni a másikra, szárazföldi úton, amely légvonalban is körülbelül akkora távolság, mint Skócia legészakibb pontjától Konstantinápolyig.

El is indult Endurance hajójával (amelyet az Aurora kísért) a Weddell-tengerre, a déli sarkvidéknek arra a tájékára, amely Dél-Amerika csúcsától délre esik. Hajóját a jég foglyul ejtette, összezúzta, és elsüllyedt nyomtalanul a sarki tenger titokzatos mélységeibe. A hajótörés egyik-másik megrázó mozzanatát a rendíthetetlen utazó – csodálatos lelki erővel – meg is örökítette mozgófényképén. A film Budapestre is elkerült. Szívdobogva néztük végig a drámai képek sorozatát, amely elvezetett bennünket a befagyott tengeren keresztül az Elefánt-szigetre, ahol a hajótöröttk téli szállásra vonultak, s ahonnan Shackleton csónakon vágott neki harmadmagával a zajló óceánnak, hogy segítséget vigyen társainak – Dél-Georgia elriasztó partjairól. Csak a végső kétségbeesés sugallhatta ezt az istenkísértő gondolatot. Másfélezer kilométer, jégtáblák zajgása közt, nyitott csónakon! Három esendő emberi lány, kidobva a mérhetetlen, beláthatatlan tenger háborgó hullámaira.

* Shackleton nagyobbik fia, Raymond (Rae) 1905-ben született; lánya, Cecily, két évvel később. A kis Edward fiú hat évvel fiatalabb bátyjánál. – Scott kapitány kis fia Péter, másfél éves volt, amikor atyja (1910-ben) utoljára látta.

És a három magános emberi lény győzelmesen került ki az aránytalan küzdelemből. Csodák csodájára partra vergődött a szigeten, átvágott a 3000 métert meghaladó gleccserborította hegyeken, és az északi part sivár halásztelepén menedékre lelt. A bálnavadászok hajóján, a Southern Sky-on azonnal visszafordult Shackleton a másik robinsoni szigetre, hogy elhozza hajótörött társait.*

A zajgó jég hátrálásra kényszerítette az önfeláldozó vezért. A Falkland-szigeten keresett menedéket. Onnan, Port Stanley kikötőjéből, vágott neki másodszor az uruguayi Insitituto de Pesca No. 1. nevű halászhajóval. Újabb kudarc. Harmadszor Punta Arenasból – a Tűzföldről – próbált szerencsét egy chilei gőzősei, az Emmával. Mindhiába. Az Elefánt-szigetre nem sikerül elvergődnie. Még egy utolsó kísérletet tesz: a chilei kormánytól elkéri a Yelcho gőzöst, és augusztus 25-én útra kel ismét Punta Arenasból. Társait életben találja a szigeten, és kilencednapra, 1916. szeptember 3-án valamennyien biztonságban vannak ismét a kis tűzföldi kikötőben.

* Ennek a megrázó érdekességű utazásnak drámai történetét A Hat Világrész negyedik kötete beszéli el. Címe mindössze ennyi lesz: Dél.

De a mentőexpedícióknak ezzel még mindig nincsen vége. Az antartkikus szárazföld túlsó végén 1917-ben tíz társukat tette partra az Aurora. Shackleton, miután megmentette az Elefánt-sziget hajótörötteit, Új-Zélandon ismét hajóra száll, és hazahozza életben maradt bajtársait a Ross-tenger oly jól ismert, emlékezetes tájairól.

Csak az Aurora-csoport három tagja – Mackintosh, Spencer-Smith és Hayward – nem tért vissza többé.

*

Karácsony estéje. Parányi hajó hánykolódik a "bömbölő negyvenesek" házmagasságú hullámain. A kormánykeréknél egy nagybeteg, halálra ítélt férfiú áll – aggódó tekintete délnek szegeződik a magános messze sziget felé, amelyen – öt esztendeje sincs – mindenéből kifosztva, hajótöröttként, roskadó lábbal tépett partra. A sarkvidék Robinsona ez a férfiú: Sir Ernest Shackleton – egy Robinson, aki önként tér vissza szigetére.

Shackleton negyedik expedíciójának hányatott hajója a Quest, 1921. december 19-én futott ki Rio de Janeiro bájos, hívogató öbléből. Nem rekordverő hódítások – tisztára tudományos célok csábították a nagy utazót még egyszer a déli tengerekre. És az örök emberi szomjúhozás.

Földrajzi, oceanográfiai, földmágnességi és meteorológiai megfigyeléseket és a légi hajózással összefüggő kutatásokat tűzött céljául. Az antarktikus kontinens, amely másfélszerte nagyobb Európánál, szülőhelye a szeleknek és viharoknak, és az élettelen sivatagokra lehulló hó Amerika, Afrika és Ausztrália éghajlatában, időjárásálan érezteti közvetlen hatását. Rengeteg még a kutatni való a déli sarkvidéken. Bármily messzire hatoljanak is be immár a kontinens szívébe a szánnyomok keskeny sínpárjai – magáig a Sarkig! –, beláthatatlan területeket föd még a homály, és hosszú idők rendszeres megfigyeléseire lesz szükség hogy megoldhasson a tudomány olyan problémákat, amelyeket ma még talán – fölvetni sem merészel. A tudomány fogaskerekei egymásba illeszkedve mozgatják és viszik előre a kultúra és a civilizáció lelkes gépezetét – ismeretlen céljai felé.

Shackleton, akinek váratlan, megdöbbentő halálhíre érkezik ugyanarról a kietlen földdarabról, amely kegyelmesen visszaadta az emberiségnek az Endurance hajótöröttjét – a tudomány vértanúja. Fáradt szíve örökre megállította az Antarktisz kapujában.

A nagy Gordon mondása: England was made by her adventurers [Angliát az úttörői hozták létre] – érvényes az egész emberi kultúrára. Ők azok: az úttörők, a nyughatatlan örök vándorok, akiknek messze néző szemei előtt béke lebeg, az emberiség termékeny békéje, amikor önmagukat fölemésztő háborúikba bocsátkoznak.

/Halász Gyula/

ELSŐ FEJEZET.Az expedíció.

Az embereket különböző okok csábítják ki a nagyvilágba. Egyiket a puszta kalandvágy, másikat a tudományos megismerés szomjúsága izgatja. Vannak ismét, akiket az

Ismeretlen rejtelmes varázsa csalogat le csábos hangjával a járt ösvényekről. Én azt hiszem, az én esetemben mindez összejátszott, hogy arra késztessen, próbáljak szerencsét még egyszer a fagyos déli kontinensen.

A Discovery-expedícióról * 1903-ban betegen kerültem haza, egy évvel annak végleges visszatérése előtt.

Mohón vágyakoztam vissza, hogy lássak többet is az örük hó- és jégborította antarktikus szárazföldből. A sarki világ nagyszerűsége olyan erővel ragadja meg a szívét azoknak, akik benne éltek valamikor, hogy ezt alig érthetik meg az emberek, akik soha nem jutottak túl a civilizáció kerítésén. De mindezen felül meg voltam győződve, hogy a várható tudományos eredmények is bőségesen igazolnak egy olyan újabb kutató utat, amilyen szemem előtt lebegett.

A Discovery-expedíció fényes munkát végzett a tudományok nem egy fontos ágában. Méltán számítottam rá, hogy egy második expedíción ezek az eredmények tovább kiépíthetők. Így például nem volt még megállapítva a nagy jégperem déli határa. Nagy fontosságú tudományos érdek fűződött hozzá, hogy megismerkedjünk a nagy jégfalban végződő peremjégnek a mozgásával. Tudni akartam, mit rejteget az a világ. amely túl van a 82° 17' déli szélességről látható hegyeken és hogy vajon a délsarki kontinens hasonló fennsíkban folytatódik-e, mint aminőt Scott kapitány talált, túl a nyugati hegyeken.

* Lásd Scott: Angolok a déli sarkvidéken. (A Magyar Földrajzi Társaság Könyvtára). Átdolgozta Halász Gyula.

Sok tennivaló kínálkozott az éghajlat, állat- és élettan, ásványtan és az általános földtan tudományainak a területén. A kutatásnak olyan távlatai nyíltak, hogy tisztán tudományos érdekből is – az új rekord elérését célzó törekvéstől függetlenül – sokszorosan megokoltnak mutatkozott egy új délsarki expedíció.

Az első nehézség, amelyet le kell gyűrnie a kutatónak, aki ilyen útra vállalkozik: a pénzhiány. Az elém tornyosuló pénzügyi akadályokat kellett legelébb is elhárítanom. Lényegesen csak akkor javult meg a helyzet ezen a téren, amikor megérkeztem Új-Zélandra, és Ausztrália és Új-Zéland kormányai fölajánlották támogatásukat.*

A londoni földrajzi társaság foyóiratában, – a Geographical Journal 1907 márciusi számában – körvonalaztam haditerveimet. Ezt a tervet később kényszerítő körülmények folytán, lényegesen meg kellett változtatnom. "A kilenc, vagy tizenkét emberből álló parti csoport annyi élelmiszerrel és fölszereléssel fog áttelelni, ami elegendő rá, hogy három külön csoportban útra kelhessen tavasszal" – jelentettem akkor tervezetemben. Az egyik kelet felé indul és ha lehetséges a Nagy Jégfalon keresztül veszi útját a VII. Edward király földje néven ismeretes új föld felé. A második csoport délnek nyomul előre, ugyanazon az útvonalon, amerre a Discovery déli száncsapata járt. A harmadik csoport lehetőleg nyugatnak megy a hegyeken át, majd pedig letér a déli mágneses sark irányában. A fölszerelésben újítás lesz, hogy szibériai pónilovakat viszünk magunkkal

mind a déli, mind a keleti szánutazásra, a déli útra ezenkívül egy különlegesen erre a célra megtervezett motoros kocsit. Nem szándékszom föláldozni a tudományos sikert a merő rekordhajhászatnak, de nyíltan megvallom, hogy erősen rajta leszek, hogy elérjem a föld déli földrajzi pólusát."

* Az expedíció egész költsége, a Nimrod hajó vételárával együtt 44.381 font sterling volt.

Tervem szerint 1908 kezdetén keltett hajóra szállnunk Új-Zélandon, hogy néhány hétre reá a délsarki szárazföldön üssük föl az expedíció téli tanyáját. A hajó, az emberek és a készletek partraszállítása után, visszafordul Új-Zélandra. Elkerülvén ilyen módon a hajó befagyását, nem lesz szükség segítő hajóra; a magunk hajója jöhet vissza értünk a következő nyáron.

Még Angliában elhatároztam, hogy ha csak lehet, az Edward király földjén rendezzük be főhadiszállásunkat, és nem a McMurdo-szorosban, ahol a Discovery téli szállása volt. Így egészen új területet tárhatunk föl.

Elbeszélésünkből meg fogjuk látni, miképpen borították föl ezt a tervemet a fejlemények. Főként lovaink tekintélyes részének váratlan elvesztése, még a tél beállta előtt, hiúsította meg, hogy még csak meg is kíséreljük az Edward király földjére tervezett szárazföldi utazásunkat a Nagy Jégfalon keresztül.

Minthogy az expedíció merőben a magam vállalkozása volt, elhatároztam, hogy nem dolgozom semmiféle bizottsággal; ily módon elkerültem minden késedelmet, ami óhatatlan, ha részletkérdésekben egész sereg ember összességének kell döntenie. Aki ilyen expedíció szervezésére vállalkozik, számolnia kell minden eshetőséggel. Ebben a sok körültekintést és gondosságot kivánó munkában megbecsülhetetlen segítőtársra találtam Alfred Reid személyében, aki résztvett már korábbi sarki expedíciók előkészítésében s így beletanult ebbe a mesterségbe. Őt szerződtettem managernek. Irodánkat egy bútorozott szobában rendeztük be, a Regent Streeten.

MÁSODIK FEJEZET.Az élelmiszerek.

Sarki expedíción mindenekfelett való, hogy az élelem elsősorban is egészséges és tápláló legyen a lehető legnagyobb fokban. A skorbutot, ezt a rettegett betegséget, régente elkerülhetetlennek tartották, ha valaki hosszabb időt tölt a sarkvidéken. Élelmiszereink tudományos alapossággal való gondos megválogatásával megelőztünk minden olyas betegséget, amely közvetve vagy közvetlenül a magunkkal vitt eleségnek lett volna tulajdonítható.

Másodsorban lehető könnyűnek kell lennie a szánutakra rendelt élelemnek, figyelembevévén mindamellett, hogy az erősen sűrített tápanyag nehezebben emészthető és kevésbé egészséges, és hogy kemény hidegekben a test melege csak tekintélyes mennyiségű zsíros és lisztes élelmiszerrel tartható fenn. Úgyszintén figyelembe veendő, hogy a szánutazáson az eleség ne kívánjon hosszas főzögetést,

minthogy a magunkkal vihető tüzelő mennyisége szűkre szabott. Sőt főzés nélkül is ehetőnek kell lennie az élelmiszernek, mert hiszen megeshetik, hogy veszendőbe megy, vagy elfogy a tüzelőanyag.

Nagyobb a változatosság lehetősége az expedíció téli szállásán való fogyasztásra szánt élelmicikkekben, mert föltehető, hogy a téli szállás hajóval megközelíthető, s így a súly kérdése nem olyan kényes. Törekvésem volt, hogy a téli éjszakára változatos eleségünk legyen, amikor a viszonyokhoz nem szokott utazót a sötétség hosszú hónapjai anélkül is súlyosan megviselik.

Számításaimban tizenkét embert és két évet vettem alapul, de az eredményhez hozzá kellett később csapnom valamit, amikor Új-Zélandon csapatunk száma megnövekedett.

Eleinte a csomagolás körül merültek föl nehézségek, de végül elhatároztam, hogy Venesta-ládikákat használok mind az élelem, mind lehetőleg a fölszerelési cikkek elcsomagolására. Ezeknek a kis ládáknak az anyaga hármas rétegben egymásra illesztett nyírfa, vagy más kemény faféle, cementtel vízhatlanná preparálva. A ládák mind egyforma méretűek voltak: hosszúságuk hetvenöt, szélességük negyven centiméter körül. Harmadfél ezret rendeltem belőlük. Kiválóképpen megfeleltek céljainknak. Csaknem két kilogrammal voltak könnyebbek a hasonló méretű közönséges gyártmányoknál, és oly szilárdak voltak, hogy sérülés nélkül kibírták a költözködést, amikor a Royds-fokon partra szállottunk. Pedig ugyancsak nem kíméltük őket.

Élelmiszerekből a következőket vittük magunkkal a parti csoport számára, két esztendőre:

3048 kilogramm búzaliszt1600      "     zabliszt, quaker oats, rizs, árpa, tapióka, szágó, borsó, lencse- és babliszt1270     "      szárított főzelék (tápértéke megfelel tízszer annyi nyers főzeléknek)3000     "      konzervhús1200     "      halkonzerv1500     "      leveskonzerv90      "      Oxo, Lemco, és más húskivonat144 doboz marhahús-tápliszt (plasmon)360 kilogramm sült és főtt szárnyas454      "      sonka635      "      szalonna (bacon)770 kilogramm disznó- és marhazsír, marhavelő454      "      pemikán: marhahús és zsírkeverék (hatvan százaléka zsír)454      "      tej454      "      Glaxo tejpor635      "      dán vaj454      "      sajt (főleg Cheddar-sajt)77      "      tojáspor és tojásfehérje144      "      tápliszt-por és "plasmon" kakaó1570      "      kétszersültfélék

1162      "      gyümölcs és gyümölcsíz1150 üveg gyümölcsbefőtt1000 doboz pickles, és más étvágygerjesztők, mártások1120 kilogramm cukor227      "      kakaó160      "      tea (Lipton-féle ceyloni tea)32      "      kávé227      "      só

Ezek közül az élelmiszerek közül egy és más különféle cégek ajándéka volt. Új-Zélandon is kedveskedtek nekünk ajándékokkal: így például harminckét eleven juhot vittünk magunkkal, hogy a sarkvidékre érve öljük le őket, és fagyasztott állapotban eltegyük télire.

Intézkedés történt, hogy a Nimrod, amikor visszafordul értünk a sarkvidékre, külön is hozzon magával még egy teljes esztendőre való élelmiszert, arra az esetre, ha netalán befagyna a hajó és még egy telet kellene ott töltenünk.

HARMADIK FEJEZET. A fölszerelés.

Az élelmiszerek megrendelése után Alfred Reiddel Norvégiába mentem a szánok, sík, prémes lábbelik, kesztyűk, hálózsákok és a fölszerelés egyéb tárgyaiért. Április 22-én (1907-ben) érkeztünk meg Kristianiába. A szánok a Nansen-féle mintára készültek a kristianiai L. H. Hagen és társa cégnél, a Fram-expedíció első hadnagyának Scott-Hansennek tanácsára. Harminc szánt csináltattam, válogatott kitűnő faanyagból, a képzelhető leggondosabb kivitelben: tíz 3,6 méterest, tizennyolc 3,3 méterest és kettőt, amelynek a hossza csak 2,1 méter. A legnagyobbakat pónifogatoknak szántam, a kisebbeket magunk is elhúzhatjuk; a legrövidebb szánok a téli szállás körüli munkákra és kisebb kirándulásokra látszottak alkalmasnak. A szánok száraz kőrisfából és amerikai hickoryfából készültek.

Ugyancsak Hagennél rendeltem tizenkét pár sít. Ezeket a szánutazásokon nem használtuk, de jó szolgálatot tettek a téli szállás körül.

A prémes fölszerelés nem sokból állt; a Discovery-expedíción szerzett tapasztalatok alapján elhatároztam, hogy csak a lábbelit, kesztyűt és hátizsákot csináltatom prémből, minden más ruhafélében a gyapjúnak adok elsőbbséget, ráhúzott szélálló felsőruhával. Három nagy hálózsákot rendeltem, egyenként három-három emberre, és tizenkettőt egyszemélyest. Rénszarvasprémből voltak, prémes oldalukkal befelé fordítva, a szegélyek fölött erősen rávarrt bőrborítás. A kis zsákok szárazon ötödfél kilót nyomtak.

Lábbelinek nyolcvan pár közönséges finneskó-t (rénszarvasprém-csizmát), tizenkét pár különleges finneskót és hatvan pár sícsizmát szereztem. A közönséges finneskót (finn csizmát) a rénszarvas fejbőréből készítik, prémjével kifelé. Akkora, hogy több pár harisnyán felül tengerifűvel is kibélelheti az ember. Bámulatosan meleg és kényelmes

viselet. A "tengerifű" – sennegrass – szárított hosszúszálú fűféle; pompásan magába szívja a nedvességet. Ötven kilogrammot vásároltam belőle Norvégiában. A különleges finn csizma a rénszarvas lábának a bőréből készül. Nehéz szert tenni rá, mert a lappok maguknak szeretik megtartani.

Hatvan pár hosszúszárú, farkasbőr és kutyabőr kesztyűt is rendeltem Norvégiában. Ezt a gyapjúkesztyű fölé húzza az ember; könnyű lerántani a kézről, mert csak két ujja van. Hogy el ne veszítsük, lámpabélre akasztva nyakunk köré kerítettük.

A rendeléskor kikötöttem, hogy valamennyi cikk Londonban legyen június 15-ére.

Ekkoriban még nem volt eldöntve, hogy a Nimrod lesz a mi hajónk. Mielőtt elhagytam Norvégiát, elmentem Sandy-fjordba, egy Christiansen nevű úrhoz; annak volt egy sarkvidéki hajózásra épített pompás új hajója: a Bjorn. Azt szerettem volna megvásárolni. De nem jutottunk dűlőre – drágállottam.

Így hát visszatértem Londonba és megvettem, 5000 font sterlingért, a már korábban fölajánlott Nimrodot, jóllehet ez sokkal szerényebb volt minden tekintetben. Kicsi volt és régi – negyven éves – és jóval lassubb járású: teljes gőzzel tizenegy kilométert tett meg óránkint. Másfelől azonban szilárd volt, alkalmas a torlódó jégben való hajózásra.

New Foundlandből vártuk haza. Amikor június 15-én befutott a Temze folyóba, tüstént megvizsgáltam és kipróbáltam a viharvert, ütött-kopott jószá got, amelyhez esztendők reménységét, és egész sorsunkat készültem hozzáláncolni. Első tekintetre, megvallom, csalódást éreztem. Nem ismertem még sok jó tulajdonságát. Alig néhány hét választott el kitűzött indulásunktól, s a hajó még alapos tatarozásra és átalakításra szorult. Árbocait is újra kellett szerelni. Ezt a sürgős munkálatot a blackwalli R. &. H Green híres régi hajóépítő cégre bíztain, amely már más sarki expedíciók számára is végzett hasonló munkákat. Hajónk napról-napra csinosodott – kezdtem büszke lenni reá.

Kabinok épültek az expedíció tudományos gárdája számára a hátsó hajóüregben, amelybe meredek létrán kellett leszállani. De nem volt elég, hogy a hajón magán gondoskodjunk tűrhető szállásról, a kunyhóról sem volt szabad megfeledkezni, amely otthonunk lesz, a hosszú téli éjszakán, ha majd a Nimrod visszafordul a lakott világba.

A knightsbridge-i Humphreys cégnél rendeltem meg a szétszedhető kunyhót a magam tervei alapján. Elkészülte után Jondonban fölállítottuk, megszemléltük, majd darabokban hajóra raktuk. Az eredetileg tizenkét emberre méretezett kunyhó – egyetlen menedékünk a dühöngő szélviharok idején – meglehetősen szűkös volt, annál is inkább, mert valójában tizenöten szorongtunk benne. És amellett fölszerelés és az élelmiszerek egy részének is helyet kellett benne szorítani.

A kunyhó a legjobb minőségű vastag erdei fenyőből készült. Minden része – falak, tető és padló – csappal és eresztékkel készült, hogy könnyűszerrel fölállíthassuk a déli sarkvidéken. Különös gondot fordítottunk rá, hogy hathatós védelmet nyújtson a rendkívüli hidegben; falait és a tetőt többszörös deszka- és nemezborítással vontuk be,

parafaburkolással. A talajba vagy a jégbe süllyeszthető pillérekre állítottuk az építményt és a tetőzetre gyűrűket szereltünk, hogy vitorlakötélzettel megszilárdítassuk viharok ellen.

Két ajtaja volt, (egy kijárattal), s az ajtók közti tér védett a fagyos légáramlat ellen ajtónyitáskor. Hasonlóképpen kettős ablakok segítettek megőrizni a kunyhó melegét. Belső berendezésül mindössze néhány széket vittünk magunkkal; minden egyéb bútort, ágyat, padot, asztalt ládákba róttunk össze. A kunyhót acetiléngázzal világítottuk. Gázfejlesztőt, csövet, karbidot magunkkal vittük.

Tűzhelyünket a londoni Smith és Wellstead cég szállította. Kőszénnel fűlt, "örökégő" rendszerrel. A magunkkal vitt hordozható pótkályhára nem volt szükség.

A számutazásokra hat alumínium főzőkészüléket vittünk, csekély módosítással ugyanolyan rendszerűt, aminőt Nansen használt híres expedícióján (1893– 1896).*

A szánutazásokra hat könnyű sátrat vásároltam. Egy-két sátor, öt sátorkaróval s a "földre" terített sátorlappal együtt nem nyomott egészen tizennégy kilogrammot. Zöld színűek voltak, mert a zöld szín kellemes a szemnek a fehér hósivatagban.

Az expedíció minden tagja két-két téli ruhát kapott nehéz sötétkék pilótavászonból, Jäger gyapjúszövettel szegélyezve. A teljes öltözet súlya 6,7 kilogramm volt. Az alsó ruhát a dr. Jäger-féle Sanitary Woollen Company szállította.

A sarkvidéken nélkülözhetetlen a "szélálló" felső ruha. A Burberry-féle gaberdine-anyagból rendeltem huszonnégy teljes öltözetet: rövid zubbony, nadrág (trouser overall) és kucsmasisak. A téli szálláson Jäger teveszőrkabátot és teveszőr hálózsákot használtunk.

Elhatároztam, hogy lovakat, kutyákat és egy motoros kocsit viszek a szánok vontatásának megkönnyítésére a tervezett hosszú vándorutakon, de főként a lovakba vetettem bizalmamat. A tapasztalás azt mutatta előző expedíciónkon (1902), hogy a kutyák nem válnak be a nagy jégperemen (Barrier). Ezúttal ugyancsak rámcáfoltak. Annál inkább bíztam a lovakban. Biztosra vettem, hogy az Észak-Kinában és Mandzsu-országban használt erőteljes lovak kitűnően megállják helyüket a jégen, ha sikerül őket szerencsésen partraszállítani. Derekas szolgálatot tettek ezek a lovak a Jackson-Harmsworth-expedícióban és az orosz-japán háborúban.

* Nansennek 1922. június elsején Lysakerben kelt levele, amelyben engedélyt ad híres művének a lefordítására, éppen e sorok írása közben érkezett meg a fordítóhoz. A Hat Világrész első tíz kötetében bizonyára helyet talál a Fram-expedíció megragadó története.

Egy hozzáértő emberrel vásároltattam össze Tiencsinben tizenöt mandzsúriai lovat – kétezer közül. Csupa hámot és nyerget nem látott, be nem tört, izmos, egészséges állatot. Kínából Sydney-n keresztül öt hét alatt Új-Zélandra ért velük a hajó. Ott partra

tették őket, hogy kedvükre hemperegjenek a lytteltoni Quail-sziget dús legelőin, míg szükség nem lesz rájuk.

Korábbi tapasztalásaim alapján számítván rá, hogy Nagy Jégperemen talán kemény lesz a jég felszíne, elhatároztam, hogy gépkocsit viszek magammal. Kiválasztottam egy 12–15 lóerejű Arrol-Johnston-féle kocsit.

Ha nem bíztam is nagyon bennük, volt rá gondom, hogy kutyáink is legyenek. A Borchgrevink-expedíción használt szibériai kutyák ivadékaiból rendeltem táviratilag negyven darabot egy stewart-szigeti kutyatenyésztőtől. Csak kilencet kaphattam belőlük, de ez is elég lett. Számuk a sarkvidéken született kutyakölykökkel huszonkettőre szaporodott.

A sarki expedíciók tudományos felszerelése roppant költséges; gazdaságosságra voltam kényszerítve. Nagy segítségemre volt a brit tengernagyi hivatal, amely nagybecsű, drága műszereket és térképeket adott kölcsön az expedíció céljaira. A londoni földrajzi társaság három kronométert adott kölcsön. A Skinner's Company pedig megajándékozott egy negyedik kronométerórával, amely velem volt egész déli utamon, s valamennyi között a legpontosanak bizonyult. Ezeken kívül tekintélyes számú műszert kellett vásárolnom is: teodolitokat, hőmérőket, aneroidokat, nedvességmérőt, nagyítókat, mikroszkópokat és sok mas egyebet. Kilenc fényképezőgépet és egy mozgófényképezőt vittünk magunkkal; utóbbit, hogy világos fogalmat nyújtsunk a szánok vontatásáról, a sarkvidéki élet eseményeiről, a fókák és pingvinek furcsa mozgásáról és szokásairól.

A tűtől és szegtől el egészen a Remington írógépig és Singer varrógépig a műszerek és szerszámok egész sokaságáról kellett gondoskodnunk. Még grammofonunk is volt, és egy tökéletes nyomdánk. De azért nem feledkeztünk meg a hokiütőkről és a futballról sem.

NEGYEDIK FEJEZET. Az expedíció tagjairól.

Nem volt könnyű dolog kiválogatni a legarravalóbb útitársakat a több mint négyszáz jelentkező közül, akik csatlakozni kívántak az expedícióhoz. Figyelemmel voltam rá, hogy legyen két orvosunk s egy-egy rátermett biológusunk és geológusunk a partraszálló csapat tagjai között.

Hosszas beszélgetés után kiszemeltem tizenegy embert. Közülük hármat – Adams, Wild és Joyce – ismertem korábbról. De csak kettő (Wild és Joyce) tekintett vissza előző tapasztalatokra, a Discovery-expedíció idejéből.* De a többieknek is voltak meleg ajánlásaik. Ugyanígy válogattam ki a Nimrod tisztikarát.

Új-Zélandon az ausztráliai és új-zélandi kormány anyagi támogatása lehetővé tette, hogy a partraszálló csapatot három újabb útitárssal egészítsem ki. Ezek voltak: David

tanár, Mawson és Armytage. Velük s velem együtt a parti csoport most már tizenöt főre szaporodott. Ugyanennyi főből állott a hajó személyzete.

* Scott: Angolok a déli sarkvidéken.

A sarkvidéki partra szálló csoport tagjai:

Ernest Henry Shackleton (1874). Parancsnok. (Nős).Thomas W. Edgeworth David (1857). A sydneyi egyetem geológiatanára. A tudományos megfigyelések vezetője. (Nős).Jameson Boyd Adams (1880). A brit haditengerészet tartalékos hadnagya. 1908 februárjától az expedíció másodparancsnoka.Sir Philip Lee Brocklehurst (1887). Geológus.Raymond E. Priestley (1886). Geológus.Dr. Douglas Mawson (1880). Az adelaide-i egyetem ásvány- és kőzettantanára. Ausztráliában csatlakozott hozzánk. Az expedíció fizikusa.James Murray (1865). Biológus. (Nős).Be[r]nard C. Day (1884). Elektrotechnikus és gépész.Frank Wild (1873). Anyai ágon Cook kapitány leszármazottja. Résztvett a Discovery-expedícióban Az élelmiszerkészletek gondozója.Ernest Joyce (1875). Dél-Afrikában csatlakozott volt a Discovery-expedícióhoz. A kutyák, szánok, készletek és gyűjtemények gondozója.Bertram Armytage (1869). Ausztráliában csatlakozott hozzánk. A lovak gondozója. (Nős).George Edward Marston (1882). Festőművész.Dr. Alistair Forbes Mackay (1878). Orvos.Dr. Eric Stewart Marshall (1879). Orvos. Térképező.William C. Roberts (1872). Szakács. (Nős).

A Nimrod hajó személyzete:

Rupert G. England. Kapitány. A Discovery-expedíció alkalmával a Morning segítőhajó kapitánya volt.John K. Davis. Első tiszt. Később kapitány.Aeneas Lyonel Acton Mackintosh. Második tiszt. Indiai születésű. Átkerült a partraszálló csoporthoz, de baleset folytán nem maradhatott a sarkvidéken. Elvesztette egyik szemevilágátA. E. Harboard. Második segédtiszt.H. J. L. Dunlop. Főmérnök. Írországi.Dr. W. A. R. Michell. Orvos. Kanadai ember.Alfred Cheetham. Harmadik tiszt és kormányos. A Morning segítőhajón szolgált a Discovery-expedíció idejében.W. D. Ansell. Hajópincér.Handcock. Hajópincér.I. Montague. Hajószakács.

G. Bilsby. Hajóács. E. Ellis. Matróz.H. Bull. Matróz.S. Riches. Matróz.J. Paton. Matróz.W. Williams. Matróz.

Velünk jött még Lytteltonból a jég határáig, merő lelkesedésből, George Buckley. Ez a társunk a Koonyával visszafordult. A Koonya hajó parancsnokságát F. P. Evans kapitány vállalta el.

Jegyzet. A partraszálló csoport tagjai közül Frank Wild útitársa volt Shackletonnak az 1914–1917. évi expedíción is. (Lásd: Dél. A Hat Világrész sorozatában). Shackleton utolsó útján (1921–1922) a Quest hajó másodparancsnoka, s a vezér halála után az expedíció parancsnoka. 1922. szeptemberében jött híre, hogy Frank Wild a Quest hajóval, amely januárban, Shackleton halála után, South Georgiából folytatta tengerkutató útját a délsarki óceánban, értékes kartográfiai, hidrográfiai, geológiai és biológiai eredményekkel szerencsésen visszaérkezett. A Quest az Enderby-föld vidékén messze szélességekig nyomult előre, túlhaladta Biscoe és Bellingshausen rekordjait. – Ugyancsak részt vett az 1914.– 1917. évi expedíción G. E. Marston, Aeneas Mackintosh, Ernest E. Joyce és A. Cheetham. – Dr. Douglas Mawson később önálló epedíciót indított a déli sarkvidékre. Ez volt az ún. ausztráliai délsarki expedíció (1911–1914)– R. E. Priest[l]ey részt vett később Scott második vállalkozásában (1910–1914). Lásd: Scott utolsó útja.

ÖTÖDIK FEJEZET.Angliából Új-Zélandra.

Az expedíció előkészületei gyorsan haladtak előre. és 1907. július vége felé megkezdtük a készletek és a fölszerelés hajóra szállítását. Július 30-án a Nimrod útra készen állt. A londoni East India Dockból kihajózva az első éjjelt Greenhithe-ben töltöttük és másnap folytattuk utunkat Torquay felé. Managerünk Tilburyban partra szállt, visszatért Londonba levelekért. Az irodában várt rá a király lovászmesterének távirata, a hírrel, hogy a király és a királyné vasárnap, augusztus 4-én látni óhajtja a Nimrod hajót a wight-szigeti Cowes kikötőjében. A hír Ramsgate közelében a nyílt tengeren ért utol. Útirányunkat megváltoztatva augusztus elsején kikötöttünk Eastbourne-ban és vasárnap horgonyt vetettünk Cowesban.

Edward király és Alexandra királynő, a walesi herceg, Viktória hercegnő, Edward herceg és a connaughti herceg feljöttek a fedélzetre és megszemlélték a messze útra induló hajót. A királyné átadott nekem egy parányi selyemlobogót, hogy tűzzem ki utunk legdélibb pontján. A király a Victoria-renddel tüntetett ki.*

Augusztus 6-án Torqay-ben búcsúpoharat ürítettünk az expedíció sikerére, és a rákövetkező szerdai napon a Nimrod elhagyta az angol partokat. Portugália legdélibb fokán, a Cabo de Sao Vicentén, majd Afrika déli csúcsán, Fokvárosban kötött csak ki rövid időre, és november 23-án megérkezett Új-Zéland deli szigetének főkikötőjébe, Lytteltonba. Reid postahajón egy hónappal megelőzte a Nimrodot, hogy megtegye a

még szükséges előkészületeket. Magam más hajón december elején érkeztem csak meg. Indulásunk Lytteltonból 1908 újév napjára volt kitűzve.

* Shackleton neve után a C. V. O. betűk erre a kitüntetésre vonatkoznak. Jelentése: Companion of the Royal Victorian Order. – A lovagi rangot (Sir) hazatérte után kapta meg, nagyszerű előretörésének és tudományos eredményeinek elismeréséül.

A új-zélandi és ausztráliai nép kezdettől fogva meleg érdeklődést tanúsított. Az ausztráliai Commonwealth kormánya ötezer, a új-zélandi kormány ezer fontot adományozott a költségekre, és elvállalta a Nimrod vontatásának a fele költségét a déli sarkkörig. Ezzel a vontatással sok szenet takarítottunk meg utunk nehezebbik részére. Új-Zéland főpostamestere külön bélyegeket bocsátott ki a mi számunkra; postamester vált belőlem az Antarktiszon – a magunk bélyegével küldhettük haza levelezésünket a téli szállásról.

Lovaink ezalatt vígan élvezték szabadságukat a Quail-szigeten. Gondozóik lassan-lassan "betörték" és hozzáidomították őket a szánhúzáshoz. Nem volt könnyű feladat megzabolázni a féktelen állatokat. Csak tízet vittünk magunkkal. Nem tudom, honnan kapták neveiket, de mindnek volt neve. Így hívták őket: Socks, Quan, Grisi, Chinaman, Billy, Zulu, Doctor, Sandy, Nimrod, Mac. Valóságos istállót építettünk számukra a Nimrod fedélzetén, külön-külön jókora rekeszekkel. Kétszáz métermázsa (700 légmentes láda) kukoricát és öt métermázsa maujee állateleséget raktároztunk el az állatok táplálására a déli sarkvidéken. Ez a szárított marhahús, sárgarépa, tej, aprószőlő és cukorból gyártott tápanyag – apró, egyfontos óndobozokba volt elzárva légmentesen. (Egy angol font 45,4 dekagramm). Száz métermázsa sajtolt takarmányt is vásároltunk: zab-, korpa- és szecskakeveréket. A kutyák részére 15 métermázsa kutyakétszersültet vittünk, ráadásul a fókapecsenyére.

Lázas munka folyt a hajón: készülődés, költözködés. Az Oyster Alley-ben, ahogyan a tudományos kar hajószobáit elneveztük, mozdulni se lehetett a sok cókmóktól. A motoros kocsi hatalmas tokba zárva várta leláncoltan, szabadulását. Kis hajónk mélyen megmerült súlyos terhe alatt.

Jó szerencse, hogy az új-zélandi kormány és a Union Steamship Company fölajánlotta a Nimrod vontatásának költségeit. Ily módon a szénrakomány terhének jelentékeny részét áthárítottuk a Koonya gőzösre, amelyet E. P. Evans kapitány parancsnokságával rendelkezésünkre bocsátottak. Mindezeknek és még sok más ügyes-bajos dolognak az intézésében nagy segítségemre volt új-zélandi tartózkodásunk alatt J. J. Kinsey, akinek jó tanácsaira és támogatására hálával emlékezem.

HATODIK FEJEZET.Lytteltontól a déli sarkkörig.

Fölvirradt végre az új év első hajnala – utolsó napunk a civilizációban. Tudtuk jól, hogy még az est leszállta előtt minden kötelék megszakad köztünk és az emberlakta világ

között, mégis mohón vártuk ezt a napot. Az Ismeretlennek a varázsa hívott, és mi ment tünk – bármit hozzon a jövő.

A kíváncsiak egész serege tolongott naphosszat zsúfolt hajónkon. Sokan egész nyíltan bevallották, hogy nem vágnának neki ezzel a parányi, túlterhelt hajóval a déli tengerek viharainak. Rá se hederítettünk a sötéten látók aggodalmas jóslásaira.

Délután négy órára tűztük ki az indulást. Az utolsó percben, pontosabban délután két órakor – felugrott egyik lelkes látogatónk, George Buckley, odajött hozzám: vigyem magammal. Legalább a déli sarkkörig. Hirtelenjében ennél többre igazán bajos lett volna vállalkoznia. Örömmel egyeztem bele. Ismertük lelkesedését, tudtuk, hogy legény a talpán. Buckley fogta magát, elvágtatott Christchurchbe, a klubjába, ügyvédi meghatalmazást adott egy barátjának, egy fogkefét s valami alsóruhafélét sebbel-lobbal belehajigált a táskájába, s néhány perccel indulás előtt jelentkezett a hajón, úgy, ahogy volt, egy szál nyári ruhában. Bizonyos, hogy ami az előkészületeket illeti, rekordot teremtett a sarkutazások történetében.

Buckley tehát már csak itt volna – de hol van David professzor? A délután még láttam a rakodóparton: valami irdatlan csövet cipelt a vállán – a másik végét egy vasúti hordár vitte – azóta nyoma veszett. Bizonyosan körülnéz még egy kicsit. Végre föltűnik a keskeny hajófolyosó végében, mind a két keze tele kényes üvegműszerekkel.

Négy óra előtt egy perccel elhangzik a vezényszó, a köteleket eloldják és a Nimrod megmozdul. Hatalmas üdvkiáltás harsan fel a parton ezer meg ezer torokból és kísér bennünket, amint lassan távolodunk a kikötő kijárata felé. Megismétlődik ez a lelkes búcsúüdvözlet, amint elhaladunk a világítótorony alatt. Ágyúk dörögnek, szirénák búgnak, gőzösök éles hangja hasítja a levegőt – így búcsuztatja a sok békésen himbáló gőzös a nyílt tengerek felé igyekvő pici feketetestű hajótestvérét.

Megállunk, hogy fölvegyük a Koonya vontató sodronykötelét, jelt adunk az indulásra, s csakhamar kinn úszunk a nagy óceánon. Előttünk az izmos Koonya, mellettünk kétoldalt a Union Company személyszállító hajói és csónakjai, a szerencsét kívánók ezreivel. A Nimrod volt az első kutatóhajó, amelyet úgy vonszoltak jómagatehetetlenül a jégtől zajló tengerekre, akárcsak valami berzenkedő gyereket, akinek nem akaródzik elmenni az iskolába.

Szerencsére nem tudtuk még ekkor, hogy két héten keresztül nem vethetjük le ruháinkat, és hogy bőrig átnedvesedve kell majd úgyszólván szakadatlanul résen lennünk és virrasztanunk, gondterhesen, amíg csak meg nem érkezünk a téli szállás közelébe.

Ha már az első percben átcsaptak rajtunk a hullámok, ahogy vontatókötélre kerültünk, mi lesz még velünk a "bömbölő negyvenesek" és "üvöltő ötvenesek" viharaiban? A rossz idő nem sokáig váratott magára.

A Nimrod táncot járt a hullámokon, mindennek lába kelt a fedélzeten. Csudák csudája, hogy lovaink túlélték ezeket a napokat. A Koonya csakhamar jelt adott, eresszük hosszabbra a kötelet. Hajónk csavarosan fúrta bele magát az óceánba, nagyokat bókolt, ide-oda dobálta láncait. Mennyire visszakívántam most a hatalmas, büszke Discovery-t ebben a nyomorúságunkban! Először nehezedett rám nyomasztó szegénységünk.

A fedélzetet végig-végigmosták a hullámok; tartókötelet feszítettünk ki – fogódzkodás nélkül egy lépest nem tehettünk volna. A láncra fűzött hajó szinte fuldokolni látszott. A harmadik reggel szárnyára bocsátottuk postagalambunkat, hogy hírt vigyen rólunk. A galamb egyet-kettőt keringett a levegőben, aztán nyílegyenesen vágott neki a hazavivő útnak – Új-Zélandra. Albatroszok kóvályogtak hajónk körül.

Lestük egy ideig, nem támadják-e meg hírnökünket. A galamb nem került haza.

A Nimrod, mintha csak durcáskodnék, amiért pórázra került, – elsőízben negyven éves tisztes múlt után, – tombolt mérgében. Tengerjáró képességét erős próbára tette a vihar – de végül is felülkerekedett. Néhányunk, akiket nem vert le a lábáról a tengeribetegség, gyönyörködve szemléltük az őrjöngő vihart. Megfigyeltem Buckley-t, amint mámorosan állt ott az elemek zengésében. David professzort is elbűvölte a látvány nagyszerűsége, s a hullámrohamok pillanatnyi szüneteiben gyakran fordult a szó kedvelt költőinkre. Browning verseit idéztük a zajgó vizek hátán.

Ötödikén reggel szóltam a kapitánynak, adjon jelt a Koonyának, és kérje meg, öntsön olajat a vízre. Reméltem, ez segít rajtunk. Talán használt is valamelyest, de nem menthetett meg tőle, hogy a hullámok egész hegyei ne zúduljanak a fedélzetre. A Nimrod ötven foknál meredekebben himbált jobbra-balra – hogy mennyivel haladta meg az ötven fokot, nem tudom, mert a jelzőkészülék csak ennyi fokra volt beosztva, es a mutató túllendült ezen. Állítsunk föl egy ceruzát az asztalra, hajlítsuk el oldalt ötven fokra egyik irányban, majd át a másik oldalra ugyanennyire, és megértjük, mekkora íveket írhattak le a Nimrod árbocai.

Ebben az őrült ide-oda ingásban esett meg, hogy egyik lovunk alól kicsúszott a talaj, fölhemperedett és nem tudott többé talpra állani. Minden igyekezetünk, hogy talprasegítsük, hiábavaló volt. Másnap, – 6-án délelőtt – újabb eredménytelen kísérletek után, mély sajnálkozással kiadtam a rendeletet, hogy egy revolvergolyóval váltsák meg szenvedéseitől. A déli órákban az ötvenegyedik szélességi fokon jártunk ezen a napon.

A szüntelen rossz időjárást némelyek annak tulajdonították, hogy utunk másodnapján foglyul ejtettünk egy albatrosz madarat. Általános a hiedelem a tengerésznép között, hogy ennek a madárnak a megölése bajt zúdít a hajóra. Nekünk azonban tudományos gyűjteményünk céljára kellett a madár, nem puszta jókedvünkből öltük meg, így hát mégis csak valami más okának kell lenni, miért szakadt ránk ez az ítéletidő.

A vihar egyre növekedett. Hatodikán éjfélkor a szélrohamok már orkánszerű dühvel táncoltatták dióhéjnyi hajónkat a nyargaló hullámokon. A rákövetkező reggel sem hozott enyhületet. A megvadult, fékevesztett tenger özönvíz módjára söpört végig újból

meg újból a fedélzeten, menthetetlenül magával sodorva, ha valami tárgyat netán ott talált védtelenül. Egyszer egy zsák burgonyát mosott az áradat a fedélzetre, Isten tudja honnan. Térden felül érő vízben úszkáltak a szétgurult krumplik; a hajó farán állva hallottam, amint egyik emberünk, a krumplit szedegetve dúdolgatta nagy vidáman: "Gyertek, gyertek, szedjünk diót szép május havában."

Másnap este – 8-án – az orkán oly félelmetesen hajigálta hajónkat, hogy jelt adtunk a Koonyának, forduljon szél ellen, és állítsa meg a gépet. A Nimrod jobb oldalára ráfeküdt a tenger, és egy rettentő hullám a korlát egy darabját leszakította. Tekintélyes egyéb kárt is okozott, de szerencsére a sérülés nem volt főbenjáró. A tengervíz, nem is egyszer, alaposan fölmosta a konyhát, a tüzet eloltotta, de személyzetünk olyan derekasan megállotta helyét, hogy egyetlenegyszer sem maradtunk meleg étel nélkül. Ez bizony valóban dicséretes teljesítmény volt, ha meggondoljuk, hogy az egész hajókonyha alig másfélszer másfél méteres szűkecske helyiség volt, és harminckilenc farkasétvágyú embert kellett táplálni belőle.

A hajószobában kihalásztam egy fadobozt, amelyikben tűz oltására való szabadalmazott anyagot találtam.

Január 11-én délben 57° 38' déli szélességen jártunk (a nyugati hosszúság 178. és 179. foka között). A már-már megszelídült tenger újra háborogni kezdett. Aggodalmunk, hogy bajos dolog lesz kitisztítanunk az istállót, fölösleges volt: a herkulesi hullámok kéretlenül elvégezték ezt a feladatot.

13-án a legszebb napra virradtunk egész utunkban, amióta Lytteltont elhagytuk. Barátságosan sütött a nap; egyesek nekibátorodtak a fürdésnek, bár a hőmerő a fagypont felé járt.

Kezdtük figyelni, mikor mutatkoznak az első jéghegyek és a zajgó jég. A jégzaj szabta meg a határát, meddig maradunk a Koonya vontatókötelén Közeledett az óra, amikor búcsút veszünk készséges és kedves útitársunktól, Buckley-től, akit mindnyájan őszintén megszerettünk. Nagy segítségünkre volt kivált a lovak gondozásában.

1. kép. Délsarki jéghegy.

Másnap reggel pillantottuk meg az első jéghegyet. Mint a délsarki jéghegyek általában, asztalsimaságú volt a teteje; oldalfala hófehér fényben sziporkázott. Délután újabb két jéghegy maradt el mellettünk, a szétzüllő törmelékjég uszályával. Az ólomszínű tenger zöldesszürkévé enyhült. Az albatroszok el-elmaradoztak. A levegő és a víz hőmérséke a fagypontra hűlt. Minden jel a jégzaj közelségére vallott. Csakugyan a reggeli párán keresztül (15-én) felködlött délen az összefüggő jég.

Elérkezett az óra, amikor a Koonya leoldja láncunkat, 2800 kilométeres vontatás után. Bizonyára rekord ez a távolság egy nem ilyen célra épült gőzössel. Amikorra rákerült a sor, hogy a Koonya végleg fölszabadítson, egy másik rekordot is följegyezhetett a hajózás története: a Koonya volt az első acélhajó, amely áthaladt a déli sarkkörön (66 1/2

fok).

Délelőtt tíz óra tájban elhatároztam, hogy átküldöm England kapitányt a Koonyára, Buckleyvel és a postával. Leveleinkre az új-zéalandi kormány különleges antarktikus bélyegeit ragasztottuk, reájuk ütve saját külön bélyegzőnket:

BRIT. ANTARCTIC EXPD.

A tenger élénkülőben volt; nem volt veszteni való időnk: sietnünk kellett az átcsónakázással. Leeresztettük a csónakot, és Buckley, – kezében vasárnap délutáni kiránduló kézitáskája – beleugrott. Egy óra felé Evans kapitány, a Koonya parancsnoka jelezte, hogy elvágja a vontatókötelet, mert a hullámzó vízen veszedelmes a közelség a két hajó között.

Láttuk, amint emelkedik és lehull a fejsze, majd megint emelkedik és újra lehull. A kötél el volt metszve. A Koonya befejezte feladatát. Szabadok voltunk. Társhajónk körüljárt a Nimrod körül. A két hajó legénysége hurrákiáltásokban tört ki. A vontatóhajó orrát északnak fordítva – hazafelé – eltűnt szemünk elől a havas ködpárában. Egész délután hosszat nem tettünk mást, mint hogy szakadatlanul húztuk be a kábelt. Este hétkor folytathattuk utunkat: hajónk orrát délnek fordítottuk, készen rá, hogy keresztültörjük magunkat a Ross-tenger bejáratát elálló jégzaj lebegő övén.

HETEDIK FEJEZETKísérlet az Edward király földjének elérésére. – Téli szállást keresünk.

A január 16-ára virradó hajnalon a jéghegyek megsokasodtak körülöttünk, de a jég, melyen át kellett törtetnünk, a legkevésbé sem emlékeztetett arra, amit jégzajnak (pack-ice) nevezhetnénk Az asztalsimaságú jéghegyek magassága úgy 25 és 45 méter körül váltakozott. A reggeli órákban csupa ilyen fehérlő jégpalotákkal szegélyezett vízi utcában és sikátorban nyomultunk előre, akárcsak valami havas Velence csodás csatornáin hajókáznánk ragyogó időben. Bűvös varázsú kép. Ameddig a szem ellát, sziporkázó falú jéghegyek végtelenbe vesző sorai, kelet, dél és nyugat felé, megragadó ellentétben a közöttük húzódó vízi sikátorok kékesfekete csíkjaival. És erre az igézetes tájra baljóslatú néma csöndesség terül. Az életnek semmi jele köröskörül, csak itt-ott csillan meg egy pillanatra egy-egy apró havasi sirály, amely láthaatlanul húzott el a

fénylő jéghegyek fölött. Ha még oly gyönyörűséges volt is a látvány, nem minden aggodalom nélkül gondoltam rá, mily kockázatos lenne, ha az úszó hegyeknek ebben az útvesztőjében lepne meg valami hirtelen kerekedő viharocska. Máris rosszat sejtető sötét felhő közeledik vészes gyorsasággal a hátunk mögül. Megkönnyebülve látom, amint a délutáni órákban nyílt víz csillan meg előttünk. Még egy-két kanyarodó és ide-oda cikázás után beevezünk a Ross-tenger jégmentes öblébe. Ez volt az első eset, hogy jégzaj nélkül jutott el idáig hajó akadálytalanul. Bizonyára annak köszönhető ez, hogy keletebbi útirányt választottunk.

Hogy honnan jöttek ezek a jéghegyek, a találgatásnak tág tere nyílik. De biztos, hogy nem régen válhattak le a parti jégperemről vagy jégfalról. Oldalaikat még nem kezdte ki a romboló idő. Délben túl jártunk a déli szélesség 68. fokán (a nyugati hosszúság 179. és 180. foka között.)

Mielőtt elértük volna a jéghegyek utcáit, a táblás jégen két fókát pillantottunk meg – valószínűleg "rákevő" (crab-eater) volt az egyik és Weddel-fóka a másik – és Adélie-pingvinek is mutatkoztak. Ezeknek a madaraknak furcsa járása és olthatatlan kíváncsisága roppantul mulattatott; művésztársunkat, Marstont, akinek rendkívül fejlett az érzéke a nevetséges iránt, valósággal elragadta a pingvinek leplezetlen álmélkodása és mélységes megilletődése a hajó láttára.

Jó szerencse volt, hogy még aznap délután túljutottunk a jéghegyeken, mert kevéssel utóbb csakugyan föltámadt a szél, és sűrű havazás fogta el a szabad kilátást.

Benn voltunk tehát a Ross-tengerben, és nyilván végleg elkerültük a zajló jeget. 17-én délben közel jártunk a déli szélesség 71. fokához, a 179. keleti hosszúságon. Nyugatabbi irányba csaptunk, hogy a Nagy Jégfalat az öböltől (Barrier Inlet) keletre érjük el, és egyúttal kikerüljük a sűrű jégzajt, amelybe a korábbi expedíciók belekeveredtek a nyugati hossúság 160. fokától keletre. Kemény és száraz havat kaptunk – akárcsak a szágó – amolyan igazi délsarki havat. Antarktikus viharmadarak keringtek hajónk körül. Világosan hallottuk szárnyuk suhogását.

Valósággal kéjelegtünk az Antarktisz mondhatatlan üdeségében, amely át- meg áthatja legbensőbb lényünket. Alighanem ez a páratlan jóérzés a titka annak a leküzdhetetlen visszavágyódásnakm mely hatalmába ejti mindazokat, akik valaha megfordultak a sarki tájakon.

23-án reggel nehány hatalmas jéghegy tűnt szemünkbe, nyilvánvalóan a Nagy Jégfal leszakadt darabjai. Jól kinyitottuk szemünket, hátha megpillantjuk csakhamar magát a Barriert. A hőmérő jócskán leszállt a fagypont alá (6–7 fokra), de a szél oly száraz volt, hogy alig éreztük a hideget.

Délelőtt fél tíz felé alacsony egyenes vonal jelent meg hajónk előtt. A Nagy Jégfal. Félórára rá eltűnt megint, de egy órával később újra fölbukkant a kelet-nyugati irányú jégsánc. Rohamosan közeledtünk. Ahogy vártam is, csakugyan azon a ponton ütköztünk bele a Jégfalba, ahol a Nyugati öbölnek (Western Bight) nevezett kerek

öblözet bemélyed a Jégfal egyenes vonalából. A déli órákban ott meredt föl közvetlen szemünk előtt a Jégfal, az öblözet keleti végződésénél. A csodálkozás fölkiáltása fakadt föl az ajkakról a hatalmas magasságra föltoluló sáncfal láttára. Megragadó látvány annak, aki először áll szemtől szembe ezzel a természeti jelenséggel.

Aránylag kis távolságból is tökéletesen sima falnak tetszik. Alatta hajókázva el kiugró fokok ötlenek szemünkbe, mint megannyi öböl szarvai. A Jégfal mentén hajózva semmi nyoma a Discovery-expedíció idején tapasztalt nyugati áramlásnak.

Éjféltájban hirtelen véget ér a Jégfal magasba meredő vonala; széles, sekély öböl kanyarodik belőle, alighanem az az öblözet, ahol Borchgrevink szállott partra 1900-ban. De azóta nagymértékben megváltozott az öböl alakja. Egy kilométerrel odább szilárd jégbe ütközünk. Éjfél elmúlt, de arcunkba tűz a délsarki nap.

Kelet felé mintegy kilencven méter magasságú havas lejtő szegi be a láthatárt. Minden jel arra vall, hogy jéglepte szárazfölddel van dolgunk. De nem vesztegelhetünk ezen a helyen, hogy bizonyosságot szerezzünk. A tőlünk északra elterülő jégzaj benyomulóban van az öbölbe, s ha nem akarunk a jég fogságába kerülni, késedelem nélkül folytatnunk kell utunkat. Hajónk körül óriási bálnák ütögetik föl hátuszonyukat. Ezekről a rengeteg állatokról a bálnák öblének (The Bay of Whales) nevezzük el ezt az ő tekintélyes játszóterüket.

Minthogy kelet felé nem tudjuk egyenesen előre dolgozni magunkat, egy nyitott csatornán északnak csapunk, majd éjjel megint elérjük a Jégsáncot. Itt már sikerül tovább hatolni kelet felé a jégfal aljában, folytonosan figyelve, mikor bukkan föl a Ballon-öböl, amelynek a partjáról léghajóval fölszálltunk a Discovery-expedíció idejében. A motoros kocsit kiszabadítjuk kötelékeiből, és fölszereljük az emelődarut, hogy nyomban partra tegyük, ha elérjük a jéglábazatot, amely mellett a Díscovery horgonyozott hat esztendeje.

Régóta elhatároztam, hogy ebben az öbölben ütjük föl téli szállásunkat. Itt kezdődik ugyanis voltaképpen az Edward király földje, s az igazi szárazföld innen szánon egy nap alatt elérhető. Másik nagy előnye, hogy több mint másfélszáz kilométerrel közelebb van ez a hely a déli sarkhoz, mint bármely más, hajóval elérhető pont. Ehhez járul az a fontos körülmény, hogy a jégfalnak ezt a helyét a hajó könnyen elérheti, amikor majd visszatér, míg maga az Edward király földje kedvezőtlen időjárás esetén esetleg merőben megközelíthetetlen lenne.

De bizony a legjobban elgondolt tervek is gyakran megvalósíthatatlanok a sarkvidéken. Alig telik bele nehány óra, látjuk már, hogy tervünkből semmi sem lesz, abból az egyszerű okból, hogy az öböl eltűnt. Éjfél után egy órakor haladtunk volt el a Borchgrevink-öböl előtt. Este nyolckor már jócskán el kellett, hogy hagyjuk a helyet, ahol a Discovery-expedícióból ismert Ballon-öbölnek kell lennie. A jégfal kilométerekre terjedő hosszúságban letöredezett azóta, s a keresett öböl egybeolvadt a Borchgrevink-öböllel, és azzal együtt alkotta a Bálnák-öblét, avagy a Cethal-öblöt (Bay of Whales), ahogan elneveztük.* Ha mégoly nagy volt is csalódásunk, volt okunk

hálásnak lenni, hogy a jégfal hamarabb szakadt le, és nem akkor, ami kor már tanyát ütöttünk rajta. A gondolat, hogy mi történhetett volna, egyszer s mindenkorra elvette a kedvemet, hogy a jégfalon teleljünk. Bárhol kötünk is ki, csak szilárd földön ütjük föl téli tanvánkat.

Két lehetőség állt előttünk, és én elhatároztam, hogy a másodikat kÖvetem: előrenyomulni az Edward király földje felé. A hajó orrát keletnek fordítottuk. Néhány száz lépésre távolodtunk a Jégfaltól, mert itt a fal túlhajlott a függőlegesen, és a jégtömegek leomlása végzetes lehetett volna. Igen ám, de csakhamar kiderült, hogy a barrier felé áramló jégzaj (pack-ice) visszaűz a fal tövébe és ott összemorzsolódással fenyegeti hajónkat. Nem folytathattuk utunkat. Egyelőre nem maradt más megoldás, mint a visszatérés. Így is kemény küzdelmet kellett folytatnunk a már szorongató jégtáblákkal. Megkönnyebbülve lélegeztem föl, amikor ezen a veszélyeztetett szakaszon túlkerültünk és kihajókáztunk az öbölből.

Tovább hajóztunk már most nyugat felé. Estére pedig északnak irányítottuk a Nimrodot, ahol jókora nyílt víztükör csillogott. Várakozásunkban megcsalódtunk, mert a nyílt víz ismét jégzajnak adott helyet. Ide-oda cikázva próbálkoztunk meg az előnyomulással kelet felé.

Január 25-én óráról-órára halványodott a remény, hogy elérhessük az Edward-földet. Szenünk szűken, a hajó megviselt állapotban. Nem lehettünk elkészülve ennyi akadályra és csalódásra. Aggodalmas kezdett lenni a helyzet, hogy napokig, esetleg hetekig nem tudunk kikeveredni a jégzaj útvesztőjéből, este nyolckor sajnálkozva kiadtam tehát a rendeletet a visszafordulásra. Bármennyire csábító volt is a gondolat, hogy a még ki nem kutatott ismeretlen Edward-földjén partra tegyük lábunkat, beletörődtünk a kényszerűségbe, hogy a McMurdo szoros felé irányítsuk hajónkat, és ott vonuljunk téli szállásra. A kiszámíthatatlan jégzaj ereje hatalmasabb az emberi elhatározásnál: meghajoltunk előtte és megmásítottuk tervünket.

* Ebben az öbölben szállt partra Amundsen 1911-ben. Ő nem riadt vissza tőle, hogy a jégperem tetején rendezze be téli szállását, a Framheimet. Onnan indult el 1911. októberben híres sarki szánútjára, amelyen Scott kapitányt megelőzte. Érdekesen magyarázza meg Amundsen, miért választotta ezt a helyet kiinduló pontjául. (Lásd: Amundsen: A déli sarkon A Hat Világrész könyvsorozatában.)

Megkezdtük tehát visszatérő utunkat nyugat felé. Hosszas küzdelem után nyíltabb vízre ért velünk a hajó, és január 29-én megérkeztünk a McMurdo átjáróba. Harminc kilométer széles szilárd jégmező választott el a Hut Pointtól ("Kunyhófok"), a Discovery-expedíció téli tanyájától. Elhatároztam, hogy a jég lábánál várunk néhány napot, amíg a természet talán segítségünkre jő, és fölszakadozik a jég köztünk és célunk között.

Mindekkoráig megkímélt a sors minden balesettől. Január utolsó napján, miközben a hajó üregéből készleteket hordtunk fel a fedélzetre, a fölvonó csigának a horga kisiklott, nagy ívben ellendült és Mackintoshnak a szeméhez vágódott. Marshall nyomban

megvizsgálta, elaltatta a sebesültet, és összeroncsolt jobb szemgolyóját eltávolította. Segítségére volt a kényes műtétben a másik két orvos: Michell és Mackay. Mackintosh talán elvesztett szeménél is jobban fájlalta, hogy a baleset után most már nem maradhat velünk a sarkvidéken. Kérte, hogy maradhasson, de Marshall megmagyarázta neki, hogy másik szeme világát is kockáztatná vele. Erre belenyugodott, hogy a Nimroddal haza kell térnie.

Amíg a jég szélén veszteeltünk, elküldtem egy kis csoportot – Adamset, Joyce-ot és Wildot.– a Hut Pointra, hogy hozzanak hírt róla, milyen állapotban van a kunyhó, amelyet a Discovery-expedícíó hagyott hátra 1904-ben. Társaink jelentették, hogy a kunyhó tökéletesen ép, és a hó sem hatolt bele. A kunyhó körül eleségmaradványokat találtak a Discovery-expedíció idejebol. Volt közöttük egy nyitott bádogdobozra való tea. Tökéletesen élvezhető maradt. Köteteket beszél ez a tapasztalás a sarkvidéki éghajlat szárazságáról.

Február 3-án elhatároztam, hogy nem várok tovább, hanem a Ross-sziget keleti partján keresek alkalmas telelőállomást. A Barne-fok felé hajózva, a part mentén észak felé, hosszan elnyúló alacsony hólejtőt pillantottam meg, amely a Royds-fok csupasz szirtjében folytatódik. Ez a hely megfelelőnek mutatkozott téli táborozásra.

Csónakba szálltam, Adamsszel és Wilddal. A kis öböl a Flagstaff-földcsúcstól (ahogyan a Royds-fok tenger felőli déli nyúlványát később elneveztük) egészen a Barne-fokig szilárdra volt fagyva. A jég széle ki volt csorbulva egy helyütt a földcsúcs alatt; oda, mint valami védett dokkba, beeveztünk. Adélie-pingvinek százai rekedt, izgatott kiáltozással fogadtak, amint Adamsszel partra léptünk.

Hamarosan meggyőződtünk, hogy a Royds-fok kitűnő hely lesz készleteink partraszállítására. Mélységmérések után a hajó felé eveztünk, amely óvatosan közeledett felénk. Javában evezünk, amikor egyszerre egy jókora test bukik föl a vízből, nekiugrik egyik emberünknek, aki erre egyetlen zuhanással végigterül a csónak fenekén. Adélie-pingvin volt a váratlan támadó; nyilván azt hitte, sziklára szökik. Nehéz lett volna megmondani, melyikük csodálkozott el jobban a másikán: a madár-e, avagy az ember.

Február 3-án este tízkor a Nimrod kikötött az öböl jegéhez. David tanár, England kapitány és Dunlop társaságában partra szálltam, hogy kikeressük a helyet a kunyhó építésére. Valamivel följebb egy völgyben találtunk is remek térséget téli tanyánk számára. Nemcsak a kunyhó építésére jutott itten elegendő sík tér; a készletek és a lovak óljai is jól megfértek. A völgy fölött emelkedő hegy pompás védelmet nyújtott az uralkodó délkeleti szél ellen. Az öböl jegén heverő fókák meg elegendő friss pecsenyét ígértek. Még víz is kínálkozott egy közeli tavacskában. Elhatároztam, hogy azonnal hozzáfogunk fölszerelésünk partraszállításához.

NYOLCADIK FEJEZET. Partraszállás.

Vesződséges ügyes-bajos tennivalók fáradalmas hetei vártak reánk. De azért nem volt senki közöttünk, aki teljes odaadással és derült készséggel ne végezte volna a ráeső feladatot a legnehezebb viszonyok között.

Legelsőbb is a motoros kocsit tettük partra. Aztán következtek a kutyák. A lovak partra szállítása okozta a legtöbb fejtörést. Sietni kellett velük, míg föl nem fakad a jég. Megviselt, ideges állapotuk nem engedte volna meg, hogy csónakon szállítsuk partra őket. Végül is összeróttunk egy kalitkaszerű szerkezetet, abba beleállítottuk és egyenként partra fordítottuk őket az emelő daruval. Egyiküket különben – Zulut

– már napokkal előbb le kellett lőnünk, olyan erős horzsolódásokat és sérüléseket szenvedett a viharos úton. Ez volt a második áldozat.

6-án hajnalra valamennyi lovunk – most már csak nyolc – biztonságban volt a parton. Azonnal elkezdték kapálni a havat, ahogy megszokták távol mandzsuországi hazájukban. Persze tagjaik elzsibbadtak a heteken át tartó folytonos ide-oda dobáltatástól, szűk óljaikban a hánykolódó tengeren. Azonnal kipányváztuk őket egy hómentes folton, a kunyhó helyétől mintegy hatvan lépésre. Azt tartottuk, ez kitűnő hely, egy kis völgy bejáratánál. Bezzeg megkeserültük választásunkat!

A szárazföldhöz szilárdult jég és az árapállyal együttmozgó tengerjég között mindig keletkezik repedés, néha nem is egy. Ezek a repedések igazítanak útba, hogy hol kezdődik a megbízható, szilárd parti jég. A jégperemnek azt a részét, amelyen már nem mutatkozik több repedés, állandónak szoktuk tartani. Megerősítette ezt a hiedelmet a repedésben való mélységmérés, amely azt mutatta, hogy a repedésen túl a jégperem már szilárd földön nyugszik. Ezért is szemeltük ki a csupasz sziklák alatti helyet.

6-án reggel szánokkal fogtunk hozzá a fölszerelés és a készletek partraszállításához. Legelsőbb is élelmiszereket és a kunyhó egyes részeit hordtuk ki a partra.

2. kép. Útrakelés a jégperem széléről

A hatodikára "virradó" éjjelen megkezdtük a kunyhó alapjának az ásását és belesüllyesztettük a földbe a kunyhó oszlopait.

A lovak kiszállítása után gondozóiknak is partra kellett szállniok. Az első kiszálló csoportban voltak: Adams, Marston, Brocklehurst, Mackay és Murray. Két sátrat ütöttek az épülő kunyhó közelében; hálózsákot, főzőszerszámot és sok más egyebet – élelmiszert, lóeleséget, petróleumot stb. – vittek magukkal arra az esetre, ha netalán a hajót a rossz időjárás kiűzné a nyílt tengerre.

A szánrakományok fölvontatása a szárazföldre olyan fáradságos volt, hogy egyelőre a készleteket a hólejtőn hagytuk, túl az árapály okozta repedésen – ahonnan akármikor tovább szállíthatók.

Hatodikán délután a hirtelen kerekedő szél miatt a hajót kijjebb kellett vezényelnünk az átjáró szilárd jege mellé és ott kötni ki vele. Amikor két nap múltával megint kimentem a partra, örömmel láttam, hogy a partraszállt csoport azóta mindent biztos helyre továbbított. Mialatt mi a partrahordás nehéz munkájával vesződtünk, a már kinn lakó társaink serényen folytatták – éjjel-nappal, ha szabad ezt a kifejezést használnunk, amikor semmi különbség nem volt az éjjelek és nappalok között – a kunyhó építését. Leendő lakásunk egyre jobban kiterjeszkedett és csinosodott.

Mi többiek nehézkesebben haladtunk munkánkkal. A jég fölszakadása kényszerített, hogy helyet változtassunk. Több mint háromszáz lépés választotta el most a hajót attól a helytől, ahol partra tehettük szállítmányainkat. Négy lovunkat is befogtuk a munkára. Ilyen módon tekintélyes mennyiségű készletet kihordtunk már, amikor újabb súlyos akádály merült föl. Levált a parti jégperem. Február 10-ének esti óráit arra fordítottuk, hogy a már kihordott dolgokat biztonságosabb helyre továbbítsuk.

A még hátralevő készleteink és szenünk részére új elraktározó helyről kellett gondoskodnunk. Ezt a helyet Back Door Bay-nek neveztük el, ami annyit jelent, hogy "a hátsó ajtó öble". Ez a hely még távolabb volt a hajótól, de nem volt más választásunk. Kátrányos ponyvát terítettünk le, hogy a föld a szénnel össze ne keveredjék, s azután hozzáfogtunk a szén kihordásához.

Ekkortájban több gyanús repedés keletkezett az öböl jegén. A repedések hol szétnyíltak, hol összezárultak, jó egy arasznyi játékkal az egyes jégtáblák között. A motoros kocsik tokjából hidakat rögtönöztünk, hogy a lovak nyugodtan járhassanak rajtuk. Így haladt a kirakodás munkája, amikor váratlan riasztó eset adta elő magát. Az öböl jegének nagyobb része hirtelen, minden előző legkisebb jel nélkül táblákra hullott széjjel és az egész jégtömeg elkezdett lassan kifelé sodródni a nyílt tenger felé. A jégen levő lovak válságos helyzetbe kerültek. Vezetőik sietve eloldották azt, amelyik a szán vezérköteléhez volt kötözve, és szerencsésen átmentették az első repedésen. Armytage ugyanígy átvezérelte a maga lovát a hajóhoz legközelebb eső jgtábláról a következőre.

Ebben a pillanatban bukkant föl a sarkon Mackay, a Back Door Bay-ből jövet, üres szánjával, amely elé egy harmadik ló volt fogva. A hajóra igyekezett vissza új

rakományért. Kiáltoztunk rá, ne tegyen egy lépést se, de nem értette meg a helyzetet, az első pillanatban, folytatta útját s rálépett a már rohamosan leválóban levő tengerjégre.

Amikor ráeszmélt, mi történik, ott hagyta a szánt, lovastul együtt, és a jégtáblákon átugrálva sikerült elérnie azt a mozgó jégtáblát, amelyen a két másik ló hajókázott javában kifelé a tengerre. Ez a jégtábla egyre közelebb sodródott egy másik nagyobb táblához, amelyről – úgy mutatkozott – az állatokat már könnyűszerrel biztos helyre menekítheti. A Chinaman lóval próbálkozott meg elsőbb. A két jégtábla azon a helyen arasznyinál közelebb volt egymáshoz, de a ló megijedt, addig ágaskodott és hátrált a jégtáblán, míg a távolság több lépésnyire növekedett. Végül is belepottyant a jéghideg vízbe.

A helyzet úgy festett, hogy szegény Chinaman-nek vége. De Mackay nem eresztette el a kötőféket; Davis, Michell és Mawson egyszeriben ott termettek segítségül. Sok nehézséggel sikerült egy hevedert alája csúsztatni és megemelinteni szegény állatot annyira, hogy kikapaszkodhassék a jég szélére.

Néhány pillanattal később a két jégtábla összezárult. Szinte gondviselésszerű, hogy nem addig történt ez, amíg a vízben volt a ló. Chinaman bizonyosan halálra roncsolódik, ha ott éri a jégtorlódás. Egy fél üveg pálinkát kapott a remegő pára azonnali orvosságul. A hajót vettük ezután segítségül, hogy a szilárd jég felé tereljük vele a lebegő jégtáblát. Abban a szempillantásban, hogy a jégtábla nekiütközött a biztos parti jégnek, a lovakat kihajtották, és meg sem állhattak velük, míg szilárd földet nem éreztek lábuk alatt. Utánuk a különböző jégtáblákon rekedt embereink ugráltak ki és mentették partra szerencsésen, széjjel levő készleteinket.

Az eseten okulva nem engedtük többé a jégre lovainkat.

A hajót most a Back Door Bay szilárd jégpereméhez horgonyoztuk le. Negyed óra sem telt bele, új repedések keletkeztek, és a hajó újra szabadon lebegett a vízen. A kirakodás ily módon lehetetlenné válván, a Nimrod odább állott.

Valójában az egész telelő csoport parton volt már ekkor.

A jég leválása továbbra is sok aggodalmat okozott. Hajszál híja, hogy tudományos fölszereléseinket tartalmazó ládáink és nagy mennyiségű takarmány oda nem veszett. Ha a ládákat elveszítjük, tudományos megfigyeléseink java részére nem nyílt volna mód; a takarmány elvesztése meg egyet jelentett volna a lovak elvesztésével.

Megnehezítette munkánkat a február 13-i erős hullámverés. Ezen a napon semmit sem végezhettünk. Ezt a hullámverést örömmel üdvözöltük volna két héttel előbb. Akkor megmozdította volna a szilárdra fagyott jeget, amely a Hut Pointtól elválasztott. Nem tudtam el nem mélázni a gondolaton, hogy most bizonyára szabad az út odáig. Most már azonban késő. Sok értékes idő pergett le azóta, és a még drágább szénből is sokat fölemésztett a hajó gépe, amely azóta örökösen munkában volt.

KILENCEDIK FEJEZET. A Nimrod magunkra hagy.

A hullámverés másnap is folytatódott. Nem tehettem mást, jelzés útján felszólítottam England kapitányt, menjen a hajóval a Gleccsernyelvhez (Glacier Tongue) és tegyen partra ott készleteket. A Gleccsernyelv, ez a szembetűnő jégalakulat, amely az Erebus délnyugati lejtőiről nyúlt be mélyen a tengerbe, a Hut Point és a Royds-fok között van. Ez a hely útba esik, ha majd a Royds-fokról elindulunk délnek vivő utunkra. Tiszta nyereség a vontatásban.

England kapitány természetesen már számlálta a napokat, mikor fordulhat hajójával hazafelé. Nyugtalanította a szénkészlet rohamos megcsappanása.

Hiába, mégsem engedhetjük útjára amíg partra nem raktuk a telelő csoportnak szánt szénmennyiséget.

Tapasztalásunk szerint nem volt szabad tovább késleltetnünk a hajót február végénél, ha nem akartuk kockáztatni biztos kijutását a Ross-tengerből.

17-én és 18-án tekintélyes mennyiségű szenet, készleteket és felszerelést tett partra a hajó, de már az utóbbi nap délutánján rettentő hóvihar kerekedett és a Nimrod kénytelen volt kifutni a tengerre. Történetesen éppen a hajón ért a vihar.

A szélrohamok sebessége bizonyosan elérte a százhatvan kilométer óránkénti sebességet. A fedélzetet, árbocozatot és a kötélzetet elborító hullámok egyszeriben kemény jéggé fagytak és a hajó oldalait is vastagon belepte a tengervízből fagyott jég.

A fedélzeten heverő ládákat és a szánokat vastagon beburkolta a jég. Az őrtisztnek, amikor sípjelet adott, a kemény hidegben hozzátapadt az ajka a fémsíphoz.

Négy nap, négy éjszaka dühöngött a vihar. A hajó vízkibocsátó csövei befagytak, a víz nem tudott utat találni, szétömlött a fedélzeten, amelyen máris másfél araszos volt a jégtakaró. Ha ez tovább is így tart, a hajó a súlyos megterheltetéstől is mozdulatlanságra lesz kárhoztatva. Fejszével kellett rést ütnünk a hajó mellvédjén, hogy utat nyissunk a felgyülemlő víznek.

Hajnalra hirtelen kiderült az idő. Ekkor láttuk, hogy minden erőfeszítésünk mellett is, hogy a hajót helyben tartsuk, a szél és az áramlás ötven-hatvan kilométerre elsodort észak felé. A csillapodó tengeren most már szépen visszahajóztunk, egyenesen a Royds-fokra.

Reggel partra szálltam. Megnyugvással láttam mindjárt, hogy a kunyhó túlélte a vihart. Társaimtól hallottam, hogy alaposan megrázta és megremegtette a kis házikót a rettentő szélvész. Ha nem erre a védett helyre építjük, alighanem darabokban szedhettük volna össze a vihar után. Kevésbé volt biztató jelenség a kunyhó belsejének erős lehűlése. Az

egyfolytában való szakadatlan fűtésnek alig volt látszatja. A kályha különös viselkedése méltán nyugtalanított; nem kényelmi kérdés, de valósággal létkérdés volt ez.

Partraszálló helyünkön megdöbbenéssel láttam, mit művelt a négynapos vihar. A készleteknek semmi nyoma. Embermagasságig betemetett mindent a tengervíz jéggé fagyott permetege. Négyötszáz lépésre hordta el a szélvész a fölkorbácsolt hullámokat s mint valami lepedőt terítette rá széjjelszórt ládáinkra. Félő volt, hogy hetekig tartó munkába kerül a készletek kiszabadítása. Attól is volt okunk tartani, hogy a tenger vize megrontotta a takarmányt. Egyelőre szó se lehetett róla, hogy belefogjunk az "ásatásba"; sürgetősebb volt ennél még a hátralevő szén kihordása, hagy a hajót útjára bocsáthassuk.

Február 22-én késő este megérkezett az utolsó szállítmány; ezzel együtt száznyolcvan métermázsa szenünk volt. Ennyivel kellett megérnünk a tavaszi szánutazások kezdetéig.

Megírtuk utolsó leveleinket, üzeneteinket és az utolsó csónak evezősei magukkal vitték búcsúüdvözleteinket. A Nimrod még ugyanabban az órában körülfordult észak felé és élénkülő széllel gyorsan távolodott a téli szállástól. Tizenkét nappal később megpillantották hazatérő társaink Új-Zéland partjait.

Nagy megnyugvással töltött el mindnyájunkat, hogy befejeztük végre a kirakodás keserves munkáját, és nem függünk többé a tenger jegének a szeszélyétől. Másfelől azonban reánk nehezedett a fojtogató érzés, hogy végleg el vagyunk vágva az emberi világtól. Nem várhatunk többé hírt a civilizációból, mindaddig, atnig a Nimrod vissza nem tér hozzánk a következő nyáron.* Addig még kemény munka, sok-sok küzdelem vár reánk és nem egy veszedelemnek kell szeme közé néznünk.

De nem volt idő merengésre, bárhogy hajlottunk is reá. Reggelre kelve hozzáfogtunk készleteink kiásásához és elszállításához a kunyhó szomszédságába.

Ennek a munkának a végeztével kezdhettük csak meg tudományos észleléseinket.

TIZEDIK FEJEZET.Téli szállásunk a Royds-fokon.

Napokon át szorgalmasan dolgoztak a csákányok, lapátok és emelőrudak, jégbetemetett ládáink kiszabadításán. Kétségtelenül megvolt a humora is ennek, a megfeszített munkának. Brocklehurst, akit erősen izgatott a csokoládé napfényre hozatala, minden erejével nekilátott, hogy egy bizonyos ládát kihámozzon jeges burkából. Amikor hosszas kínlódás után sikerült neki felszínre hozni, mohón igyekezett vele a kunyhó felé, hogy zsákmányát biztonságba helyezze. David professzor örömmel üdvözölte a kunyhó ajtajában: fölismerte egyik tudományos műszerét, amely kakukktojásként került bele a csokoládés ládába.

* Február a déli félgömbön a mi augusztusunknak felel meg. A következő nyár az 1909 újesztendő körüli időt jelenti. Lásd a 32. fejezetet: Értünk jön a Nimrod.

A lovakat is befogtuk a szállítás munkájába. Tíz nappal a hajó útrakelése után már minden holmink szépen együtt volt a kunyhó körül, éppen csak a szénrakomány volt hátra. Mindössze egyetlen láda sörünk nem került elő, máig sem: a Challenger-expedíció jelentését pedig, amelyet hasznos olvasmánynak szántunk a téli hónapokra, néhány nappal végleges hazatérésünk előtt sikerült csak előkerítenünk.

Hol egyikünk, hol másikunk sérült meg, vagy zúzódott meg, ha nem is súlyosan. Bosszantó volt, hogy a legjelentéktelenebb sebek milyen lassan gyógyulnak.

Marshallnak éppen elég nyűglődése volt velünk. Másnap, hogy magunkra maradtunk, leöltünk mintegy száz pingvint és a húsát beástuk mélyen egy hófúvásba a kunyhó közelében.

Február 28-án elégedetten tekinthettünk szakadatlan munkánk eredményére. Ezen a napon elindulhattunk végre téli tanyánk környékének kikutatására.

A kunyhó ajtajából, amely északnyugatnak nézett, pompás kilátás nyílt a McMurdo-átjáró jegére és a nyugati hegyekre. Egyenesen előttünk volt egy tavacska, amelyet Pony Lake-nek ("lovacska-tónak") neveztünk el. Tőle balra egy másik jégtükör. Ősz felé ezt belepte a hó. Ez lett a gyakorló- és játszóterünk a téli hónapokban. A lovakat is itten szoktattuk és jártattuk. Játékterünknek a Green Park nevet adtuk (a londoni Green Parkról). Ha föl és le végigléptük, oda és vissza, fél kilométernél többet jártunk meg vele. Itt játszottunk hokit meg futballt.

A Green Parktól balra menedékes lejtő vitt le két szirtfal között a tengerre, egy öbölhöz, melyet a döglött ló öblének (Dead Horse Bay) kereszteltünk el. Ennek a völgylejtőnek két oldalán volt a pingvinek költőhelye.

A kunyhóból kilépve, csak az épület sarkát kellett megkerülni, és megpillantottk az Erebus-tűzhányót. Csúcsa jó huszonnyolc kilométerre volt téli szállásunktól, de legalsó lejtője már úgy ezer lépésre kezdődött a kunyhótól.

Kilátásunkat kelettől délnyugatnak a völgyünk fejénél emelkedő dombhát szegte be, amely völgynek az alján a kunyhónkat építettük. Ha fölkapaszkodtunk erre a dombhátra, elláttunk az öblön át délkeletre, a Barne-fok felé. Jobbra tőlünk volt a Flagstaff-fok ("zászlórúd"-fok). A legmagasabb pont körülöttünk nem haladta meg a száz métert.

Voltak kedvelt helyeink, ahova gyakorta elsétáltunk: így például a Sandy Beach (Fövenyes tengerpart). Néha ott jártattuk a lovakat; kedvükre hempergőztek a puha homokban.

A környék tájképi szépsége tekintetében sokkal, de sokkal szerencsésebb helyen voltunk, mint a Discovery-expedíció, amely szintén a McMurdo-átjáróban telelt. A geológusnak és a biológusnak is sokkal többet nyújtott ez a hely. David professzor és Priestley szeme előtt a geológia történetének egy új fejezete tárult itten fel. Murray

számára kincsesbánya volt a sok apró tó: Kék-tó (Blue Lake), a Tiszta-tó (Clear Lake) meg a Parti-tó és a Zöld-tó (Coast Lake és Green Lake). Adams, a meteorológus sem panaszkodhatott: az Erebus kúpja tisztán látható volt az észlelő állomásról, és ez a szerencsés körülmény és az Erebus párafelhője sok fontos új megfigyelést tett lehetővé a tudománynak ebben az ágában. Mawson a jég viselkedését, fizikai és egyéb sajátságait tanulmányozta; erre kiválóan alkalmas volt a téli szállás környéke.

TIZENEGYEDIK FEJEZET.A kunyhó.

Tíz nap sem forgott bele: készen állt a kunyhó, jóllehet még hetekbe került, amíg igazán az a meghitt fészek vált belőle, ahol mindenki minden cókmókját keze ügyében leli és tökéletesen otthon érzi magát.

Nem volt valami nagyon tágas lakás tizenötünk számára, de ha nagyobb, hidegebb is lett volna.

Eleinte a házikó leghidegebb része a padlózat volt, amely hüvelykvastagságú, egymásba eresztett hajópallóból készült. A kunyhó egyik végében jókora szabad tér volt a kunyhó alatt; többi része a talaj szintjén állott. Világos, hoy amíg ez az üreg ott tátong a kunyhó alatt, szenvedni fogunk a hidegtől. Elhatároztuk tehát, hogy a kunyhó délkeleti és déli oldalát fallal vesszük körül, amit persze ládákból építünk, többsorosan, vulkáni földdel töltve ki a hézagokat.

A kunyhó benyílójának (pitvarnak nem nevezhetem) mindkét oldalán egy-egy építmény emelkedett. Egyik volt az éléstár. Ez kétszersültes ládákból épült, nemez- és ponyvatetővel. Ebben a helyiségben Wild volt az úr – ő volt az élelmiszerek szigorú őre és gondozója.

A másik építményt Mawson vegytani és fizikai laboratóriumnak szánta, de bizony a végén csak raktár lett belőle, mert majd' oly hideg volt benne, akár a szabadban. A kunyhóból kiáramló nyirkos levegő csodálatos jégkristályokkal lepett be mindent ebben a helyiségben.

A kunyhó szélmentes falához ragasztottuk később az istállót, hogy lovainkat kellőleg megóvjuk a téli fagyoktól. Első éjszaka, amikor idetelepítettük a lovakat, egyikünk sem hunyta le a szemét, olyan zenebonát vittek véghez. Az állatok egy része kiszabadította magát, kiszökött az ólból, vissza a völgybe, régi helyükre. Nem volt könnyű őket beszoktatni. Grisi, a legélénkebb vérű közülük, egy ízben fejébe vette, hogy bekukucskál az ablakon. Kénytelenek voltunk az ablakok alsó felét bedeszkázni.

A házikó délkeleti végébe épített kamarában tartottuk a szerszámos ládát, a cipészfölszerelést, amely állandóan nagy keresletnek örvendett, és még sok egyebet. De az első hóvihar kikémlelte ezt a helyet, lehordta a tetejét, és erre a fal beomlott.

Amikor elült a szél, egész csapatot szerveztünk, hogy felkutassunk olyan dolgokat, mint például az érmelegítő, kucsma, és a többi; találtam is egy új harmadfél kilós nemezcsizmát, kétezer lépésre a kosártól, amelybe be volt ágyazva. Ezt a távolságot biztosan úgy repülte át, mert sehol semmi karcolás nem mutatkozott rajta.

A kutyaólakat a kunyhó benyílója közelében állítottuk föl. A meteorológiai állomás egy kis dombhát széljárta oldalán talált helyet. Ezt Adams vette gondjaiba. Éjjel-nappal kétóránként kellett leolvasnia a műszereket. A kunyhó és az állomás között sodronykötelet feszítettünk ki, hogy hóvihar idején el ne tévelyedjünk. A kötelet földbe süllyesztett póznákhoz erősítettük, amelyeket jégdarabokkal szilárdítottunk meg.

*

Ami a kunyhó belsejét illeti, első dolog volt kipécézni mindenkinek a maga külön helyét. Rájöttünk, hogy a legbölcsebb, ha keresztben, hosszában kötelet feszítünk, felosztjuk a térséget és két-két ember megosztozik egy-egy elkülönített hálóhelyen. Egy-egy ilyen két emberre való zug két méter hosszú volt a fal mentén, és fél arasszal hosszabb a kunyhó belseje felé. Hét ilyen kettős hálóhely volt. A nyolcadikban az expedíció vezetője telepedett meg.

A belső berendezés egyik legfontosabb része volt a fényképező sötétkamara. Szűkében lévén a fának, befőttesüveges ládákból építettük a falát. A sötétkamarát a kunyhó baloldali sarkában állítottuk föl. A ládákat fedelükkel kifelé fordítottuk, úgy, hogy a tartalmát kiszedegethessük anélkül, hogy a falat meg kelljen bolygatnunk. A kamara belsejét Mawson es David szerelték fel, a lehető legtökéletesebben.

A sötétkamarával szemben volt az én szobám, – akkora, mint a többi – deszkafalakkal különítve el, deszkatetővel. A magassága is ugyanannyi volt, mint a hosszabbik oldala: valamicskével a 2 méteren felül. Az én szobámban volt a könyvtár, a kronométerek, barográf, hőmérő.

A sötétkamara és az én lakásom között szereltük fel az acetiléngáz-fejlesztőt. Világításunk a szó szoros értelmében fényűző volt.

Mellettem volt Adams és Marshall fedezéke,* Venesta ládákból rögtönzött polcokkal. Olyan csinos és rendes volt ez a lakás, hogy csak ezen a néven emlegettük: Park Lane 1. sz. **. Itt még az ágyak is finomak voltak: összeszíjazott bambuszrudakból; egyik végük a falba erősített kiálló éken, a másik székeken nyugodott. Nappalra föl lehetett húzni az ágyakat.

Az Adams és Marshall fészkét Marston és Day hálóhelyétől elválasztó függönyt Napóleon és az orleans-i szűz életnagyságú színes ábrázolásai díszítették, s minthogy az orleans-i szűz s részben Napóleon is átázott és átütött a függönyön, Marstonéknak nem volt szükségük külön faldíszre. Itt volt elhelyezve a kőnyomó sajtó.

* Ezért a szóért nem Shackleton felelős. Ő a háború előtt írta könyvét. A fordító azonban nem állhatott ellent, hogy legalább egyszer le ne írja a fedezék szót akkor, amikor csakugyan ilyesféle dologról van szó. A kunyhó egész berendezése, a polcok, miegymás, a zsúfoltság, a kezdetlegesnek éS a fényűzőnek furcsa vegyüléke s ez az egész robinsoni élet eszünkbe juttatja háború- és hadifogságbeli szállásainkat.

** A Park Lane a legelőkelőbb utcák egyike a londoni West Endben. A Hyde Park mentén húzódik, az Oxford Streettől a Piccadilly-ig, (pontosabban: a Marble Archtól a Green Park-ig).

Azután következett Armytage és Brocklehurst kezdetleges fülkéje, majd pedig a feleakkora éléskamra, amely egyúttal pékműhelynek is szolgált.

A kályhán túl az éléskamrával szemben laktak Mackay és Roberts, akika szomszéd fedezék gazdáival megegyeztek, hogy nem választják el egymástól hálóhelyeiket. Ennek az lett a következménye, hogy örökös határvillongás dúlt közöttük. Priestley, aki Murray-vel osztozott ezen a szomszédos hálóhelyen, s aki igen béketűrő volt, kijelentette, hogy hiszen jó-jó, sebaj, ha éppen véletlenségből ráraknak is egy széket vagy az Encyclopaedia Britannica egyik-másik kötetét, amíg alszik, de mégis úgy véli, mindennek van határa, és nem múlhatlanul szükséges, hogy a sáros csizmát, azonmód, ahogy a gazdája az istállóban járt vele, hozzá vagdossák.

A következő odút, amely a Jómadarak menedéke (The Rogues' Retreat) nevet viselte, Wild és Joyce foglalta el. A cím – két marcona söröző alak – képben is meg volt festve az odú bejáratán. Az ágy – a legelső a kunyhóban – nagyobb titokzatosság kedvéért Wild kamarájában "épült". Általános csodálkozás és irigység fogadta a remekművet. Igen ám, de a mesterek nem számoltak az ajtó nayságával: az ágy nem fért be az ajtón, ketté kellett fűrészelni.

David tanáré és Mawsoné lett az utolsó lakosztály. Ez volt a legfestőibb. A fényképezőgépek, spektroszkópok, mikroszkópok és hasonló furfangos készülékek egymás hegyén-hátán hevertek a takarókon. A két tudós férfiú tücsköt-bogarat gyűjtött bádogtégelyekben, a nyoszolya egyik végén halomba gyűlt a sok fényes bádogtartály és színes szalmakupak. Úgy festett az egész, mint valami ausztráliai madárnak a fészke. A lakosztály – ha nem is a bennelakók jóvoltából – ezt a nevet kapta: Zálogház. (The Pawn Shop.)

A kunyhó közepén álló kecskelábú asztalt helykímélés okából úgy szerkesztettük meg, hogy étkezés után fölhúzhassuk a magasba. Lábai kivehetők voltak. Abroszt nem használtunk.

A kályhát, amely a viharkor oly csúfosan cserbenhagyott, szétszedtük. Akkor derült ki, hogy pontosan nyolc főbenjáró alkatrészt felejtettünk ki belőle. Mihelyt ezeket pótoltuk, nagyszerűen működött. Több mint kilenc hónapon keresztül legfeljebb ha tíz percre hagytuk kialudni egyszer-egyszer tisztogatás céljából. Éjjel-nappal fűlt szakadatlanul. A kunyhó hőmérséklete állandóan harminc-negyven fokkal enyhébb volt a külső levegőnél.

Ha ma visszagondolok a letűnt napokra, váltig furcsállom, hogy annyi fáradságot szenteltünk kunyhónk csinosítására és berendezésére, mikor hiszen végre is csak ideiglenes otthonunk volt. De ne feledjük: lakóinak az egész világot jelentette akkor ez az otthon! Csoda-e, ha tőlünk telhetőleg igyekeztünk derültté és vidámmá varázsolni?!

4. kép. A kunyhó. Kilátás észak felé.– Balról Joyce kunyhója ládákból.

TIZENKETTEDIK FEJEZET.Szánutazó fölszerelés.

A sarkutazók szánjai folyton módosultak az idők folyamán. Minden új tapasztalat hozzáadott vagy elvett belőle valamit. Így jutottak el mai formájukhoz. Elsősorban mégis Nansent illeti az érdem: az ő leleményessége tette a szánt azzá a hasznos járművé, amilyennek mi ismerjük.

A Discovery-expedíción szerzett tapasztalatuk meggyőztek róla, hogy a tizenegy láb (pontosan 334 centiméter) hosszúságú szán felel meg legjobban az általános használatra. Mi mégis vittünk magunkkal tizenkét láb (365 cm) hosszú szánokat is, arra gondolva, hogy a ló ezeket a nagy szánokat is könnyűszerrel elvontatja.

A jó sarkutazó-szánnak szilárdnak kell lennie felső építményében, mindamellett azonban olyannak, hogy talpa az egyenetlen térszínhez némiképpen hozzásimuljon. A jól szerkesztett szán hajlékony, anélkül, hogy ez rovására esnék a szerkezet szilárdságának. A mi szánjaink tökéletesen megfeleltek ennek a követelménynek.

A szántalp hickoryfából készült; szélessége mintegy tíz centiméter.

A másik kényes kérdés a szán magassága, tekintettel a hóba való süppedésre. Megfigyeltük, hogy rendes körülmények között teljességgel elegendő, ha a szán felépítménye 15 centiméter magas. Ilyen volt a mienk is.

A 334 centiméteres szán 300 kilogramm súlyú rakománnyal kifogástalanul működik, de megbír jóval nagyobb megterhelést. Partraszálláskor gyakran fölraktunk rá öt métermázsát. Meg se kottyant neki.

Főbenjáró fontosságú sarkutazáson a főzőedény és a főzőkályha (vagy más szóval: lámpa). Ebben is Nansen gyakorlati szellemének tartozunk hálával. Az ő terve szerint szerkesztett főzőkészüléket használják ma is. Az égő a közönséges "primus"-lámpa, amelyben kerosene-t (egy bizonyos fajta amerikai kőolajat) égetnek.

A főzőkészülék olyan kitűnő és gazdaságos, hogy 40–45 fokos hidegben félóra alatt elolvad a jég vagy a hó, és meg is fő benne a meleg étel – a fél órát attól a perctől számítva, amikor a főzőedényt jéggel tele föltesszük a lámpára. És ez az egész készülék, lámpástul, mindenestül nem nyom egészen hét kilogrammot.

Következő fontos kellék a sátor. A mi sátraink három-három személyre voltak méretezve. Ez a legcélszerűbb, mert rendesen ennyien vannak egy-egy csoportban, az egyes szánok mellett.

Egyszerű sátorrúd helyett öt tömör bambuszkarót használtunk, egyik végükön hüvelybe foglalva. (Ez így erősebb is, könnyebb is).

A sátor belsejében kerek, vastag vízálló Wilksden-féle ponyvát terítettünk le, hogy a hálózsák ne közvetlenül érje a földet – mármint havat.

Általános a hiedelem, hogy a sarkutazók az orruk hegyéig bundákba burkolóznak. Tapasztalataink azt mutatják, hogy a kesztyűt, lábbelit és a hálózsákot kivéve, a prémekre általában nincsen szükség.

A zsák szó betű szerint veendő: valóban hosszúzsákról van szó, felső végén hasítékkal a belebújásra.

A szánutazó étvágyát, aki kemény hidegben órák hosszat tartó vontatás után tanyát üt, talán irigyelnék, de nem tudnák megérteni odahaza. Szó ami szó, minket magunkat is gyakran ámulatba ejtett, amikor hatalmas adagjaink eltüntetése után csak oly éheseknek éreztük magunkat, akárcsak annakelőtte.

Az élelmiszerek megválasztásában rajta voltam, hogy melegadó és hústfejlesztő anyagot nyújtsunk a testnek; kerültük azokat a tápanyagokat, amelyekben sok a víz. Konyhánk nem volt valami változatos, de a farkasétvágyú ember nem kényeskedik, neki az a fő, hogy többet ehessék, – és éppen ez az, amit nem engedhet meg magának az utazó, ha messze útra megy magavonta szánokon.

Az a tudat, hogy az ennivaló kielégíti az elméleti szükségletet, vajmi kevéssé csitítja el az éhes ember étvágyát, ha nem érzi, hogy jóllakott, és az éhség ördöge kínozza.

A pemikán volt egyik legfőbb élelmiszerünk. A legfinomabb marhahúslisztből és zsírból készült ez a tápanyag a koppenhágai Beauvais cégnél. Hatvan százaléka volt zsír.

Nevezetes szerepe jut a sarkvidéki táplálkozásban a kétszersültnek. Gondom volt rá, hogy a mi kétszersültünk vastagabb legyen, mint amilyet a korábbi expedíciók vittek magukkal.

A szokásos kétszersült nagyon törékeny, én tehát vastagabbat rendeltem a Plasmon Company-nél, napjára és fejenként – szánutazások idején – egy angol fontot (45 dekagrammot) számítva. Ez a mennyiség jelentékenyen több a Discovery-expedíció fejadagjánál; igaz ugyan, hogy később, amikor fogytán volt már az élelmiszer a nagy déli és északi úton, jóval lejjebb kellett szállítanunk igényeinket. A kétszersült minőségével nem volt semmi baj; a plasmon belekeverése határozottan megnövelte táplálóerejét, és amellett az ilyen kétszersült kevésbé volt törékeny. Fontos ez is, mert az eltöredezett darabok megnehezítik a pontos adagolást.

Szánutakon tea és kakaó volt az italunk. Reggel és délben teát ittunk, este kakaót, mert a kakaó álmosító. A cukorból, ebből a nagyon értékes melegfejlesztő tápanyagból, napjában mintegy tizenöt dekagramm jutott minden emberünkre.

Csokoládét, sajtot és zablisztet is vittünk. Megvolt az az érzésünk, hogy eledeleink, ha nem is nagyon változatosak, a lehető legtáplálóbb anyagokból vannak összeválogatva. A téli szálláson jóval változatosabb étrendünk volt.

A ruházat kérdéséről szólottam már általánosságban. Hogy melyik viselet nyújtja a leghatékonyabb védelmet a hideg ellen, a vélemények szétgazók. A fej és a fül védelmére gyapjúkendőt csavartunk körül a fejtetőn és állunk alatt; így védtük fülünket az elfagyástól. A fül a legkényesebb testrész, az fagy meg legkönnyebben.

Szokásos viseletünk szánutazáson következő volt: vastag Jäger-alsóruha; nehéz kék "pilótavászon" nadrág, Jäger-féle flanellkabát; felsőruhának pedig – legfőbb védelmül a hideg és a szél ellen – Burberry-zubbony és nadrág. Kezünkön gyapjú, prémes érmelegítő. Lábunkon több pár nehéz gyapjú félharisnya, tetejébe finncsizma.

A fej és az arc védelmére gyapjúkendőt (muffler) csavartunk körül kétszeresen a fejtetőn és az állunk alatt; ez védte egyúttal a fület. A gyapjúkendőt az áll alatt a nyakunkon is körülcsavartuk.

Fejünkön – a kendő fölött – bolyhos puha sisakfélét viseltünk, olyanformát, amilyet a régiek viseltek hajdanában. Éppencsak a sisakrostély hiányzott róla.

Hóvihar idején a gyapjúkendőt levettük és a sisak fölé még egy Burberry-sisakot tettünk a fejünkbe. Ennek elöl merev lelógó függeléke van, amely tölcsér formájára összegombolható. Kemény fagyok idején, vagy ha szeles idő jár, időről-időre szemügyre vettük egymás arcát, nem mutatkoznak-e rajta az elfagyás tünetei. Ha a jellemző fehér foltok jelentkeztek, azonnal hozzáfogtunk az erélyes kezeléshez.

TIZENHARMADIK FEJEZET.A lovak és a kutyák.

Korábbi tapasztalásaink meggyőztek arról, hogy nagyon szerencsés újítás lenne, ha kutyák helyett lovakat használnánk a szánok vontatására. Úgy számítottam, hogy egy ló legalább tíz kutyával fölér és nagyobb távolságot jár meg napjában. Amellett kevesebb vesződség van velük.

Kockázatos vállalkozás volt lovakat vinni magunkkal a messze északról, keresztül a forró égövön. Már maga a négyezer kilométers hajózás, a viharos déli óceánon, parányi hajónkkal, rengeteg nehézséget jelentett. Nem csoda, hogy mire partraszálltunk, már csak nyolc lovunk maradt a tízből, amelyet Új-Zélandon hajónkra vettünk. Szerencsétlenségünkre ebből a nyolcból is négy elhullott a téli szálláson, mindjárt az első hónapban.

A négy közül három abba pusztult bele, hogy az első időkben homokos földön pányváztuk ki őket, és nem vettük észre, hogy – eszik a homokot! Nem adtunk sót nekik, ez az oka, hogy a sós ízű homokra ráfanyalodtak.

Akkor jöttünk rá a dologra, amikor Sandy nevű lovunk elhullott és fölboncoltuk, hogy a halál okát kipuhatoljuk. Ijedten vettük észre ekkor, hogy már a többiek közül is betegeskedik egyik-másik. Azonnal máshova tereltük őket, ahol nem juthattak többé homokhoz, de már késő volt: a bajnak még két újabb áldozata lett.

A negyedik lovat mérgezés következtében vesztettük el. A mandzsúriai ló minden rághatót megeszik, es sajátságosképpen – vagy nem is sajátságosképpen – valahogy forgácsot falt föl, amelyben vegyszerek voltak. Veszteségünk komoly aggodalomba ejtett mindnyájunkat.

Négy lovunk maradt: Quan, Socks, Grisi és Chinaman. Ezek már most mérhetetlen kincset jelentettek, árgus szemmel őrködtünk fölöttük. A tél folyaman sok alkalmunk nyílt rá, hogy jártatás és szoktatás közben tanulmányozzuk az állatok különböző jellemét és föltűnő értelmességüket. Furfangosságuk olykor ugyancsak sok fejtörést és bosszúságot okozott.

Quan volt a legrakoncátlanabb. Nem nyugodott, míg el nem rágta a kötőfékjét, hogy megostromolja a mögötte fölhalmozott takarmánykötegeket. Amikor meg láncra kötöttük, egész éjszakákon át csapdosta a láncát a kunyhó falához, hogy a szemünket se tudtuk lehunyni tőle.

Grisi volt a legjobbképű lovunk. De ez meg annyit marakodott a társaival, hogy külön ólat kellett neki építenünk.

Socks roppant elevenvérű állat volt, de kezes és jóindulatú.

Chinaman volt talán a legerősebb a négy között. Mogorva képű, de a legjobb húzó jószág. Ö is szerette elrágni a kötőféket, de amikor láncra kötöttük, nem utánozta társát a lánc csörgetésében.

Kutyáink közül kilenc maradt életben, nem szólva a kutyakölykökről, amelyeknek legnagyobbrésze idő előtt elpusztult. A kutyák jelenléte fölélénkítette téli szállásunk életét és valami otthonias érzést ébresztett bennünk. Meg-megújuló érdeklődéssel figyeltük a kutyakölykök növekedését; mindegyiknek megvolt a maga egyéni furcsasága. Egytől-egyig fehérek voltak. Kitűnő hasznukat vettük később a lovak őrzésében. Az istállóban aludtak, s mihelyt valami riadalom támadt vagy elszabadult valamelyik ló, éktelen ugatás közben körülfogták, és fölriasztották az éjjeli őrt.

Emlékszem, egyszer Grisi kiszabadult, kirohant az istállóból; a kutyakölykök egész hada utána. Amikor Mackaynek sikerült beterelni a szökevényt, a kutyák büszkén követték a menetet, mint akik érzik, hogy megtették kötelességüket.

Minthogy csak négy lovunk maradt, gondolnunk kellett rá, hogy a kutyák ifjú nemzedékét is munkába fogjuk. Hozzáfogtunk hát az idomításukhoz, bármennyire idegenkedtek is tőle a szabadsághoz szokott állatok. Amikor az első nyakörvet megérezték, határtalanul megrémültek. Még kevésbé volt ínyükre a hám; a szánba fogva egyszerűen lefeküdtek.

Peary könyveiből tudjuk, hogy az északi sarkvidéken a kutyák roppant távolságokat megfutnak fürge iramban. Egy ízben kétszáz kilométeres utat járt meg velük huszonhárom óra alatt. De ez nyilván sima tengerjégen vagy sima jégborította szárazföldön történhetett. A délsarki jégperem – a Barrier – szélvájta felszínén ez elképzelhetetlen. Ez a térszín még a motoroskocsin is kifogott, keserves csalódásunkra.

TIZENNEGYEDIK FEJEZET.Az Erebus tűzhányó.

Március 3-áig minden figyelmünket lekötötte a téli szálláson való berendezkedésünk ezernyi apró feladata. Ekkoriban azonban kezdtük keresni az alkalmat, hogy erőnket és energiánkat a tudomány és az expedíció céljai érdekében mozgósítsuk.

Nyugtalanul vártam már, mikor nyílik rá mód, hogy depót állíthassunk föl délen nagy nyári utazásunk megkönnyítésére; a nyílt víz azonban, köztünk és a Hut Point között, elvágta utunkat déli irányban. A nyugati hegyek felé sem hatolhattunk előre, amerre pedig érdekes eredményeket ígérő geológiai kutatások vártak reánk.

Egyetlen útra gondolhattunk, amely bár küzdelmes, de épp ezért érdekes és izgató vállalkozásnak mutatkozott, és ez az Erebus csúcsának megmászása.

Mind geológiai, mind pedig meteorológiai tekintetben kívánatosnak látszott ez a vállalkozás. De a tudományos céltól és érdekességtől eltekintve is, egyszerűen mint hegymászókat is méltán izgathatott ez a feladat. Már csak a hegy magassága is tekintélyes: 4000 méter körül.

Némi fontolgatások után David tanárt, Mawsont és Mackayt szemeltem ki abba a csoportba, amelynek feladata lesz megkísérelni a hatalmas délsarki vulkán legmagasabb

ormának elérését. Tíz napra való élelmiszert kellett vinniök magukkal. Segítő csapatként Adams, Marshall és Brocklehurst fogja elkísérni őket, ameddig csak eljuthatnak. Amíg együtt tart a két csoport, a parancsnokság Adamst illeti; a segítő csoport visszafordulása után a főcsapat vezetését David tanár veszi át.

Írásos utasításom felhatalmazta Adamst, hogy a maga csapatát is fölvezérelje a hegy csúcsára, ha úgy ítéli, hogy meg tud birkózni a feladattal. Adams csakugyan így cselekedett, jóllehet csak hat napra való élelmet vitt magával, és fölszerelése sem volt olyan tökéletes, mint a főcsapaté.

Utasításom szerint a segítőcsoportnak nem szabad a főcsoportot előnyomulásában semmiképpen akadályozni – így például nem szabad annak az élelmiszerkészleteiből bármit is megosztani – ellenkezőleg: mindenben támogatnia kell a főcsapatot. Így is lett: a segédcsapat teljesen a maga erejére támaszkodott és nagy segítségére volt David professzor csapatának.

Március 5-én reggel fél kilenckor útra kelt a hat ember.

Olyan hatalmas hegyen, mint az Erebus, nyilvánvaló volt, hogy hamarosan elérik azt a határt, amelyen túl a szán már nem használható. Ezzel a körülménnyel számolva szíjazatokat vittek magukkal, amelyekkel a hálózsák – benne a fölszerelés többi kellékeivel – hátizsák módjára fölszíjazható legyen az emberek hátára. Mindenki külön hálózsákot vitt.

Amint útnak eredt a társaság, megvallom, nem nagyon bizakodtam benne, hogy mind a hatan följutnak a hegytetőre. Mikor azonban harmadnapra Armytage messzelátóján keresztül fölfedeztem a hat apró fekete pontot, amint kapaszkodnak fölfelé a végtelen, mély hómezőn, és negyednapra megint csak együtt láttam ugyanazokat a parányi alakokat a szemhatár szélén: már tudtam, hogy a segítőcsoport az egész utat végig meg fogja járni.

Mielőtt reátérnék, hogy David és Adams színes, szemléltető előadása alapján elbeszéljem a hegy megmászásának történetét, mondanom kell valamit a hegyről, amelybe ez a hat vándor – egytől-egyig újdonsült sarkutazó, sőt újdonsült hegymászó – belevágta sarkantyúját.

Az Erebus neve messze kiemelkedik a sarki fölfedezések – mind az északi, mind a déli sarki kutatások – történetében. 1841. január 28-án Sir James Clark Ross adta ezt a nevet expedíciója vezérhajójáról, a hatalmas vulkánnak, amelynek aljában mi mostan téli szállásunkat berendeztük.

Az Erebus hajó végzete Sir John Franklin sorsával, a sarki utazások egyik legtragikusabb eseményével, kapcsolódik egybe. De habár az Erebus és a Terror első kutatásaik színterétől messze-messze süllyedtek is el: a délsarki fölfedezések ama ragyogó korszakának emlékét hirdetni fogják a hegyek, amelyek azokról a derék hajókról kapták nevüket.

Az Erebus, mint valami őrtálló óriás, magasodik a Nagy Jégfal kapujában. Nagyszerű kép. A hegy tetején óriási beszakadás jelöli a régi kráter helyét, és mellőle tolul a magasba a működő vulkáni kúp, pára- és füstfelhőbe burkolódzva.

Ekkora hegyóriás megmászása a világ bármely részében nehéz feladat. A tekintélyes déli szélesség (77 1/2 fok), amelyen az Erebus emelkedik, ezt a nehézséget sokszorosan megnöveli. Embereink azonban el voltak rá szánva, hogy legyűrik a nehézségeket és fölkapaszkodnak a tűzhányó kráterére. Élményeiket és tapasztalataikat az ő jelentéseik nyomán a következő két fejezet beszéli el.

TIZENÖTÖDIK FEJEZET.Útban az Erebus krátere felé.

Ahányan csak voltunk, elkísértük egy darabon a hattagú csoportot, amikor március 5-én reggel útra kelt az Erebus megmászására. Együttes erővel könnyen lendült előre a szán a Back Door Bay lejtője mentén a Blue Lake-en (Kék-tavon) keresztül, majd fölfelé a keleti hegyoldalon. Az első meredek kapaszkodó előtt búcsút vettünk társainktól.

"Torony irányt" vágtak neki a hegynek. Hólejtőn kapaszkodtak egyenesen fölfelé, jó másfél kilométerre. Ott, százegynéhány méterre a tenger színe fölött gleccsermoréna állta útjukat. Úgy kellett rajta átemelniök a szánt, harmadfél métermázsás súlyos terhével, jégcsákányokat dugva keresztül a szán alatt. A moréna túlsó oldalán jég- és firnjég-borította lejtő vitt lefelé. Azon borult föl a szánjuk első ízben.

Az előnyomulás nehézségei gyorsan fokozódtak. Teljes erejük megfeszítésével, sokszor négykézláb vánszorogtak föl egy meredek jégáron. Eleinte az volt a baj, hogy nagyon is síkos volt a jég, majd meg, hogy szélvájta barázdák gátolták haiadásukat. Ezek a szasztrugok néven ismeretes szélmarta mélyedések tenyérnyi mélységtől szinte embermagasságig váltakoztak, a szél ereje és a sziklák helyzete szerint, amelyek a szelet száguldásában föltartóztatják. Amily bosszantók néha – éppoly szívesen látott segítői máskor a szánutazónak. Nélkülük olykor lehetetlenné válnék a tájékozódás. A szánutas megfigyeli, milyen szög alatt hajlanak ezek a szélvájta barázdák kitűzött célja irányához, és ehhez képest igyekszik előrejutni. Az iránytű lépésről-lépésre való figyelése lehetetlen lenne.

Utasaink ebben a pillanatban pokolba kívánták a "kanalas vájulatokat" – mindennek elmondták a szasztrugok keserves intézményét. Kifakadásaik – ha nem is éppen épületesek, – annál hallhatóbbak voltak.

Első este hat órakor a csapat 840 méter tengerszín feletti magasságban ütött tanyát, a téli szállástól 11–12 kilométerre.

Másnap a kaptató jóval meredekebbre vált: minden öt méternyi vízszintes távolságra már legalább egy méternyi emelkedés esett. Az útirányukat ferdén metsző mélyedések gyakran fölborították a szánt. A küzdelmes előnyomulás arra volt jó, hogy fölmelegítse

őket a –12 fokos hidegben. Öt kilométerrel jutottak távolabb ezen a napon, és estére 1700 méter magasságban táboroztak.

A következő reggel (7-én) Adams elhatározta, hogy a segítőcsapatok is megkísérlik a csúcs elérését, jóllehet roppantul akadályozta őket a hármójukkal közös hálózsák, amelyet egy embernek kellett cipelnie. Máskülönben is tökéletlenebbül voltak fölszerelve.

A hat hegymászó depót állított a második esti tanyahelyen. Hátrahagyták a szánt, élelmiszereket és a főzőkészségek egy részét, azután folytatták a mászást, hátukon teljes sátorberendezésükkel. Egyebeken felül a sátorkarók is nyomták a vállukat. Hamarosan rájöttek azonban, hogy ilyen alkalmatlan cókmókkal megrakodva sohasem jutnak föl a csúcsra, ezért hát a sátorkarókat, az első ezer lépésről visszavitték a tanyahelyre.

Így is mindegyikükre mintegy 18 kilogramm teher jutott, a hálózsákok, két sátor, főzőkészülék és három napi eleség együttes készletéből. A hólejtő meredekebbé vált. Mackay, miközben a lépcsőket faragta csákányával, megcsúszott és lehemperedett vagy negyven lépésnyire, de egyszeriben talpra állt.

Harmadik este 2670 méter magasságig küzdötték föl magukat. A hőmérséklet csaknem 30 fokra süllyedt. (A téli szálláson ugyanekkor 18 fok volt a fagypont alatt).

Ugyanez este heves szél kerekedett s reggelre (8-án) hóviharra ébredtek.

Az egymástól alig tíz lépésre táborozó két csoport egymás szavát nem hallotta a bömbölő szélviharban, és valósággal belevesztek a kavargó hófergetegbe. Napközben még dühöngőbbre fordult a vihar.

Ekkor történt, hogy Brocklehurst kimászott a közös hálózsákból és egy hirtelen szélroham lerántotta kezéről az egyik érmelegítőjét. Utána rohant, de a szél őt magát is elkapta és lesodorta egy szakadékba.

Adams, aki Brocklehursttel együtt bújt ki a hálózsákból, látta, amint Brocklehurstöt hirtelen elnyeli a szakadék. Azonnal visszafordult, hogy segítségül hívja Marshallt. Ezenközben azonban őt is leverte a lábáról a tomboló vihar.

Marshall, aki magára maradt a zsákban, maga is alig-alig tudta magát fenntartani, hogy zsákostul, mindenestül le ne söpörje a szélvész a szakadékba.

Végül is Adamsnek sikerült négykézláb valahogy visszamászni a hálózsákhoz. Ugyanekkor Brocklehurst is előkerült, a tíz körmével kapaszkodva föl a sziklákon, végső erőfeszítéssel. Hajszál híja, hogy el nem pusztult a kegyetlen hidegben.

Naphosszat s a rákövetkező egész éjszaka egyetlen csöpp italhoz nem jutottak. A szélvészben lehetetlen lett volna ébren tartani a főzőlámpa lángját, hogy rajta havat olvaszthassanak.

Hajnalra kelve elült a vihar és korai reggeli után folytatták útjukat. Az út még sokkal meredekebbre vált. Most már 34 fokos volt a lejtő, ami annyit jelent, hogy minden másfél méteren egy teljes méterrel kapaszkodtak följebb. Lehetőleg a hómentes sziklákon igyekeztek megfogódzni.

Brocklehurst, aki könnyű sícipőt viselt, sokat szenvedett a hidegtől, de nem vette elég komolyan a dolgot, hogy finncsizmát húzzon.

Déltájban alkalmas pihenőállomásra találtak a régi kráter pereme alatt mintegy harmadfélszáz méternyire. Sebtiben megittak egy teát és folytatták útjukat. A főkráter peremének a közelébe érve, Mackay elvált társaitól és a sziklákon kínálkozó biztos kapaszkodó helyett könnyelműen egy firnhó borította meredek lejtőn indult fölfelé jégcsákányával.

Csakhamar eltűnt szem elől. Kisvártatva elhaló kíáltások ütik meg társai fülét. Mackay adott jelt felülről, hogy gyengének érzi magát, nem bírja tovább.

Marshall és David elfulladva rohantak segítségére, és szerencsére rábukkantak azon a helyen, ahol sejtették. Halálra fáradtan támolygott feléjük az elveszett útitárs.

Kiderült, hogy Mackay, hátán súlyos terhével az összeroskadásig kimerült a lépcsőfaragás küzdelmes munkájában. Marshall levette róla a hátizsákot, mert roppantul odáig volt; éppen csak annyi ereje maradt, hogy elvergődjék egy biztos nyugvópontra – megszédült és összerogyott. Bizonyos, hogy részben a hegyi betegség okozta a bajt, ugyanaz a gyöngeség, amely Brocklehurstöt is kerülgette.

Tanyahelyre érve az utazók kedvükre megfigyelt hették a környező természetet. Azt várták volna, hogy a kihalt kráter falát színültig kitölti a gleccser vagy a firnjég, és úgy folytatódik menedékesen fölfelé a sima jégmező a működő kráter déli végződéséig; ehelyett arra eszméltek, hogy 25–30 méter mély fekete sziklameredély szélén állanak: a régi kráter belső peremén. A nagyobbrészt függőleges, sőt itt-ott előrebukó sötét lávafal talapzatát mély árok választja el a túlnan folytatódó hómezőtől, akárcsak valami hatalmas száraz várárok. Ezt az árkot a hóviharok vésték ki. A délkeleti szélrohamok, amint beleütköznek a kihalt kráter falába, visszavágódnak; és az így keletkező hatalmas szélörvény vájja ki a mély barázdát a kemény hóban.

Az árok mélysége 10–15 méter, s falai többé-kevésbé függőlegesek. Téli szállásunkon is tapasztaltuk ezt a jelenséget a délkeleti hóviharszél útjába eső sziklabércek alján.

De meglepőbbek voltak a hómező felszínén mutatkozó rendkívüli alakulatok, szeszélyes, festői bástyák és tornyok, méhkasra, tölcsérre, állatok alakjára emlékeztető furcsa képződmények, magányosan fölmeredő tűk. Első látásra egyikük se tudta megmagyarázni ezeknek a sajátszerű, felötlő alakulatoknak az eredetét. Közelebbi vizsgálatukat későbbre halasztották – itt volt az ideje, hogy megfőzzék jól megérdemelt ebédjüket.

Amint embereink végigmentek a régi kráterfal szegélyén, alkalmas tanyahelyet keresve, alakjaik belerajzolódtak az ég vonalába. Ekkor volt az, hogy messzelátóval fölfedeztük és megfigyelhettük mozgó alakjaikat a téli kunyhóból.

3. kép. Az Erebus krátere.

TIZENHATODIK FEJEZET.Az Erebus tűzhányó tetején.

A kiválasztott tanyahely az Erebus főkúpjának északnyugati lejtőjén volt, a régi kráter szegélye alatt mintegy 15 méternyire.

Amíg a társaság néhány tagja az ebédfőzéssel foglalatoskodott, Marshall megvizsgálta Brocklehurst lábát, aki most már bevallotta, hogy a lába jó ideje egészen érzéketlen. Csizmáját és harisnyáját levetvén, kiderült, hogy mindkét nagy lábujja megfeketedett és négy másik ujját is megmarta a fagy. Marshall és Mackay igyekezete, hogy helyreállítsák a vérkeringést, a körülményekhez képest elég sikeresnek volt mondható, habár a végleges gyógyulás roppant sokára következett be. Valóban hősi elszántság és önlegyőzés kellett hozzá, hogy ilyen gonosz fagyássebekkel kilenc órán keresztül másszék valaki hegyet szakadatlanul.

Ebéd után Brocklehurstöt gondosan bebugyolálták és magára hagyták a hármas hálózsákban. A többiek öten elindultak, hogy kikutassák a régi kráter fenekét.

Fölkapaszkodva a kráter peremére, annak a mentén botorkáltak végig a kráter falának egy réséig. Rövid vizsgálódás után a felé a szeszélyes jégképződmény felé irányították lépteiket, amely szembeötlően emlékeztetett holmi fekvő oroszlánra, s amelyből mintha

párák szállongtak volna fölfelé. A különös jégképződmények rejtélye hamarosan megoldódott.

David tanár fölismerte, hogy ezek a jégalakulatok megszilárdult fumarolák. A mérsékelt éghajlat alatt a vulkáni gőzök eredő helyét elárulja a fölötte lebegő párafelhő, s ha az ember beledugja a kezét a páraoszlopba, rendesen érzi is a meleget. Nem így a déli sarkvidék szigorú égalja alatt. Az Erebus fumarolái egyszerűen jéggé dermednek, mihelyt feljutnak a hómező felszínére.

Ilyen módon a új-zélandi, izlandi és Yellowstone Park-i gejzírek salakképződményeíhez hasonló jégalakulatok rakódnak le és épülnek föl az Erebus fumaroláinak nyílásai körül.

Forrpontmérővel ellenőrzött aneroidmérésük tanúsága szerint a régi kráter peremének tengerszint feletti magassága – közvetlen tanyahelyük felett – 3475 méter volt.

Másnap (10-én) kora reggel talpon volt a csapat. Az Erebus árnyéka pompás képben rajzolódott rá az alatta terjengő felhők gomolyaira a kelő nap fényében. Siettek a jelenlegi kráter csúcsa felé. Meredek lejtőn vitt az útjuk fölfelé, hol kemény havon, hol horzsakővel vegyes földpátkristályok óriási tömegein keresztül. Csakhamar elérték a hegymászók a vulkán működő kúpjának a talapzatát. Kínosan lassúvá vált az előnyomulás, a lélegzetvétel a nagy tengerszint feletti magasságban és a metsző hidegben egyre jobban megnehezült.

Az Erebus kúpja főképpen horzsakőből épült, ökölnyi nagyságúaktól úgy jó méternyi átmérőjű darabokig. Színük szürke, sokszor sárga volt a kénnel való bevonódásuktól; a széttöredezett darabok gyantaszerű barnás színeződésűek.

Délelőtt tíz órakor – négy órai kapaszkodás után – elérték a működő kráter peremét. A hat tagú csapat fönn állott az Erebus tetőfokán; az első emberek, akik legyűrték a földkerekségnek ezt a talán legjellegzetesebb, nevezetes hegyormát.* Méréseik szerint az Erebus magassága 4075 méter.

(Sir James Clark Ross 1841-ben 3769 méterre becsülte a hegyet. A Discovery-expedíció 1901-ben teodolitmérés útján előbb 3999, utóbb 3939 méterben állapította meg a magasságát.)

David és Adams leírása rendkívül élénken tárja elénk a nagyszerű és ünnepélyes jelenetet, amely onnan a magasból utazóink szeme előtt kibontakozott.

"Ott állottunk egy szakadék tátongó mélységei fölőtt. Eleinte a szakadéknak sem a fenekét, sem a túlsó partját nem mérhettük föl szemünkkel a krátert megtöltő és száz meg száz méter magas oszlopban fölszálló gőz roppant tömegétől. Percekig tartó folytonos sziszegő hangot hallottunk, majd hatalmas tompa zúgás hangja hatolt föl a mélyből, és közvetlen utána nagy gomolyokban tört föl a magasba a vulkáni pára, meg meglibbentve a kráter fölött örökké ott lebegő hófehér felhőtömegeket. Ez a jelenség megismétlődött néhányszor, mialatt ott állottunk a kráter szélén. A levegőt egész idő

alatt átható égő kénszag töltötte meg körülöttünk. Egyszer csak kellemes északi széláramlat kerekedett, elűzte a párafelhőt, és egyszeriben föltárult előttünk a kráter egész óriási kiterjedésében és mélységében. Mawson szögmérés útján mintegy 275 méterben állapította meg a kráter mélységét, legnagyobb szélességét pedig körülbelül 800 méterre becsüli. Legalább három határozottan megmutatkozó nyílást fedeztünk föl a kráter üstjének a fenekén – ezekből bugyborékoltak elő a gőzgomolyok."

* Négy évvel és nyolc hónappal ez után az emlékezetes hegymászás után hatolt föl a hegyre a második Scott-expedíció egyik csoportja, R. E. Priestley vezetésével. Lásd: Scott utolsó útja. Átdolgozta Halász Gyula. (A Magyar Földrajzi Társaság Könyvtára. Budapest, 1923.)

Befejezvén a méréseket, Mawson néhány fényképet vett föl a kráterről; a csoport ezekután sietve visszatért a tanyahelyre, hogy még aznap délután folytassa leszállását.

A visszatérő útban számos pompás földpátkristályt, horzsakövet és kéndarabot gyűjtöttek a hegymászók. A tanyahelyre érve sietve ettek valamit, szedték sátorfájukat és elindultak lefelé a meredek hegyoldalon. Brocklehurst mindenáron ragaszkodott hozzá, hogy maga cipelje nehéz batyuját.

Nemsokára olyan pontra ért a társaság, ahonnan vagy vissza kellett fordulni, vagy lépcsőket faragnia egy havas lejtő oldalába – avagy végül "leszánkázni" a lejtőn, mintegy 150–200 méternyire, egy kiálló sziklaparkányra. Amily fáradtak voltak, ezt az utóbbi megoldast választották – ez kívánta a legkevesebb erőfeszítést. Holmijukat átcsomagolták, hogy könnyűszerrel legörgethessék. Brocklehurst motyója, amelyben a főző felszerelés is volt, hangos csörömpöléssel tiltakozott a merénylet ellen, és az alumínium főzőedények alaposan be is horpadoztak, odalenn a sziklák kövein.

Ekkorára már az egész csapat erősen szenvedett a szomjúságtól. Annyira-mennyire segítettek magukon oly módon, hogy hólabdát gyúrtak és azt kitették egy szikla tetejébe; ott egyszeriben elolvadt a napmelegtől.

Adams és Marshall érték el elsőnek a depót. Négy óra alatt, délután háromtól hétig ezer, ötszáz méterrel ereszkedtek lejjebb. A nyolcadiki hóvihar alaposan megtréfálta őket: fölfordította a szánt, a hátrahagyott holmi szétszóródott és jórészt betemette a hófúvás. Az éjszakát a tanyahelyen töltötték, másnap reggel újra fölrakták a szánt és elindultak hazafelé.

A szélvájta barázdák annyi bajlódást okoztak, hogy a szántalpakra kötelet kötöttek, ketten támogatták a szánt, ketten húzták előre, ha kellett, ketten meg hátulról rángatták visszafelé, hogy el ne szaladjon. Még így is egyre-másra fölborultak a síkos térszínen, nemcsak a szán, ők maguk is, kivált akinek nem volt szeges cipője. Csak az alkothat helyes fogalmat róla, milyen keserves az efféle örökös bukdácsolás, aki maga próbálta. Lábuk alól ki-kiszaladt a föld, mint amikor tél idején csúszkára lép az ember a kövezeten.

Két óra alatt – reggel fél nyolcra – elérték az első tanyahelyet, a Royds-foktól 11–12 kilométerre. Hóvihar volt közeledőben. Fenyegető volt, hogy a délkeleti szélrohamok kergette hóförgetegben utat tévesztenek. Valamennyien fáradtak voltak, egyik sátrukba nagy lyukat égetett a főzőkályha, olajkészletük a végét járta, egyik kályhájuk használhatatlanná vált a csúsztatás alkalmával. Ennyi baj közepette elhatározták, hogy szánt, fölszerelést hátrahagyva, rohamot intéznek a téli szállásra.

A szürke félhomályban a szélbarázdák minduntalan megcsalták őket: nagyokat bukfenceztek a hóban. Végre megörvendeztette szemüket a Kék-tó fénylő tükre. Onnan már csak ezer lépés a téli szállás! Most, hogy a nehéz térszín mögöttük volt, lábukra mintha ólomsúly nehezedett volna: alig-alig vonszolták magukat. Az utolsó ezer lépés volt talán útjuk legfárasztóbb szakasza.

Ezenközben a kunyhóban buzgón nyitogattuk az élelmiszeres ládákat: távollevő társaink "fedezékei" csak úgy tarkállottak a kirakott mindenféle készletektől. Éppen hozzáfogtunk, hogy kitakarítsuk bajtársaink hálóhelyeit – David tanár lakosztályán kezdve a sort – amikor, pillanatra kilépve a kunyhóból, meglepetésemre hat nehézkesen mozgó alakot pillantok meg alig harminc lépésre magam előtt.

Feléjük rohanva odakiáltok:     – Voltatok fenn a csúcson?Semmi válasz.     – Följutottatok a csúcsra? – kérdezem újból.

Adams a kezével fölfelé mutat. De ez a felelet nem elégít ki. Harmadszor is megismétlem a kérdést, mire Adams kiböki a választ:     – Föl.

Berontok a kunyhóba, fölkiabálom a társaságot. Mindenki siet a szerencsés úttörők üdvözlésére. Jó tartalmas ételsor következik, amelyben a díszhely a zabkását illeti.

Néhány napra rá – a rossz időjárás enyhültével – Adams, David, Armytage, Joyce, Wild és Marshall kimentek az utazók szánjáért és fölszereléseért. Szerencsésen mindent hazahoztak.

David tanár előadása megvilágítja a vállalkozás tudományos eredményeit. Ezek közé tartozik az Erebus magasságának megállapítása, geológiai fölépítésének tanulmányozása, négy egymásba illeszkedő különböző korú kráter fölfedezése.

Fontosak a szél járására és a hőmérsékleti ingadozásokra vonatkozó észleléseik. Alkalmuk nyílt a "földárnyék" néven ismeretes fénytünemény jelentkezését meglesni. Napkeltekor az Erebus hatalmas kúpszerű árnyéka keresztülvetődött a McMurdo-átjárón. Az árnyék alakjából és a téli szálláson tett későbbi megfigyelésekből bizonyossággal elmondható, hogy ez a tünemény, ameyet Scott figyelt meg elsőnek, csakugyan az Erebus kúpjának az árnyéka.

"Kiváltképpen két jelenség szembeötlő az Erebus geológiájában" – írja David – "az egyik a nagy és tökéletes földpátkristályok roppant tömege, a másik a jégfumarolák... Az Erebus földrajzi helyzete, a sarkvidéki szélcsönd öve és a déli sark között; a zavaró nagy földtömegektől való elszigeteltsége; nagy magassága, amely fölnyúlik a légköri körforgás különböző régióiba és a kráteréből fölszálló állandó gőzfelhő, amely mint valami óriási lobogó libben erre-arra a szél járása szerint: mindez együtt az Erebus vulkánt a föld legérdekesebb pontjainak egyikévé avatja a meteorológus számára.

TIZENHETEDIK FEJEZET.Előkészületek a téli éjszakára.

Az Erebus megmászása után most már hozzáfogtunk az előkészületekhez a rohamosan közeledő téli hónapokra.

Roppant fontos volt például, hogy a geológusok mentől messzebb jussanak munkájukkal a téli éjszaka beállta előtt. David és Priestley kora reggeltől késő estig kinn jártak geológiai gyűjteményük gyarapítására, hogy legyen mit tanulmányoznunk, ha beáll a tél.

Murray biológiai vizsgálódáaira is tágas tér nyílott. A hosszabbodó éjszakák előre vetették árnyékukat: közeledett az idő, amikor a titokzatos Aurora Australis (a "déli fény") meg fogja lengetni csodás függönyeit és fénykévéit a téli szállás felett. Mawson már nagyban készülődött, hogy megfigyelje és följegyezze ezeket a tüneményeket.

Adams volt az expedíció meteorológusa. Reggel nyolctól este nyolcig minden észlelés az ő feladata volt; este tíztől reggel hétig az éjjeli őrre hárult ez a kötelesség.

A meteorológiai megfigyelő szekrény adatainak kiegészítésére Mawson fölállított még egy meg figyelő állomást a legmagasabb hegyhát tetején. Ebben elhelyezett egy magaszerkesztette anemometért, a hóviharok idején dúló leghevesebb szélrohamok erősségének a megörökítésére. Gyakran megesett, hogy a szélrohamok sebessége meghaladta az óránkénti 160 kilométert.

Mindezeken felül még egy időjárásjelző műszerünk volt a szabadban: a hómérő. A kályhacső néhány fölös darabjából David tanár szerkesztett egy hómérőt, amelyből a belehullott hó mennyisége a hó elolvadása után meg volt állapítható.

Ez a megfigyelés nagy jelentőségű, mert a lehulló hó mennyiségéből és a párolgás mértékéből indulnak ki az óriási hómezőkre és jégárakra vonatkozó számításaink. Mihelyt eléggé megszilárdult az öböl jege, Murray hozzáfogott a tengerfenék állati alakjainak a gyűjtéséhez. Léket vágott a jégbe és ritkán esett meg, hogy üresen húzza fel a hálóját.

Ha még oly gyér is a földfelszín növényzete a déli sarkvidéken: nem mondható el ugyanez a vízalatti növényvilágról. Murray, Priestley és David tanár egyik fő foglalkozása a téli hónapokban éppen a tavak növényi életének a vizsgálata volt.

A tél közeledtével szabályszerű téli munkaprogramot állapítottunk meg. Brocklehurst kivételével, aki ágyban feküdt elfagyott lábával, mindnyájunknak le kellett rónia a maga adóját a saját tudományos munkáján felül a "közmunkából" is.

Éjjelente őrt állítottunk; fölváltva valamennyien sorosak voltunk, éppen csak a szakácsot mentettük fel, mert hogy ő naphosszat el volt foglalva a főzéssel. A tél nagyobb részében tizenharmadnaponkint került ránk a sor.

Az éjjeli ügyeletes feladata nem is olyan kellemetlen, jóllehet sokféle kötelesség hárult reá: leolvasni a műszereket, ügyelni, hogy ki ne aludjék a tűz, ne történjék baj az acetilénnel, gondoskodni meleg vízről a reggelihez, vigyázni a kunyhóra, a lovakra és a kutyákra. Ilyenkor nyílt alkalmunk sok olyasmire, amire máskor nem jutott időnk: ruhamosás, harisnyafoltozás, fürdés, olvasás.

A fűtéssel akkor volt legkevesebb a baj, ha éppen jókora darabos szén volt a szeneszsákban. Ilyenkor nem volt nehéz fönntartani a 4–5 Celsius-foknyi meleget a kunyhóban. Az apró szénnel már több bajlódásunk akadt. Az éjjeli őr rendesen úgy segített magán, hogy a parázsló szénre fókahájdarabokat lökött.

Ebből a kisegítő fűtőanyagból nem fogy ki az ember ezekén a tájakon.

A tél dereka felé némely társunk azt a szokást kezdte, hogy tovább fenn virraszt este; ebből a szokásból nőtt ki a tizenegyórai tea intézménye. Kivált David tanár ragaszkodott nagyon az ő késő esti teájához, s rendesen ő vállalta az elkészítését azok számára, akik fönnmaradtak vele. Éjfél után egy órára elcsendesült a ház, legföljebb, ha egyik-másik társunk beszélt még – álmában, avagy horkolt szorgalmasan.

Hajnal felé volt a legkeservesebb az éjjeli ügyeletes dolga; hősi küzdelembe került, hogy le ne ragadjon a szeme.

Reggel fél nyolckor lépett szolgálatba Roberts, a szakács és ugyanekkor kelt Armytage vagy Mackay, hogy megetesse a lovakat. Ez a feladat utóbb egészen Armytage-re hárult.

Fél kilenckor mindenkit fölzavartak, a kijelölt napos "megterített," és pontban kilenc órakor hozzáültünk a reggelihez.

TIZENNYOLCADIK FEJEZET.Még mindig a kunyhóban.

A napos kötelességei terhesebbek voltak, mint az éjjeli ügyeletesé. Kezdődött a reggeli asztalterítéssel. Ez a művelet elég egyszerű volt a mi kezdetleges viszonyaink között. Egyszerűen odalökte a kést, villát, kanalat az asztalra, aztán fölékesítette az asztalt háromnégyféle ínycsiklandozó meleg étellel. A napos dolga volt, hogy kiossza a porridge-ot (zabkása) és körülhordja a tejes korsót. Ezek sohasem hiányoztak a

reggeliző asztalról. Következett a napos vezényszava:     – Ide a csészével! (Up bowls!)

Erre mi, kanalunkat megtartva, továbbítottuk a porridge-os csészéinket. Ha "gyümölcsös nap" volt – vagyis amikor a második fogás befőtt gyümölcs volt – ezzel a kedvenc eledelünkkel megtöltve kaptuk vissza csészénket.

Reggeli után a napos dolga volt az edények elmosogatása, a törölgetés, olvasztófazekak megtöltése jéggel, a hamutartó és a hulladékok kihordása a szemetes ládába, majd pedig a szénhordás. Fél tizenegytől háromnegyed egyig szabad volt, akkor azután föltette a teavizet. Ilyenkor csak amúgy állva haraptunk egy-két falatot, ha éppen otthon ért ez a déli óra.

Délután négykor is mindig volt készen forró víz a teához. Negyed hétkor leeresztettük megint az asztalt, és pontban fél hétkor megkezdődött a nap legbőségesebb étkezése: az ebéd, – (Vagy ha úgy tetszik: vacsora). Utána tea. Pipa mellett együtt maradtunk egy óra hosszat. A napos elmosogatott, kisöpörte a kunyhót – immár harmadszor – és ezzel végzett is napi munkájával. Újabb tizenhárom napig nem került rá a sor.

Ismétlésekbe bocsátkoznám, ha el akarnám beszélni viselt dolgainkat, napról-napra, a sötétség beálltával az áldott napfény fölvirradtáig. Kevesen voltunk, nem fogytunk ki a tennivalóból; az unalom – a "sarki éjszaka kísértete" – ugyancsak nem fenyegetett bennünket.

Amikor beszorultunk a kunyhóba és már hokit, futballt nem játszhattunk, esténként némelyek szívesen bridzseztek, dominóztak. Joyce, Wild, Marston és Day sok idejüket áldozták az Aurora Australis-nak: az első könyvnek, amely az Antarktiszon került ki sajtó alól. Ott íródott minden betűje, ott illusztrálták, nyomták és kötötték.*

* A Scott-expedíciók téli újságja, a South Polar Times, gépírásos újság volt, bár gyönyörűen illusztrálva. Nyomtatásban csak később jelent meg. Angliában. Első két kötete a Discovery-expedíción, a harmadik Scott utolsó útján készült.

Egy londoni cég – Cauton & Sons – jóvoltából tökéletes nyomdai fölszerelést vittünk magunkkal, megfelelő papirossal együtt. Joyce és Wild még odahaza megtanulták a szedés és a nyomás mesterségét, Marston a metszést és a litoráfiai munkát. Eleinte nehézkesen ment, de csakhamar tűrhető gyakorlatra tettek szert. Day volt a könyvkötő: Venesta-ládák fájába kötötte be a könyvet, előbb jól megtisztogatva, lesimítva és lecsiszolva. Marston illusztrálta a könyvet; a képeket alumíniumlemezről sokszorosította. Végső formájában a könyv százhúsz lapra terjedt. Mindenesetre egészséges foglalatosság volt a sarki éjszaka egyhangúságában.

Március 13-án szilaj hóvihar kerekedett. A szélrohamok meg-megrázkódtatták védett helyen álló kunyhónkat és mázsás ládákat elmozdítottak a helyükről. Amikor elvonult a vihar, gondunk volt rá, hogy nagyobb biztonságba helyezzük ingóságainkat.

Murray ezen a napon élő mikroszkopikus állatokat fedezett föl valami gombafélén, amely az egyik tó fenekéről származó jégből olvadt ki. A legérdekesebb biológiai fölfedezés, amelyet valaha tettek az Antarktiszon. Ezeknek a parányi lényeknek a tanulmányozása új világot vetett a rendkívüli hidegekben, szélsőséges hőmérsékleti viszonyok közt is megtalálható életföltételekre.

Nekünk hozzá nem értőknek mulatságos volt megfigyelnünk, amint Murray hiába iparkodott elpusztítani az apró állatokat. Hol kiolvasztotta, hol megint befagyasztotta őket, többször egymásután. Mindhiába. A mákszemnyi sugaras állatkák rá se hederítettek. Aztán sósvízbe rakta őket, olyan sűrű oldatba, hogy –20 foknál se fagyott be. Ezt is túlélték. Erre elkezdte melegíteni a vizet. Nagyobb részük még +93 fokos vízben sem pusztult el. Valóságos párviadal indult meg a sugaras állatok és a tudós között. És többnyire a rotiferák kerültek ki győztesen.

Szegény a nyelv és gyönge a toll, hogy elbeszélje a színeknek azt a varázsát, amely elömlött a természeten, amikor a Nap lehanyatlott, hogy hosszú hónapokra elhagyjon bennünket. Még a felhők is szivárványos színeket leheltek. Megragadóan szép az átmenet a félhomályból az éjszakába – kivált ha a növekvő hold reáhinti a tájra bűvös ragyogását. A fehérlő hegyfalak még fennen tündökölnek és a sötét sziklafokok ugyanoly feketén emelik fel fejüket, mint annakelőtte. Ez az éles ellentét a lassan-lassan szétterülő éjszakában elmondhatatanul igézetes.

Április havában alig múlt nap, hogy az Aurora Australis rejtelmes fénytüneménye fel ne lángolt volna. A hőmérséklet jelentékenyen alább szállott: szélcsöndes időben gyakran süllyedt a hőmérő 40 fokra a fagypont alá.

*

Április 6-án Marshall elhatározta, hogy mégis leoperálja Brocklehurst nagy lábaujját; semmi jel nem mutatkozott a gyógyulásra. A beteget elaltatta, lemetszette az ujjat, aztán elszállásolta a beteget az én szobámba. Ott maradt a tél derekáig. Attól fogva vígan járhatott-kelhetett megint.

Áprilisban megértünk még egy négynapos szélvihart. Amikor elvonult a vihar – meglepetéssel láttuk, hogy nyílt víz csillog az öbölben. A szélvész magával sodorta a jeget. Nyugtalanított ez a tapasztalás, és kivántam, bárcsak fagyna be megint az öböl, mert hiszen arra felé visz a mi utunk messze déli célunk felé.

Ekkoriban figyeltük meg olykor újból azt a sajátságos délibábos jelenséget, amelyet Scott "földárnyék"-nak nevezett el. Napkelte tájon a nyugati hegvek felől hatalmas sötét nyilak vetítődnek föl az égre. Ezek a nyilak az óriási Erebusnak a nyugati hegyekeri keresztül vetett árnyékával függenek össze. *

* Mind a két Scott-expedíció megfigyelte ezt a jelenséget. The Voyage of the 'Discovery', II. kötet, 197. l. Színes képmelléklet szemlélteti a különös fénytüneményt. – Scott's Last Expedition, II.

kötet, 291. és 333. lap. Fénykép mutatja be az Erebusnak a felhőkre vetett kúpszerű árnyékát. – Lásd még föntebb David megfigyelését az Erebus megmászásáról szóló fejezetben.

Napjank egyre rohamosabban rövidültek.

Az Antarktiszon való tartózkodásunk ideje alatt mindössze két tengeri leopárdot láttunk. Mind a kettőt megkaparintottuk. Kevéssel a Nap végleges lenyugvása után jelentették, hogy fóka van a téli szállás közelében. A friss húst mindig szívesen vettük, minthogy március vége felé a fókák egyre ritkábbak lettek: találkozásaink rendesen a fóka halálával végződtek. A jelentésre Joyce fogta magát és egyszerű doronggal fölfegyverkezve kiment, hogy leüsse a fókát. Amikor szembekerült az állattal, akkor látta. hogy – tengeri leopárd. Futva jött vissza forgópisztolyáért, mert ezek az állatok vadak és szívesen támadják meg az embert. Csak az ötödik lövésre fordult fel. Állattani gyűjtésünk értékes példánnyal gyarapodott. A másik tengeri leopárdot a tavasz nyíltával láttuk a Barne-fok körül. Ezt is Joyce terítette le. Szegény fiatal állat eltévedt és nem tudott visszajutni a vízbe. A revolvergolyó az éhhaláltól váltotta meg.

Amikor túlhaladtunk a tél derekán (június 21.), és napról-napra érezhetőbbé vált a homály, hozzáfogtam a tavaszi szánutak előkészítéséhez. Kívánatos vot, hogy lehető jókor készletraktárt helyezzünk el a déli sark felé induló csapat útjának a megkönnyítésére. Reméltem, hogy ezt a depót jó 200 kilométer távolságra kitolhatjuk a téli szállásunktól.

Úgyszíntén fontos volt, hogy tájékozódjunk, milyen is a hó felszíne a Jégperemen. Ugyancsak óhajtottam, hooy a csoport tagjai gyakorlatra tegyenek szert a szánutazásban, mielőtt a komoly erőfeszítésre kerül a sor. Tekintettel lovaink kicsiny számára, úgy határoztam, hogy ezeken az előkészítő szánutazásokon magunk vontatjuk a szánjainkat.

Télen át alaposan meghánytam-vetettem a kérdést, hogy mely időpontban is kellene a déli sarki csoportnak útra kelnie. Végső célunk több mint ezernégyszáz kilométerre volt délre tőlünk, és a nyár nagyon is rövid hozzá, hogy ennyi idő alatt oly roppant távolságra nyomulhassunk előre az ismeretlenbe, és vissza is térjünk onnan. A hajónak, amely majd értünk jön, idestova február végén indulnia kell vissza észak felé, hogy be ne fagyjon a zajló jég közé. Minthogy pedig nem számíthattam rá, hogy három hónapi élelemnél sokkal többet vihessünk magunkkal szánjainkon: úgy kellett döntenem, hogy a déli csoport október 28-án induljon a nagy utazásra. Ha korábban indulunk, a lovakat nagyon megviselnék az éjszakai fagyok, s ha a lovak leromlanak, mitsem nyerünk a jókori indulással.

Az elutazás időpontja meg lévén határozva, most már gondoskodnunk kellett róla, hogy kora tavasszal fölállítsuk az élemiszerraktárt. Meg kellett hogy előzze ezt az általános terepszemle, hogy fogalmat alkossunk a jéperemen uralkodó viszonyokról és kitapogassuk, vajon a motoroskocsinak vehetjük-e hasznát legalább utunk első szakaszán.

TIZENKILENCEDIK FEJEZET.A terepszemle.

A Nap még nem bukott fel a láthatár peremére, kemény hidegek jártak, de a Discovery-expedíció tanulságából tudtuk, hogy utazni lehet már a hajnal közeledtét hirdető félhomályban. Ehhez képest már augusztus 12-én útra keltem az első terepszemlére David tanár és Armytage társaságában. Mindkettőre fontos szerep várt a jövőben. David tanárra hárult a feladat, hogy amíg én odajárok a déli sark felé, fölkerekedjék a maga csapatával – az úgynevezett "északi csoporttal" – a déli mágneses sark fölkutatására. Armytage-nek pedig a nyugat felé készülő csoport vezetését kellett majd átvennie.

A déli csoport élelmezésének a kérdését hosszasan és nagy alapossággal meghánytuk-vetettük. Marshall aprólékos gonddal belemélyedt a különféle élelmiszerek táplálóerejénk a vizsgálatába. A korábbi expedíciók tapasztalatai is sok hasznos útbaigazítást nyújtottak.

Végül elhatároztuk, hogy a naponkénti "fejadag"-ot – már ameddig futja az eleségből – a következőképpen állítjuk össze:*

  Gramm

PemikánElőre nem látható eshetőségekreKétszersültSajt vagy csokoládéKakaóPlasmonCukorQuaker OatsTeaSóBors

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Összesen 987

A sót és a borsot apró zacskókban vittük, mindegyikben egy-egy hétre való adag.

Csaknem pontosan ugyanennyi volt a napi fejadag a Discovery-expedíció szánutazásain: Scott csapatában 980, Barne csapatában 1000 gramm.**

A négyünk számára 91 napra magunkkal vitt élelmiszer összes súlya meghaladta a negyedfél métermázsát.

* Az eredeti munkában a súlyok unciákban (ounce) vannak megadva. 1 uncia (Oz.) az angol fontnak (avoirdupois) tizenhatod része, vagyis 28.35 gramm.** Angolok a déli sarkvidéken. 128. lap.

A lovak elesége jóval súlyosabb volt ennél. Egyenkint és naponkint körülbelül 4 1/2 kilogrammot kellett számítanunk.*

*

Október vége felé útra készen álltunk. Mohó várakozással néztünk elébe vállalkozáunknak.

A segítő csoport – Joyce, Marston, Priestley, Armytage és Brocklehurst – tervünk szerint tíz napi távolságra elkísér bennünket.

Október utolsó napjaiban nem kedvezett az időjárás, de mutatkoztak jelek, hogy a nyár közeledőben van. Az utolsó napokban apróra felülvizsgáltuk még a szánokat és a fölszerelést, hogy meggyőződjünk róla, helyén van-e minden. Esténként pedig leveleket iítunk búcsuleveleket a mieinkhez, arra az esetre, ha nem térnénk vissza többet abból az ismeretlen világból, amelybe behatolni készültünk.

HUSZONEGYEDIK FEJEZET.Útrakelés a déli sark felé.

Felhőtlen ág, ragyogó napsütés kedvezett útrakelésünknek az emberláb nem tapodta messze célpont felé, ahol az angol királyné kezéből átvett lobogót készültünk kitűzni, ha a sors is úgy akarja. Mégis, amikor búcsút vettünk a kunyhótól, ahol annyi hónapot töltöttünk együtt társainkkal kényelemben: a sajnálkozás borús érzete ragadott meg, hogy talán sohse látjuk többet egymást.

A segítőcsoport indult elsőnek. Mi négyen – a délisarki csoport – délelőtt tíz órakor vettünk búcsut Murraytől és Robertstől, akik jó időre magukra maradnak a téli szálláson.

* A fölszerelés, ruházat, műszerek, gyógyszerek stb. részletes fölsorolása megtalálható az eredeti munkában: The Heart of the Antarctic, I. kötet, 252–255. lap.

Alig voltunk úton egy óra hosszat, amikor bajok kezdtek környékezni. Legelőbb is megsántult az egyik lovunk – Socks – és kevésre rá, hogy megálltunk etetni, a Grisi ló kirúgott a hámból, és Adamst megrúgta a térde alatt.

Ha tenyérnyivel följebb éri a rúgás, összezúzza a térdkalácsát és vele együtt a reménységet, hogy valaha eléri a déli sarkot. Még így is majd hogy ki nem ugrott a helyéből a lábszárcsontja. Nagy fájdalmai voltak, bár nem beszélt is róla. El sem tudom képzelni, mit művel, ha teljesen ki kell válnia az expedícióból, amely iránt nagy érdeklődéssel viseltetett.

Október 30-án elértük a Hut Pointot (Kunyhó-fokot). Adams lába jobban lett, a lovak is kiheverték sántaságukat, – nagyszerű idő járt, gyönyörűséggel töltött el, hogy kinn vagyunk végre a nagy országúton.

Quan volt a legrosszabb "erkölcsű" négy lovunk közül. Hiába vigyáztuk, folyton harapdálta a kötelét. Egy ízben nem vettük észre, amint elrágta a pányvát és nagy pusztítást vitt végbe a kukoricában és más takarmányban. Amikor el akartuk csípni, egyik szántól a másikhoz rohant, darabokra szaggatta a zsákokat, kiszórta a tartalmukat, nagyokat rúgott a két hátsó lábával, mutatva, hogy ugyancsak elemében van. Látszott, hogy torkig zabálta magát és ficánkoló kedvében van.

November 3-án elhagytuk a tenger jegét. A barrieren – amelyet mostantól fogva inkább jégperemnek fogok nevezni – még rosszabb térszínre jutottunk. A lovak nagyszerűen viselték magukat. A lóhajcsárok óránkint fölváltották a vontatókat. Másnaptól fogva hószemüveget viseltünk a kínzó fény ellen. A White-szigeten túlkerülve lágyabb lett a hó, és ugyancsak megerőltető volt a haladás. A segítőcsoport derekasan kitartott; estig kerek 20 kilométeres utat gyűrtünk le.

Mindezidáig szép idő kedvezett utunknak. Guy Fawkes napján azonban (november 5-én) hóförgeteg ért utol, amely roppantul megnehezítette a tájékozódást. A félhomályban nem vettük észre a szélvájta barázdákat. A lovak is, mi is, megszenvedtük a térszín nehézségeit. Ilyen viszonyok közt persze nem csoda, hogy egyre-másra ismétlődtek az apró balesetek. Marshall beleszakadt egy repedésbe, majd csakhamar ,Wildot és Adamst érte utol ugyanez a sors. Amikor Marshall lába alól másodszor is kisiklott a talaj, jobbnak láttuk tanyát ütni és bevárni, amíg kiderül az ég.

Szomorúságunkra másnap egész nap hálózsákjainkban kellett heverésznünk; éppen csak a lovak etetése kedvéért másztunk ki vackunkból. Sűrű hóvihar kerekedett. Aki nem járt a sarkvidéken, el sem tudja képzelni, milyen keserves érzés, mikor a hóförgeteg helyhez láncolja az embert. Minden elvesztegetett nap egymagában a takarmányban 18 kilogramm hiábavaló veszteséget jelent. Igyekeztünk jó képet vágni a dologhoz; helyzetünket elviselhetőbbé tette, hogy külön-külön hálózsákjainkban annyiramennyire mindegyikünknek meg volt a maga független "otthona" – írhatott, olvashatott az ember.

A reggeli órákat a Sok hűhó semmiért * olvasásával ütöttem el – bizonyára nem időszerű olvasmány, amikor az embernek minden oka megvan, hogy bosszankodjék a kényszerű késedelem miatt.

Könnyebben viseltük volna a bajt, ha csak magunkról van szó. A magunk bőrére még csak takarékoskodhattunk az ennivalóval, de a lovaktól nem vonhattuk el az előírt napi eleséget, ha ki akartuk venni a zsírjukat.

7-én megjavult az idő, jóllehet még mindig borult volt és kavargott a hó. Ezen a napon a segítőcsoport visszafordult a téli szállás felé; társaink éljenzése közben indultunk neki – immár magunkban – hosszú utunknak. A lovak pompásan belefeküdtek hámjaikba, de alig hogy utnak eredtünk, a hasadékok egész szövevényébe keveredtünk. Az első,

amelyiken Marshall átsiklott, Grisi lovával, olyan széles volt, hogy kiterjesztett karral át sem érte volna az ember. Belenéztem a tátongó szakadékba. Feneketlen, borzongató üreg sötétlett szemem előtt.

* Shakespeare vígjátéka: Much ado about nothing.

Amerre csak néztünk, mindenütt hasadékok. Két nagy hasadék közt tanyát kellett ütnünk, hogy megvárjuk, amíg a világosság megerősödik. Nem kacérkodhattunk a biztos veszedelemmel.

Most már teljesen magunkra voltunk utalva. Kényelem dolgában ez kedvező volt, mert csak kettesével voltunk egy-egy sátorban. Eleinte Adams volt a társam a sátorban, utóbb elhatároztuk, hogy időről-időre fölcseréljük helyeinket.

Olvasnivalóban nem volt hiány. Mindegyikünknek volt egy-egy könyvünk. Én Shakespeare vígjátékait vittem magammal, Marshall Borrow-nak The Bible in Spain (A biblia Spanyolországban) című könyvét; Adams Arthur Young munkáját: Travels in France (Utazás Franciaországban); Wild pedig Dickens "Karcolatait" (Sketches). Olvasmányainkat cserélgetve nem fogytunk ki az olvasnivalóból a veszteglések napjaiban.

De semmiféle olvasmány nem tarthatott vissza, hogy ne szidjuk a makacs rossz időt, amely november 9-ének reggeléig hálózsákjainkba szorított. Komor homályban legyőzhetetlen nehézségekkel jár a vándorlás a jég és hó birodalmában.

Ha felhő vonja be az eget vagy sűrű köd terjeng, az árnyéktalan halotti fehér sivatag megcsalja a szemet. Az ember sima síkot lát maga körül, és egyszerre derékig belezuhan valami mélyedésbe. A szemekre is nagyon megerőltető az ilyen menetelés.

Bármily különös, úgy van mégis, hogy amikor a napot felhő borítja, és "sűrű" idő jár: a hóvakság veszélyében forog az ember. Ezzel a kínzó bajjal ugyan csak alaposan módunkban volt megismerkedni déli utunkon.

Egyetlen mód a védekezésre, ha szemüveget viselünk egész idő alatt. De mikor a szánokkal való bajlódás folytán fokozottan szedi az ember a lélegzetet, a szemüveget belepi a lehelet, s le kell venni, hogy megtörölgessük. Ilyenkor aztán a fehér hómező vakító fénye olyan kápráztató, hogy be kell menekülni a sátorba. A sátor zöldes színe jólesőn pihenteti a szemet.

8-án este kitisztult az idő. Ekkor láttuk, hogy körös-körül szakadékok és repedések környeznek. Marshall és Wild sátra pontosan egy mélység szélén állott, amelyet addig észre se vettünk.

Lovaink védetlenül álltak a négy nap, négy éjjel tartó szakadatlan hóviharban; a kemény hideg megviselte őket. Volt okunk örvendeni, hogy a vihar lecsendesedése után mohó étvággyal fogyasztották a meleg eleséget, amellyel megkínáltuk őket. Még sem

ártott hát meg nekik a kegyetlen időjárás, amelyet a szabadban szenvedtek át. De sietnünk kellett tovább és csak akkor éreztük magunkat igazán boldogoknak, amikor újra jó darab utat magunk mögött tudtunk.

Téli szállásunkat a déli sarktól madártávlatban csaknem pontosan 1400 kilométer választja el. Ebből a távolságból idáig százat se gyűrtünk még le. Mi tagadás, a sarki utazónak jó adag türelemmel kell fölfegyverkeznie, és miközben hálózsákjainkban hevertünk mozdulatlanul, ahelyett, hogy haladnánk célunk felé, bizony jócskán megfogyatkozott ez a mi készletünk – a türelemből.

HUSZONKETTEDIK FEJEZET.Még megvan mind a négy lovunk.

November 9-ének reggele derült, csöndes és tiszta idővel köszöntött be. Szánjainkat kiástuk a hóból, megreggeliztünk és hozzáláttunk, hogy utat keressünk a hasadékokon keresztül. Keskeny repedésektől egészen a legfélelmetesebb feneketlen mélységekig mindenfajta szakadék került utunkba – lehetetlen volt rajtuk keresztül átjárót keresgélnünk.

Nem volt mit tennünk, mint rábízni magunkat a Gondviselésre. Az első repedéseken szerencsésen átjutottunk. Egyszerre csak Chinaman lovunk lába alatt berogyott a hó, és belezuhant egy gonosz hasadékba, amely párhuzamosan haladt útvonalunkkal.

Adams megpróbálta kirántani; a ló küzködött is hősiesen, mindhiába. Wild és én otthagytuk a szánunkat, – odarohantunk a vergődő ló szánjához – éppen idejében, hogy szilárd jégre mentsük. Még egy lépés és örökre búcsut vehetünk a – déli sarki expedíciótól. A jó lépés szélességű hasadék öblös, feneketlen mélységben folytatódott, és ha abba egyszer belekeveredik szegény lovunk, soha viszont nem látjuk többet. Főzőfölszerelésünk, kétszersültünk és az olajunk fele, de alighanem Adams maga is eltűnik vele örökre.

De gyakori jelenség, hogy akkor fordulnak jobbra a dolgok, amikor már merőben reménytelennek 1átszik a helyzet. Így volt a mi esetünkben is. Jó időre ez volt az utolsó hasadék utunk folyamán. A térszín meg javult és végre tovább haladhattunk.

A nap folyamán újabb 26 kilométerrel közelítettük meg célunkat, és estére sokkal vidámabb kedvben tértünk nyugvóra. Éjszakai nyugvásunkat azonban megzavarta az a haszontalan Quan; elrágta a takarójának a hevederét, és Grisivel meg Socksszal összeveszett rajta. A mandzsúriai lónak nyilvánvaló hátránya az a rossz tulajdonsága, hogy mindenfélét elrág, amihez csak hozzáfér.

Bármily jelentéktelennek tűnnek is fel az ilyen kis események, a folytonos javítanivaló sok munkát rótt ránk, s ha az ember elfáradt a naphosszat való menetelésben, bizonyára nem örül a váratlan munkának.

Délutáni utunk közben csodálkozásunkra egy Adélie-pingvin lábnyomaira bukkantunk. Hogy honnan került ide az a madár – rejtély. Jó száz kilométert kellett "szánkáznia" idáig – a legközelebbi part, ahol táplálékra találhatott, legalább ennyire lehetett. Pingvintársai közt ez a madár bizonyosan kalandos természet hírében áll.

A következő napokon javult az idő, jókora darabra megközelíthettük azt az élelmiszer-állomásunkat, ahol 75 kilogramm eleséget raktároztunk volt el. Növekvő étvágyunkkal nem is állott arányban az az ennivaló-mennyiség, amit ott majd megengedhetünk magunknak. Akik nem ismerik még, mit jelent a kétségbeejtő éhség, hihetőleg irtózva gondolnak rá, hogy mi nem riadtunk vissza később, hogy – amikor lovaink már "megtették kötelességüket" – ételadagainkat lóhússal toldjuk meg. Nyugodt lélekkel mondhatom el azonban, hogy mindaddig, amíg lovaink kivégzésére nem kerítettük a sort, olyan bőkezűséggel bántunk velük, amit magunktól kereken megtagadtunk.

Rátalálni egy ilyen élelmiszeres depóra – erre a parányi foltra – a végtelen hósivatagban, száz kilométernél nagyobb távolságra a legközelebbi szárazföldtől: olyanforma feladat, mint meglelni egy bóját valahol messze bent az Északi-tengerben, ahol a parti hegyek halvány körvonalai belevesznek a messzeségbe. Türelmetlen voltam, hogy elérjük a depót, mielőtt megfordul a ragyogó időjárás.

Képzelhető az örömünk, amikor 14-én este Wild, sátrunk mellől kémlelve a határt Goertz-féle messzelátójával, elkiáltotta magát, hogy megvan a depó! Egyszeriben kirohantunk a sátorból és ott láttuk mi is világosan a lengő lobogót és a szánt a látcsövön keresztül. Másnap reggel mindent érintetlenül találtunk; a lobogó vidáman ropogott a szélben. Néhány órát töltöttünk, hogy elosszuk és kimérjük a visszatérő útra otthagyott élelmiszereket.

Szinte szívbeli fájdalommal váltunk meg egy doboz szardíniánktól és egy üveg fekete áfonyaíztől, amit karácsonyi lakománkra tartogattunk – de minden gramm fölös súly "fontos" volt a mi helyzetünkben, s bár tudtuk jól, hogy annyi tápanyagot kell vinnünk magunkkal, amennyit csak lehetséges, ezekről a fényűző dolgokról le kellett mondanunk.

Déli egy óra után csakhamar úton voltunk megint. Esti táborhelyünkön kőfalat emeltünk tájékozásul visszatérő utunkra. Elhatároztuk, hogy minden tanyahelyet hasonló módon meg fogunk jelölni. Két lapáttal tíz perc alatt embermagasságnál nagyobb hófalat raktunk. Nem hanyagolhattunk el semmiféle elővigyázatosságot, habár nem tudhattuk, mi lesz tartósabb: a fal-e, avagy szánjaink nyoma. A tapasztalat megmutatta, hogy a hófalak megmaradtak, amikor nyomainkat rég elsöpörte az idő, és ezek a tájjelzők igen nagy könnyebbségünkre voltak a hazatérő útban.

Minden ment, mint a karikacsapás; váltig csodáltuk az ellentétet a mi szép napi átlagaink és a hat évvel azelőtti lassú előnyomulásunk között ugyanezen a tájékon.

November 16-án például 32 kilométernyi rekordtávolságot jártunk meg. Mindannyian kitűnő egészségben voltunk, a szememet se kínozta már a hóvakság – csak éppen hogy

kicserepesedett ajkunkkal nem nevethettünk kedvünkre, pedig minden okunk megvolt a vidámságra. Szinte nyeltük a kilométereket.

Másik ilyen felötlő ellentét volt az, amely a mi végsőkig menő takrékosságunk és Quan lovunk pocsékolása között mutatkozott az élelmiszerekkel való gazdálkodásban. Mi naponta három szem cukrot lecsíptünk a napi adagunkból, hogy ilyen módon lassankint szert tegyünk egy kis tartalékra – Quan meg csodálatosképpen jónak látta ugyanekkor a maga kötőfékje helyett megenni másfél karhosszúságú kátrányozott kötelet, a takarmányát pedig merő akaratosságból szétszórta a havon.

Ekkortájban kezdtünk gondolkodni a lovak sorsáról, különösen Chinamanről, de mind a négy remekül viselte magát, már ami a húzást illeti. Természetesen rajta voltunk, hogy élelmiszerkészeteinket mentől messzebb szállítsuk délnek, mielőtt kidőlnének.

Quan rendületenül taposta a jeget; bizonyára naphosszat azon jártatta az eszét, miféle csalafintaságot követhetne el megint az éjjel. De ezenközben nagyszerűen belefeküdt a hámba. Chinaman-en mutatkoztak legelőbb az összeroskadás tünetei, de habár ereje hanyatlott, buzgalma mindvégig a régi maradt. Grisi és Socks gyors iramban "vette" a lágy hó borította helyeket.

Bármily keservesen megdolgoztak is lovaink nappalonkint, megvolt az a biztos megnyugtató érzésünk, hogy éjszakai pihenőjüket annál jobban kiélvezik. Egy ízben rajtakaptuk Socksot, hogy éjjel azzal szórakozik, hogy Quannak a farkába ragad, és egész csomóstul tépi ki a szőrt belőle. Ha csak gyaníthattuk volna is, hogy ilyesféle sport eszébe juthat, hosszabb sodronyra pányvázzuk ki őket és elkülönítjük egymástól.

HUSZONHARMADIK FEJEZET.Túl minden emberi lábnyomon.

November 18-án úgy képzeltem, elértük a sarki szélcsönd övét: a Jégperem halotti sima fehér sivatag ként terült el. Kimondhatatlanul elbűvölő kép – sehol semmi nyoma szárazföldnek: elenyésző pontoknak éreztük magunkat a nyomasztó végtelenség közepette. Mintha nem is ezen a világon járnánk... és ugyanakkor olyan semmiségek foglalkoztattak, hogy az ajkunk kicserepesedett és hogy – a gyomrunk korog.

A déli étkezések máris túlontúl rövidre zsugorodtak, és kezdtük forgatni a fejünkben, mi lesz, ha majd múgy istenigazában éhesek leszünk. Mindamellett megjártunk naponta 28 kilométert, és esténkint meg volt az az elégtételünk, hogy nagy lépéssel közelebb jutottunk megint célunkhoz.

Hamarosan fölfedeztem, tévedés volt azt hinni, hogy elértük a szélcsönd területét. A szélvájta mélyedések mind déli irányban futottak. A bennünket környező táj és viszonyok annyira elütöttek mindattól, amit idáig tapasztaltunk bárhol a világon, hogy bajos volt megjósolni, mit hoz a legközelebbi pillanat.

Coleridge Ancient Mariner-je jutott eszembe:

"Alone, alone; all, all alone, alone on a wide, wide sea ..."

*

Amikor azután csöndben fölszakadoztak a gomolygó fellegek, és jóllehet szél sem lengedezett, gyorsan tovaúsztak fejünk fölött: a titokzatosság rejtelmes érzése borzongatott.

Minthacsak valóban a világ végén járnánk, és betörni készülnénk a felhők szülőhelyére és a szelek titkos szentélyébe: nem nyomhattuk el azt a sejtelmün ket, hogy a természet erői féltékeny szemmel figyelnek minket, halandókat!

* "Egyedül, egyedül; egyesegyedül, – egyedül a messze, messze tengeren.

És mégis, e fölemelő élmény közepette, amit mindenki átél, aki behatol a világ elhagyatott rejtekhelyeire: mindennél jobban foglalkoztatott a küzdelmes előrejutás a nehezen járható térszínen. A hó felszíne – ettől függött mindennapos erőfeszítésünk, küzdelmünk és sikerünk.

November 20.án félelmetesen lágy hóra jutottunk. Olyan gonoszul tapadó volt, hogy – megkondult szegény öreg Chinaman lélekharangja. Nem bírt többé lépést tartani a többiekkel. Másnap lelőttük.

Hadd mondjam el ismét, hogy a lovak megölése fájdalmas feladat volt – egyedüli megnyugvást abban találtunk, hogy a végsőkig jól tápláltuk őket, és hogy nem szenvedtek. Amikor egy-egy lovunk kivégzésére került a sor, hófalat emeltünk a tanya szélmentes oldalán, és emögé vittük félre az állatot, hogy a többiek ne lássák.

A szükség rákényszeritett, hogy megegyük a húsukat. A leölt állatok teteme csakhamar kőkeményre fagyott – igyekeznünk kellett, hogy azon melegiben apró darabokra vagdossuk széjjel.

Chinaman kimúlása napján fölállítottuk második depónkat, s otthagytunk 36 kilogramm lóhúst, egy doboz (12 kg) kétszersültet, egy kis cukrot és egy kanna olajat. Ennek a készletnek a segítségével kellett majd visszajövet eljutnunk innen az A depóhoz.

Három lovunk maradt. Mindegyik 225 kilogramm terhet vontatott, amikor elhagytuk a B depót, fekete lobogójával, amelyet egy kiérdemesült szánhoz szíjazott bambuszrúdon lengetett a szél. Szemünk előtt messze délen csakhamar új föld tünedezett fől – föld, amelyet soha sem látott még emberi szem.

Hatalmas hófödte magaslatok bukkantak föl túl a Longstaff-hegyen és a szárazföld belseje felé is, a Markham-hegytől északra. Túl jártunk már a déli szélesség 81. fokán (81°8').

Az időjárás továbbra is kedvezett utunknak. Délről hűvös szél lengedezett, a nap könnyű fellegek mögé rejtőzött. A soha nem látott hegyormok dicső látványának

örömét két dolog homályosította el: Wild rosszulléte és Adams gyötrő fogfájása. Megpróbáltuk kihúzni a fogat. Az első kísérletbe a fog beletörött. Másodszorra Marshallnak sikerült kirántani a fájó fogat – olyan eredmény, amely, a mi helyzetünkben, épp oly dicsőségére vált az orvosnak, mint amily megváltás volt a betegének.

Fürgén haladtunk. November 26-án emlékezetes napra ébredtünk. Ezen a napon haladtuk meg a legdélibb pontot, amelyet mielőttünk taposott emberi láb. Esti tanyákat a 82°18' déli szélességen ütöttük föl. Legvégső déi pontunk, ameddig Scott kapitánnyal eljutottunk a Discovery-expedíción: 82°16' volt.*

Óráról órára új és új izgalommal kémleltük a nyugaton emelkedő hegyvidéket. Föltárult előttünk a Shackleton Inlet, és mélyen benn az öböl mélyén hatalmas hegylánc meredt a magasba, messze nyugat felé újabb és újabb csúcsok emelkedtek. A Wilson-foktól nyugatra 3000 méteres hegyek jelentek meg, dél-délkeletre egyik új hegycsúcs a másik után tűnt föl szemünk előtt. Kevés embernek jut osztályrészül, hogy olyan földet láthasson, amelyen őelőtte nem nyugodott emberi szem: mohó kíváncsisággal és bizonyos hódolat érzésével figyeltük az új hegység fölbukkanását az előttünk elterülő nagy Ismeretlenből. És a folytonos várakozásnak ebbe az izgalmába belevegyült a lázas reménykedés, hogy a mi ösvényünket semmiféle hegylánc nem fogja elvágni előlünk.

Senki közülünk nem sejdíthette, miféle csodák tárulhatnak föl előttünk délnek vivő utunkban: képzeletünk szabadon szárnyalt – amíg csak föl nem hemperedtünk a hóban, vagy az éhség éles sajgása vissza nem térítette elkalandozó figyelmünket a közvetlen jelen szükségleteire.

* Scott: The Voyage of the ,Discovery'. Magyarul: Angolok a déli sarkvidéken.

Azért persze semmi sem kerekedhetett fölül türelmetlen mohóságunkon, hogy megtudjuk, mi van előttünk. A jégperemen való vándorlásunk hosszu heteiben az egyhangúságtól megmentett bennünket a délkelet felől föl-fölbukkanó föld tájképi változatossága. Ahogy tovább és tovább nyomultunk délnek, a hegyek lánca mindinkább elhajlott kelet felé. Ez a fölfedezés közelről érintett, mert félő volt, hogy a hegyek eltérítenek csaknem egyenesen délnek csapó útirányunktól. Reméltük mégis, hogy, ha majd elérjük a hegyeket, találunk valami járható hegyszorost, amelyen átkaptatva "torony iránt" folytathatjuk utunkat. A türelem mindenesetre üdvösebbnek ígérkezett a töprengésnél: bármi megpróbáltatás várjon is reánk, el voltunk rá tökélve, hogy kitartunk, amíg csak erőnk összeroppanása visszatérésre nem kényszerít.

November 28-án aggasztóan rossz térszínre jutottunk. Szegény Grisi lovunkat, amelyet a hóvakság egészen tönkresilányitott, le kellett lőnünk ezen az estén. Itt állítottuk föl C depónkat. Egy hétre való eleséget és megfelelő olajat hagytunk hátra itt, hogy ezzel visszajövet elvergődjünk a B depóig.

Másnap 540 kilogrammnyi szánrakománnyal terhelve folytattuk utunkat. Elhatároztuk, hogy lovaink mellé befogjuk magunkat is. Hamarosan rájöttünk azonban, hogy ha mi

húzunk, a lovak abbahagyják a vontatást. Így hát csak megint leakasztottuk a derekunkról a hevedert.

Az egész környéket át meg átszőtték a hegyláncolatok; a hó felszíne, amerre utunk vezetett, olyan puha volt, hogy a lovak hasig süppedeztek, és csak egyesült erőmegfeszítéssel tudtuk olykor megmozdítani szánjainkat.

Estére a lovak végleg kidőltek, kiváltképpen az öreg Quan. Nem is annyira a szán súlya, mint inkább a süppedő hó örökös tiprása merítette ki. A rákövetkező két nap valósággal magunk vontattuk a szánt őhelyette.

December elsején ütött az ő utolsó órája is. Szomorúsággal váltunk meg tőle mindannyian, de nekem fájt legjobban az elvesztése, mert – az én lovam volt. Mindnyájunk kedvence volt az öreg Quan. Megszerettük rendkívüli eszességéért, amelyet borzasztó csínyjei sem feledtettek.

HUSZONNEGYEDIK FEJEZET. A déli sark "országútján."

December elsején este túl jártunk a 83. szélességi fokon (83°16'). Kelet felé messze terjedő föld vonult; homlokfala óriási fehérlő sáncként veszett bele a messzeségbe. Úgy tűnt fel nekünk, mintha valami hatalmas fordulat előtt állanánk, amely arányos a bennünket környező táj végtelen méreteivel.

Egyik pillanatban a tájkép nagyszerűsége bilincselte le gondolatainkat, a rákövetkező pillanatban megint azon jártattuk eszünket, mit ennénk, ha most hirtelen szabadjára eresztenének valami kitűnő étteremben. Nagyon, de nagyon éhesek voltunk ezekben a napokban. Főként lóhúson éltünk. Menet közben, hogy hűsítsük a forró napban kiszáradt torkunkat – fagyott húst szopogattunk.

Most, hogy már csak egy lovunk volt, az egyik szánt magunk vontattuk, mind a négyen belekapaszkodva. A másik szánnal Socks a nyomunkban járt. Hamarosan alkalmazkodott a mi tempónkhoz és kitűnően tartotta magát. Mindössze ing és pizsama volt rajtunk, mégis csak úgy omlott rólunk a verejték a fejünkre tűző napsütésben – és ugyanakkor lábunk majd megfagyott a hóban. Keserves munka volt taposni a porhanyó havat. Délután elég közel jutottunk, hogy fölismerjük az előttünk messze keletnek elnyúló hatalmas jégtorlódások szakadékos sorait. A legkisebb reményünk se lehetett rá, hogy tovább is a Jégperemen (Barrier) maradhassunk, ha déli irányt akarunk tartani. Nekivágtunk tehát a szárazföldnek, egyenesen délnek, és estére a partot szegélyző torlaszok sorainak közvetlen közelében ütöttük föl tanyánkat.

Elhatároztuk, hogy reggel megmásszuk az előttünk emelkedő, csaknem ezer méter magasságu vöröses hegyet, és annak a tetejéről vesszük szemügyre a környéket. Nyugtalanító órák voltak ezek – most dőlt el, találunk-e járható utat a hegyeken keresztül. Ha nem: magas hegyvidék jóformán áthághatatlan gátat vet elibénk. Az idő és a napról-napra fogyó eleség szorongatott.

Reggeli után (december 3-án) csakugyan útra keltünk. Minden táborberendezésünket ott hagytuk a tanyán, gondoskodva róla, hogy egyetlen lovunknak legyen mit ennie estig, amíg visszajövünk. Ebédre négy-négy darab kétszersültet, ugyanannyi cukrot és vagy 60 gramm csokoládét vittünk csak magunkkal. Vizet – úgy reméltük – találunk majd a sziklák között, mihelyt partot érünk.

Alig jutottunk száz lépésre, szakadékhoz értünk. Hószemüvegemen át nem láttam tisztán, levettem a szememről, mire rögtön belenyilallt a szemembe a hóvakság a kápráztató fényben.

Szerencsésen túlkerültünk még néhány hasadékon, amikor egy harminc lépés széles óriási szakadék állta utunkat. A szakadék, amelynek mélysége megközelítette a száz métert, keresztezte irányunkat. Jobbról kerülve azt tapasztaltuk, hogy arrafelé mind jobban belepte a hó a szakadékot. Így azután sikerült átjutni a túlsó partjára és folytatni utunkat a szárazföld felé, amely csalóka módon egészen közelnek tetszett, pedig még mindig kilométerek választottak el tőle.

További hasadékokat átszelve, déltájban – már a szárazföldön – sima kék jégre jutottunk, amelyből pompás ivóvízre tettünk szert. Ezer lépéssel odább elértük végre a hegynek a lábát, amelynek a tetejéről akartunk körültekinteni. Néhány falat kétszersültet haraptunk "villásreggelire", aztán nekivágtunk a meredek sziklabércnek.

Ez volt az egész hegymászás legnehezebb szakasza. A hegy szétmállott gránitja össze-vissza volt hasogatva. Üggyel-bajjal följutottunk egy magaslatra, egyenesen délnek! Két hatalmas hegylánc között észak-déli irányú tekintélyes jégár húzódott.

Mohón kapaszkodtunk tovább, föl a hegytetőre, ahonnan a földség belsejében, a magashegységi jégtakaróban elvesző jégár egész óriási testén végigtekinthettünk. Ez a megragadó látvány szárnyakat adott fantáziánknak.

Nem volt kérdéses többé, melyik utat válasszuk; mert habár, úgy lehet, rianások és más akadályok megnehezítik is utunkat a jégáron, bizonyos, hogy a jégperemen úgysem juthatnánk tovább a 86. szélességi foknál, és akkor mégis csak befelé kellene vennünk utunkat a hegyeken keresztül, hogy elérjük a sarkot.

A jégáron át vivő út fő nehézségét abban láttuk, hogy Socks nem tud majd megbirkózni a küzdemes hegymászással. Mi magunk meg nem holdogulunk terhünkkel, hacsak nem részletekben szállítjuk fölfelé.

December 4-én újból útra kelve az előző esti tanyáról, vesződséges erőfeszítéssel vontattuk szánunkat; Socks könnyűszerrel vitte a maga terhét. Így értük el a hágó tetejét, mintegy hatszáz méterre a tenger színe fölött.

Ettől a ponttól fogva enyhe lejtőn ereszkedtünk le a jégár felé, és esti tanyánkat gránitszirtek közá ágyazódó kék jég közelében ütöttük föl, amelyek körül víztükrök csillogtak. Ez az utóbbi szerencsés véletlen csekélységnek tűnhetik föl, pedig megvolt a

maga fontossága: olajat takarítottunk meg vele, hogy nem kel lett sem havat, sem jeget olvasztanunk.

A hágó tetején, amelyen át utunk vezetett, hatalmas gránitoszlopok állanak őrt. A "déli sark országútjának" a kapuja föltárult előttünk.

HUSZONÖTÖDIK FEJEZET.A délsarki jégáron.

December 5-én reggel nyolc órakor szedtük sátorfánkat és elindultunk délnek, lefelé egy jeges lejtőn, a főgleccser irányában. A jeges lejtő mihamar hólejtővé változott, majd megint kék jég következett, amely annyira össze-vissza volt szabdalva repedésekkel és hasadékokkal, hogy lehetetlen volt lovunkkal az utat tovább erőltetnünk, ha nem akartuk kockáztatni, hogy belezuhanjon valami feneketlen szakadékba.

A hóvakság is gyötört. Jobbnak láttam delelő állomásunkon végleg tanyát ütni éjszakára. Marshall és Adams délután kimentek kémszemlére, utat keresni. Azzal jöttek vissza, hogy a lejtő az eddiginél is hasadozottabb kék jégben folytatódik. És még egy érdekes élményről számoltak be, amely jóval meglepőbb volt: madár szállt el a fejük fölött. Barnatestű madár, – szárnyán, alul fehér csík. Délnek repült.

Különös, váratlan megfigyelés, ilyen messze déli szélességen (83°40'). Miféle madár lehetett, nem tudom elgondolni. Marshall és Adams erősködtek, hogy nem sirály volt (skua gull), pedig ez az egyetlen madár, amelyről el tudnám képzelni, hogy idáig merészkedik. Kidőlt lovunk teteme csábíthatta. A Discovery-expedíción tapasztaltuk, hogy amikor a 80 1/2 fok déli szélességen leöltük egy kutyánkat, hamarosan ott termett a sirály.*

Éjszakai tanyánkat egy csodálatos gránitszirt aljában ütöttük föl. Mogyorónyi daraboktól harminc tonnás és még nagyobb sziklákig, szanaszéjjel hevertek a gránitgörgetegek körülöttünk. Éreztük, hogy bármely pillanatban legördülhet ránk nagy robajjal valami hatalmas kőlavina. Az egyik havas lejtőn észre is vettük friss lavina nyomát. Mégis csak kénytelenek voltunk ezen a helyen táborozni; a kék jén lehetetlen volt sátrat feszíteni, annyi erőnk meg már nem volt, hogy a meghasogatott jégen keresztül tovább küzdjük magunkat az ezer lépéssel odább mutatkozó havas lejtőig.

Másnap szétosztottuk a terhet és nagy küzdelemmel áthordtuk erre a helyre. Háromszor fordultunk érte. Keserves munka volt; éreztük, hogy csak egy ballépés, és sarki utazásunk minden pillanatban örökre befejeződhet. Szerencsésen túlkerülve a különösképpen veszedelmes jégen, társaim visszamentek Socks-ért. Engem pihenni hagytak, mert idáig is alig bírtam a küzdelmet a hóvakság miatt bekötött fél szememmel. Kora délután együtt voltunk újra valamennyien a havas lejtőn, és csakhamar folytattuk utunkat. Csodálatos kilátás nyílt az egyre-másra fölbukkanó, soha nem látott hegyormokra és hegykoszorúkra. De roppant fáradságosan, lassan vonszoltuk előre magunkat.

Aki be akar hatolni a világ járatlan vadonaiba, hozzá kell edzenie magát a szívós munkához és örömét kell lelnie olyan dolgokban, amik magukban véve bizony legfeljebb viszonylag fölvidítók. Így például másnap (7-én) délután javában örvendeztünk rajta, hogy ha mégoly össze-vissza hasogatott térszínen járunk is, a világítás kedvezőbb, mint a reggel, amikor egyszerre segélykiáltás ütötte meg fülünket. Wild hangja volt, aki nyomunkban járt egyetlen lovunkkal.

Vágtatvást rohantunk vissza segítségére; a szán, orrával lefelé fordulva, belebukott egy hasadékba. Wild a szánon lógott, csak az orra látszott ki a mélységből. Socks-nak nyoma sincs sehol. Wild csodák csodájára menekült kényes helyzetéből, de a ló odaveszett. Az eset így történt: Wild a mi nyomunkat követte egy hóval áthidalt láthatatlan szakadékon keresztül; a ló lába alatt beszakadt a hóhíd, és egy szempillantás alatt mindennek vége volt. Wild elbeszélte, hogy a kötél szára egyszerre kisiklott a kezéből – mintha csak szélroham szakította volna ki – önkéntelenül szétterjesztette karjait, és éppen csak hogy megkapaszkodhatott a szakadék túlsó szélébe. Még szerencse, hogy a mélységbe zuhant lovunk súlya alatt eltörött a szán elülső keresztrúdja, – máskülönben az egész szánt Wilddal együtt menthetetlenül magával rántja.

* Angolok a déli sarkvidéken.

Lehasaltunk a szakadék szélére, belenéztünk a mélységbe – semmi nesz, semmi jel. Feneketlen fekete üreg örvénylett alattunk.

Szegény Socks-ot nem láttuk többet – de ha valaha embernek volt oka hálára, mi hálásak lehettünk Wild csodás megmeneküléseért és a szán megmentéséért. Ha a szánt elveszítjük, két hálózsákunk marad négyünknek. Ilyen megfogyatkozott fölszereléssel még a téli szállásra is aligha vergődhettünk volna vissza. Socks elvesztése magában is súlyosan esett latba. Igaz, hogy már nem soká húzhatta volna; sorsát el nem kerülheti. De számítottunk a húsára, és most nem maradt más nekünk, mint a kukorica, amit meghagyott szegény a gazdáinak.

Egymást érték a hasadékok és a gleccsermalmok; jégcsákányunk lépten-nyomon átszaladt a hóhidakon, ahol csak kipróbáltuk. Ilyen körülmények közt nem érezhettük magunkat biztonságban még éjszakára se.

Visszafordultunk néhány száz lépésnyire, hogy ott üssük föl tanyánkat.

Másnap is (8-án) csak nagy óvatossággal haladhattunk előre a rejtett mélységek és üregek fölött. Növekvő nyugtalansággal lestük, mikor érünk már megbízható sík jégre, ahol meggyorsíthatjuk előnyomulásunkat.

Napokon keresztül mindig ugyanaz a gyötrelmes vergődés. Bukdácsolások, zúzódások, ütődések, – rianások, borotvaélességű jég, nehéz vontatás a meredek lejtőkön: ezek voltak a nap eseményei. Beszédtárgynak nem valami vonzó. Nem is ezek körül forgott beszélgetésünk, amikor estefelé tanyát ütöttünk – ételekről beszélgettünk. Hogy milyen

éhesek voltunk, jellemzésül elég elmondani, hogy december 9-én alig vártuk már a karácsonyt, amikor – törik-szakad – jól fogunk lakni.

December 10-én, a gleccserrel folytatott újabb kemény küzdelem után egy hegy alatt ütöttünk sátrat, amelyet Cloudmaker- ("fellegcsináló") hegynek kereszteltünk el. Amíg én odajártam a hegyen, útat kémlelni, a többiek lapos kövek közt megzúzták a kukoricát, hogy kiegészítsük vele a magunk eleségét.

Az elkészítés módja olyan kezdetleges volt, hogy a legtöbb ember egy falatot se tudott volna legyűrni belőle, de csak így kerülhettük el a kukorica hosszas főzését – amire nem pocsékolhattuk el drága petróleumunkat.

Akármilyen válságos volt is a helyzetünk, fölélénkített a gondolat, hogy mégis csak haladunk. De a szánok csúnyán megrongálódtak a jéggel való folytonos harcban, és minthogy a sarktól még 630 kilométer választott el bennünket, kivánkoztunk már olyan térszín után, amely kevésbé emlékeztessen rá, mintha uborkahéjon jérnánk. Semmiféle jégfelszín nem olyan idegesítő, mint az ilyen napfény aszalta jég, amelyen az ember lába örökösen megbicsaklik.

Másfelől azonban az ilyen térszínen legalább halad valamire az ember. Csak december 12-én jutottunk olyan viszonyok közé, hogy naphosszat nem morzsoltunk le többet öt-hat kilométernél. A szakadékokkal és repedésekkel megszabdalt késélességü, gidres-gödrös jég olyan akadályokat gördített elénk, aminőknek nincs párja a sarki utazások történetében. Megint csak részletekben vánszoroghattunk előre, előbb egyik, majd a másik szánba fogva be magunkat. Ketten húztuk, ketten támogattuk a szánt, hogy föl ne boruljon. Ilyen módon előre dolgoztuk magunkat vagy két kilométerre, aztán visszafordultunk a repedéseken keresztül a másik szánért, hogy elhozzuk magunkkal olyan térszínen, amelyen egyetlen kisiklás halált jelenthetett.

Ebben a folytonos bukdácsoláshan a szánok természetesen sokat szenvedtek; törött orruk gyakran bele-beleakadt a kemény, éles jégbe. Ilyenkor a szán hátulja megemelkedett, majd megint lecsapódott velünk. Minden nehézség és veszedelem közepette azonban vigasztalt a gondolat, hogy majd csak végére érünk a gleccsernek és feljutunk a várva-várt fennsíkra.

December 16-ára már teljes 200 kilométeres ut volt mögöttünk a repedésekkel megszabdalt jég hátán, és már 2000 méter körüli magasságban jártunk a földkerekség legnagyobb gleccserén. Másnap "fölégettük a hidat" magunk mögött, már ami a meleg ruhákat illeti: hátrahagytunk minden, de minden nélkülözhető felszerelést. A részletekben való vánszorgás – hogy minden utat háromszor kellett végigjárnunk – roppantul késleltette haladásunkat célunk felé, és nincs az a szomjazó, aki jobban áhítozott volna valaha az italra, mint ahogyan mi sóvárogtunk a megváltó fennsík után. A gleccsernek mintha soha nem akart volna már vége szakadni.

HUSZONHATODIK FEJEZET.A délsarki fennsíkon.

Elképzelni sem tudok keservesebb tantalusi kínokat, mint amik bennünket gyötörtek, amikor a plató már karnyújtásnyira közelnek tetszett, és még mindig nem jutottunk fel reá. A repedések vég nélkül folytatódtak.

Ekkortájban már világosan éreztük, hogy az élelem kérdésén fordul meg sikerünk avagy kudarcunk – elérjük-e vagy sem a déli sarkot. Ezért hát olyan takarékosságba fogtunk, hogy majd megőrjített az éhség.

Naponta lecsíptünk magunktól két-két darab kétszersültet, és egy kis pemikánt és cukrot is. Megpróbáltuk pótolni a hiányt vízben megpuhított kukoricával. Azt majszolgattuk. Ha az álom csillapíthatná az ember éhségét, semmi panaszunk nem lehetett volna, mert bizony mi éjszakáról-éjszakára ennivalóról álmodtunk. Karácsony előtt egy héttel még 35 napra való eleségünk volt, és körülbelül 555 kilométerre jártunk célunktól. És persze ugyanennyi távolságot kellett számítanunk visszafelé is a depóig, amelyet ezen a helyen állítottunk. A legjobb esetben is ezt az 1110 kilométert a leszállított napi adagok mellett kell lemorzsolnunk, ha célt akarunk érni.

Napról-napra reméltük, hogy megszabadulunk a rianásoktól, de habár az időjárás dolgában szerencséseknek mondhattuk mígunkat, esténkint, amikor tanyát ütöttünk, kívánva kívántuk, vajha ez lenne utolsó tanyánk a gleccseren. És nem volt nap, hogy ne kísértett volna a karácsonyi ebéd gondolata!

December 21-én – nyárközép napján – megfordult az időjárás. –15 fokos hidegben olyan heves hóvihar kerekedett, hogy ujjunk, arcunk elfagyott, és szakállunkról, bajuszunkról jégcsapok lógtak. A megviselt sátrunk falát döngető átható fagyos szélrohamokból ítélve akár azt hihettük volna, hogy tavaszi szánutazáson járunk.

Folytatódott a "részletekben való" vánszorgás. 22-én a hegymászó kötélnek naphosszat dolga akadt. Előbb az egyik szánt vontattuk fölfelé – 180 kilogrammos terheléssel – a meredek lejtőkön, majd pedig kötéllel egybekötözve fordultunk vissza a másikért. Olyan csalóka volt a térszín, hogy sokszor csak a kötél mentctt meg, hogy bele ne zuhanjunk valami feneketlen mélységbe.

Wild úgy jellemezte ezt a mi sétánkat a félig jég – félig hó felszínen, hogy olyan ez, mintha valami pályaudvar üvegfedelén járkálnánk. Annyira hozzászoktunk már a repedésekhez, hogy valahányszor belepottyant valamelyikünk, azt kérdeztük: "Megtaláltad?" Azt hiszem, meglehetős elbizakodottakká váltunk a közvetlen veszedelemmel szemben, habár megvallom, mindig örültünk, amikor meztelen rianással találkoztunk, vagyis olyannal, amely nem volt csalóka hóhíd alá rejtve. Amennyire forrón vágyakoztunk valóban, hogy a déli sark örök havát tapossa a lábunk, elképzelhető, mily borzasztó volt a rianásoknak ez a szakadatlan sora. Bajainkhoz járult, hogy a fokozódó hidegben a kukorica nem dagadt már meg a vízben – hogy ehelyett azután dagadjon meg, miután megettük.

A karácsonyest változatosságot hozott sorsunkba: ez volt a legderűsebb nap, amióta a déli sark országútjának a kapuján beléptünk. Több mint 20 kilométert jártunk meg ezen

a napon, és estére 2772 méter magasságban voltunk a tenger színe felett. Az út előttünk még egyre emelkedett.

Eddig semmi nyomát nem láttuk annak a nagyon kemény felszínnek, amelyről Scott kapitány emlékezik meg az északi platóra tett utazásán, de azért nem mondunk még le a reményről, hogy a térszín javulni fog. Ha ebben a reményünkben megcsalódunk, soha el nem érjük a sarkot.

Karácsony közeledtével gondolataink hazaszálltak, s a hazai karácsonyok örömei és ünnepségei fölmelegítették szívünket. Szó ki nem mondhatja, mennyire sóvárogtunk hallani a "London sarán keresztül surranó kocsik dübörgését" ("the hansoms slurring through the London muds."). De London zaja és London látványosságai helyett mi egy parányi sátorban kucorogtunk, a világ tetejének elszigetelt magasságában, messze-messze az emberláb taposta ösvényektől.

Gondolataink mégis átszáguldottak a hó és jég végtelen sivatagán és az óceánokon azokhoz, akikért küzdöttünk, és akik – éreztük – reánk gondolnak ebben az órában.

Karácsony napjának délelőttjén kemény vontatással mintegy tíz kilométert morzsoltunk le, és eljutottunk a 85° 51' déli szélességre. Aztán lefényképeztem tanyánkat a királynő lengő lobogójával, fellobogózott sátrunkkal együtt. Társaim is rajta vannak a képen. Estére fényes vacsorát csaptunk. Nem mondhatok le róla, hogy részletesen el ne beszéljem.

Az ételsor "hoosh"-sal kezdődött. Ez az eledel a mi esetünkben a pemikánnal, Oxo-val és kétszersülttel összefőzött lóeleséget jelentette. Azután a kakaó vizében megfőztem kevéske plum pudding-unkat, amit Wild kapott volt egy barátjától odahaza. Ez az eledel, egy csöpp brandy-vel olyan finom falat volt, amelyet a legfinnyásabb ínyenc megirigyelhetett. Azután következett a kakaó, végül szivar és egy kávéskanál likőr, amit egy skóciai barátunk küldött.

Ez egyszer jóllaktunk. S minthogy jól tudtuk, hogy hosszú, hosszú időn keresztül nem lesz megint részünk ebben a boldog állapotban, vacsora után megvitattuk a helyzetet, kimondottuk, hogy továbbra is szűkebbre szabjuk napi adagunkat.

Karácsony napján mintegy 460 kilométer választott még el célunktól. Egy havi eleségünk volt még, három hétre való kétszersülttel. Elhatároztuk ennélfogva, hogy minden egyheti kétszersülttel úgy gazdálkodunk, hogy tíz napig tartson. És ráadásul mindent hátrahagyunk, ami nem teljességgel nélkülözhetetlen.

Máris a végsőkig "le voltunk vetkőztetve" – most még egy öltözet tartalékruhára kimondtuk az ítéletet: fölösleges. Megkockáztattuk.

Fejenkint 67 kilogramm terheléssel folytattuk utunkat karácsony másodnapján, jégtorlódásokon és repedéseken keresztül. Valahányszor fölértünk egy-egy jégtorlasz tetejébe, így szóltunk magunkhoz: "talán ez az utolsó". De nem az utolsó volt. És

ezenközben végére jártunk kukoricánknak, és napi adagjaink szűkösebbé váltak, mint valaha. Ha meggondoljuk, hogy a kemény, félig főtt kukorica emésztési zavarokat okozott, jellemző és sajátságos, hogy mennyire sajnáltuk, hogy fogyatékán van ez az eleség. De az, aki ismeri az éhséget is meg az étvágytalanságot is, nagyon is jól tudja, melyik a szívósabb baj.

December 28-án 3080 méter tengerszín feletti magasságban jártunk, a 86°31' déli széleségen. Fejfájás kezdett gyötörni. Azt hiszem, ez egy fajtája lehetett a hegyi betegségnek. Olyanforma érzés volt, mintha dugóhuzóval csavarintanák fölfelé az idegeinket és végül kihúznák. Szánunk erősen megrongálódott ekkoráig, s a lágy hó borzasztó gonosz felszínén nagy küzdelemmel mozogtunk előre. Nagy magasságban a fizikai munka mindig roppant megerőltető – nem csoda, hogy már-már közel jártunk a végső kimerüléshez.

Ha legalább nem folytatódott volna az emelkedés, elviseltük volna a hideget; a kettő együtt aggasztóan próbára tette erőnket. És ráadásul az év utolsóelőtti napján olyan déli hóvihar kerekedett, hogy majd az egész napot hálózsákjainkban heverve vesztegeltük el.

Ott hevertük el mozdulatlanságban a drága időt, fogyasztva a drága eleséget, törve rajta a fejünket, hogyan segíthetnénk magunkon. De nem tudtunk okosabbat kieszelni vigasztalásunkra annál az elhatározásnál, hogy hacsak eléggé sikerül megközelítenünk célunkat, majd' mindent hátrahagyva, rohammal vesszük be a sarkot. Vagy legalább megkíséreljük.

Az év utolsó napja több mint húsz kilométerrel vitt közelebb célunkhoz. Ha még úgy fájt is a fejünk és gyötört az éhség: fölvidámított a gondolat, hogy – a távolság kevesbedik.

HUSZONHETEDIK FEJEZET. A legmesszebbre, délen.

Újév estéjén 320 kilométernyire közelítettük meg a sarkot: minden rekordot levertünk ekkorára, úgy az északi, mint a déli sarki rekordokat.* Reményünk, hogy jobb térszínre jutunk, nem teljesült. Megint csak lágy havon kellett előre küzdenünk magunkat s a hideg északi szél szinte keresztülfújt rajtunk, olyan legyöngültek voltunk a rossz táplálkozástól.

Bármennyire elűztem magamtól a kudarcnak még a gondolatát is, mérlegelnem kellett higgadtan a felelősséget társaim életéért. Éreztem, hogy ha túllövünk a célon, lehetetlen lesz elvergődnünk a téli szállásra olyan térszínen, amilyenen most is járunk – és akkor erőfeszítésünk minden eredménye elvész a világ számára.

Ezekben a napokban elmondhattuk már, hogy végleg megállapítottuk, hogy a déli sark itt van ezen a platón, amely a földkerekség legmagasabb fennsíkja.

Geológiai és meteorológiai megfigyeléseinkből sok hasznot fog meríteni a tudomány. Utunk eredményessége tehát már sem kétséges. De mindez – mégsem a déli sark! Szomorúsággal adtam számot róla magamnak, hogy bizony a sark még mindig tekintélyes távolságra van.

* Peary 1906-ban az északi szélesség 87° 6''-ét érte el; a déli sarkot Shackleton előtt Scott közelítette meg legjobban, a Discovery-expedíción. Scott 1902-ben 82° 16 1/2' déli szélességig jutott ugyancsak Sbackleton társaságában.

De hát az ember megteszi, ami tőle telik. A természet ellenséges hatalmával folytatott tíz órai küzdelem után egy csajka eleség két darab kétszersülttel, és egy csésze kakaó bizony alig-alig melegített fel, és állította helyre erőnket.

Elhatároztam, hogy újabb eleségraktárt állítunk föl és onnan még egy rohamot intézünk a sarkra. A parányi depó, amelyet hátrahagytunk január 4-én, oly észrevehetetlen pont a mérhetetlen fennsíkon, hogy ezt a kockázatos cselekedetünket csakis a körülmények kényszere igazolhatja. Társaim, mint mindig, önmegtagadással járultak hozzá tervemhez.

A bambuszrúd, amellyel itthagyott készletünket megjelöltük, siralmasan elenyészőnek tetszett a természet roppant arányai mellett; valóban, fél óra sem telt bele és elvesztettük szem elől, és nem maradt más, mint bizakodni benne, hogy lábunk nyomai a hóban visszavezérelnek majd a depóhoz.

Ugyanez nap este tisztán állt előttem – és nem is fogadhattam el magam előtt, – hogy alig feszíthetjük tovább a húrt. Elérkeztünk erőnk végső határára. Fejenkint 32 kilogrammra apadt a teher, amit utolsó depónk fölállítása után vonszoltunk magunkkal, és mégis fárasztóbbnak éreztük ezt a súlyt annál a körülbelül félmétermázsás tehernél, amivel még az előző nap birkóztunk, sőt fárasztóbbnak a három hét előtti 112 kilogrammnál. Semmi sem győzhetett meg ennél jobban erőnk megfogyatkozásáról, még ha szemet hunyhattam volna is a súlyosbító körülmények előtt, hogy arcunkat össze-vissza hasogatta a szél, lábunk, kezünk, majd hogy el nem halt már a fagyássebektől, lábbelink elnyűtt, és amikor reggel kibújtunk nyirkos zsákunkból, Burberry-kabátunk egyszeriben páncélinggé dermedt testünkön, és arcunkon, szakállunkon merő jéggé fagyott a lehelet menetelés közben.

El nem mondhatom, mit nem adtunk volna akkoriban egy ollóért, amellyel lenyisszanthatjuk hajunkat és szakállunkat; ha sejthettük volna előre, hogy ilyen kemény hideg időjárás kerekedik, bizonyosan hoztunk volna magunkkal.

Legfőbb ellenségünk volt nyilván a magasság és jéghideg szél. A természet ellenünk esküdött, és most már a legtöbb, amiben bizakodhatunk, hogy száz tengeri mérföldre megközelítjük a sarkot.*

Másnap akarva, nem akarva, meg kellett toldanunk napi eleségadagunkat, hogy egyáltalában életben maradjunk; testünk hőmérséklete mélyen a normális alá süllyedt,

és olyan fejfájás kínzott, hogy mindenkit szívből sajnálok, aki ehhez fogható fájdalmat valaha átszenvedett.

Jóllehet nyár derekán voltunk, egyetlenegyszer sem emelkedett a hőmérő a nullapont fölé, Fahrenheit szerint, amióta a fennsíkon járunk. Január 6-án heves hóvihar és hófuvás mellett – 57° fagyot értünk meg.*

A valamicskével bőségesebb ebéd – jóllehet meg sem közelítette még az eredetileg előirányzott teljes napi tápanyagmennyiséget – mindjárt éreztette üdvös hatását. Ezen a napon körülbelül 25 kilométeres utat tettünk meg, és elértük a 88° 7' déli szélességet. Bele kellett nyugodnom a gondolatba, hogy ez lesz végső tanyahelyünk. El voltam rá szánva azonban, hogy itt mindent hátrahagyva, kezünkben a brit lobogóval még egy utolsó rohamot intézünk a sark irányában. Meg sem kísérlem leírni, mily szomorú érzéssel töltött el ez az elhatározás. Csak egy dolog enyhítette keserű csalódásunkat: a tudat, hogy erőnk végső porcikájáig küzdöttünk, és nem adtuk meg magunkat hamarább, csak amikor a természet hatalma és a szűkös táplálkozás egyesűlt erővel legyűrt bennünket.

* 100 tengeri mérföld – 185 /2 kilométer. Ez a remény tehát teljesült, sőt messzebb jutottak. A 88° 23', ahonnan január 9-én visszafordult a csapat, már csak 97 tengeri mérföldre, vagyis 180 kilométerre van a déli sarktól.**) 0° Fahrenheit = – 32 × 5/9 = – 160/9 = –17,8° Celsius.–57° "of frost" = –57 × 5/9 = –285/9 = –31,7° Celsius.

5. kép. A legdélibb tanyahely hatvan órai hóvihar után.

Két teljes napig kellett várakoznunk tétlenül heverve hálózsákjainkban, amíg rá keríthettük a sort erre az utolsó előretörésünkre a lobogóval – két drága, becses nap ment veszendőbe a dühöngő hóvihar és a csontig maró hideg miatt. Ezalatt az idő alatt fogyasztottuk pótolhatatlan eleségünket, anélkül, hogy egyetlen lépéssel közelebb jutottunk volna célunkhoz, s méghozzá abban a komor aggodalomban teltek ezek a napok, hogy a hófúvás ezalatt betemeti lábnyomainkat. Akkor azután a kérdések kérdése, miképp fogunk rátalálni hátrahagyott depónkra.

Tisztán állt előttünk, hogy végzetessé válható kockázatot vállaltunk, s válságos helyzetben vagyunk. De legalább vigasztalhattuk magunkat, hogy – végig játszottuk a játékot és nem futamodtunk meg időnek előtte.

Negyven fokos (Celsius) hidegben metsző szél kerekedett. A szél megtalálta az utat vékony sátrunkba, sőt még hálózsákjainkba is beszüremkedett a hó, amelyek pedig anélkül is éppen elég nyirkosak voltak már. Görcsök támadtak meg, s hol egyik, hol másik lábunkat kellett életre kelteni azzal, hogy cipőt, harisnyát lehúztunk róla és ingünk alá bújtatva melengettük, – egyiket a másikával. Sivár helyzetünket fokozta, hogy nem volt olvasnivalónk; apró könyveinket is hátrahagytuk, hogy súlyt nyerjünk azzal is.

Elmondhattuk becsülettel, hogy ellőttük nyilainkat. Mihelyt megszűnt a szélvész éjjel felé, útra készen álltunk, hogy valamicskével tovább küzdjük magunkat, és oly közel tűzzük ki a lobogót a déli sarkhoz, amily közel emberileg csak lehetséges.

Január 9-én reggel 9 órakor a keleti hosszúság 162. fokán elértük a 88° 23' déli széleséget. Félig járva, félig futva tettük meg ezt az utolsó 30 kilométert (16 ívpercet), a legutóbbi hóvihartól megkeményedett térszínen. Különös érzés volt valóban a hónapok óta magunkkal vonszolt súlyos szán lidércnyomásától megszabadulni.

Elkövetkezett az óra, amikor ki kellett tűznünk az angol királyné lobogóját és a másik Union Jack-et. Birtokba vettük a déli sark platóját a brit birodalom uralkodója nevében. S mialatt ott ropogott és ki-kifeszült a brit lobogó a fagyos szélben, amely a velőnkig átjárt bennünket, erős nagyítású látcsöveinken kémleltük a déli láthatárt, de semmit nem láttunk, csak a halotti fehér hótakarót.

Semmi megszakadás a plató folytonosságában a sark felé; teljességgel meg voltunk róla győződve, hogy a cél, amelyre törtünk és amelyet elérnünk nem sikerült, ott van abban a végtelen fehér hósivatagban.

Csak percekig maradtunk, aztán kezünkben az angol királyné lobogójával, hátat fordítottunk a déli sarknak, és hazafelé irányítottuk lépteinket. Ha kudarcot vallottunk is, mindent elkövettünk, hogy elkerüljük.

HUSZONNYOLCADIK FEJEZET.Visszafordulunk.

Hazatérő utunk története végtől-végig csupa szenvedés és küszködés. Szenvedtünk az éhségtől, a vérhastól, és küzdöttünk a hóviharokkal, jéghasadékokkal és a járhatatlan térszínnel. Egyetlen vágy hajszolt depóról-depóra – a végsőkig megkínzott vágy az ennivaló után.

Tragikus álmaink voltak arról, hogy enni kapunk, de annál ritkábban ettünk álmunkban. Egyszer mégis ettem álmomban vajaskenyeret. Ha a lelkiismeret – mint mondják – gyávává teszi az embert, biztos vagyok benne, hogy az éhség kapzsivá és ingerlékennyé

teszi. Figyeltük egymást, amint majszolgattuk kevéske ennivalónkat, és határozott bánkódást éreztünk, ha észrevettük, hogy valamelyikünknek sikerül úgy intézni, hogy tovább tartson az eledele.

Néha megembereltük magunkat, és eltettünk egy darabka kétszersültet a következő étkezésre, de a problémát, mi jobb: egyszerre kapni be az ennivalót, vagy harapdálni – sohsem oldottuk meg.

Kezdetben, elmondhatjuk, kedveztek a körülmények: rátaláltunk a kicsiny depóra, amelyet vakmerően hátrahagytunk a nagy fehér hósivatagban, és a szál hátunkba fújt, annyira, hogy vitorlát feszíthettünk szánunkra.

Öt nap alatt megjártunk vagy 160 kilométert. Ekkor még hat napra való kétszersültünk volt – leszállított adagot számítva – és még 223 kilométer választott el a legközelebbi eleség"raktár"-tól. Természetes, hogy még egy darabbal szűkebbre kellett szabnunk a napi adagot.

A szél tartósan kedvezett, és a vitorla olyan nagy könnyebbséget jelentett, hogy egyik nap 49 kilométeres rekordtávolságot futottunk be. És a rákövetkezőn – ötvennégy kilométert!

De akármily gyönyörüség is a rekordjavítás, az én örömömet meglehetősen lejjebb szállította, hogy a sarkamat fagyássebek támadták meg és fölrepedezett. Egyik-másik lábam ujja is fölrepedezett.

Mindamellett elvergődtünk ezen a rekordverő napon 16 kilométerre a depótól; ha a szélvihar nem hátba fúj, hanem ellenünk szegül, csak valami csoda menthet meg, hogy éhen ne vesszünk.

Január 20-án déltájban agyonsanyargatva, elmondhatatlan küzdelmek árán elértük a depót. Két óra hosszat hólejtőn vitt lefelé az utunk, szélvájta mélybarázdákon keresztül, azután úgy egy kilométeren csúnyán össze-vissza hasogatott havasjég (névé) következett, majd pedig síkos kék jégre jutottunk, amelyen ide-oda csúszkál a láb. Nyomorúságunkat betetőzte, és a veszedelmet is igen-igen megnövelte a dühöngő szélvész, amely többször magával rántotta a szánt és levert a lábunkról.

Mindnyájan súlyosakat bukdácsoltunk; én két ízben is olyat hemperedtem, hogy egész testemben összerázkódtam. Hol egyikünk, hol másikunk vesztette el a talajt lába alól; a szél le-lesodort a jéglejtőn, hogy keservesen kecmeregjünk vissza szánunkhoz és társainkhoz.

Bármily keserves volt is ez a nap és bármily kockázatossá vált is a helyzet, örültünk, hogy túljutottunk már a borzalmas délsarki fennsíkon és lefelé tartottunk a gleccseren.

Másnap egy időre befogtam magamat a szánba, de úgy össze voltam verve és zúzva az örökös esésektől, hogy hamarosan le kellett mondanom a vontatásról és beérnem vele,

hogy a szán mellett ballagjak. Szerencsére csinos szelünk volt és völgynek vitt az út, s így nem volt oly főbenjáró az én segítségem.

24-én megint már csak két napi eleségünk volt és egy napra való kétszersült – az erősen leszállított napi adag mellett – és még 74 kilométer választott el hasadékokkal szabdalt térszínen, a legközelebbi depótól. Ha mégoly gyenge voltam is, csaknem "kihevertem" már ütődéseimet.

Úgy látszott, egész utunk már csak versenyfutás az éhhalállal – egyik depótól a másikig. Egy csésze tea, két darab kétszersült és két kanálnyi sajt nem éppen alkalmas déli lakoma, hogy az ember túlságosan fölvillanyozva vágjon neki a délutáni újabb rohamnak. 25-én délben ez volt a helyzet; vacsora után meg már csak egyetlenegy étkezésre való eleségünk maradt, kétszersültünk pedig egy szem sem. Egy kis kakaó, tea, só és bors – ennyi volt az egész, amit másnapra tartogattunk. Ezekből is vajmi kevés. Éreztük, hogy múlhatatlanul el kell érnünk másnap a legközelebbi eleségraktárt, – kimerültségünkben nem bírjuk tovább. 26-án reggel hét órakor már semmink nem volt, csak egy kis tea és kakaó. Ez a nap és a rákövetkező hozta ránk a legválságosabb megpróbáltatást, amellyel életünkben valaha szembenéztünk. Ennek a két napnak keserves kínszenvedése soha el nem törlődhetik emlékezetünkből.

26-án reggel héttől másnap délután két óráig 30 kilométerrel verekedtük előre magunkat a leggonoszabb térszínen és a legveszedelmesebb hasadékokon keresztül, amivel valaha találkoztunk. Éppen csak egyszer-egyszer álltunk meg, hogy felhörpintsük utolsó csöpp teánkat és kakaónkat, és úgyszólván egyfolytában meneteltünk húsz óra hosszat mély hóban, amely sehol sem volt arasznyinál sekélyebb, és néhol csaknem derékig ért. Lépten-nyomon belebuktunk rejtett hasadékokba, és csak a gyaloghám mentett meg bennünket, kölcsönösen egymás segítségére sietve. Semmi szó le nem írhatja ennek a negyvennyolc órának szellemi és testi erőfeszítését. A Kegyelmes Gondviselés vezérelte lépteinket, hogy végül mégis elértük a depót.

26-án reggel útrakelésünkkor, már egy falat kétszersültünk sem volt, csak egy csajka "hoosh"-t, főként a lóeleségnek szánt kukoricából, és egy csajka teát fogyasztottunk. Így bandukoltunk tovább délig, öt teljes óra hosszat. Akkor egy újabb csajka tea, négy deka csokoládé – és hajrá tovább délután háromnegyed ötig. Harapnivaló híján ekkor már csak egy üres teát ihattunk, és azután meg se álltunk tíz óráig. Akkor egy kis csajka kakaót nyeltünk, és végső erőnk megfeszítésével mentünk tovább éjfél után két óráig. Reggel nyolckor újabb csajka kakaó és menetelés délután egyig. Akkor – a depótól már csak egy kilométerre – tanyát ütöttünk.

Adams és Wild halálra fáradtan már-már roskadoztak gyaloghámjaikban, de csak újból nekivetették magukat és elvergődtek ők is a tanyahelyig. Marshall egymagában ment tovább a depóig ennivalóért, és két órakor végre mindnyájan hozzájutottunk a már kétségbeesetten nélkülözött eleséghez. Menekülésünk hajszálon fordult meg. Azon nyomban elnyomott az álom.

HUSZONKILENCEDIK FEJEZET.Küzdelem életre-halálra.

Végre ismét elértük tehát a Jégperemet. A legközelebbi depóig 92 kilométeres út várakozott reánk – hat napra való élelemmel. Úgy éreztük, a legkomorabb veszedelem mögöttünk van már. De korai volt a megkönnyebbülés. A sarki utazó, ha azt képzeli, túl van a veszedelmen és az aggodalmon, mielőtt eljutott volna kutató útja végső állomására: csak önmagát csalja.

Így volt velünk is. Wilden a vérhas jelei mutatkoztak. A bajt csakis a lóhúsnak tulajdonítottuk. Magam meg, még a gleccseren jártunkban beszakadtam a csalóka havon egy rejtett hasadékba. A gyaloghám szíja összeszorult a szívem alatt. Mintha csak intő szavait hallatná a jégár: "Betelt a mérték – ne merészelj többé visszajönni ide!"

Bizonyos, hogy mi éppúgy "torkig voltunk" már a jégárral, mint ahogy az megelégelt bennünket. Kimondhatatlan örömmel fordítottunk hátat neki, mert habár a Jégperem komor fogadtatásban részesített bennünket, tudtuk, hogy tömérdek veszedelem maradt el mögöttünk, és láttuk, hogy már csak a hóviharoktól és förgetegektől van okunk rettegni.

A jégperem azonban úgy látszik, meg akarta mutatni, hogy ő sem kisebb ellenfél a gleccsernél. Mindjárt első nap olyan mogorván köszöntött, hogy a szilaj szélben kéreggé fagyott rajtunk a nyirkos ruha, és percek alatt nyakig benne voltunk megint a dühöngő hóviharban és kavargó hófúvásban. Nem volt más hátra – sátrat kellett ütnünk és hálózsákunkba bújva várni meg, amíg alábbhagy a förgeteg.

Fölöttébb kínos türelmi próba, amikor az embernek olyan mehetnékje van, mint nekünk – és nem tehet okosabbat, mint hogy elnyűtt ruháit foltozgassa.

A rákövetkező napokban balszerencsénk – mintegy változatosságból – újabb fordulatot vett – olyan fordulatot, amelybe csaknem belepusztultunk. Február elejére siralmasabban legyengült állapotban vo1tunk, mint valaha.

Heves vérhas támadott meg mindnyájunkat. Ha bajainkban megvolt is a változatosság, táplálkozásunk a régi maradt. Napjában négy nyomorultul vékonyka darab kétszersüttel enyh`thettük csak lóhúseleségünket.

Február 2-án elértük a következő depót, és másnap új szánnal – és 68 kilogrammnyi új élelmiszerrel terhelve – kerekedtünk föl megint. Ezen a napon már súlyosan erőt vett rajtunk a vérhas, és kivált Wild állapota volt riasztó.

4-én ezt jegyeztem naplómba: "Nem bírok írni többet. Mind a négyünket levert a lábunkról a vérhas. Rettentő nap. Lehetetlen továbbmennünk. Komor sejtelmek. Szép idő."

Elégtétellel gondolok rá vissza, hogy bármily súlyos aggodalmak gyötörtek is, valóban csak az isteni segedelemben bizakodva, legyöngülten és már-már a reménytelen közömbösségig hajszolódottan – nem hajítottuk a pokolba geológiai gyűjtésünket.

6-án betegségünk megenyhült, de rémségesen éhesek voltunk. Naponta hat darab kétszersült és egye egy csajka lóh]s minden étkezésre bizony édeskevés volt, hogy erőnket vele helyreállíthassuk. Elfogott a nyugtalanság, hogy ez a szakadatlan éhezés végül is ]gy legyöngít, hogy soha nem kerülünk haza.

7-én Adams és Marshall ismét beleestek a vérhasba. Wild és én, jóllehet most megkímélt a baj, szánalmasan le voltunk satnyulva. De azért csak küzdöttünk tovább, miközben lassanlassan vánszorogtunk észak felé.

A menőben áfogatott hóbabák továbbra is jó útmutatóink voltak és nagy könnyebbségünkre szolgálttk. De minden gondolatunk és beszélgetésünk az ennivaló körül forgott. A szél és az időjárás kedvezett ezekben a kétségbeejtő napokban, – máskülönben bizony alig lehetett volna reményünk, hogy agyoncsigázva, kiéhezve elérjük a következő megváltó készletünket.

Ilyen módon gyámolítva 13-án – miután eleségünket megint az utolsó porcikáig fölemésztettük – szerencsésen eljutottunk a depóhoz, ahol szegény öreg Chinaman lovunk májából olyan lakomát csaptunk, hogy a királyok megirigyelhettek volna. Kutattunk holmi maradék hús után, s miközben ástam, ástam a hóban, valami kemény vöröses anyagra bukkantam, amiről kiderült, hogy Chinamannek a vére – csontkeményre fagyva. Kiástuk és amilyen szorongatott helyzetben voltunk, pompás járuléknak tekintettük lómájpecsenyénkhez. Vízben fölforralva olyanformának tetszett, mint a "marhahústea" (beef-tea.)

Jószerencsém úgy akarta, hogy ekkortájra (február 15-ére) esett születésem napja. Ajándékot kaptam ezen a napon: egy cigarettát. Pipadohány volt, szivarka-papirosba sodorva. Nagyszerűen ízlett.

Boldog pillanatok voltak ezek nyomorúságunkban. A cigarettázásomat követő nap megint olyan kegyetlenül éhesek voltunk s következésképpen legyöngültek, hogy üres élelmiszertarisznyánkat alig bírtuk megemelni.

Amikor sátorbontásra került a sor, előbb bontottuk el a sátrat és csak azután szedtük össze holminkat, hogy ne kelljen átemelni motyóinkat a sátor ajtaján. Este néha úgy kellett két kézre fogni a lábunkat, hogy belekecmeregjünk a sátorba; elgyötörten a nap fáradalmától, megmerevedett lábunkat alig bírtuk mozdítani.

Február 17-én vakító hóförgeteg ért utol, 23 Celsius-fokos hidegben; szerencsénkre hátba fújt a szél. Jóllehet a vitorlával fölszerelt szán gyakran nekünk szaladt és lágy hóba érve a szélrohamok olykor föltaszítottak: hálásak lehettünk, hogy nem kellett ezzel a kegyetlen széllel szemtől-szembe hadakozni.

Tragikus álmok kerülgettek állandóan: persze ennivalóról álmodoztunk. Jaj volt annak, aki négyünk közül tovább eddegélte a maga kásaporcióját nálunk, többieknél. Az ilyet irigységünk kísérte, és mondhatom, nem volt népszerű közöttünk abban az órában.

18-án megpillantottuk a Discovery-hegyet, amely mintegy összekötő láncszemnek tetszett közöttünk és a téli szállás között. Az volt az érzésünk, hogy az északnyugaton fölmeredő hatalmas hegyorom ugyanekkor talán társaink szemét is lenyűgözi. Emlékeztetett rá, hogy mégis csak van valahol egy hely, amely a mi otthonunk – s ez megvigasztalt szenvedéses utunkban.

Másnap reggel fölbukkant az Erebus, s ha nem érkeztünk volna megint el utolsó falat "kenyerünkhöz" – eltekintve attól a néhány húsfoszlánytól, amit Grisi lovunk csontjáról farigcsáltunk le, miután hónapokon keresztül hevert a havon, a naptűzésben – minden jól lett volna. Ehhez a hulladékhoz folyamodni mégis túlságosan kockázatos lett volna mindaddig, amíg a legvégső és tökéletes éhhalál nem fenyeget. És mi másnapra reméltük, hogy elérjük – legelső magunk állította eleségraktárunkat.

A reggelire hívó szó már rég a múlté volt. A napos szakács régóta nem mondta már: "Gyertek fiúk, itt a jó kása" – mert már régóta nem volt többé jó kása; ami ennivaló került, kevesebb idő alatt végeztünk vele, mint ami alatt ezt a mondatot leírom, – s máris a következő "étkezés" felé fordult minden gondolatunk és vágyakozásunk.

20-án olyan homály ereszkedett, hogy alig láttunk magunk elé. Délután négy órára elértük mégis A depónkat, amelyben egyebek közt várt ránk az a doboz jam, amelyet eredetileg karácsonyra szántunk. Soha nem ízlett gyümölcsíz fölségesebben! Dohányt és cigarettát is hagytunk volt itt hátra. A dohányzás nemcsak mint élénk élvezet csábított bennünket, de azt reméltük, jó eleségpótló szer lesz a dohány, amíg a Bluff-depóhoz eljutunk. Ez volt az az egyetlen élelmiszerraktár, amelyet Joyce-nak föl kellett állítania számunkra: az egyetlen reménysugár az éhezés és betegség keserves napjaiban.

Mindenesetre támaszkodnunk kellett a biztos reményre, hogy a Bluff-szirt alatt élelmiszerekre találunk; magunknak nem volt annyink, hogy azzal elérjük a hajót. A helyzet ez volt: ha nincs ott a depó, el vagyunk veszve. Valahányszor egy-egy lyukkal karcsúbbra fűztük övünket, mondogattuk: sebaj, csak legyünk egyszer a Bluff-depónál. És olyan mohóság űzöt-tkergetett a depó felé, hogy 21-én 37 fokos fagyban, hóviharban sem szakítottuk félbe utunkat.

Rendes körülmények közt a sarkutazónak eszébe se jut, hogy ilyen időben kimozduljon sátrából, de bennünket a szükség szorongatott, – mennünk kellett. Előttünk a táplálék, – hátunk mögött a halál leselkedett reánk. Annyira lefogytunk, hogy a csontunk belefájdult, amikor a kemény havon feküdtünk hálózsákunkban. Csoda-e, ha – vihar ide, vihar oda – elszántuk magunkat, hogy küzdünk utolsó leheletünkig?!

22-én pompás napunk volt. Emberek és kutyák nyomaira bukkantunk – ez biztosított róla, hogy társaink gondoskodtak rólunk. Csakhamar elhaladtunk a depóállító csoport

delelő tanyája mellett. Üres dobozok hevertek szanaszéjjel, bizonyságául, hogy a hajó megérkezett.

Apróra körülszimatolva a tanya környékét, hátba találunk valami csekélységet, három apró darabka csokoládét sikerült összeszedni, és egy kicsi doboz kétszersültet. Ezeknek persze nyomban végére jártunk. Az osztozkodás véletlene azt akarta, hogy a kétszersült jusson nekem. Egy pillanatra valami furcsa, megokolatlan bosszúság kerített hatalmába balszerencsémen. Semmi sem világíthat rá meggyőzőbben, milyen kezdetleges őslénnyé válik az ember, s hogy egy morzsa eleség kérdése mennyire elevenünkbe vág.

Akárhogy is, közel jártunk a Bluff-hoz, és ott semmi kétség, bőséges készletek várakoznak reánk. De azért csak belénk nyilallott olykor a gondolat, hogy hátha mégsincs ottan semmi és mi végzetünknek megyünk elébe ...

HARMINCADIK FEJEZET.Visszatérés a hajóra.

Február 23-án kora reggel elbontottuk sátrunkat, és alig néhány órával később fölvillant a Bluff-depó. Wild volt az első, aki fölfedezte. Egészen közelnek tetszett. A jelzőlobogók vígan ropogtak a szélben, mintha csak mondanák: "Gyertek, itt vagyok; gyertek és – egyetek!"

6. kép. A Bluff-depó.

Szemvidító látvány valóban, kimerült és éhes vándoroknak. Abban a nyomban, hogy megpillantottuk a depó lobogóját, behabzsoltuk, ami kevés kétszersült még volt a tarisznyánkban.

Délután négy órára elértük a boldog révet. Egyszeriben meggyőződtünk róla, hogy Joyce-ék fényesen végezték küldetésüket. Fölkapaszkodva a halom tetejébe, egyenkint soroltam el a ránk váró nagyszerű falatokat társaimnak. Tömérdek fényűző eledel volt ott egybehordva: karlsbadi szilva, cake, tojás, plum pudding, sőt frissen főtt ürühus. Mind a hajóról került. De mindezeken fölül bőséges készlet volt együtt a szánutazó

mindennapi eleségéből. Egy csapással megszabadultunk nyomasztó szegénységünktől, s már csak az volt hátra, hogy eljussunk a hajóra.

Hogy mily hálás érzéssel vetettük rá magunkat az élelmiszerekre, el nem képzelheti, aki nem éhezett és nem nélkülözött. Isteneknek való lakoma dús kincsei vettek körül, és olyan étvággyal fogyasztottuk, amelyért az istenek megirigyelhettek.

Elsatnyult testünk azonban megbosszulta volna a mértéktelenséget, de el nem mondhatom, milyen megkönnyebbülést szerzett a tudat, hogy csak kezünket kell kinyújtanunk, hogy élelmiszert tapintsunk, ha nem is haraphatjuk mindjárt. Hálózsákomban kinyújtózva írogattam naplómat ez este, kezem ügyében kétszersült, csokoládé és gyümölcsíz. Nyilván valami torkos diákra emlékezteti ez a kép az olvasót. Úgy is van. Nincs rá ok, hogy ne tartsuk ezt tisztára természetesnek.

A Bluff-szirt aljában egyelőre nem sokat tudtunk meg a Nimrodról, mindössze annyit, hogy Evans kapitány volt a parancsnok, ugyanaz, aki vontatóhajónkat, a Koonyát vezette. Sem az északi, sem a nyugati csoportról nem várt itt reánk hír.

Feladatunk az volt most már, hogy elérjük a hajót, mielőtt az kénytelen lenne elvitorlázni. Duzzadó reménységgel vágtunk neki utunknak 24-én.

Másnap azonban Marshallt gyomorbénulás támadta meg, és a vérhas tünetei is kiütöttek rajta. Minthogy úgyis hóvihar kerekedett, elhatároztuk, hogy hálózsákjainkba bújunk és várunk. Ezek a bajok különösen bántók voltak, mert már szorongatott az idő, ha el akarjuk érni a Nimrodot. Félő volt, hogy a hajó – ha a McMurdo-átjáróban sűrű jég mutatkozik – utasításomat követve már március elsején fölszedi horgonyait. És íme, már február 26-át írtuk, olyan esztendőben, amely szerencsétlenségünkre – nem szökőév.

26-án 42 1/2 kilométert gyűrtünk le. Marshall, bár soha nem panaszkodott, kegyetlenül szenvedett. Betegsége egyre aggasztóbbra vált. Másnap délután elhatároztam, hogy Adams ápolására bízva hátrahagyom a beteget, és magam Wilddal nyomulok előre.

Bizakodtam benne, hogy elcsípünk a hajónál egy segítőcsoportot. Rövid étkezőszüneteket leszámítva, egyfolytában, alvás nélkül meneteltünk 24 óra hosszat.

Ekkorára élelmiszerünknek végére jártunk, és persze nagyon fáradtak voltunk. Fényjelzésünkre semmi válasz nem érkezett az Observation Hillről, ahol – azt reméltem – kinn jár egy figyelőcsoport, s az majd észrevesz bennünket.

Nem volt mit tennünk, mint nyomulni előre lankadatlanul. Egy ízben már föllélegzettünk, hogy mentőcsapatot látunk közeledni, de szomorúságunkra kiderült, hogy – pingvinek csoportja tévesztett meg. A jég szélén tipegtek ide-oda.

Délután fél háromkor megpillantottuk a nyílt vizet, de olyan áthatlan, sűrű lett a légkör, hogy alig láttunk magunk elé, és végül is egészen hirtelen és váratlanul értünk ki a jég

szélére. A jég olyan fenyegetőleg libbent föl-alá a vízen, hogy utunk folytatása súlyos kockázattal járt volna, hogy kisodor az ár a nyílt vízre; így hát elhatároztuk, hogy más útvonalat követünk, tizenhárom kilométeres kerülővel, a Castle Rock túlsó oldalán.

Tömérdek küzdelem után elértük végre a Castle Rockot. Onnan láthattuk, hogy észak felé véges-végig nyílt víz terül el. Valóban, ugyancsak másképp alakult hazatérésünk, mint ahogy elképzeltük.

A Jégperemen, és fent a nagy sarki fennsíkon jártunkban gyakran átéltük gondolatban azt a napot, amikor majd megérkezünk a téli szállásra, de soha eszünkbe nem jutott, hogy szégyenszemre majd a hátsó ajtón keresztül kell kerülnünk, és ilyen barátságtalan módon harcolnunk ki hazajutásunkat.

Este nyolc óra felé elértük a Ski Slope ("sílejtő") tetejét és – megpillantottuk kunyhónkat és az öblöt. Hajónak semmi híre sehol, és a kunyhó körül sem mutatkozott az élet semmi jele.

Komor balsejtelmektől űzve siettünk a kunyhóhoz. Sehol senki. Társaink már mind búcsút vettek.

Számunkra levelet hagytak, amelyben elmondják, hogy valamennyi csoport hajóra szállt, és a hajó a Glacier Tongue (Gleccsernyelv) védelmében várakozik ránk február 26-áig. Minthogy már 28-a volt, elképzelhető, milyen kínosan hatott rám a váratlan fordulat. Ha a hajó elment, társaink is, odakint a jégperemen, mi magunk is, válságos helyzetbe sodródtunk.

Főzőüstöt rögtönöztünk, találtunk olajat és Primuslámpát, és a kunyhó körül hagyott készletek közt kétszersültre, hagymára és plum puddingra bukkantunk. Szörnyű fáradtak voltunk, mégis kegyetlenül rossz éjszakánk volt, mert hálózsákunkat otthagytuk a szánon, társainknál. Ráakadtunk valami kunyhófedő nemezdarabra, abba igyekeztünk beleburkolózni, és úgy ültünk fönn egész éjjel, dideregve.

Megpróbáltuk fölgyújtani a mágnességi kuny1ót, abban a reményben, hogy majd a hajón észreveszik, de sehogy sem akart meggyulladni. Akkor aztán megkíséreltük, hogy a lobogót reákötözzük Vince bajtársunk síremlékére,* de annyira ki voltunk merülve és agyonfagylalva, hogy nem bírtuk megkötni a csomót.

Reggelre azután mind a kétféle módon jelt adhattunk: fölgyújtottuk a kunyhót és fölkötöztük a lobogót. Minden aggodalmunkat egyszeriben eloszlatta az a boldog pillanat, amikor szemünkbe ötlött a hajó a messzeségben. Fényjelzővel jeleket adtunk, és március elsején délelőtt 11 órakor biztonságban voltunk megint a Nimrod fedélzetén. Nem kísérlem meg leírni, micsoda mázsás kő szakadt le szívemről, sem azt, hogy milyen fogadtatásban részesítettek barátaink. Elveszetteknek hittek, és épp aznap készültek kiküldeni egy csoportot a fölkutatásunkra.

* A Discovery-expedíción szerencsétlenül járt bajtárs emlékére Scotték keresztet állítottak a Hut Point magaslatán. (Angolok a déli sarkvidéken).

7. kép. A déli csoport a Nimrod fedélzetén. Balról jobbra: Wild, Shackleton, Marshall, Adams.

Csupa jó újságot hozott a hajó a nagyvilágból. Az expedíció minden tagja jól volt, és minden kitűzött programot megvalósítottak.

Nem volt azonban veszteni való időnk, hogy a pompás híreken és jelentéseken éldelegjünk – Marshallt és Adamst kellett mindenekelőtt biztonságba helyezni. Még aznap délután visszafordultam a jégperem széléről Mackay, Mawson és McGillan társaságában. Wild a Nimrodon maradt. Huszonnégy órával később megérkeztünk a sátorhoz, ahol két társunkat hagytuk.

Marshall egészsége javult valamelyest, úgyhogy a maga lábán jöhetett, sőt a vontatásban is segített. Ebéd után azonnal indultunk és este 8-ig meneteltünk. Hajnalban négykor megint talpon voltunk, és délután 3 órára megérkeztünk a jégperem szélére. A hajónak semmi nyoma. A tenger befagyóban volt. Vártunk ötig, aztén rájöttünk, hogy a szárazföldön is átvághatunk a Pram Pointnál. Marshall állapota megint rosszabbodott a fárasztó gyaloglástól. Egyik sátrunkat egy szánnal tehát kinnhagytuk a jég szélén és a hálózsákokkal és gyűjtésünk eredményével megrakodva átkapaszkodtunk a Crater Hillen és leereszkedtünk a Hut Pointra. Este tíz órára elértük a téli szállást, és Marshallt ágyba fektettük.

Mackay és én karbidot égettünk jeladásul fenn a dombtetőn, Vince keresztjénél, és virrasztva lestük a választ. Kisvártatva fölbukkant a Nimrod. Hóvihar dühöngött, de Mackintosh észrevette jeladásunkat 16 kilométer távolságból.

Adams és én hajóra szálltunk. A biztos révbejutás küszöbén Adams majd hogy oda nem veszett. Ö, aki átszenvedte és túlélte a délsarki szárazföld belsejének minden keserves megpróbáltatását és veszedelmét: a jégfal szélén megsiklott és hajszál híja, hogy le nem zuhant. Az új finncsizma okozta a balesetet. Szerencsére megkapaszkodott,

és úgy tartotta magát, amíg a hajóról segítség nem érkezett. Kínos balesettel kezdte – és majd hogy halálos balesettel nem végezte.

Marshallért és a többiekért csónak ment vissza, és március 4-én éjfél után egy órakor végre csakugyan valamennyien biztonságban voltunk a Nimrod fedélzetén.

HARMINCEGYEDIK FEJEZET.Visszaemlékezés a déli utazásra.

A déli sark felé vivő útunkból az éles, maró éhség kiirthatatlan emlékeivel tértünk vissza.

1908. november 15-étől 1909. február 23-áig mindössze egyszer laktunk jól: karácsony napján, – és akkor is alig nyeltük le a falatot, megint csak olyan éhesek voltunk, mint annakelőtte. Napi "fejadag"-unk kicsi lett volna egy munkásembernek a mérsékelt éghajlat alatt; a mi esetünkben fokozta az éhséget az a körülmény, hogy megerőltető testi munkánkat roppant alacsony hőmérsékletben végeztük.

Vacsoránk elkészültével rendesen hátat fordítva választottunk, hogy igazságos legyen az osztozkodás. A napos szakács a "hoosh"-t csajkába mérte széjjel, a kétszersültet négy csomóba rakta, és amikor kimondtuk az ítéletet, hogy a porciók egyformák, egyikünk hátat fordított, másik társunk meg egyenkint rábökött az ujjával a csomókra, és megkérdezte: "Kié legyen?" Az, aki háttal állott, találomra mondott egy nevet, és azé lett a szóbanforgó adag – persze a legkisebb valamennyi közül, ahogy szentül hittük, mind a négyen.

Egyik nap csokoládé, a rákövetkezőn sajt volt délre. A csokoládét aránytalanul jobban szerettük, mert lobban kielégített és könnyebb volt elosztani. Amennyire rá voltunk utalva a lóhusra, érthető, hogy Socks elvesztése borzasztó csapás volt reánk.

Ha Socks húsát megehetjük, semmi kétség, hogy messzebb jutunk délnek, s talán magát a sarkot is elérjük. De hozzátehetem, hogy ha kierőszakoljuk az utat a sarkig, aligha érjük el a hajót, amelyet a tél közeledése visszatérésre kényszerített volna.

A legkisebb restelkedés nélkül megvallom, hogy délnek vivő útunk utolsó heteiben és hosszú vándorlásunk idején visszafelé, amikor naponként és fejenkint 57 dekagramm eleségre voltunk szorítva: alig járt máson az eszünk, mint folyton csak az evésen. Roppantul kezdetleges lénnyé törpül az ember, ha kétségbeejtő éhség környékezi, és sem a hegyek dicső koszorúja, amely utunk mentén tornyosult, sem a hatalmas jégár nagyszerűsée, amelyen oly gyötrelmesen küzdöttük előre magunkat, nem mozdította meg érzésvilágunkat.

Sokszor elgondolkodtam fölötte, vajon azokat, akik szenvednek a nagy városokban az éhségtől, ugyanazok az érzések hatják-e át, mint amelyek bennünket sanyargattak? Arra az eredményre jutottam, hogy ez lehetetlen, mert minket semmiféle törvény és

rendszabály vissza nem tarthatott volna, hogy ki ne nyújtsuk kezünket bármi elérhető táplálék után.

A különbség talán abban rejlik, hogy akik városhelyütt éheznek, fásultak és reményvesztettek, míg mi – csaknem mindvégig – megőriztük szívós akaraterőnket és belső hevünket.

Mi nem vettük tréfára az evés ügyét, mint ahogy ezt tapasztaljuk sokszor azoknál, akik amúgy a szó mindennapi értemében éheznek a civilizált világban.

Ha mégoly sokat foglalkoztunk is vele és beszéltünk is róla – majdnem szünet nélkül – mindig a legmélységesebb komolysággal tettük.

Dél felé tartva az éhség még nem vált ilyen aggasztóvá, mindaddig, amíg a gleccserre nem értünk; ott pedig annyira lekötötte minden figyelmünket a hegymászás és a hasadékok veszedelme, hogy nem sokat beszéltünk. Azután meg, fölérve a fennsíkra, arcunkat rendesen annyira belepte a jég, hogy már csak ezért se volt kedvünk a szájunkat se kinyitni.

A visszatérő útban, miután már végére értünk a gleccsernek s a Jégperem felszínén bandukoltunk: akkor kezdtünk szabadjára beszélgetni az ennivalóról. Valóban furcsa érzések ébrednek ma bennem, ha akkori naplójegyzeteimet előveszem, és olvasok a csodás eledelekről, hogy mi mindent is ennénk mi össze, ha beszabadulnánk valami kitűnő étterembe.

Apróra kiszíneztük és elmagyaráztuk egymásnak, roppant komolysággal, az új meg új fogásokat, amiket kigondoltunk s ha általános tetszéssel találkozott az ötlet, karban zúgtuk rá valamennyien:     – Hjaja! Az bizony jó dolog!

A "göngyölt vadpecsenye" – ez volt általánosan elismert tetőpontja az ínyencfalatoknak. Fölvetettük az eszmét, hogy a szakács szerezzen be szép fiatal húst, verje meg apróra, göngyölje be kövér szalonnaszeletbe, és körös-körül vonja be vastagon pástétommal, hogy olyanformán fessen az egész, mint valami kolbásztekercs. Ezt a tekercset aztán rántsa ki kövér zsírban.

A magam találmányai közül, amiket kieszeltem a hósivatagban való vándorlásunk közben, legbüszkébb voltam egy bizonyos szardíniás pástétomra. Emlékszem, egy napon Marshall azzal az indítvánnyal állott elő, hogy jó volna talán egy vastag tekercs hájas puddding, gyümölcsízzel borítva. Tüzes vita indult meg erre afölött, vajon igényt tarthat-e ez a fogás arra, hogy új találmányként szerepeljen, avagy nam azonos-e egyszerűen azzal a gyümölcstortafélével, amelyet minden háziasszony ismer odahaza.

Egy pontban mindnyájan egyetértettünk, éspedig abban az egyetemes kívánságban, hogy jelly meg efféle nem fog szerepelni jövőbeli étlapunkon. Az a gondolat, hogy ilyen sikamlós dolgokat együnk, mint a jelly, csöppet se izgatta fantáziánkat.

Lehet, hogy mindez művelt emberhez nem méltó falánkságnak fog feltűnni mindazok szemében, akik nem lebegtek soha az éhenhalás küszöbén. De ismételnem kell, az éhség nagyon leegyszerűsíti az embert. Egyetlen mosoly nem játszadozott ajkunkon, amikor eltervezgettük ezeket a csodálatos "agyonzabálásokat", mérhetetlenül komolyságos kérdések voltak ezek a mi szemünkben, és naplónk lapjainak üres oldalaira egész ételsorokat jegyezgettünk össze azokról a lakomákról, amelyekben részünk lesz majd, ha hazaérkezünk a bőség országába.

A vérhas, amelytől sokat szenvedtünk, bizonyosan Grisi lovunk húsának volt tulajdonítandó. Ezt az állatot kimerült állapotában lőttük le, és azt hiszem, húsa meg lehetett fertőzve a kimerültsg mérgével, mint ahogy tapasztalati dolog ez a halálra hajszolt állatoknál. A módok, amiket kieszeltünk utunk folytatására, ha törik, ha szakad, és az a gyorsaság, amivel talpraállottunk, mihelyt jó eleséghez jutottunk: legalábbis szembeötlő volt. Bizonyára azért volt ez, mert a vérhas mérgezés és nem szervi bántalom következménye volt.

A nyomorúság időszakában szinte gondviselésszerű volt, hogy hátban fújt a szél, és bizonyosan ez mentett meg bennünket, mert szembefújó szélben nem tehettünk volna ekkora napi meneteket. Már pedig akkor éhenvesztünk volna a depók között.

Az út kezdetén, a sík jégperem felszínén keserves volt a nap heve, jóllehet a hőmérő erős hideget jelzett. Egészen megszokott jelenség volt, hogy karunk egyik fele elfagyott, a másikat meg leégette a nap. Később, amikor erőnk már hanyatlott, nagy nehézségbe került, hogy kifeszítsük a vitorlát a szánra; ugyanis ha karunkat fejünk fölé emeltük, hogy eligazítsuk a vitorlát, a vér lefutott az ujjunkból és egyszeriben elfagyott. Az elfagyással való örökös küzdelmünk kétségtelenül, főrészt túlságosan is könnyű ruhánknak volt tulajdonítható. A könnyű viselet hátrányát azonban ellensúlyozta a nagyobb sebesség, amivel haladhattunk. Meggyőződésem, hogy sarki utazásra lehető könnyű viselet való, jóllehet ez megnöveli az elfagyás veszedelmét a pihenőkön.

Sokat zúgolódtunk örökösen a gleccser ellen, amely annyi nehézséget okozott; fő panaszom ma az, hogy a gleccser nagyon érdekes szakaszairól nem hoztunk haza fényképeket. Ennek a mulasztásnak az a magyarázata, hogy azt gondoltuk, annyi fölvételt csinálhatunk a visszatérő útban, amennyi lemezünk csak marad. Jövet azonban olyan szűkiben voltunk az élelemnek, hogy nem áldozhattunk időt a fényképezőgép kicsomagolására.

A gleccser felszíne a lágy hótól a megrepedezett kék jégig a térszínfajták egész sorával kedveskedett; utóbb állandó jelenséggé vált a hasadékokkal összevissza szabdalt jégfelület.

Némelyik hasadékot lágy hóréteg borította, és csak akkor fedeztük fel őket, amikor valamelyikünk belezuhant és gyaloghámján függve maradt. Még nehezebb volt túlkerülni a mállódó jégben mutatkozó szövevényes hasadékokon. A szánok, hosszúságuknál fogva nemigen forogtak abban a veszélyben, hogy lebukfencezzenek ezekbe a szakadékokba, így tehát a szánba fogva elég biztonságosan érezhettük

magunkat. Igen ám, de amikor a felszín kedvezőtlen volt és kénytelenek voltunk egyesült erővel vontatni előre a szánokat, előbb az egyiket, azután a másikat: visszatérőben, amikor üresen mentünk, nélkülöztük a szánnak ezt a támogatását.

Rendesen úgy csináltuk ilyenkor, hogy az első szánt elvonszoltuk egy-két kilométerre, ott letűztünk egy bambuszrudat, hogy megjelöljük a helyet, aztán visszamentünk a másik szánért. Visszatérőben mindig kötélre fűztük magunkat, de még így is sokkal bizonytalanabbnak éreztük a helyzetünket, mint amikor a hosszú, nehéz szánhoz voltunk kötözve.

Sokat lendített rajtunk bizonyára az a jószerencse, hogy mind menet, mind jövet a hátunkba fújt a szél a gleccseren. Akkor is, amikor fölfelé kapaszkodtunk rajta, akkor is amikor lefelé kecmeregtünk. Másrészt viszont a gleccseren sokszor bajba kerültünk amiatt, hogy esténkint agyonfáradva gyakran egy óra hosszat is elkeresgéltünk, ide-oda tipegve a hepehupás, élesre hasogatott jég tengerében, amíg végre akkora havas foltra találtunk, hogy rajta sátrunkat kifeszíthettük.

Az élelmiszeres tarisznyákat és a megterhelt szánokat a sátor köré raktuk, és igazán szerencséről beszélhetünk, hogy nem kerekedett rossz idő, amíg fölfelé kaptattunk a gleccseren. Ha álmunkban hóvihar lep meg, szanaszéjjel szórhatta volna kincseinket. Egyetlen ilyen eset végzetessé válhatott.

A felső gleccserdepó fölött hatalmas sziklaszirtek meredeztek, amelyeket megszámlálhatatlan századok óta ostromolnak a fagy és a viharok. A szirtfalak egyik-másik része olyan roskatag és málladozó volt, hogy egyetlen szélroham ledönthette mennydörgéses robajjal. Körös-körül nemrégiben legörgött sziklatörmelék hevert sátrunk körül, s nem valami kellemetes érzéssel gondoltuk el, hogy valami óriási sziklatömb bármely pillanatban agyonlapíthatna.

Nem válogathattunk a tanyahelyben, mert körös-körül csupa érdes jég környékezett. A szirtek nagyobbára málladozó homokkőből voltak. Ugyanez a hegység volt az, amelyben Wild később szenet fedezett föl, egy menedékes ponton, magasabban fenn a gleccseren.

Legnagyobb csalódásaink egyike volt, hogy ami kor a gleccser legvégső kapaszkodóján is túljutottunk; a tulajdonképpeni fennsíkon nem találtunk szilárd felszínre, amire pedig számítottunk. A Discovery-expedíció a McMurdo-átjárótól nyugatra emelkedő platón szilárd térszínre bukkant. Nekünk a fennsíkon is lágy hóval és keményre fagyott szélbarázdákkal (szasztrugi) kellett küzdenünk.

A január 6-án estétől 9-én reggelig dühöngő szilaj hóvihar után kedvezőbbre vált a térszín; a szél elsöpörte a lágy havat, és a felszín meglehetős szilárdra vált. Szán nélkül, ahogy voltunk, könnyűnek éreztük végső rohamunkat a sark felé.

Számot vetve a déli utazáson szerzett tapasztalatainkkal, nem hinném, hogy rámutathatnék bármi jelentékeny újítás lehetőségére az utánunk jövő expedíciók

fölszerelése tekintetében. A tapasztalat azt mutatja, hogy a jégperem felszíne változó; az utazónak el kell készülve lennie, hogy vagy szilárd vagy nagyon is lágy térszínre bukkan, gyakran egy és ugyanazon a napon.

A gleccseren jól fogott volna a súlyos szöges hegymászó bakancs; a kemény hidegben nem viselhet a kutató rendes bőrcipőt, jó volna kieszelni olyan valami lábbelit, amely amellett, hogy elég meleg, elég erős is, hogy körös-körül szegekkel legyen kiverhető.

Ruházatunk teljesen kielégítőnek bizonyult. Ami az élelmet illeti, bebizonyult, hogy nagyobb fejadagokat kell számításba venni, ha ki akarja harcolni az ember az előnyomulást a déli sarkig. Semmi esetre se vinnék többet sajtot; a csokoládé ízletesebb is és könnyebben is osztható.

Déli csoportunk minden egyes tagjának megvoltak a maguk külön kötelességeik. Adams feladata volt a meteorológiai észlelés, amely egyebek közt a hőmérséklet szabályszerű időközökben való leolvasását is magában foglalta. Marshall állapította meg a nap delelésének magasságát, ő térképezte az új földeket. Az ő feladata volt a legterhesebb, mert a napi menet végén s gyakran a déli ebédszünetkor is, fáradtan kellett ácsorogfna és maró szélben igazgatnia a teodolit csavarjait. A fényképfelvételek javarésze is ő munkája volt.

Wild gondoskodott a szánok és a fölszerelés javításáról, és segített nekem a geológiai megfigyelésekben és gyűjtésekben. Az én kötelességem volt a geológiai munkákon kívül az útirány és a távolságok ellenőrzése, megfigyelések és számítások alapján.

Két naplóm volt: egyikbe a megfigyeléseket, a másikba a napi eseményeket jegyeztem föl. Bár mind a négyen vezettünk naplót, bizony emlékezni se szeretek rá, hogy mily gyakran megesett, hogy elfoglaltságunkban és a nagy hidegek hatása alatt nem fordítottunk rá akkora figyelmet, mint kívánatos lett volna.

HARMINCKETTEDIK FEJEZET.Értünk Jön a Nimrod.

A télen át a Nimrod Lytteltonban, Új-Zélandon vesztegelt. Ez alatt az idő alatt alapos javításon ment keresztül, hogy fölvehesse ismét a harcot a jéggel.

Minthogy England kapitány egészségi okból lemondott, E. P. Evans kapitányra ruháztam a hajó parancsnokságát. Az év vége felé rengeteg új készletet szállítottak a hajóra, annyit, hogy az esetre, ha a szánutazó csoportok valamelyike nem tért volna vissza, áttelelhessen vele egy csoport a Royds-fokon, sőt a hajó egész személyzete is áthúzhassa a telet, ha maga a hajó is a jég fogságába kerülne.

A Nimrod 1908. december elsején szedte fel horgonyait Lytteltonban. Egész útján kedvező idő járt. Evans kapitány tapasztalatai ezen az útján megmutatták, hogy a Nagy Jégfaltól keletre elnyúló jégzaj öve rendes körülmények közt áthatolhatatlan. A Discovery csak azért hatolhatott előre 1902-ben a King Edward-föld láttávoláig, mert

abban az évben kivételesen kedvezők voltak a jégviszonyok. A Royds-foktól 52 kilométerre a hajó szilárd jégbe ütközött, s minthogy arrafelé nem mutatkozott rá mód, hogy a hajó egyhamar áttörhesse a jeget, Evans kapitány elhatározta, hogy Mackintosht három emberrel elküldi a téli szállásra az expedíció leveleszsákjával. Ezt a vállalkozást meglehetősen könnyűnek képzelték, pedig kiderült, hogy nemcsak nehézségekkel, de komoly veszedelmekkel kellett szembeszállniok, amelyek könnyen végzetesekké válhattak volna.

Mackintosh, McGillan, Riches és Paton társaságában 1909. január 3-án kelt útra, de a két utóbbi még aznap délután visszatért a hajóra és Mackintosh McGillannel másodmagával nyomult előre.

Másnap nyílt víz tartóztatta fel őket, s bár két óra hosszat mentek nyugati irányban, hogy lássák, meddig terjed a nyílt víz arrafelé, nem érték el a végét. A jég dél felé mind mozgásban volt. Nem lévén rá mód, hogy eljussanak a Royds-fokra, elindultak vissza a hajóra.

Egyszer csak Mackintosh észreveszi, hogy előttük is nyílt víz csillog, és elzárja az útjukat a hajó felé. Csakhamar rájönnek, hogy a jégtáblák körös-körül mindenfelé összetöredezőben vannak, és komoly a veszély, hogy kisodródnak az átjáró nyílt vizére. Nem volt más menekvés, mint sietve sietni a part felé, keletre, jégtábláról-jégtáblára szökdösve. Nagy erőfeszítéssel ráncigálták át szánjukat maguk után.

Egy órai kínlódás után kezük véresre volt szabdalva, ruhájuk deszkakeménységűre fagyott testükön, mert örökösen belepotyogtak a vízbe. Végre elértek a szárazföld közelébe; az utolsó jégtáblát és a partot gleccserjég hidalta át. A jégtábla gyors mozgásban volt – igyekezniök kellett. Két méteres ugrással szerencsésen partra szöktek. Ideje volt – ha negyedórával később érkeznek, el vannak veszve. Ekkorára már nyílt víz vette át az uralmat.

Ezen a helyen ütötték föl tanyájukat. McGillant hóvakság kínozta – arca úgy megdagadt, hogy a szemeit se tudta kinyitni. Annyira rosszul volt McGillan, hogy társának, Mackintoshnak a baját, aki ugyanebben szenvedett, észre sem vette mindaddig, amíg nem panaszkodott.

Napokig vesztegeltek a tanyahelyen, s mikor szembajuk megenyhült, a környék madárvilágát kezdték tanulmányozni. A hajó csak nem mutatkozott. Mackintosh végül is elhatározta, hogy a súlyos postazsákot itthagyják a sátorban, és elindulnak a Royds-fok felé. És ekkor megkezdődött vég nélküli küzdelmük a hasadékokkal és a rejtett veszedelmek rémével, amelyeket oly jól ismer a sarki kutató. Egy ízben McGillan beleesett egy tátongó hasadékba, és csak a jég egy kiálló csücske mentette meg. Egyetlen csuszamlás véget vetett volna minden földi szenvedésüknek.

Egyszer csak olyan pontra jutottak, ahol útjukat minden irányban hasadékok zárták el. Fölkapaszkodniok már nem lehetett, alattuk meg meredélyes lejtő bukott a mélybe.

Hogy mi volt a száz méteres lejtő aljában, nem tudhatták. Helyzetük kétségbeejtő volt: nem volt más választásuk, mint lecsúszni a meredélyen.

Késük, amelyet fék gyanánt próbáltak használni, kifordult a nyeléből, de vitézül fékeztek a sarkukkal, és végül szerencsésen lejutottak a hólejtő aljára.

Ennivalójuk tisztára elfogyott; az éhenhalás réme fenyegette őket. Két órával később megpillantották a Royds-fokot, és már fölcsillant a reményük, hogy hamarosan révbe érnek.

Ekkor meg olyan sűrű havazás lepte meg őket, hogy az orrukig se láttak. Órákig bukdácsoltak a förgetegben, olykor-olykor percnyi pihenőkkel. Arcuk tele jégcsapokkal – oda se néztek rája.

Huszonhét óráig vándoroltak már vakon a hóviharban, amikor Day rájuk bukkant, végső kimerülésükben; céltalanul botorkáltak, éppen csak mert tudták, hogy a helyben maradás egyértelmű lett volna a halállal.

Ha Day nincs kinn véletlenül a kunyhó előtt, a hajóra leselkedve, ez a könnyű szívvel vállalt küldetés végzetes fordulatot vesz a két utazóra, akik nem is sejtették, hogy a kunyhó közvetlen közelében járnak.

Mackintosh és McGillan 1909. január 12-én érték el a kunyhót. A Nimrod már egy héttel előbb megérkezett a Royds-fokra, de elindult megint északra, hogy az elveszetteket fölkutassa. Társaink a téli szálláson lesújtva hallották a hírt, hogy nemcsak a leveleszsák nincs a hajón, de még két bajtársuk is elhagyta a hajót január 3-án, azzal a céllal, hogy a tenger jegén és az öblön át gyorsabban hozhassák meg a leveleket – az öblön át, amelyen laza jégzaj imbolyog, és amely napokkal előbb nyílt víz volt még.

Január 7-én a Nimrod újból elhagyta a Royds-fokot, a két vándor fölkutatására. Néhány órával később befagyott a jégbe, és kilenc napon keresztül nem szabadult fogságából. 16-án délután áttörte a jeget és közeledett a partvonalnak egyetlen pontja felé, ahol remény lehetett rá, hogy megtalálják Mackintosht és McGillant. A part közelében valami zöldes színű foltot fedeztek föl; messzelátón át kiderült, hogy elhagyott tanyahely és egy darabokra szabdalt sátor. Azonnal partra küldtek egy csónakot, fölfedezték a leveleszsákot és Mackintosh levelét, amelyben elbeszéli, hogy nekivág a hegynek.

Murray, aki ismerte a szóban forgó tájat, és tudta róla mily rémítő szakadékos a vidék, alig remélte, hogy valaha előkerülnek.

Képzelhető hát az öröm a Nimrod fedélzetén, amikor a Royds-fokra érkezve két ember jön a hajó elé, és ezek egyike – McGillan.

HARMINCHARMADIK FEJEZET.A nyugati csoport.

align="justify">Hogy Joyce és társai, Mackintosh, Day és Martin, mily kitűnően megoldották feladatukat az élelmiszerek elhelyezésével a Minna Blufftól 25 kilométerre, s mily boldogan találtak rá a depóra a déli sark vándorai: már elbeszéltük.

Joyce kétszer fordult. Először január 15-én hagyta el a téli szállást és 31-én érkezett vissza a Hut Pointra. Másodszor is útrakelt újabb rakománnyal – más útitársakkal – és február 8-án újból kinn volt a depónál.

Második megérkezésükkor már meglepetve látta, hogy a déli csoport nem mutatkozik. Napokon át kémlelte messzelátóval a déli látóhatárt, abban a reményben, hogy rábukkanik a kimerült utazókra.

Tizenegy nappal tovább vártak, mint amely időpont meg volt határozva csoportunk visszatérésére; akkor elhatározták, hogy lobogót tűznek ki, közelebb a Minna Bluff szirtjeihez, hogy mindenképpen észrevegyük az eleségraktárt, és ezenfelül elindultak déli irnyban, hogy szembetalálkozzanak velünk. Mint ismeretes, nem találkoztunk – mi még messze jártunk akkor. Eredménytelenül érkeztek vissza a depóhoz, ahol mindent érintetlenül találtak.

Komor sejtelmekkel telve indultak vissza 16-án a téli szállás felé. A déli csoport 18 napi késéssel érte el a Bluff közelében elhelyezett megváltó eleségraktárt. Társaink, ha nem találtak is ránk, megmentették életünket.

Ugyanabban az időben, amikor Adams, Marshall, Wild és én a déli sark országútján vívtuk harcainkat: a nyugati csoport is útban volt a nyugati hegyek között.

A nyugati csoport – Armytage, Priestley és Brocklehurst – december 9-én hagyták el a téli szállást és négy nappal később érték el a "zátonyra került morénákat". Ezeket a morénákat – egykori messzebb terjedő eljegesedés tanúságait – a Discovery-expedíció fedezte föl. A kőzeteknek ez a változatos gyűjteménye rendkívül érdekes.

Ugyanott sirálytojásokat is találtak az utazók. De a lakoma, amelyre már fenték a fogukat, meglehetősen szegénvesen ütött ki. Mindössze tizenkét tojás volt "ehető állapotban". A többi tojás széjjel volt szórva a havon a sátor közelében. A sirályok nem elégedtek meg vele, hogy megegyék a tojásokat, hanem bosszúságunkra odasereglettek és folyton lábatlankodtak a szán és készletek körül.

A csoport értékes geológiai gyűjteményre tett szert. Karácsonykor, mint az már szokásos hasonló expedíciókon, különleges lakomát csaptak.

Hogy Priestley mennyire élvezte ezt a lakomát, kitűnik a naplójából. Így ír róla: "A plum pudding fölséges volt. Nem szabad elfelejteni, hogy odaadjam az egyik homokkövet Wildnak a új-zélandi lány számára, akitől a plum puddingot kapta."

Ez a csoport kutatott a másik csoport után, amelyik a mágneses sark keresésére indult, de minthogy nem bukkant nyomára, január 14-én visszatért a tanyára, és sátort ütött. Ott várt az északi csoportra 25-éig. Ekkor már csak két lehetőség volt számukra. Vagy visszaindulnak a téli szállásra, vagy jelt adnak fényjelzéssel a hajóra.

24-én azonban az egész csapat sokkal közelebb állt hozzá, hogy sem a téli szállást, sem a hajót nem látja viszont. A Butter Point (Vaj-fok) lábánál, a tengerjégen tanyáztak. Minden jel arra vallott, hogy biztonságban vannak. Armytage megvizsgálta a dagály okozta repedést a part mentén és nem talált semmi gyanúsat. A jég mindenütt szilárdnak tetszett.

24-én kora reggel azonban Priestley, aki elsőnek bújt ki a sátorból, váratlanul kiesett ebből a biztonságérzetből, amely barátját úgy eltöltötte. Fölfedezte, hogy a jég, amelyen tanyáznak, fölszakadt és északnak úszik a nyílt tenger felé. Egyszeriben beszólt a társainak, azok lélekszakadva jöttek s meggyőződtek róla, hogy Priestley-nek bizony igaza van. Máris háromnégy kilométerre jártak a parttól, és minden jel arra vallott, hogy állandóan távolodnak.

"Amikor észrevettük" – írja Armytage – "hogy a jég útban van a nyílt tenger felé, fölpakoltuk a szánt és elindultunk, hátha sikerül észak felé leszabadulni a jégtábláról. A helyzet meglehetős komoly volt – nem mutatkozott rá mód, hogy a jégben támadt csatornákon átjuthassunk a hajóról pedig segítséget nem várhattunk. Élelmiszereink nagyobb része még a Butter Pointon volt. Nem jártunk még messze, amikor áthatolhatatlan nyílt csatorna állta utunkat. Tanyát ütöttünk, és 11 órakor megreggeliztünk."

Azután a három utazó várt egy ideig a véletlen jószerencsére, hátha fölbukkanik a hajó valamelyik nyílt csatornában és fölveszi őket, avagy hátha parthoz sodródik megint a jégtábla. Négy aggodalmas óra múltával még mindig semmi változás. A csatornákban kardszárnyú delfinek ütötték föl fejüket, vízsugarakat lövellve, olykor meg a jégtáblát döngetve alulról, hatalmas hátukkal.

Nem késlekedhetvén tovább, körüljárták a jégtáblát, de mindenfelől nyílt vízre találtak. Este 10 órára visszakerültek eredeti helyükre. Mindössze az volt megnyugtató, hogy nyilván megrekedt a jégtábla – már nem mozog észak felé. Mintha valamivel közelebb is lettek volna a szilárd jéghez.

Kevéssel később Brocklehurst kibújt a sátorból, hogy megnézze, nem változtatta-e helyét az úszó jégtábla; jelentette, hogy a jégtábla közeledik a szilárd parti jéghez, és már csak néhány száz lépés nyire van tőle. Félórával később Armytage kelt föl. Akkor már csak kétszáz lépés választotta el őket a szilárd jégtől.

"Amilyen gyorsan csak bírtam, futottam vissza a többiekhez" – írja – "jelenteni, hogy a partrajutás sikerrel biztat. Messziről kiáltottam nekik. Azok szedték sátorfájukat, percek alatt fölrakodtak, én meg azalatt visszamentem a jégtábla

szélére, arra a helyre, amelyre a véletlen vitt az előbb. Éppen abban a pillanatban, amikor a szán utolért, hallom, hogy a jágtábla a szilárd jéghez ütődik. Csak vagy két lépésnyi szélességben érintette a jégtábla a parti jeget, de mi éppen ott voltunk, és kirohantunk az így keletkezett hídon. Alig értünk szilárd talajra, a jégtábla elindult megint, ezúttal észak felé, ki a nyílt tengerre. Az egyetlen pont, ahol a szilárd jeget érintette, az volt, ahová első ízben mentem, amikor elhagytam a sátrat. Ha véletlenül bármely más pontra megyek – elvesztünk."

Ez után a gondviselésszerű menekülés után a csoport folytatta útját a Butter Pointra, és hajnalban 3 órakor tanyát ütött. Amikor néhány órára rá fölébredtek, nyílt víz csillogott a jégtábla helyén – és a Nimrod is fölbukkant néhány kilométerre.

Jelzést adtak a hajóra, és délután ismét biztonságban voltak a Nimrod hajón. Előbb azonban élelmiszert és olajat hagytak hátra a Butter Pointon, arra az esetre, – ha az északi csoport arra a helyre találna visszatérni.

Január vége felé megritkult a szép napok száma; a nyár előrehaladt, következésképpen a McMurdo-öbölben maradt jég egyre jobban fölszakadozott és laza jégzaj alakjában elúszott észak felé.

A téli szálláson is, a hajón is nyugtalanságot okazott a még késlekedő csoportok elmaradása, mert közeledett az idő, amikor a Nimrodnak útra kellett kelnie észak felé, ha nem akar végleg itt rekedni télire. És még mind az északi, mind a déli csoport odajárt a bizonytalanban.

Annak idején azt az utasítást kapta a hajó, hogy ha február elsején az északi csoport nem mutatkozik, a nyugati part mentén induljon észak felé keresésükre.

Evans kapitány tehát a Nimroddal előrnyomult észak felé, hogy kikutassa a partokat. Ez a nyomozás nehéz és veszedelmes volt, mert partközelben kellett maradni, hogy semmi esetleges jeladás el ne kerülje figyelmét. A tengert pedig belepte a jégzaj. A műveletet, amelyről Evans kapitány később azt írta, hogy "némi hajózási nehézségekkel" volt egybekötve, a Nimrod a legnagyobb alapossággal dicséretesen végrehajtotta.

HARMINCNEGYEDIK FEJEZET.Az északi csoportnak adott utasítások.

Az északi csoportnak David egyetemi tanár volt a parancsnoka. Útitársai voltak Douglas Mawson és Alistair Mackay. Az exedíció történetét David professzor fogja elbeszélni az alábbi fejezetekben. Elöljáróban hadd foglaljuk össze főbb pontjaiban az expedíciónak adott végleges írásbeli utasításokat:

"Kedves Uram," –.. írtam hozzá intézett levelemben – "a téli szállásról 1908. október elsején, vagy az időtájt kell indulnia. Útjának fő céljai a következők:

(1) Mágnességi megfigyelések minden alkalmas ponton, avégből, hogy a mágneses sark irányát és helyzetét meghatározza. Ha az időből futja, fölszerelés és készletek engedik, megkísérlendő a mágneses sark elérése.

(2) A Victoria-föld általános geológiai fölvétele. Ez a munka azonban nem szabad, hogy gátolja Önt a déli mágneses sark elérésében.

(3) Különösen kívánatos, hogy módjában legyen a Nyugati hegység geológiai föltárása, úgyszintén, hogy Mawson legalább két hetet töltsön a Dry-völgyben, gazdasági értékű ásványok kutatása céljából. Ez a munka a visszatérő útban hajtandó végre. Nem kívánom megszabni a pontos időpontot a Dry-völgybe való visszatérésre, ha úgy véli, hogy az északon való tartózkodás megnyújtásával a mágneses sark elérhető. Ennek a völgynek alapos kikutatását azonban elsőrangú fontosságú feladatnak tekintem.

(4) A Nimrod visszatérése a McMurdo-átjáróba 1909. január 15-e körül várható. Ha a hajó még nem érkezett meg, avagy nem veszi észre az Ön jeladásait, vessen számot eleségkészletével, és ahhoz képest vonuljon előre vagy a Gleccsernyelvhez vagy a Hut Pointhoz, ha a Butter Pointon nincs elég élelmiszere.

(5) A Butter Pointon legalább két heti eleséget és megfelelő olajat fog találni.

(6) A Nimrod parancsnokát utasítani fogom, hogy nyomuljon előre a nyugati parton a legalkalmasabban megközelíthető pontig, és ott vegye föl hajójára az Ön gyűjteményeit.

(7) Ha február elsején – a Nimrod megérkezése után – semmi nyoma nem lenne annak, hogy az Ön csoportja visszatért, a Nimrod előre fog nyomulni a part mentén észak felé, hogy az Ön esetleges jeladását figyelemmel kísérje.

(8) Ha önt valami baj érné, Mawson veszi át a parancsnokságot.

(9) Bízom benne, hogy utazása eredményes lesz és szerencsésen visszatér.

Készséges híve

(aláírás) Ernest H. Shackleton,parancsnok."         

Az utasításokon felül még egy levelet intéztem David tanárhoz:

"Kedves Uram, ha eléri a mágneses déli sarkot, a brit lobogót tűzze ki, és vegye birtokba a környéket expedíciónk nevében a brit nemzet számára.

A Nyugati hegységben jártában cselekedjék ugyanígy, és vegye birtokba a Victoria-földet, mint a brit birodalom tartozékát.

Ha gazdasági értékű ásványokat talál, vegye birtokba a vidéket hasoló módon az én nevemben, mint ennek az expedíciónak parancsnoka nevében.

Kész híve

(aláírás) Ernest H. Shackleton,parancsnok."         

Ezt a levelet 1908. szeptember 20-án kelteztem, és ugyanezen a napon búcsúebédet adtunk az északi csoport tiszteletére.

HARMINCÖTÖDIK FEJEZET.Elindulunk a déli mágneses sark felé.

(David professzor elbeszélése.)*

Első teendő az volt, hogy élelmiszerkészleteket helyezzünk el. Ezért tehát – a rossz idő miatt megkésve – 1908. szeptember 25-én Priestley, Day és magam elindultunk a motoros kocsival és mögéje akasztott két megrakott szánnal a jégen keresztül.

Egyik szánunk rakományostul 275 kilogrammot nyomott, a másik 114 kilogrammot. 26 kilométeres óránkénti sebességgel eredtünk útnak, nagy ámulatára a fókáknak és pingvineknek. A motoros kocsit és Dayt – egyetlen hivatott kezelőjét – ért baleset kovetkeztében azonban csak október 5-én indulhattunk végleg. Ezen a napon Brocklehurst lefényképezte az északi csoportot, és kisvártatva fölkapaszkodtunk a kocsira és az otthon maradók nagy éljenzése közben útnak indultunk.

* Innen kezdve David tollából való.

Amíg a motoros kocsi velünk volt, Day, Priestley és Roberts is elkísértek; de alig haladtunk négy-öt kilométert, olyan mély hóba kerültünk, hogy bölcsebbnek láttam a kocsit visszaküldeni. Ettől fogva hárman maradtunk: Mawson, Mackay és én. Befogva magunkat a gyaloghámba, nekifeküdtünk a kötélnek: "egy, kettő, három, in-dulj!" vezényszóra nekivágtunk a tenger jegén át hosszú utunknak.

Másnap reggel megkezdődött a részletekben valo szállítás keserves művelete. Először a súlyosabbik szánt vonszoltuk előre vagy egy kilométerre. Különös óvatossággal kellett bánnunk vele, hogy le ne vesszen róla valami. Ezt a szánt a karácsonyfáról neveztük el, mert rajta volt rakományaink közt szerény karácsonyfánk. Aztán visszamentünk a másikért, amelynek a "Plum Duff szán" nevet adtuk. Ezen a szánon főként élelmiszereinket szállítottuk.

Este, egy "fóka-lék" közelében ütöttünk tanyát, ahol a fókák följárnak a jég alól a levegőre, lélegzetet venni. Nem volt szerencsés gondolat, mert a fókák horkoló hangja és ugatása zavart alvásunkban. Weddell-fókák voltak.

De a fókák lármája még csak elviselhető volt a császárpingvinekéhez képest, "akik" reggel, 10-én hangos zajongással riasztottak fel álmunkból. Nyilván a mi sátrunk csodájára jöttek az éjszaka folyamán. Hangjukat valahogy úgy kellene jellemezni, hogy középütt van a lúdgágogás és a kookaburra hangja között.

Négy császárpingvin ácsorgott reggel a szánok körül. Amikor észrevettek, nagy érdeklődéssel méregettek szemükkel és élénk beszélgetésbe fogtak. Semmi kétség, hogy valami alsórangú pingvineknek néztek, sátrunkat pedig – fészeknek. Akárhogy is, szép tőlük, hogy olyan apróra érdeklődtek viselt dolgaink iránt, és hangos szóval búcsuztattak, amikor fölkerekedtünk.

A nap folyamán hátunkba fújt a szél, növekvő erővel. Nagy könnyebbségünkre volt ez a segítség: így egyszerre továbbíthattuk szánjainkat. Csábított a kedvező helyzet és tovább is mentünk a kelleténél: a szél viharrá növekedett, és végül alig birtuk kifeszíteni sátrunkat. Vadul kavargott a hó, és boldogan bújtunk be a sátorba a csontig maró szélrohamok elől.

Egész éjjel és a rákövetkező nap dühöngött a hóvihar. Jórészt hálózsákjainkban vártuk ki ezt az időt.

13-án megérkeztünk a Butter Pointra, és ott elraktároztunk mintegy 30 kilogramm eleséget és leveleket hagytunk hátra Shackleton és Priestley számára. Tudattuk, hogy a Royds-fokról való kései indulás a hátráltató körülmények folytán nem remélhető, hogy a Butter Pointra január 12-e előtt visszaérkezzünk, vagyis egy héttel később fogunk visszatérni, mint ahogyan számítottuk. Hónapokkal utóbb hallottam, hogy a kis depó túlélte a viharokat, és Armytage, Priestley és Brocklehurst olvasták leveleinket.

Néhány napra rá partra léptünk a Bernacchi-fokon, és október 17-én kitűztük a Union Jacket, és birtokba vettük a Dél-Victoria földet a brit birodalom nevében.

A Bernacchi-fok geológiája roppant érdekes; uralkodó kőzete egy tiszta fehér, érdesen kristályos márvány, gránittal áttörve, amely utóbbiban helyenkint apró vörös szemcsék vannak.

A következő nap elértünk egy hegyfokot. A kőzetek emlékeztettek a Bernacchi-fok kőzeteire. Mawson úgy hiszi, hogy a kvarc-erek némelyike, úgy lehet, aranytartalmú.

Estére meglepett a hóvakság, mert nem voltam elég gondos a hószemüveg viselésében. Reggel megkértem Mawsont, foglalja el ő a helyemet a hosszú kötél elején, és vezessen ő. Olyan kiváló vezető volt, annyira értett hozzá, hogy kiválassza a legkedvezőbb utat, hogy kérésemre utunk hátralévő részében mindvégig ő maradt elöl mint útmutató.

Eseménytelen napok következtek. 23-án már nyilvánvalóvá vált, hogy ezzel a mi 6–7 kilométeres napi átlagunkkal nem járhatjuk meg a mágneses sarkot január elejéig. Tanácsot ültünk, mit tegyünk. Ezzel az időrabló ide-oda járással – a szánok egyenként való vontatásával – semmire se jutunk. Fölvetettem az eszmét, hogy a legcélravezetőbbnek tetszik az a módszer, amit Shackleton követett: át kell térnünk a napi fél fejadagra, s az élelmiszer tekintélyes részét minél előbb hátrahagyni.

Némi vita után Mawson és Mackay hozzájárultak ebhez a megoldáshoz. Elhatároztuk, hogy még néhány napig gondolkodunk a dolgon és akkor hagyjuk hátra a készletek megfelelő részét.

Északnyugat felé tartva elhaladtunk egy nagyszerű öböl előtt, amely tíz-tizenkét kilométerre hajlott el nyugatra a mi útvonalunktól. Mindkét oldalán felséges sziklás hegyláncok, közöttük az öböl mélyén hatalmas gleccser, meredek jégesésekkel.

A gleccser mindkét szélén magas sziklateraszok nyúltak hátra kilométerekre egy új képződésű völgy szélétől a háttér magasabb hegyláncainak lábáig. Szemmel látható volt, hogy ezek a teraszok a régi völgyek szintjeit jelölik abból az időből, amikor a gleccser száz meg száz méterrel magasabb és talán húsz kilométerrel is szélesebb volt, mint amikor mi láttuk.

Szerettük volna kikutatni a szárazföld belsejének a kőzeteit, de időnk nagyon is drága volt ehhez. Később rájöttnk, hogy az a fok, amellyel szembe eljutottunk volt, valójában a Granite-öböl egyik foka. Az öblöt a térkép nem pontosan tünteti föl.

Október 29-én este a megszokott 6–7 kilométeres utunk kiharcolása után tökéletesen agyon voltunk hajszolva. Megvitattuk a kérdést, nem lehetne-e kipótolni eleségünket fókahússal és ilyen módon elkerülni a szűkebbre szorított adagokat. Mind a hárman egyetértőleg kimondottuk, hogy így kell cselekednünk. A főkérdés az volt már most, hogyan főzzük meg a fókahúst paraffinolaj nélkül, mert olajunkból nem futotta erre a célra. Más ilyen főzési problémáink is voltak.

Mackay tanácsára másnap kísérletet tettünk az előző napi kifőzött tealevél másodszori használatával, hogy erősebb főzetet kapjunk. A régi tealevelet a frissel együtt beletettük a forró vízbe. Mawsonnak és nekem eleinte nem tetszett az eszme, de később örültünk az újításnak. Az időjárás megenyhült és ennek folytán a tengerjég sós hava tapadóssá vált és megragasztotta a szántalpat, akárcsak az enyv. Csigalassúsággal is csak a legnagyobb megerőltetéssel bírtuk vonszolni a szánt.

Jóllehet tökéletesen kimerülve ütöttünk tanyát 30-án, a vacsora annyira fölélénkített, hogy átsétáltunk egy kis szigetre, jó egy kilométerre. A sziget csodálatos helynek bizonyult a geológus számára és tökéletes paradicsom volt a mineralógusnak.

Ezen a szigeten, amelyet később Depot Islandnek neveztünk el, Mawson talált egy áttetsző barna ásványt, amelyről kiderült, hogy titánium.

HARMINCHATODIK FEJEZET.A Jégsáncon keresztül.

Tanácskozásaink még mindig a körül a kérdés körül forogtak: hogyan juthatnánk el a mágneses sarkig.

November elsején kimondottuk, hogy innen kezdve egészen addig, amíg el nem érjük a parton – a Drygalski-gleccser közelében – azt a pontot, ahonnan majd befelé vehetjük utunkat a szárazföld belsejébe: eleségünket féladagra szorítjuk. Mawson úgy ítélte, hogy hat heti szárazföldi útra kell számítanunk teljes fejadaggal. Ez azt jelentette, hogy idestova 170 kilométeres utat kell megtennünk koplalva, félporción.

Amíg én az időt és távolságot számítgattam utunk hátralevő részére, Mawson és Mackay a fókahús főzésével kísérleteztek – fókazsír-égetéssel, olaj helyett. A téli szálláson Mackay már megpróbálkozott a fókazsír tüzeléssel, de kísérleteit nem vettük komolyan, és különben is, sajnos, a fókazsírlámpát nem hoztuk magunkkal.

Addig-addig, hogy kimesterkedtek valahogy egy új szerkezetű fókazsírfőző kályhát; egy nagy kétszersültes bádogból fabrikálták. A leves, amely ezen a kályhán főtt fókahúsból, nyilván igen tápláló lehetett, de én nem bírtam megemészteni.

Mawson még mindig a kályhával foglalatoskodott, amikor Mackay és én fölkapaszkodtunk a sziget legmagasabb pontjára, hogy alkalmas helyet keressünk, ahol "kőbabát" (cairn) állítsunk fel depónk megjelölésére. Mackay hozzá is fogott a kőrakás felépítéséhez.

Azzal persze tisztában voltunk, eddigi keserves tapasztalásainkból, hogy mire visszakerülünk a mágneses sarkról, alighanem fölenged a tenger jege. Elhatároztuk, hogy vállaljuk a kockázatot, hogy a Nimrod nem vár be és visszatér a Royds-fokra; onnan majd visszaindul utasítása szerint a nyugati part mentén észak felé, hogy bennünket fölkutasson. Ezzel persze az a súlyos kockázat is járt, hogy sem miránk, sem depónkra nem bukkan reá.

Tudtuk jól, hogy vállalkozásunk veszedelmes, de éreztük, hogy olyan messzire jutottunk a ránk bízott feladat végrehajtásában, hogy erkölcsi lehetetlenség meghátrálnunk.

Ilyen körülmények között megírtuk tehát búcsúleveleinket azoknak, akik a legdrágábbak és legkedvesebbek szívünknek, és másnap reggel fél ötkor beletettük a leveleket egy légmentesen záródó üres tejkonzerves dobozba, fölsétáltunk a "kőbabához", és húrral és rézsodronnyal hozzákötöttük a dobozt a lobogó rúdjához.

Ugyanott hagytunk néhány tarisznyát tele geológiai gyűjtésünkkel. Megkevesbedett teherrel készen álltunk a déli mágneses sarkra vivő útunkra.

A szokottnál későbbi órában keltünk útra, a hó feszíne már fölengedett a napmelegtől. Keserves lassúsággal haladtunk előre. Oly borzalmasan fárasztó volt vánszorgásunk, hogy 3–4 kilométeres út után tanyát ütöttünk azzal az elhatározással, hogy éjfélkor idulunk tovább. Reméltük, hogy éjjel nem lesz olyan tapadós a hó.

A kísérlet bevált. November 5-én rendkívül érdekes kép tárult föl szemünk előtt: szemben álltunk a Granite Harbourral, az öböltől 30–40 kilométerre észak felé.

Ez este avattuk föl az új sütőserpenyőt, Mawson leleményes találmányát. Üres paraffinos bádogból alakította. Mawson szakácskodása általában mind nagyobb sikereket aratott.

Ekkortájban sokszor találkoztunk darabos, összetöredezett jégfelszínnel. Tapasztaltuk, hogy ez a fajta jég igen gyakori a jéghegyek közelében. Azt hiszem ez a darabos jég a viharos időkben alakul, amikor a meg-megmerülő jéghegyek széjjelszabdalják a tenger jegét maguk körül. A letöredezett tengerjég persze újból összefagy és a teteje tele van élekkel és csúcsokkal.

Reggelire és a vacsorákhoz ekkor már csak egy-egy darab plasmon-kétszersült jutott. Utunk kezdetén meggondolatlanul fogyasztottuk, ügyet se vetve a törmelékre. Bezzeg most gondosan összekapartuk a legapróbb törmelék-kétszersültet.

Eseméytelen napok következtek. Majd mindig éhesek voltunk és esténkint kimerülten ütöttünk tanyát. 9-én felvidított a Nordenskjöld-jégsánc felbukkanása messze észak felé. Nyugtalan érdeklődéssel néztünk elébe, milyen lesz a jég felszíne ezen a nagy gleccseren.

A haditengerészet térképe szerint, amely a Discovery-expedíció megfigyelései alapján készült, a gleccser szélessége 44 és 55 kilométer között váltakozik, és 36 kilométernél nagyobb hosszúságban nyúlik be a sziklás partról a tengerbe. Reméltük, átvághatunk rajta, és nem kell majd a tengerbe benyúló nyelvét megkerülni.

Két nappal később elértük a jégsáncot. Mawson bizonyos észlelések céljából helyben maradt, mi ketten azalatt Mackay-vel megvizsgáltuk a gleccsert, hogy alkalmas átjáró helyet keressünk rajta.

Visszatértünkkor elmondhattuk Mawsonnak a jó újságot, hogy a jégfal szánnal egészen jól járható, meg beszámolt a maga megfigyelésének eredményéről, amely szerint a mágneses sark valószínűleg mintegy 60–70 kilométerre van beljebb a szárazföld belseje felé, mint ahogyan azt a hét évvel korábbi Discovery-expedíció mágnességi megfigyeléseiből elméleti alapon számították.

12-én kora reggel felszedelőzködtünk és elindultunk, hogy átszeljük a jégsáncot. Másodnap alig tettünk meg még vagy ezer lépést, amikor Mawson hirtelen elkiáltja magát, hogy látja is a jégsánc fehér szirtben végződő végét, alig fél kilométerre maga előtt.

Megálltunk. Mawson szögméréseket végzett teodolittal, én pedig elindultam utat keresni a szirtfalon, de eredménytelenül. Másodszori terepszemlére találtunk egy hófúvásból eredő meredek lejtőt, amelyen hegymászókötéllel leereszthettük könnyű szánunkat. Mackay ereszkedett le elsőnek, kezében csákányával, derekára kötözött kötéllel. A kötél végét mi ketten tartottuk.

A hó elég biztos támaszt nyújtott a lábnak, és Mackay csakhamar lent volt meredély alján anélkül, hogy a kötél segítségét igénybe vette volna. Amikor újra fölkapaszkodott hozzánk, hozzáfogtunk a szánk terhének lerakásához, és az egyik szánt könnyű teherrel lassan, óvatosan leeresztettük a lejtőn; egyikünk igazgatta a szánt, mi többiek meg eresztettük lefelé a kötélen. Amelyikünk a szánnal ment, a mélybe leérve, lerakta a rakományt a tengerjégre, újra fölmászott, és ez alatt a másik kettő előkészítette az üres szánt. Ezt a műveletet megismételtük még egynéhányszor, míg csak minden rakományunk biztonságban nem volt. Örültünk, hogy ilyen hamar sikerült túlkerülnünk a gleccsernyelv akadályán. Azt hiszem, alig kétséges, hogy ez a Nordenskjöld-barrier szabadon lebeg a vízen.

Másnap természetesen igyekeztünk mielőbb pontosan meghatározni helyzetünket a térképen, tekintve, hogy vagy 32 kilométerrel előbb bukkantunk rá a jégfal végére, mint vártuk volna a térkép alapján. Mawson tehát megállapította a meridián magasságát, én meg azalatt kimértem, meghatároztam az Erebus, a Lister és a Melbourne-hegy szögtávolságait.

Számításaim eredményéből nyilvánvaló lett, hogy szemben voltunk azzal az öböllel, amelyet Scott kapitány térképe Charcot-öbölnek nevez, vagyis mintegy 35 kilométerrel közelebb észak felé, mint hittük. Ez pompás újság volt és nagyon fölvidított.

Még az éjjel fölkerekedtünk és délután aludtunk. Amikor este nyolckor kibújtunk hálózsákjainkból, az égen tökéletes "Noé bárkáját" – párhuzamos fodros felhőket – pillantottunk meg. A Ross-tenger nyílt vize fölött is gyapjúszerű párafelhő terült széjjel, sűrű gomolyokban. A nyílt víz közellétére vallott ez a jelenség. Igyekeznünk kellett gyors menetben tovább, ha el akartuk érni a tengerjég teljes fölszakadása előtt a partnak azt a pontját, ahonnan előre akarunk nyomulni a mágneses sark felé.

Továbbra is nehezen járható térszín akadályozott, és csak végtelen lassúsággal vergődtünk előre.

24-én közel álltunk a végkimerüléshez. Átkoztam a napot, amikor a hármas hálózsákot választottam a külön-külön hálózsákok helyett. A közös hálózsákban rossz alvás esik. Az ember szorosan be van ékelve horkoló társai mellé, és minden mozdulat zavarja a másikat. A tudat, hogy mozgolódásunkkal fölriasztjuk szomszédunkat, nyugtalanítóbb, mint ha bennünket ébresztenek föl.

HARMINCHETEDIK FEJEZET.A Drygalski-gleccser.

November 26-án Mawsonnal megmásztam egy sziklás hegyfokot. A tetőről nagyszerű kép tárult elénk a tengerjég síkján keresztül, mélyen alattunk.

De bármily megragadó volt is a látvány, nem sok örömünk telt benne, mert a parttól néhány kilométerre óriási jéghegy terpeszkedett, belefagyva a jégmezőbe. A jéghegy egyenesen keresztbe feküdt azon az útvonalon, amerre másnap vándorolni készültünk.

Északnyugatra volt tőlünk a Geikie-öböl, és túl rajta, ameddig a szem ellát, nyúlt el a hatalmas Drygalski-jégár. Riadtan figyeltük meg messzelátónkkal, hogy ennek a jégárnak a felszíne merőben más forma, mint a Nordenskjöld jégsáncé.

A Drygalski-jégár felszíne szemmelláthatólag össze-vissza hasadozott, élesre szabdalt jég, s csak szélső keleti végén, talán ötven kilométerre tőlünk, mutatkozott simább felület.

Abból, amit láttunk, ha kelet felé tekintettünk le a tengerre, nyilvánvaló volt, hogy nagy víztükrök terjengenek, hosszú csatornák alakjában, nem messze tőlünk, a part irányában. A csatornák csak itt-ott voltak befagyva; egyes ilyen befagyott helyeket láttunk köztünk és a Drygalski gleccser között.

Pillanat veszteni való időnk sem volt, ha el akartuk érni a gleccsert, mielőtt fölszakad végleg a tenger jege; egyetlen heves vihar megmozdíthatja a jeget és úszó jégtömeggé változtathatja.

Teljes erőnkből igyekeznünk kellett. 28-án, kínos vonszolás után elérkeztünk egy pontra, ahonnan jó ideig úgy látszott, egy lépést se tehetünk többet észak felé. Valahogy mégis csak találtunk egy helyet, ahol a jég elég erősnek látszott, hogy esetleg megbírjon bennünket. Jéghasábokkal és néhány lapát hóval megszilárdítottuk a jeget, és bátran ráhajtottunk szánjainkkal. A jég meghajlott alattunk, de végül is szerencsésen átjutottunk. Mackay beleszakadt néhányszor, s kis híja, hogy rajta nem vesztett.

Azután útirányunkra merőlegesen futó szélvájta mélyedések nehezítették meg haladásunkat, majd meg olyan jégre jutottunk, amely örökösen ropogott lépteink alatt, mintha ostor csattant volna.

Ekkortájban másról se folyt a szó, mint süteményekről meg gyümölcsfélékről; nagyon vékonyan volt a kétszersültünk és nélkülöztünk.

A nap, amelynek a melege délután tapadóssá tette a jeget, másfelől könnyebbségünkre volt. Azt tapasztaltam, hogy ha havat teszek alumínium főzőedényünkbe, és kiteszem a napra, néhány óra alatt felerészben megolvad a hó. Ilyen módon olajat is, fókazsírt is megtakarítottunk.

30-án a szélvájta barázdák mélyebbekre és meredekebbre váltak – alig-alig bírtuk átvonszolni rajtuk a szánokat, föl a meredek jeges lejtőkön.

A gleccser a halványzöld jég hullámos tengereként terült el előttünk, hellyel-közzel márványszerű oromhó magas gátjaival. Szerencsétlenségünkre ezek a vasúti töltésekre emlékeztető gátak csaknem merőlegesen nyúltak el utunk irányára, és mentől tovább haladtunk, annál magasabbra nőttek.

Az egyre meredekebbre váló firngátakat tíz-tizenöt méter magasságú szilárd hószirtek koronázták, amelyek valósággal a függőlegesen is túlhajlottak. Az északnak néző szirtek és a mély szakadékok súlyos akadályokat gördítettek utunkba; többnyire csak hatalmas kerülővel tudtuk legyőzni őket.

December küzdelmes nappal kezdődött. Órák hosszat tartó megfeszített munkával alig jutottunk ezer lépésnyire. El is határoztuk, hogy tanyát ütünk. Mawson mágnességi megfigyeléseket végzett, mi ketten megpróbáltuk, hogy kiutat keressünk a mély szakadékoknak ebből az útvesztőjéből.

Ezen a délutánon töviről-hegyire megvitattuk helyzetünket. A Drygalski-gleccser minden valószínűség szerint legalább 30 kilométer széles. Ha az eddigi tempóban haladunk – napjában másfél kilométert – húsz napunkba kerül, míg átverekedjük rajta magunkat, ha ugyan valami előre nem látható akadály föl nem merül, amire eddigi tapasztalataink alapján bizton számíthattunk. Abból, amit Mackay és én láttunk, a nehézségek növekedésére kellett elkészülnünk inkább, mintsem csökkenésére.

Ilyen körülmények között, sajnálkozva bár, ki kellett mondanunk a határozatot, hogy visszavonulunk. Csakis így lehetett reményünk a végső sikerre. Elindultunk tehát a szánokkal azon az úton, amelyen jöttünk – vissza a tenger jegére.

HARMINCNYOLCADIK FEJEZET.Hasadékok.

December 2-án kora reggel kezdtük meg visszavonulásunkat. A Mackay-gleccserrel vívott egy heti küzdelem után, 9-én, éppen, mikor tanyát ütni készülnyílt vizet pillantottunk meg a Drygalski-jégár északi végénél, öt-hat kilométerre magunk előtt. Ez a látvány meggyőzött róla, hogy nem számíthatunk rá, hogy a befagyott tengeren vontathatjuk szánunkat a partnak addig a pontjáig, ahol utolsó élelmiszerraktárunkat akartuk hátrahagyni, mielőtt megkíséreljük a nagy szárazföldi fennsík megmászását, amelyen a mágneses sarkra előrenyomulni készültünk.

10-én este örömünkre a térszín nem volt többé olyan jellemzően gleccserszerű, inkább a Nagy-jégperem hullámos síkjára emlékeztetett. A felszínnek ez a javulása lehetővé tette, hogy nyugat felé csapjunk. Másnap pompás képben tárult fől előttünk a Terra Nova-öböl. A Drygalski-jégsánc széle, amennyire meg lehetett ítélni, nem volt távolabb egy-két kilométernél észak felé.

Amit láttunk, meglepően eltért attól, amit a tengernagyi hivatal térképe alapján vártunk ettől a vidéktől. A szokottnál hamarabb sátrat ütöttünk, hogy terepszemlét tartsunk, Mackay messzelátóval elindult egy szembetűnő jégsánchoz, északnyugat felé; Mawson

lemezeket rakott a fényképezőgépbe, én meg vázlatkönyvemmel jártam kinn, hogy lerajzoljam a hatalmas parti hegylánc körvonalainak a képét.

Utóbbi időben olyan ritka volt már a hasadék a jégben, hogy jégcsákányomat nem is vittem magammal. Alig léptem hatot a sátortól, beszakadt alattam egy hasadék, és csaknem vállig belezuhantam. Csak úgy mentettem meg magamat, hogy hirtelen szétterjesztettem a karjaimat. A hótakaró, amelyen a karjaimat nyugtattam, olyan széjjelmálló volt, hogy meg se mertem moccanni, attól való féltemben, hogy leomlik, és belehullok a feneketlen mélységbe. Szerencsére Mawson a közelemben volt és kiáltásomra jégcsákányt hozott, lyukat ütött a szakadék szélének szilárd jegébe, ebbe beleakasztotta a csákányt, és a nyelét átlendítette hozzám. Ezt megragadva, valahogy kikecmeregtem a szilárd jégre.

Másnap elvontattuk a szánokat az előző este látott jégsánchoz. Minthogy ez a jégsánc messze terjedő kilátást nyújtott a környező vidékre, azt gondoltuk, bárkinek is szemébe kell tűnnie, aki északról, a tenger felől közeledik a Drygalski-jégár felé. Ezért tehát elhatároztuk, hogy miután nyomát se látjuk a tengernagyi hivatal térképén "alacsony, menedékes part"-nak nevezett partvonalnak, ezen a helyen hagyjuk hátra depónkat.

Számításunk szerint a Drygalski-gleccsernek ettől a pontjától még mintegy 350 kilométeres út várt ránk a mágnességi sarkig. Odavissza jó 700. Kerülőkkel, kitérésekkel együtt úgylehet 800 kilométerre kellett elkészülve lennünk.

Első feladatunk volt ennélfogva, hogy elegendő élelmiszert biztosítsunk hosszú utunkra. Mackay már előzőleg leölt néhány fókát és császárpingvint. Az egyik szán hátrahagyása után – amelyen rajta volt tartalékfelszerelésünk és egész geológiai gyűjtésünk – 300 kilogrammnyi rakománnyal keltünk útra. Kérdéses volt, meg fogunk-e tudni birkózni ekkora teherrel a mi elsatnyult, legyöngült állapotunkban.

Először is leraktuk a málhát mind a két szánról és megvizsgáltuk őket. Azt találtuk, hogy a "Duff" szánnak a talpa a kevésbé sérült.

14-én még javában el voltunk foglalva a nagy szárazföldi út készületeivel. Mackay főzte a húst, Mawson a tudományos műszeres ládákat szerelte át a nagy szánról a kis szánra, én meg a depó lobogóinak a megerősítésével foglalatoskodtam, és leveleket írtam a Nimrod parancsnokához, Shackleton hadnagyhoz és családomhoz. Levélesládául egy tejkonzerves doboz szolgált, amelyet hozzáerősítettem a depó zászlórúdjához.

Amikor mindezzel elkészültünk, a Karácsonyfa-szánt fölvonszoltuk a jégsánc tetejébe, fülkéket faragtunk, amelyekbe a szán talpa beleillik; a szántalpakat függőlegesen a kivájásokba ágyaztuk és a kivagdosott jégdarabokkal jó embermagasságig betakartuk. A zászlórudat, a fekete lobogóval, gondosan hozzákötöztük a szánhoz. Szinte fájt megválni a szánunktól, amely az otthon egy darabkáját jelentette nekünk.

Bármily mehetnékünk volt is már, hogy megkezdjük a mágneses sarkra vivő utunk végső szakaszát, a dühöngő orkán miatt nem indulhattunk 16-áig. A három napos kényszerű pihenő után örömmel eszméltünk rá, hogy aránylag könnyen vontatjuk súlyos szánunkat.

Csakhamar azonban újabb nyílt repedéshez értünk. Időt vesztettünk vele, hogy megkerüljük. Amikor meg túlkerültünk rajta, magas és meredek turolás zárta el útunkat. Nem volt más választásunk, fel kellett vontatnunk szánunkat a hasadékokkal megszabdalt, 25 méter magas meredek jéglejtő tetejébe – ahonnan újabb hasonló, sőt egyre növekvő és meredélyesebbre váló lejtők egész sorát fedeztük föl. A hasadékok tökéletes útvesztőjébe jutottunk; nagyobb részüket csalóka hóhidak takarták el.

Miközben egy ilyen hóhídon igyekeztünk átkelni az egyik repedésen – egy roppanás és Mawson hirtelen eltűnt szemünk elől. A szán vontató kötelének a fa-fogantyúja fenntartotta, és társunk gyaloghámjánál fogva ott lebegett a tátongó mélység fölött a hasadék két fala között.

Mackay és én megragadtuk a kötelet, ha netán el akarna szakadni a fogantyúnál. Mawson kiáltott, hozzuk el a hegymászókötelet és eresszük le hozzá. Mackay-t otthagytam és loholtam a szánhoz. Amíg a kötél kibontásával bajlódom, Mawson szavát hallom: azt mondja, érzi, csúszik lefelé. Rohanok vissza Mackay-hez, hogy egyesült erővel húzzuk vissza Mawson gyaloghámját. Akkor meg Mawson jelenti a mélyből, hogy már nincs semmi baj. Az tévesztette meg, hogy a gyaloghám kötele hirtelen belevágódott a hóhíd szélébe és megereszkedett.

Most én ragadtam meg a kötelet és Mackay szaladt vissza a hegymászókötélért. A végére karikát kötött, hogy Mawson abba tegye a lábát. Mawson ezalatt harmadfél méter mélységben a beszakadt hóhíd szintje alatt, fölfedezett valami jégkristályokat a hasadék szélén, és feldobta nekünk, hogy majd később vizsgálat alá vegye.

A hegymászókötelet leeresztettük és lassan-lassan, kicsidenkint fölhúztuk Mawsont, míg csak a hóhíd aljához nem ért a fejével. A hóhidat a fejével és a vállával kellett áttörnie, hogy végre felbukkanjon és kidughassa fejét a mélységből.

Végre ez is sikerült, és a hasadék innenső szélén biztonságban volt. Le nem írhatom, mily megkönnyebbülten lélegzettünk fel. Az izgalmas esemény után még sokkal óvatosabbak voltunk a hasadékokkal és repedésekkel, amelyek valósággal át- meg átszőtték a tájékot.

Szánunk, miközben vonszoltuk fölfelé a jégturolásokra, két ízben is oldalt billent, mert az egyik szántalpat elnyelte valami hasadék. Egyszer meg hajszál híja, hogy mindenestől bele nem bukfencezett a mélységbe, amelynek hótakarója részben beszakadt alatta. Ha lezuhan a mélybe, bizonyos, hogy a három métermázsás súly bennünket is menthetetlenül magával ránt.

Világosan kitűnt, hogy ezt a tömérdek repedést nem a Drygalski-, hanem a Nansen-gleccser okozza.

20-án haditanácsot tartottunk: a Nansen-gleccser irányában folytassuk-e utunkat, avagy inkább vonuljunk vissza és más utat keressünk fel a fennsíkra. Mackay a gleccser mellett szavazott, mi ketten a visszavonulást javasoltuk. Végül úgy döntöttünk, hogy még egyszer takarodót fújunk.

HARMINCKILENCEDIK FEJEZET.Fölfelé és előre.

Reménységünk, hogy a mágneses sarkot elérhessük, egyre halványodott. December 20-át írtuk már, és tudtuk, hogy legkésőbb február elsejére vagy másodikára vissza kell térnünk a Drygalski-jégáron hagyott depónkhoz, ha azt akartuk, hogy valamennyire is alapos kilátásunk legyen rá, hogy a Nimrod fölvesz bennünket. Ez azt jelentette, hogy a mágneses sarkra és vissza a depóhoz, összesen 800 kilométeres utat járjunk meg hat hét alatt.

S méghozzá úgy kellett kiverekednünk a járható utat a magas fennsíkra oly időben, amikor mindent mély hó takar, és a szán vontatása küzdelmesebb lesz mint valaha. Nem csoda, ha reményeink nem voltak valami rózsásak ezidőtájt.

Mindamellett nem tehettünk mást, mint hogy délnyugati irányban tapogatózzunk és felkutassunk valami járható utat. Sekély víztócsákban gázolva, turolásokon átkapaszkodva, hasadékokat átszelve végre ráakadtunk egy lágy, mély hó borította meredek lejtőre, amelyen át kínálkozott valami keserves út fölfelé.

Mialatt geológiai gyűjtésünket kiegészítettuk néhány darabbal, közöttük egy magányos korallal, hallottuk a hegytömegek meredek gránitlejtőin lezuhogó hegyipatakok bömbölését.

Időről-időre egy-egy magasból lezuhanó lavina dörgő csattogása hatott el fülünkbe – sajátságos hangok az Antarktisz zavartalan, halotti csöndjéhez szokott fülünknek.

22-én dühöngő hóvihar lepett meg váratlanul. Karácsony estje lett, mire kimozdulhattunk sátrunkból.

Ezen az estén, tíz óra tájt túljártunk végre a hóolvadás kényelmetlen zónáján, és körülöttünk fagyosabb és szárazabb lett a táj. Közel jártunk a 400 méter tengerszínfeletti magassághoz, és elégedettségünk nőttön nőtt, ahogy mindegyre magasabbra emelkedtünk.

Karácsony napján eleinte késleltetett megint a vihar, de utóbb mégis sikerült legyűrnünk 6–7 kilométert, és estére 600 méter magasságban ütöttünk tanyát.

Más egyéb karácsonyi ajándék híján Mawson és én megleptük Mackay-t egy kis tengeri fűvel, minthogy dohánya már régen elfogyott.

A rákövetkező nap megint hasadékokkal küszködtünk. Némelyiknek a szélessége elérte a tíz métert. Szerencsére a hóhidak elég erősek voltak, hogy szánostul megbírjanak. Mackay indítványára nagyobb biztonság kedvéért a hegymászókötelet ráerősítettük Mawsonra, aki elöl haladt, s a másik kötél másik végét a szánra kötöttük. A kötél elég laza volt hozzá, hoqy Mawson a gyaloghámnál fogva vontassa a szánt, s így az ő dereka köré két kötél is csavarodott. Jó rendszernek bizonyult, és ettől fogva mindenütt így jártunk a hasadékokkal szabdalt jégen át.

Másnap sícipőinket, geológiai gyűjtésünket, egy napi élelmet, némi olajat hátrahagytunk. Ezt a kis depót Larsen-depónak neveztük el, mert közel volt a Larsen-hegy egyik déli nyúlványához.

Szemünket majd kinéztük azon való igyekezetünkben, hogy megállapítsuk, nem tornyosul-e valami ijesztő hegység előttünk, amely elzárja fölhatolásunkat a fennsíkra. Hálás megkönnyebbüléssel töltött el, amikor végül is meggyőződtünk róla, hogy tűrhetően könnyű kapaszkodó visz fel a platóra. A lejtő felszíne is kedvező volt: kemény firnhó és hó. Ezen a napon csaknem 20 kilométerrel jutottunk előrébb és december 30-án elértük az 1500 méter tengerszín feletti magasságot. Leheletünk jéggé dermedt és Burberry-sisakjainkat hozzáragasztotta szakállunkhoz és bajuszunkhoz, akárcsak téli időben.

Szilveszter estéje némi csalódást hozott magával. Mawson újabb mégnességi megfigyeléseiből kitűnt, hogy a mágnességi sark mélyebben benn van a szárazföld belsejében, mint hittük. Még mindig meredek lejtőn vonszoltuk a szánt, lágyabb térszínen, mint idáig, s amellett valamicskével szűkebbre szabtuk napi eleségadagunkat, hogy tartalékkészletet gyűjtsünk arra az esetre, ha utunk hosszabbnak bizonyulnat, mint ahogy vártuk. Mindez együtt hozzájárult, hogy estére alaposan kimerüljünk.

Tanyánkon meglátogatott egy sirály, aligha azért, hogy boldog újévet kívánjon nekünk, mint inkább mert fókának nézett bennünket, – fókának, amely halálát érzi és elvánszorog a szárazföld belsejébe. Gyakori szokása ezeknek az állatoknak.

Újév napja ragyogó szélcsönddel köszöntött be. Az évforduló örömére Mawson nagy lakomát rendezett: jó kövér "hoosh"-t és egy nagy fazék kakaót főzött; kimerítő menetünk után nagyszerűen ízlett.

Erősen kerülgetett már az éhség és szomjasak is voltunk. Csakugyan, ahelyett, hogy mit szeretnénk enni, kezdtünk arról beszélgetni, mit innánk, ha módunkban volna. Mackay úgy véli, szemhunyorítás nélkül fölhajtana egy nagy kanna tejszínt, Mawson egy nagy tál krémre fente a fogát. Én néhány ibrik meleg tejeskávé mellett döntöttem.

Január 3-án még egyre emelkedtünk. Másnap örömmel fedeztük föl, hogy szelídül a lejtő. Közel 2000 méter magasságban jártunk. A lélegzetvétel a kemény hidegben

észrevehetőleg megnehezült. Nem volt ez még kifejezett hegyi betegség, de gyöngébbeknek éreztük magunkat, mint rendesen, és ez bizonyosan összefüggött a hideggel és a magassággal.

Mindamellett jó 16 kilométert tettünk meg napjában, és ez elég volt rá, hogy bizakodó hangulatban ringassuk magunkat.

6-án levetettem jégpatkómat, és új pár finncsizmát húztam, aminek az lett az eredménye, hogy kiszaladt lábam alól a talaj, és bal lábszáram belső oldalán, térd alatt megrándult az izmom. Sokat szenvedtem vele az út hátralevő részében.

A hegyi "lomhaság" továbbra is éreztette hatását. Kezünket gyakran megmarta a fagy, miközben a szán terhelésével bajlódtunk.

9-én nem mutatkozott többé hegylánc semerre – hatalmas hótenger hullámain küzdöttük előre magunkat, hegynek föl, hegynek le.

NEGYVENEDIK FEJEZET.A mágneses sark.

Estéről-estére 16–16 kilométerrel közelebb jártunk a mágneses sarkhoz, de 11-én különfée "kényelmetlenségek" adódtak elő – hogy szelíden fejezzem kt magamat. Mawson jobb szemét megtámadta a hóvakság; ő is, Mackay is sokat szenvedett az ajkbőr hámlásától, minek folytán ajkuk érzékeny húsa védtelenül maradt. Reggelente alig bírták a szájukat kinyitni – ajkuk valósággal egybetapadt .

Az iránytű ezidőtájt nagyon lomhán működött; a teodolit iránytűje alig-alig akart megmozdulni. Ez tetszett nekünk. Eleinte mind a hárman kívántuk, bárcsak használhatóbb volna az iránytű, de azután rájöttünk tévedésünkre, és inkább azt kívántuk, hogy iránytűnk mentől kevésbé legyen használható.

12-én este Mawson, a Discovery-expedíció előzetes mágnességi jelentésének gondos tanulmányozása után arra az eredményre jutott, – habár a dolog nem volt egészen nyilvánvaló – hogy a mágnességi sark nem kelet felé mozdul el, ahogyan Sabine megfigyelése (1841) és a Discovery-expedíció észlelése (1902) közötti időben történt, hanem inkább kissé északnyugati irányban mozdul el. Ugyancsak erre vallott az elhajlás leolvasása utazásunk további szakaszán. Ha tehát el akartunk jutni a mágneses sarkra, tovább kellett mennünk abban az irányban, mint ahogy számítottunk. A legnagyobb mértékben nyugtalanító volt ez a fölfedezés, mert már majdnem végére jártunk élelmiszereinknek – ha leszámítottuk a visszatérésre szánt szűkre szabott eleséget. Minden nyugtalanságunk mellett is, elnyomott az álom.

Másnap reggelinél megvitattuk a jövőt. Mawson gondosan átnézve a mágneses sark fekvésére vonatkozó észleléseit, arra az eredményre jutott, hogy még négy napi út választ el tőle. Elhatároztuk, hogy tovább megyünk négy napi távolságra.

Még aznap 21 kilométerrel jutottunk közelebb célunkhoz; a rákövetkező nap a hófelszín, amerre utunk vezetett, tündöklött a jégkristályoktól. Valóságos szentségtörésnek tetszett összetaposni az ujjnyi széles gyönyörű kristályokat.

15-én húsz perccel dél előtt Mawson mágnességi megfigyelést végzett a lehajlásmérővel, és azt találta, hogy a lehajlás csak 15 ívperccel tér el 8 függőlegestől, vagyis 89°45'. Nagy gyönyörűséggel töltött el a tudat, hogy ennyire közel járunk a mágnességi sarkhoz. Bernacchi észlelései a Discovery-expedíció két esztendejében a téli szálláson – a Ross-szigeten – arra mutat, hogy a mágnestű napi ingadozása néha igen jelentékeny. Ha az iránytű a nap különböző szakaiban csekély eltérést mutat, ez arra vall, hogy a mágneses középpont a maga napi vándorlását végzi középhelyzete körül.

Mawson úgy ítélte, hogy máris a mágneses sarkon járunk, és ha 24 óráig veszteglünk itt és ezalatt állandó észleléseket végzünk ezen a helyen, a sark valószínűleg függőlegesen alánk kerül. Elhatároztuk mindamellett, hogy tovább megyünk addig a pontig, ahol Mawson számítása szerint a mágneses sark megközelítő középhelyzete van. Estére a lehajlás 89°48' volt.

A lehajlás gyors növekedéséből, úgyszintén a Bernacchi mágnességi észleléseivel való összhasonlításból Mawson úgy ítélte, hogy körülbelül 20 kilométerre vagyunk a déli mágneses sark valószínű középhelyzetétől. A középhelyzet pontos meghatározásához, úgy lehet, egy havi szakadatlan megfigyelésre lenne szükség. Mi erre nem vállalkozhattunk a mi helyzetunkben, és a meghatározás teljesen kielégítő pontosságú.

Ennek folytán elhatároztuk, hogy másnap erőltetett menettel tovább megyünk még 20 kilométerrel, hogy elérjük a sark megközelítő pontos középhelyzetét.

Január 16-án, szombati napon, reggel hatkor talpon voltunk, és azonnal útnak indultunk. A szánt 3 kilométerre magunkkal vittük, és ott hátrahagytuk ruházatunk és fölszerelésünk súlyosabb részét. További 3 kilométerrel odább leerősítettük a lehajlásmérő lábait; a vízszintes síkban mozgó mágnestű a mi céljainkra mit sem ért volna.

Újabb 3–4 kilométerrel odább felállítottuk a teodolitot, és még ugyanennyivel tovább haladva felállítottuk sátrunkat és ettünk valamit.

Azután a mágneses sark irányában vándoroltunk tovább mintegy 8 kilométert. Ez volt az a hely, ahol Mawson számítása szerint a mágneses sarknak lennie kell, középállás szerint: 72°25' déli szélesség, 155°16' keleti hosszúság.

Mawson beállította a fényképezőgépet, mi azalatt leszúrtuk a lobogó rúdját.

Délután fél négykor levettük süvegünket, fölröpült a lobogó, és Shackleton hadnagy utasítása szerint hangosan így szólottam: "Ezennel birtokomba veszem a Brit birodalom nevében ezt a területet, amelyen ez idő szerint van a mágneses sark."

Ugyanabban a pillanatban elrántottam a zsinórt, amely a fényképező gépet "elsütötte", és végül három Éljen-t kiáltottunk a királyra.

A hőmérsék a lobogó kitűzésének a pillanatában pontosan 0° volt a Fahrenheit-hőmérőn (–17,8° Celsius).

Mélységes öröm és elégtétel érzete uralkodott el rajtunk, hogy annyi küzdelem és veszély árán végrehajtottuk íme vezérünk utasítását és megvalósítottuk Sir James Clarke Ross óhajtását, hogy a déli mágneses sarkot is birtokába vegye az emberiség, mint ahogy ő már 1831-ben birtokába vette az északit.

Az élénkebb örömnyilvánításokra hiányzott bennünk az erő; sokkal inkább ki voltunk merülve. Az érzés, amely minden másnak fölébe kerekedett ebben a pillanatban: a fejet hajtó, szívből átérzett hála érzete volt a kegyes Gondviselés iránt, mely biztonságban vezérelte lépteinket a messze célhoz.

Alig rebegtük el a szavakat: "Hála Istennek!" –már fordultunk is vissza és amily gyorsan csak fáradt tagjainktól tellett, siettünk vissza parányi zöld sátrunkhoz a hó fehér tengerében. Este tíz óra tájban elértük a sátrat és bebújtunk hálózsákunkba, bódultan a fáradtságtól, de boldogan, hogy legalább a kudarc lidércnyomása lefoszlott a kedélyünkről.

NEGYVENEGYEDIK FEJEZET.Hazafelé.

Másnap reggel a szokottnál később volt az ébredő. Meghánytuk-vetettük, mennyi reményünk lehet rá, hegy a Nimrod reánk talál, ha elindul a part mentén keresésünkre a Drygalski-gleccseren fölállított depónk irányában.

A mágneses sarkot mintegy 420 kilométer távolság választja el ettől a depótól, madártávlatban – ahogyan "a sirály száll" – s minthogy mi előző nap 18 kilométert leróttunk már, kereken még 400 volt hátra február elsejéig, amikorra el kellett érnünk a Drygalski-gleccserdepót. 15 napunk volt még. Napjában tehát 25 kilométeres út várt reánk.

Hóvihar okozta késedelem bizonyára áthúzná minden számításunkat. De máskülönben is a szélvájta barázdák irányából tudtuk, hogy az uralkodó szelek éppen szembe fognak fújni. A kilátás, hogy idejében elérjük a depót, meglehetősen bizonytalan volt.

Induláskor azonban, 17-én, pompás időnk volt, és a szél, amely menőben a sark felé segített, megfordult, és most segítségünkre jött hazatérő utunkban. Bár késősen indultunk, estig megint csak lemorzsoltunk 25 kilométert. Másnap, jóllehet Mawson bal lábára sántikált: ugyanennyit.

19-én is sikerült lerónunk az előírt távolságot. De ezen a napon kellemetlen meglepetés ért: kiderült, hogy elszámítottam magamat, és erre a hétre – utazásunk hatodik hetére –

nem jutott tea. Kénytelenek voltunk a hetedik hétre való zacskó tartalmát megfelezni. Elhatároztuk, hogy visszatérőben a tanyahelyeken felkutatjuk a hasznát tea zacskóit, és ezekkel együtt főzzük ki a friss tea parányi maradékát.

A part felé haladtunkban egész tekintélyes számú ilyen kifőzött muszlinzacskót találtunk. Teánk az alapos főzéstől erős muszlinmellékízt kapott, de mi valóságos nektárnak éreztük ezt az italt.

Teltek a napok. Amikor láttuk, hogy a napi 25 kilométernek nincsen híja, Mawson 20-án indítványozta, térjünk vissza a teljes adagokra. A javaslatot általános lelkesedéssel elfogadtuk, mert bizony már nagyon elerőtlenedtünk a szűk táplálkozástól.

Egész addig a napig sikerült a régi szánnyomok sínpárjait követni, s ez nagy áldás volt reánk ezen a vidéken, ahol az iránytűnek oly kevés hasznát vehettük. De már a következő napokban elvesztettük a nyomot, és rémséges fáradsággal tapostuk a pástétomszerű havat.

* Madártávlatban – torony iránt – angolul így van: "Ahogyan a daru [!? – varjú] repül" (As the crow flies).

De azért ekkor is kierőszakoltuk a napi 25 kilométert. Január a Baxter-hegy fölbukkanása. Estefelé megvitattuk, hogy vajon közel járunk-e a régi szánnyomokhoz. Mackay úgy vélte, közelebb vagyunk a hegyekhez, mint menőben. Én azt tartottam, távolabb járunk délnyugat felé, mint akkor. Mawson, aki most is elöl járt, azt mondta, csaknem pontosan a régi útvonalon haladunk. Kevésre rá csakugyan ráakadtunk a régi nyomra – újból bebizonyult, mily ügyes "kormányos" a mi Mawsonunk.

Másnap amolyan szelídebb hóviharban folytattuk utunkat. Estefelé megpillantottuk a Nansen-hegyet. Utunk végén márványszerű kemény firnhóra jutottunk, amely rövid meredek lejtőkön ereszkedett alá.

Eleinte nem ismertük föl, hogy azon a helyen járunk, amelyet menőben "Jégesések"-nek neveztünk el. Időről-időre nekiiramodott a szán a "márványlépcsőkön."

27-én végre szemünkbe tűnt a Larsen-hegy. Alig 65 kilométerre voltunk a Larsen-depótól.

A negyven kilométeres szél gyakran megmegtaszította a szánt. Egy ízben le is vert a lábamról a belém szaladó szán. Mawson és Mackay szabadítottak ki méltatlan helyzetemből.

Ebédkor abban a halvány reményben, hogy meglágyíthatom Mackay-nek a szívét – aki "hetes" volt ezen a héten – csöndesen megsúgtam neki, hogy – születésem napja van. Mackay megértett és olyan ebédet és vacsorát pöndörített, mint annak a rendje.

Ezen a napon 32 kilométerrel jutottunk közelebb a parthoz. Fáradságos utazás volt. Amikor újból útnak eredtünk, szomorúan tapasztaltuk, hogy a szán vontatása küzdelmesebb mesterség, mint a vitorlával való haladás.

Rendületlenül haladt tovább a menet. A Nansen-hegy és a Larsen-hegy egyre nagyobbra nőtt, és egyre világosabban rajzolódott ki. Reméltük, hogy még aznap este elérjük a depót. Mawson azonban nagyon fájlalta a lábát, és már-már sátrat akartunk ütni, amikor Mackay éles szeme fölfedezte a jégcsákányhoz kötözött kis kék lobogónkat. Így azután csakugyan folytattuk az utat a depóig, és éjfél lett, mire bebújtunk hálózsákunkba.

Reggelre kelve (január 30-án) összeszedtük a hátrahagyott holmit: sícipőt, geológiai gyűjteményt, és mindent rendben fölraktunk a szánunkra.

Ezen a napon vitattuk meg azt a kérdést, mi lenne bölcsebb: az-e, hogy a régi útvonalon ereszkedjünk le, avagy hogy a Larsen-gleccser főágát kövessük addig a pontig, ahol az a Drygalski-gleccserrel egyesül. Mackay az előbbi útirány mellett kardoskodott, mi ketten az utóbbira szavaztunk. A következmények megmutatták, hogy Mackay-nek volt igaza.

A főgleccseren indultunk lefelé, és csakhamar olyan meredekre vált az út, hogy alig bírtuk megfékezni a szánt, hogy hanyatt-homlok le ne vágtasson a lejtőn.

Január utolsó napján a rakomány felét leraktuk, és a megmaradó könnyű teherrel próbáltuk meg, hogy lejárót találjunk a Drygalski- és Larsen-gleccser egyesült jégtorlaszainak sorain keresztül a simább tengerjégre és úgy tovább a Drygalski-jégsáncra.

Mawson és Mackay vontatták, én meg támogattam a szánt, de minden erőlködésem mellett is gyakran fölborult. Végre elértük egy óriási jégtorlasz lábát, egy regényes pontot, amely fölött hatalmas tömör gránitszirt tornyosul föl vagy 600 méter magasságba. Ebben az órában bevallom, nem nagyon méltányoltuk a hely romantikus szépségét.

Mackay terepszemlére indult és azzal jött vissza, hogy a nagy jégtorlaszon, amely láthatólag elzárja utunkat a depóhoz, át kell kapaszkodnunk. Fogtuk jégcsákányunkat, és utat egyengettünk vele a torlasz egy részén keresztül – kemény munka! – aztán leraktuk a terhet, és a rakományt darabonkint kézről-kézre adtuk. Végül fölvontattuk a szánt és óvatosan leeresztettük a túlsó oldalon.

Lassan-lassan megjavult a térszín, majd megint elakadtunk. Ez alkalommal egy jég-"donga" állta utunkat, szemmel láthatólag valami olvadóvízből eredő patak régi csatornája.

Három ilyen jégdonga került utunkba – szélességük néhány arasztól egészen 30 méterig váltakozott. Gyakran nagy kerülőt kellett tennünk, hogy átjussunk rajtuk.

Bajlódásunkat növelte a megszámlálhatatlan repedés és a meredek jégtorlaszok. Megesett, hogy Mackay is, én is egyszerre potyogtunk bele ugyanabba a hasadékba, én derékig, ő egészen nyakig. Szerencsére mindannyiszor ép bőrrel menekültünk. Szétterjesztett karunk fönntartott.

Estefelé, amikor újból útnak indultunk, megeredt a hó. Február elsején reggel hétkor agyonhajszoltan ütöttük föl tanyánkat.

NEGYVENKETTEDIK FEJEZET.Akadályok.

Egész nap erősen havazott. De sem ez, sem Mawson lábfájása nem tarthatott vissza. Már csak két napi eleségünk volt, és – úgy képzeltük – 25 kilométerre járunk a Drygalski-gleccseren hagyott depónktól. így hát a sűrűn kavargó hófergetegben is nekiindultunk. Ilyen viszonyok közt kimondhatatlanul fárasztó volt az út, a tájékozódás meg végül lehetetlenné vált. Kénytelenek voltunk este nyolckor tanyát ütni. Minket, kimerült, agyonhajszolt vándorokat egyszeriben elnyomott az álom.

Február 2-án reggel örömünkre napsütésre ébredtünk. Kétségbeesett kísérletet tettünk, hogy ezen a napon elérjük a depót, mert tudtuk, hogy a Nimrod megérkezése esedékes erre a napra – sőt, talán már késő is. Visszatekintve előző napi nyomainkra, láttuk. hogy pontosan olyan egyenes útat írtunk le, mint egy – dugóhúzó.

Megpihenten is rendkívül, keservesen megerőltető volt az út a lágy havon.

Átkeltünk egy jégcsatornán és 6–7 kilométerrel odább a másodikon. Ezen a helyen mindent hátrahagytunk, kivéve a szánt, hálózsákot, főzőkészüléket, olajat és élelmiszert, készleteink helyét kis kék zászlóval megjelöltük, és erőltetett menetben folytattuk vándorlásunkat a Drygalski-depóhoz.

Megkönnyebbült szánunkat jóval könnyedebben vontattuk. Hóhídon átszeltünk egy harmadik jégcsatornát és mentünk tovább. Mawson időnkint körüljártatta messzelátóját a látóhatáron, – és egyszerre csak felkiáltott, hogy világosan látja a depó lobogóját, beletűzve a jéghalomba. Mackay, majd én vettük kezünkbe a látcsövet, és egyikünk se látta színét sem a lobogónak. Mawson erősködött, hogy vakok vagyunk, belenézett újra a messzelátóba, aztán bevallotta, hogy ő se lát semmit. A látóhatár föl és le hullámzott, mintha forrott volna. Délibáb játszott verünk.

Mawson azonban annyira bízott magában, hogy ő igenis látta a szántalpra erősített lobogót, hogy megváltoztattuk utunk irányát, és egy-két kilométerrel tovább haladva nagy megkönnyebbülésünkre halljuk ám, hogy világosan látja megint a zászlót. Megújult reményekkel vontattuk tovább a szánt, kilométerről kilométerre. Éjfél is elkövetkezett. Egyik lábam hüvelykujja majd' elfagyott a hidegtől, mert harisnyám nyirkos volt, és a hőmérséklet gyors süllyedése folytán jéggé fagyott.

Megálltunk, hogy harisnyát váltsak és harapjunk valamit. Fölfrissülve útnak eredtünk megint, abban a biztos hitben, hogy most már végre elérjük a depót, vagy legalább a kis öblöt, két kilométerre a depótól. De – ember tervez, Isten végez.

Baljóslatú fehér csíkot vettünk észre magunk előtt – közvetlen mögötte meg sötét csík vonult. Csakhamar megértettük, hogy szakadék, a jégben és a hóban. Kisvártatva el is értük a szakadék szélét, amely váratlanul közénk és a depó közé tolakodott.

A szakadék mintegy 200 méter széles lehetett; mélysége 10–12 méter. Függőleges szirtfalak szegték be, csak az északnyugati oldalon enyhült kissé ez a meredekség. A délnyugati fal meg a függőlegesen is túlhajlott. Ameddig a szem ellát, vonult ez a szakadék a szárazföld belseje felé.

Elhatároztuk, hogy megpróbálunk átjutni rajta, a szakadék fenekén keresztül, ahol – izgalmas látvány – fókákat és császárpingvineket pillantottunk meg a jégen. A hegymászókötél segítségével, amelyet átvetettünk a szán orrán, lejutottunk végre a mélység fenekére. Mackay elejtett két pingvint, hogy kiegészítse megfogyatkozott éléstárunkat. Ezalatt Mawson kikutatott egy helyet, ahol fölküzdhetjük magunkat a túlsó part színére. Annyira el voltam csigázva, hogy megkértem Mawsont, vegye át ő a vezetést.

Igazolva láttam ezt a lépésemet: az expedíció feladata betelt, alig néhány kilométer választott el a depótól, s az éhenhalás veszélyétől egyelőre nem volt okunk tartani.

Igaz, másfelől, ami végső biztonságunkat illeti, helyzetünk elég kritikus volt még. Először is azt sem tudhattuk egész bizonyosan, hogy a Nimrod egyáltalán megérkezett-e a Ross-tengerbe. Másodszor meg, ha megérkezett is, könnyen meglehet, hogy a depó zászlóstul elkerüli figyelmét.

Abban az esetben, ha a hajó néhány napon belül föl nem bukkanna, két dolog közt lehet választásunk, – de mindenképpen nyomban cselekedni kell – az egyik, hogy a Drygalski-depónál töltjük a telet (s akkor hozzá kell fogni az előkészületekhez), a másik, hogy megkísértjük az átkelést a meredek, meghasogatott gleccseren át a 300 kilométernél távolabb fekvő téli szállásra, a Royds-fokra.

Arra az esetre is, ha a Nimrod hirtelen megjelenése kívánna valami gyors és erélyes cselekedetet, úgy gondoltam, helyénvaló, hogy Mawson, aki testileg kevésbé kimerült, legyen a vezérünk.

De mindettől eltekintve is, Mawson az egész úton kitűnő rátermettségről tett tanúságot a vezető szerepére. Amikor először felszólítottam, eleinte morgott egy kicsit, de aztán kijelentette, hogy elvállalja – átrnenetileg.

Eleinte azt gondoltuk, hogy a szakadék túlsó partján sikerül fölkapaszkodnunk, és hogy ez az egyetlen – ha mindjárt nehéz – lehetőség az előnyomulásra. Erőfeszítésünk

azonban ebben az irányban kudarcot vallott. Kénytelenek voltunk visszavonulni: megmászni a partfalat ugyanott, ahol leereszkedtünk a szakadék fenekére.

Rémségesen nehéz munkába került ez a kapaszkodás; szinte centiméterről centiméterre erőszakoltuk fölfelé a szánt. Naysokára fent volt megint a szán a szakadék partfalának a tetején, de persze nem azon a parton, melyen a depó volt, hanem a szembefekvőn. Ezen a helyen jónak láttuk tanyát ütni, mert mindöszsze öt kilométerre voltunk a nyílt tengertől. Ha a Nimrod észrevette a depó lobogóját, és parthoz állott, könnyűszerrel lesiethettünk az öböl bejáratához és jelt adhattunk.

Huszonhárom órai megfeszített munka után reggel 7 órakor nyugovóra tértünk, és negyed nyolckor, mint később megtudtuk, elhaladt arra a Nimrod, anélkül, hogy akár depónk lobogóját, akár sátrunkat észrevette volna a hóförgetegben.

Négy órai pihenés után fölrakodtunk és elindultunk a hószurdok északi partja mentén. A szakadék fenekén fókák és költő császárpingvinek mutatkoztak imitt-amott.

Legyöngülten elcsigázva, nagyon levert, hogy nem bírunk átvergődni a szakadékon. Egyszer csak Mackay, aki elöl járt, elkiáltotta magát, hogy – hóhidat talált a szakadékon át. Csatlakozott hozzánk, és odavontattuk a szánt a hóhídhoz.

A híd nem érte át egészen a szakadékot; a híd mindkét végén hasadékok húzódtak. Átléptük a hasadékot, és a szánnal nekiszaladtunk a híd közepének. Aztán hozzáfogtunk, hogy fölvontassuk a szemben fekvő meredek lejtőre. Mackay támogatta a szánt, hogy le ne zuhanjon a keskeny átjáróról, mi ketten meg húztuk-vontuk teljes erőnkből.

Egy-két perccel később szerencsésen átvergődtünk; hálás érzés fogott el, hogy legyőztük az utolsó akadályt is közöttünk és a depó között.

NEGYVENHARMADIK FEJEZET.Biztonságban, a hajó fedélzetén.

A végletekig le voltunk zsarolva, s mert különben is oly pontra jutottunk, ahonnan kiláttunk már a nyílt óceánra, a Drygalski-jégsáncon túl: a depótól két kilométerre fölütöttük sátrunkat. Február 3-a volt, éjfél előtt másfél órával.

Ezen a napon két olyan étkezésben is volt részünk, aminőt már régen nem élveztünk: ebédre leveses húst, vacsorára bőséges fókapecsenyét ettünk.

Vacsora után Mawson és én "falnak" fordultunk hálózsákunkban, Mackay pedig megkezdte első négyórás őrállását, leselkedvén a Nimrod fölbukkanására. Őrállásának ideje alatt elsétált a depóhoz, és kivájta a hóból kétszersültes dobozunkat, amely fókazsírlámpának és főzőedénynek is szolgált, meg a kiszolgált paraffinkannát, amelyet serpenyőnek használt, és elhozta ezeket a sátorhoz.

Azután főzött magának pingvinhúst és vígan lakmározott az ízletes falatokból. Amikor hajnalban négykor fölkeltett, tapasztaltam, hogy rólam se feledkezett meg: előkészített vagy egy kilogramm pingvinmellet a serpenyőben az én számomra, hogy legyen mivel agyonütnöm az időt őrállásom idején.

4-én délután megvitattuk jövő terveinket. Elhatároztuk, hogy haladéktalanul áttesszük hadiszállásunkat a régi depóhoz. Annyival is szembetűnőbb lesz a depó a tenger felől. De meg magunknak is messzebb terjedő kilátásunk lesz onnét a tengerre.

Arról is beszélgettünk, mit volna legokosabb tennünk, ha a Nimrod nem jelennék meg. Arra az eredményre jutottunk, hogy a legbölcsebb az lenne ez esetben, ha elvánszorognánk a Hut Pointhoz, útközben fókahússal tengetvén életünket.

Mackay úgy vélekedett, hogy már néhány nap múlva el kellene indulni; Mawson meg én azonban azt gondoltuk, várjuk ki február végét ezen a helyen. Akárhogy is, sorsunk nem volt valami rózsás.

Lehangolva a ránk váró küzdelem és vesződség előrevetett árnyékától, éppen azon voltunk, hogy kimerült tagjainkat kinyújtóztassuk és fölkészüljünk a depóhoz, amikor – bumm! Az volt az érzésünk, valahonnan a sátorajtó közeléből ered a hang. Mint valami delejes áram, futott végig rajtunk a hang. A következő pillanatban még erősebb dördülés rázkódtatta meg a levegőt.

Mawson volt az első, akinek a nyelve megoldódott.

– Ágyúlövés a hajóról! kiáltotta, és már kúszott is a sátor ajtaja felé. Az ajtó keskeny, egy pillanatra megtorlódott a forgalom. Kinyújtottam a nyakamat, hogy szerencsésen egy-két rúgást kapjak a kifelé mászó Mawsontól. Még vissza se nyertem egyensúlyomat, Mackay nekirugaszodott, rám tenyerelt és keresztültaposott szegény árva testemen.

Amikor végre talpra álltam, Mawson már vagy száz lépéssel vezetett. Mackay is messze járt már.

– Hozz valamit, amivel intsünk nekik! – kiáltotta vissza Mawscn.

Visszaugorva a sátorba, kirántottam Mackay hálózsákját.

Ahogy loholok megint előre, ó, micsoda látvány! Alig néhány száz lépésre ott a mi kedves öreg Nimrod hajónk, egyenesen felénk tart, be az öbölbe, és amikor meglátnak minket hármunkat, amint lélekszakadva rohanunk a hajó felé, a fedélzetről dörgő éljenzés fakad minden torokból.

Valóban bajos volna azokkal, akik nem voltak hasonló helyzetben, megértetni, az érzelmeknek micsoda hirtelen vihara kavargott bennünk – hogyan remegtette meg minden idegszálunkat ez az üdvkiáltás! Mintha csak új életre ébrednénk – a halálból.

Első érzésem a mérhetetlen öröm volt és megkönnyebbülés, azután a hála érzete támadt fel bennem a sors kegyelme iránt, amely elénk vezételte barátainkat megmentésünkre.

Egyszerre csak egy kiáltás visszaterelt a valóság birodalmába. Mackay szavát hallom:– Mawson beleesett egy mély hasadékbg – nézd csak, épp ott teelőtted!

És már látom is, hogy ott térdel egy kicsi hosszúkás lék szélén.

– Nincs semmi bajod, Mawson? – kérdezte. És a mélyből megjött a vigasztaló felelet:– Nincs.

Mawson vagy hat méter mélységben volt lenn a firnhó beszakadt repedésében. Első gondolatunk az volt, hogy elszaladunk a gyaloghámért és kihúzzuk. Kettőnk ereje azonban nem volt elég. S mert nagy volt a veszedelem, hogy a vékony hótakaró széle tovább szakad és betemeti Mawsont, hacsak valami deszkát keresztül nem fektetünk rajta, mást gondoltunk és én ott maradtam a hasadéknál, Mackay meg elrohant, hogy segítséget hozzon a Nimrod-ról.

– Mawson beleesett egy hasadékba – a mágneses sarkról jövünk – kiáltotta Mackay. Annyi idő se telt bele, mint amíg leírom, és tisztek és legénység tömegesen átugráltak a korláton és jöttek felénk a jégen.

Kiáltottam Mawsonnak, hogy a segítség kéznél van. Visszafelelt, hogy egész jól érzi magát, habár víz van a szakadék fenekén, de a falnak egy kiugró ékén tartja magát; az akasztotta meg zuhanásában is.

Ezalatt a mentőcsoport, J. K. Davis, a Nimrod első tisztje vezetésével megérkezett. A hasadékon deszkát fektettek keresztül, és Davis, aki a tettek embere volt, azon nyomban leereszkedett. Mawson, csekély zúzódással a hátán, egy-kettőre fenntermett a szakadék szélén. Utána Davis.

Micsoda boldogságos kézszorongatás és meleg szerencsekívánatok! Az első, aki üdvözölt bennünket a régi barátok közt, Evans kapitány volt, a Koonya volt parancsnoka. Most ő vezényelte a Nimrod hajót. Első dolga volt, hogy megnyugtasson: feleségem, családom jól van, semmi baj odahaza. Készséges kezek szedték össze motyóinkat, rakták föl a szánra és megindult a menet a Nimrod korlátján átvetett kötéllajtorja felé. .

Bármily hirtelen ment is ez végbe, Mackay-nek jutott érkezése, hogy pipát és dohányt szerezzen egyik társunktól.

Százhuszonkét napos keserves küszködés után, a tenger jegén és a szárazföld hósivatagában: kis hajónk oly fényűzőnek tetszett szemünknek, akárcsak valami hajópalota. Barátaink hangja – akik a hazai hírekről számoltak be – belevegyült a Nimrod gőzkazánjából kipufogó gőz sustorgásába. Mondhatatlan jóleső hangulat ringatott el bennünket.

Teával kezdtük a napot, azután következett a hazai levelek olvasása – csupa jó újság bennük – majd pedig egy újszerű gyönyörűség: az első tisztességes mosdás négy hónap múltával. Szorgalmas súrolás után lassankint előtűnt valódi énünk a fókaolaj és a korom vastag takarója alól.

Persze hogy agyonhabzsoltuk magunkat az ebédnél. De azért a meleg kakaó és kétszersült se vallott szégyent lefekvés előtt.

A sors kegyén felül társaink éber figyelmének, a kutatás alaposságának köszönhettük megmenekülésünket, és Evans kapitány kitűnő tengerész-képességeinek, tisztjei és legénysége odaadásának. *

8. kép. A Nimrod fölveszi az északi csoportot a Drygalski-jégperem szélén.

* Ezzel véget ér David professzor elbeszélése.

NEGYVENNEGYEDIK FEJEZET.Hazatérés Új-Zélandra.

A Nimrod, fedélzetén David tanárral, Mawsonnal és Mackay-vel február 11-én kötött ki a téli szálláson, és ott partra tette Mawsont. A déli csoportról semmi hír nem volt meg, a depóelhelyező csoport pedig, Joyce vezetésével odajárt még. Február 20-án ez a csoport visszatért a Hut Pointra, anélkül, hogy rólunk – Marshallról, Adamről, Wildról és rólam – bármi hírt hozhatott volna. Utasításaim úgy intézkedtek, hogy, ha február 25-éig nem érkezünk vissza déli utunkból, egy csoport szálljon partra a Hut Pointnál, egy kutyafogattal, és március elsején keresőcsoport induljon dél felé. Murray, aki távollétemben az expedíció parancsnoka volt, semmiképpen nem felelős érte, hogy ez a csoport nem járt eredménnyel. Ő hűségesen követte az utasítást.

** Az út leírásának ezt a végső fejezetét ismét Shackleton írta.

Minden előkészület befejeztetvén, az expedíció tagjainak nagyobb része partra szállott a Royds-fokon, hogy ott is minden holmit összecsomagoljon, készen a hajóra szállításra. A hajó február 21-én hagyta el a Royds-fokot és a Gleccsernyelvnél vesztegelt, amikor

én Wilddal megérkeztem a Hut Pointra február 28-án. Miután én a mentőcsoporttal partra szálltam, hogy behozzam Adamst és Marshallt, a hajó elvitorlázott a Royds-fokra, hogy fölvegye ott maradt társainkat, gyűjteményeinket és készleteinket.

A Nimrod a part közelében horgonyzott. Két csónakot bocsátottak vízre. Minthogy mindent úgy kellett kötélen lebocsátani a jégszirt tetejéről a csónakokba, a berakodás nem volt éppen könnyű feladat. Március 2-án reggel mégis már csak az emberek és a kutyák "behajózása" volt hátra.

Szilajon süvített a szél, és éppen amikor a kutyák leeresztésére került a sor, a szél viharrá fajult, és a tenger veszedelmesen elkezdett háborgani. A hullámok mélyen aláaknázták a jégszirtet, és messze kinyúló párkány keletkezett.

Az egyik csónak Davis vezetésével szerencsésen elérte a hajót, de a második – súlyosan megrakva emberekkel és kutyákkal – nem volt ilyen szerencsés. Alig jutott néhány evezőcsapásra a parttól, kettétört az egyik evezője.

A Nimrod a vihar komolyságára való tekintettel kénytelen volt fölvonni horgonyait és kihajózni az öbölből. A kísérlet, hogy bóját úsztassanak a csónakhoz, meghiúsult.

Harbord és emberei komoly veszedelemben forogtak: nem evezhettek ki az öbölből a háborgó tenggerre, a kiálló jégpárkány meg szerencsétlenséggel fenyegetett, ha a partra igyekeznének visszajutni.

Egy óra múltával sikerült nekik ráerősíteniök csónakjukat a kötélre, amelyet a jégszirt közeléből nyújtottak el hozzájuk a parton levők, hogy annál fogva partra húzzák őket.

Helyzetük veszedelmes volt még, de végül szerencsésen fölvontatták valamennyiüket, mielőtt a csónak elsüllyedt. Forró ital akadt számukra a kunyhóban, és jóllehet az ágyi ruha már mind a hajón volt is, boldogok voltak, hogy ép bőrrel menekültek.

Másnap reggel – március 3-án – a hajó visszatért a Royds-fokra, felvette fedélzetére a még ott maradt embereket és a kutyákat, aztán visszaevezett a Gleccsernyelvre, ott horgonyt vetett és várakozott a mentőcsoport visszatérésére.

Ugyanaz este tíz óra tájt Mackintosh a fedélzeten beszélgetett társaival; egyszerre csak izgatottság lepte meg és felkiáltott:– Az az érzésem, hogy Shackleton megérkezett a Hut Pointra.

Nyugtalan volt, és sürgette, hogy a hajó azonnal induljon a Hut Pointra. De senki se vetett rá ügyet. Dunlop azt tanácsolta neki, ha olyan biztos a dolgában, menjen el oda és figyeljen a jeladásra. Mackintosh el is ment, és nyomban észrevette a mi tűzjelzésünket a Hut Pointon. Erre a hajó is fölvonta horgonyait, és március 4-én hajnalban két órakor az expedíció minden tagja együtt volt a Nimrod fedélzetén.

Ha ki akartuk még egészíteni kutatásainkat, nem volt veszteii való időnk. A nyár végét járta (március szeptembernek felel meg a déli sarkvidéken), és már nyugtalanítóvá kezdtek válni a jégviszonyok. Mindamellett izgatott a dolog, hogy a hajóval bejárjuk és térképezzük a partvidéket nyugat felé, az Adélie-föld irányában. Parancsot adtam hát, és csakhamar elvitorláztunk északnak.

Mindenekelőtt az Armitage-fokot akartam megkerülni, és fölvettük ott hajónkra a Pram Pointnál maradt geológiai gyűjtéseket és fölszerelést.

A tengert rohamosan belepő friss jég sürgetett, alig vesztegelhettünk ott többet egy óránál, ha nem akartunk második telet tölteni az Antarktiszon.

A Nimrodot odavezényeltük a Pram Pointot szegélyző jégpárkány mellé, Mackintosh partra szállt egy csoporttal, és mihelyt visszatért, elindultunk észak felé.

Amikor elhaladtunk a Royds-fok előtt, valamennyien három hurrát kiáltottunk, és utolsó pillantást vetettünk a hely felé, ahol minden kényelmetlenség és küzdelem mellett is oly sok boldog napot töltöttünk. Elnéztük a kis kunyhót, amely otthonunk volt egy esztendőn keresztül, s amely, míg élünk, emlékezetünkben fog maradni. Szinte szomorúsággal láttuk, miként vész el lassan a messzeségben, és kevesen lehettek közöttünk, akik ne gondoltak volna rá vágyakozva, hogy eljön még az idő, amikor letelepedhetnek még egyszer a hatalmas Erebus árnyékában.

Téli szállásunkon, a Royds-fokon hátrahagytam annyi élelmiszert, ami tizenöt embernek egy évre elegendő; amilyenek az életföltételek az Antarktiszon, fordulhat úgy, hogy valami utánunk jövő expedíciónak megmentője lesz ez az eleségkészlet. A kunyhót bezártuk, a kulcsot szembetűnő helyre akasztottuk, és megszilárdítottuk újból az épületet, hogy ellenállhasson évek viharainak. Ott áll a kunyhó maiglan is, lakójára várva, az élet fenntartásához szükséges minden kellékkel fölszerelve.

Szerettem volna felvenni a Depot-szigeten hagyott geológiai gyűjteményt is, de a szél viharrá fajult, és sűrű úszójégbe kerültünk: mégoly rövid időre sem késhettünk, így hát kiadtam a rendeletet, hogy egyenesen tovább vitorlázzunk észak felé.

Célom volt, behatolni a Balleny-szigetek és a szárazföld közé, és kísérletet tenni, hogy a North-foktól nyugat felé tartva kövessük a part vonalát az Adélie-föld felé. Egyetlen hajónak sem sikerült idáig előrenyomulni a North-foktól nyugat felé, mindannyiszor sűrű jégzaj állta útját a hajóknak. A mi kísérletünk sem elégítette ki minden várakozásunkat, de megvolt az az elégtételünk, hogy előrehatoltunk a keleti hoszúság 166. fokáig (pontosan 166°14' k. h.), a 69°47' déli szélességen, – nyugatabbra, mint bármely előző expedíció.

9. kép. A Nimrod a jégben.

Március 8-án, a North-fokon túl új partvonal tűnt szemünkbe. Előbb délnek, majd nyugatnak vonult 70 kilométernél nagyobb távolságra. David tanár úgy vélte, hogy ez a sarki plató északi szegélye.

Örömest kikutattuk volna ezt a partvidéket, de lehetetlen volt: a jég egyre vastagabbra hízott, és haladéktalanul menekülnünk kellett a nyílt víz felé.

Reméltem mégis, hogy érinthetjük a Balleny-szigeteket, és rátalálunk a Wilkes-földre, de bizony március 9-én éjfél felé láttam már, hogy egyenesen északnak kell tartanunk. Utunkat máris elzárta a jég.

Már így is majdhogynem későn érkeztünk. A helyzet valóban aggasztóan festett, amikor föltartóztatott a jég és hajónk mozdulni se tudott. Szerencsénkre találtunk egy nyílt csatornát, amelyen át egérutat nyertünk, és 10-én délután meglehetősen nyílt vizű területre jutottunk.

Bajlódásunk véget ért. Mindvégig kedvező utunk volt az óceánon, és március 22-én horgonyt vetettünk Stewart szigetének déli partja előtt, a Lord's River torkolatánál. Nem igyekeztem egyenesen valami kikötővárosba, mert azt akartam, hogy az expedíció eredményeinek első híre eljusson Londonba, mielőtt szembekerülünk az újságírók energikus hadseregével.

Partraszállásunk napja – gyönyörű márciusi napfényben – emlékezetes és csodálatos élményünk marad. Több, mint egy hosszu esztendeje nem láttunk mást, mint sziklát, jeget, tengert és havat; nem vidította föl szemünket a természet zöldje, madarak zenéje nem hatolt el fülünkbe. Aki maga is nem töltött hosszú időt abban "a szigorú és komor

magányban, amely őrt áll a sark fölött" – sohsem fogja megérteni, mit jelentenek a fák, a virágok és csobogó patak az emberi léleknek. Egy partszegélyen kötöttünk ki, amely elválasztja a tengert az őserdő buja növényzetétől, és ott hemperegtünk gyerekek módjára, megittasodva az élet ujjongó örömétől.

Másnap kora reggel fölvontuk a horgonyt, és délelőtt tízkor behajóztunk a Half Moon- ("Félhold"-) öbölbe. Partra szálltam, föladtam kábeltávirataimat a kis távíróhivatalban, aztán siettem vissza a hajóra és folytattuk utunkat Lytteltonba: a kikötőbe, ahonnan az előző év első napján vitorláztunk el. Tizenöt havi távollét után, 1909. március 25-én késő délután szálltunk partra a lytteltoni kikötőben.

Új-Zéland népe szívesen fogadott volna, tudom, bármi lett volna is utunk eredménye; a Discovery-expedíció ideje óta soha nem lohadt az odavaló népben az érdeklődés a déli-sarki kutatás iránt és hálásan élveztem mindig az új-zélandiak meleg baráti ragaszkodását.

A kivívott tisztességes siker hírét megvitte a távíró Londonba, és onnan villámszárnyakon röpítette vissza a déli országokba; a szerencsét kívánó sokaság egetverő éljenriadalma fogadott bennünket a lytteltoni kikötőben. Lelkes barátok lepték el hajónkat, már az öböl bejáratánál, és mire a mi derék Nimrodunk a part mellé simult, már annyian nyüzsögtek a hajón, hogy mozdulni se lehetett.

Hatalmas levélkötegeket és egész csomó táviratot nyújtottak át. Szeretteink odahaza jól vannak, a világ elégedett a mi munkánkkal – úgy éreztük, az öröm és boldogság biztos révébe érkeztünk, s életünkhöz nem férkőzhetik többé szomorúság.

NEGYVENÖTÖDIK FEJEZET.A pingvinekről. *

Bármennyit írtak is már róluk, a pingvinek mindig új és új érdeklődést ébresztenek mindenkiben, aki először találkozik velük.

10. kép. A pingvinek hallgatják a gramofont.

Határtalanul érdekes megfigyelni őket. A nehézkes tötyögése mellett is méltóságteljes császárpingvint, amint sétál, oldalán feleségével vagy feleségeivel – a magával megelégedett, jómódú, gyanútlan vidéki atyafinak a megtestesülése – vagy amikor nagy komolyan bókol, akárcsak egy kínai, az ugató kutya előtt, avagy a kicsi, életrevaló, önmagával elfogalt Adélie-pingvint.

Gyakran nyilván ostobául viselik magukat, de néha jókora értelmességről tesznek tanúságot. Az emberekhez való hasonlóságuk mindig szembetűnő, nemcsak mert egyenesen járnak, de mert sok emberi vonásuk van. Ők az Antarktisz civilizált népe, és civilizációjuk, ha sokkal egyszerűbb is a mienknél, némely tekintetben magasabb, és erre a névre érdemesebb.

Sok van bennük az emberi természetből. Akárcsak az emberi társadalomból, az ő kolóniáikból is hiányzik minden igazi társadalmi ösztön; minden pingvin a maga saját érdekeit képviseli a pingvinek költőhelyén, – mit sem törődik a közösség javával. Akár kiirthatjuk az Adélie-pingvinek egész költőhelyét: ha csak egyetlen madárnak megkegyelmezünk, ez az egy oda se néz, csak őt hagyjuk békében.

* Az itt következő két fejezetet James Murray, az expedíció biológusa irta. Ugyanő könyvet is írt később a pingvinekről: The Penguin (London, Heinemann, 1921),

Az önzetlenségnek bizonyos halvány nyomai mutatkoznak az Adélie-pingvinek fészekrakó szokásaiban; s mint az embernek, az Adélie-pingvinnek is megvan az a kellemetlen szokása, hogy szeret lopni, és az a kellemetes szokása, hogy az evést tekinti élete fő foglalkozásának. Mind a császár-, mind az Adélie-pingvinek, ha a fészekrakás gondjai nem nyűgözik, kíváncsiságot árulnak el; ha jól megy a dolguk, fölkerekednek és csapatostul vonulnak a szárazföld belseje felé, nyilván hogy világot lássanak.

Mi csak mint nyári látogatók találkoztunk a császárpingvinekkel, amikor befejezték fészekrakásukat és a jó táplálkozástól megtollasodtak, megcsinosodtak: fölbukkantak a tengerből, kisétáltak, szemmel láthatólag, hogy szórakozzanak egy kicsit a költés előtt. Az Adélie-pingvinek éppen a fészken ültek, amikor a császárpingvinek odasereglettek, hogy megszemléljék a tanyánkat.

A két fajta madár rendesen figyelemre se méltetja egymást, s csak olyankor támad köztük olykor furcsa egyenlőtlen csetepaté, ha netán egyik-másik Adélie úgy véli, hogy valamelyik császárpingvin túlságosan közel merészkedett a fészkéhez. Az Adelie roppantul ért az apró csipkelődéshez, nagy szájhős, de diszkréten nyomban elhallgat, ha a császárpingvin csak a szárnyát megemelinti.

A császárpingvinek határtalanul fürkész nép, mindent apróra szeretnének kiszimatolni: messze földről elvándorolnak a motoros kocsi vagy az ember csodájára. Kirándulásaikon a vezér vontatott éles kvakvakolással tartja együtt csapatát. Egymástól messze elhaladó csapataik is így üdvözlik egymást.

Az első csapat, amely megérkezett, töviről-hegyire megvizsgálta a csónakunkat, aztán átúszott a tavon a tanyára. Amikor azután fölfedezték a kutyákat, minden más érdeklődés feledve volt. A fölfedezés után napról-napra érkeztek újabb csapatok, és egyenesen a kutyaólakhoz vették útjukat – lehetetlen volt arra nem gondolni, hogy messze földön híre ment a kutyáknak.

Találkozások alkalmával a császárpingvin nagyon szertartásos, akár társaival, akár az emberrel, vagy kutyákkal találkozik. Így egy ízben felénk, betolakodó idegenek felé közeledtek bukdácsoló sorban. Egy hatalmas "polgármester-forma" fickó vezette őket. Tekintélyes távolságra megállottak, a vén hím odabicegett hozzánk, s olyan mélyet bókolt, hogy a feje csaknem érintette a mellét. Lehajtott fővel, mormogó hangon hosszú beszédet vágott ki; beszédét befejezvén, fejét udvariasságból még egy ideig lehajtva tartotta, aztán fölemelte, csőrével akkora kört írt le, amennyire csak a nyaka engedte, és végül szemünkbe nézett, hogy vajon megértettük-e. Ha nem értettük meg – mint rendesen történni szokott – elölről kezdte.

Végtelenül türelmes volt a mi ostobaságunkkal szemben, de tábora már nem volt ilyen türelmes őhozzája, és biztosra vettek, hogy vezéruk csak zavart csinál. Csakhamar előredöcögött egy másik hím, félretolta az elsőt, mintha csak mondaná:     – Majd én megmutatom, hogy kell ezt csinálni.És elölről kezdte a műveletet.

De legszertartásosabban a kutyákkal csinálták. Három vén pingvin is bólogatott és beszélt hozzájuk egyszerre – a kutya meg ugatott, tépte a láncát, tehetetlen vágyában, hogy rájuk ronthasson.

Maguk között a császárpingvinek a világ legbékésebb teremtései, de ha szárnyaikat használják, egyforma könnyűséggel hadakoznak velük előre és hátra. Úgy látszik, minket, embereket magukhoz hasonló pingvineknek néztek, de ha valamelyikünk nagyon gyorsan járt-kelt közöttük, vagy hozzájuk nyúlt: ijedten menekültek. Védekezni csak akkor védekeztek, ha már nagyon szorongatták őket. Amikor egyik lassan vonult vissza, védekezve, mulatságosan emlékeztetett egy kis fiúra, amint kergeti a nagy; szárnyát emelgetve hátrált és csapkodott ellensége felé gyors egymásutánban. Tanácsos volt óvakodni tőle: könnyen eltörhette az embernek a karját.

Mind a két fajta pingvinnek sok ostoba mozdulata és cselekedete kétségkívül tökéletlen látásukra vezethető vissza: ennek tulajdonítható az is, hogy harc közben ütéseikkel rendesen rövidet fognak.

A császárpingvin nem mondható éppen vándormadárnak, bár tagadhatatlanul sokat vándorol, és utazgatásainak a célja jórészt rejtély marad.

Utazáson gyakran messze kilométereket sétál egyenes tartással, lassan döcögve előre alig pár ujjnyi lépésekkel. Ilyen sétáikon farkukkal egyensúlyozzák magukat: mintegy három lábon járnak. Ha azonban allkalmas hófelületre érnek, sebesen haladnak előre mellükön szánkázva, kecses tartással, izmos lábukkal hajtván magukat; az egyensúlyt

ilyenkor szárnyukkal tartják fenn, s talán egyuttal ezzel gyorsítják is siklásuk sebességét.

Nyolc pingvin látni akarta egyszer a motoros kocsinkat: fürgén szánkázva érkeztek. Egyikük, egy makacs vén legény, amelyik sehogyan se volt hajlandó kitérni bárki elől, a kerekek alá került.

Az Adélie-pingvin mindig komikus. Meglepő hirtelenséggel bukik föl a vízből, mint valami ugró báb * talpra szökik, megrázza a farkát és eltötyög dolgára. Mindig tudja, hova akar menni, mit akar csinálni, és nehéz eltérfteni szándékától.

A vízben az Adélie-pingvin sebesen iramlik tova; kering, akárcsak a disznóhal, vagy a delfin, amellyel könnyű összetéveszteni messziről. Sík jégen vagy havon olyan gyorsan jut előre, mint az élénken járó ember. De már a legkisebb repedést komoly akadálynak nézik, megállnak előtte, ha csak néhány ujjnyi is, méregetik a szemükkel, mielőtt roppant óvatosan átszöknének rajta. Ami mélyedés ennél szélesebb, azon már tobogánozva siklanak keresztül. Nagyon ritkán úsznak a vízben kacsák módjára – ha igen, nyakukat a víz alá merítik, és éppen csak a fejük látszik ki.

* Itt az angol szöveg jack-in-the-box-ot mond. Ez afféle játékszer dobozban. Ha a dobozt kinyitjuk, a báb hirtelen kiugrik belőle.

Az Adélie igazán bátor a költés időszakában. Miután rájött, hogy félnie kell az embertől, ülve marad a fészkén, hogy megvédelmezze, bármi történjék is. A fészkek között járva az embert mindenfelől hatalmas erejű csőrök fenyegetik. Védelmül térden felül érő hosszúszárú nemezcsizmát viseltünk. Az okosabbak egyike rájött, hogy hiába pazarolja erejét a csizmákra, mögénk került, és úgy igyekezett megcsípni a csőrével csizmán felül; amikor ez sikerült, szívósan csüggve maradt áldozatán, és nagyokat csapdosott szárnyaival.

Némelyiküket annyira lebilincselte a tanya, hogy mindenáron ott akartak fészkelni. Egyiküket (azt hiszem, mindig ugyanaz volt), sehogy sem lehetett visszatartani: minden nap eljött – míg csak egyszer Brocklehurst körül nem nyalábolta és magával nem vitte a vadul hadakozó legyőzhetetlen teremtést.

Az öregek élvezik a játékot; a fiatal, növésben levő madarakat egészen elfoglalja hatamas étvágyuk kielégítése. Amíg a Nimrod a jégzaj fogságában vesztegelt, tucatszámra úszkáltak a közeli nyílt víztükörben. Kacsák módjára egy csapatban úszkáltak, aztán egyikük jeladására valamennyien víz alá buktak, és a víztükör túlsó végén dugták ki a fejüket.

Október elején kezdtek gyülekezni egyenként vagy párosával a költőhelyen. Először rendesen a hímek érkeztek meg és mindjárt hozzáfogtak a fagyos föld széttúrásához, lyukakat vájtak a földbe fészkük számára, és köveket gyűjtöttek, hogy fallal vegyék körül a fészket.

Amikor a költőhely jócskán megtelt és a fészeképítés javában folyt, élénk és aggodalmas idősazk következett. Nem könnyű mesterség elegendő alkalmas apró követ összeszedni; minden egyes kőért hosszú utakat kell tenniök – így hát nagy a kísértés, és némelyikük rendszeres tolvajjá züllik. A tolvaj magatartása azonban világosan elárulja, hogy a bűnös érzi, hogy rosszat cselekszik; fürkésző pillantása, még azután is, amikor túl van már az üldöztetés veszélyén, egészen más, mint a tisztességes pingviné, amikor a verejtékkel megszerzett kővel jön hazafelé.

Egy tolvaj pingvin, miközben ült a fészkén, ellopott egyszer egy követ a szomszéd fészekből, amelynek becsületes gazdája szintén otthon volt, de gyanútlanul másfelé pillantott. Esetleg azonban hirtelen visszafordította tekintetét, és tetten érte a tolvajt: a bűnös erre elejtette a követ, és úgy tett mintha roppantul el volna foglalva egy észrevehetetlen morzsa fölcsippentésével a semleges területről. Kétségtelen tehát, hogy a pingvinnek van lelkiismerete, legalább emberi lelkiismerete – vagyis fél a rajtakapatástól.

A kőgvűjtés a fészkelő ösztön egyik erős megnyilvánulása; ha a költés előrehaladt időpontjában elvesztik a madarak a tojásaikat vagy akár a kicsinyüket: elkezdenek egészen közömbösen köveket gyűjteni helyettük. A költőhely szélén magányos, társtalan madarak tanyáztak, és azzal szórakoztak, hogy tojásokat loptak és halmoztak föl maguknak, míg csak ki nem keltek a pingvinfiókák. Attól fogva, hogy az anyák lerakták a két tojást, majd minden munkát a hímek végeztek, amelyek láthatólag mindig többségben voltak. – A jelekből ítélve némely madár egyszer sem hagyta el a fészkét a költés egész időszakán keresztül. Társuk hordta nekik az eleséget. Sok madár elvesztette párját, ha egyik-másik kutya rájuk szabadult. Ezek a madarak azután nem hagyhatták el fészkeiket – nem volt, aki helyettesítse őket.

NEGYVENHATODIK FEJEZETAz Adélie-pingvinek és fiókáik.

Legérdekesebb a költőhely, amikor kikelnek az apró fiókák. A kis fiókák ezüstös színűek vagy palaszürkék; fejük sötétebb. Az első napokban nehezen bírják emelni: csüggedten lóg alá a fejíjk, A költés után a szülők egyforma részt vesznek a kis fiókák gondozásában. Hetekig nem szabad őrizetlenul maradnia a fészeknek, máskülönben a fiókák elpusztulnának a hidegtől vagy elvinné őket a sirály.

Amikor a fiatal pingvin már egyenesen bírja a fejét, megkeződik a táplálásuk. Eleinte a szülőnek biztatnia kell a kicsinyét a táplálkozásra – csőrét és torkát csiklandozza – de ha egyszer megtanulta az evést, a szülők ám csak győzzék hordani az eleséget.

A fiókák kikelése után heteken keresztül simán folyik az élet a költőhelyen: a szülők egyike állandóan a fészekben ül, és a fiatal madarak még nem hagyják el helyüket. Később kezdődik csak meg a bonyodalom, amikor a fiatalok elkezdnek járni ide-oda; ha ilyenkor valami megzavarja a kolóniát, nagy a riadalom.

A fiókák nem ismerik sem a fészküket, sem a szüleiket, ennélfogva megesik hogy adoptáltatják magukat, s bár akadnak öregek, amelyek berzenkednek ezellen, a fiókák többnyire fészekbe jutnak ilyen módon. Lehetséges, hogy az öreg madárnak is van már fiókája, de mert ő sem ismeri a maga kicsinyeit, nem kergetheti el a betolakodót. Láttunk olykor anyamadarat, amint kínos zavarban viaskodik, hogy melengesse – négy megtermett fiókáját.

Később aztán eljön az idő, amikor mind * két szülőnek el kell hagynia a fészket, hogy táplálék után járjon a növekvő fiókák számára. A költőhely társadalmi rendje fölborul ilyenkor. A társadalmi helyzet, amely ebből a zűrzavarból kialakul, a legfigyelemreméltóbb jelenség a természetben, és amellett, hogy célját betölti, a fajt is védi. A tengerről eleséggel visszatérő szülőknek az a becsületes szándékuk, hogy fölkeresik a fészküket, hogy fiókáiknak enni adjanak, – ámde a fiókák a legelső öreget, amelyik közelükbe ér, a maguk szülőjének tartják (s talán az is, mert hisz mind egyforma), – nem találják egymást.

Az öreg madarat, amint élelemmel megrakodva közeledik, megrohanják a zajongó fiatalok, mielőtt elindulhatna fészkének a keresésére. A fiókák kényszerítik az öreget, álljon meg, és adja oda nekik, amit hozott. Az öreg szidja őket és fut előlük. De a fiókák nem hagyják magukat: követelően lépnek föl, és megkezdődik a hajsza a szülők után, amely végezetül általános felfordulásra vezet.

Az eredmény sohasem kétséges. Az egyik öreg hamarabb, a másik később, de végül is beadja a derekát; a fiatalok viselkedésében nyoma sincs ennek a határozatlanságnak: élelmességükkel és kitartásukkal mindig lehengerelik az öregeket.

Néha ez a kergetődzés messze kilométerekre e húzódik. Végül az öreg megáll, és tiltakozva átengedi az ennivalót.

Azt hinné az ember, hogy ilyen körülmények között a gyöngébb fiókáknak koppan az álluk, de nem: amennyire megfigyelhettük, nem láttunk rosszul táplált fiókát. Sarkukban vannak az öregeknek, és valamennyien elérik céljukat.

Néhány nappal azután, hogy a tojások kezdtek kikelni, napokig tartó heves hóvihar kerekedett. Ahol a hófúvás legnagyobb volt, egészen belepte a fészkeket és a madarakat, s a madarak hollétét csak a hótölcsérek árúlták el imitt-amott, amelyeknek a mélyéről nyugtalan szemek pislogtak ki. Mérsékelt számítással a fiókáknak mintegy fele áldozatul esett ennek a hóförgetegnek.

Az öreg Adélie-pingvin oda se néz a hidegnek; vastag hája és sűrű bundája megvédik. Hóviharban nyugodtan ül egy helyben, és tűri, hogy a hó betemesse. Egy ízben elmentem a költőhelyre vihar után, és egyetlen pingvint se láttam. Egyszerre csak,valami zajra fölriadtak, kiugráltak a hóból, és ott nyüzsgött a sok madár körülöttem.

Az Adélie tökéletesen erkölcsös a maga családi életében; ostobasága azonban (avagy a rövidlátása – mert ez okozza, hogy ostobáiak látszik), sok zavarra ad alkalmat. A madarak a tengerről jövet ingadozá5 nélkül elindulnak az ismert úton fészkük felé, de ha a költőhely más részébe keverednek, sokan közülök nem találnak vissza a fészkükhöz. Előfordul, hogy alig pár lépésre távozik a fészkétől, és máris elvesztj a tájékozódását – harcot kezd egy másik fészek birtokáért.

Semmi kétség, hogy a mi jelenlétünk tökéletesen fölforgatta társadalmi berendezkedésüket. Lehet, hogy ha zavartalanul maguk között vannak, nem támad köztük ilyen felfordulás és bonyodalom.

Már a puszta járkálásunk is rengeteg zűrzavart okozott. Megfélemlítve hol egyik, hol másik madár rebbent el a fészkéről és csapott le azután egy lépéssel odább egy már elfoglalt fészekre, vagy egy másikra, amelyikről éppen akkor zavartuk el a madarat.

De minden ilyen esetben, ha végül is a más fészkébe telepedett az elriasztott madár, később rendbe verődött a dolog. Amikor lecsillapodtak, gyanakodni kezdtek, és alighanem tüzetesebben szemügyre vették a tájékot: fölismerték a helyzetet. Otthagyták a "rossz" fészket, fiókástul együtt, és visszatelepedtek a maguk fészkébe, amely pedig üres volt.

Tettünk néhány kísérletet a pingvinek eszejárásának a kinyomozására. Ha közéjük és fészkük közé álltunk, hogy meggátoljuk őket a hazajutásban, a madár több ízben dühösen nekirugaszkodott, hogy elérje a fészkét. Bizonyos idő múltával azonban elkezdett elmélkedni a helyzeten, és lemondóan eltötyögött; jókora kerülő után újra megjelent, és a másik oldálról próbálkozott meg. Láthatólag roppantul meg volt lepetve, hogy a betolakodót megint csak ott találja. Ezt a furcsa csalafintaságot gyakran megfigyeltük.

Olyan ez a viselkedés, mint a fejét homokba dugó struccé, (*) amely biztonságban hiszi magát, vagy az emberé, aki behunyja a szemét a veszedelem elől. Úgy látszik, azt hiszi a pingvin, hogy ha a másik oldalra kerül, a rémes látomány majd eltűnik.

Az elveszett fiókát sohse keresik, – hiábavaló is lenne a nyomozás, mert hisz úgysem ismernék föl. Ez a tökéletlenségük tette lehetővé nekünk, hogy valamennyire rendet teremtsünk közöttük. A hóvihar után, amely sok fiókát elpusztított: azokból a fészkekből, amelyekben kettő maradt, egyet-egyet áttettünk a néptelen fészkekbe. Ezeket a fiókákat az öregek rendesen mohósággal elfogadták a magukénak.

Ha mind a két öreg a fészeknél van, mikor megzavarják őket, vagy ha az egyik élelmiszerrel éppen jön visszafelé a társához, hogy segítségére legyen, unisono hangos kvakvakolást és furcsa mozgásokat visznek végbe. A madarak nyújtogatják nyakukat és minden kvakvá-ra helyet cserélnek, előbb jobbra, aztán balra. Ezekről az udvariassági formaságokról és a szilaj zajongásről eleinte azt hittük: civakodnak.

Egy madár, amint a tengerről visszajövet hamis fészekbe tévedt, elkezdett meghitten társalogni a fészken ülő pingvinnel, de az rá se hederített. A fészken ülő tudta jól, hogy a társa éppen az imént ment csak el táplálékért, és nem bolond, hogy olyan hamar visszajöjjön, azért hát békén ült tovább, és a fülét se billentette a jövevény beszédjére. Egyszer csak észrevesszük, hogy a látogató arca elkomorul, hogy még csak válaszra se méltatják; időbe telik, míg ráeszmél, hogy tévedett és nem odahaza van.

Az Adélie-pingvinek nemigen tüntetnek érzel meikkel; bajos dolog megállapítani, vajon éreznek-e az ösztönös ragaszkodáson túlmenő vonzódást fiókáik iránt. Egynémely sajátságos eset azonban, amelyet megfigyeltunk, meglehetősen ellentmond annak a föltevésnek, amelyre hajlottunk a pingvinek szokásajnak hosszú tanulmányozása után.

(*) Ez valószínűleg csak szóbeszéd. [NF]

Egy sebesült pingvin, amelyet megpróbáltunk ápolni, elpusztult. Kevésre rá egy élő pingvint találunk mellette. Fogtuk a halottat, elvittük egy bizonyos távolságra, és kis időre rá a madár megint megjelenik. Hihetőleg fölismerte a társát a halott madárban. Az eset mindenképpen zavarbaejtő. Bizonyára könnyebb elhinni, hogy társa volt a halott, és hogy fölismerte, mintsem hogy idegen madár iránt ébredt benne ilyen érdeklődés, mert hiszen tömegesen hevertek mindig az elhullottak a költőhely körül, és az élők teljesen érzéketlenül mentek el mellettük.

Igazi szívélyesség példáival is találkoztunk olykor. Így például járás-kelésünk elriasztott egy anyát nagyon fiatal fiókája mellől; észrevette ezt egy idegen madár, és odasietett a fióka védelmére. Féloldalt billentette a fejét, mintha csak mondaná szánakozva:– Ej, ej, szegény kicsi jószág, árván maradt, segítsünk rajta!

Megsimogatta a csőrét, de a kicsi sokkal jobban meg volt rémülve, hogysem kedve lett volna enni. A noszogatás után az öreg elfordult, és letett a földre egy kis eleséget, aztán csőrével megemelintve, a fióka csőre mellé pottyantott le belőle jobbról-balról egy-egy darabot. Több ízben megfigyeltünk ilyen eseteket; a segítségül jövő idegen mindannyiszor odábbállt, mihelyt az igazi anya előkerült.

Íme, egy másik eset, amely igazi társadalmi ösztönről tanúskodik. Egy kis telepről egy híján minden tojást elhordtunk, hogy lássuk, raknak-e másikat az anyák. Nem raktak. Egy ideig csak ültek az üres fészken a madarak, aztán elszéledtek. De amikor elérkezett az egyetlen otthagyott tojás kiköltésének az ideje, majd' a fél madárkolónia visszatelepedett, és a madarak sorra kivették részüket az egyetlen madárfióka oltalmazásából.

Amikor a fiókák kifejlődnek, abbahagyják az öregek üldözését, és összegyülekeznek a víz szélén, mint akik várnak valamire. Mihelyt eljön az arra való pillanat – ők tudják, mikor – belevetik magukat a vízbe, hol csapatostul, hol egyesével, lebuknak és jó sokra ütik föl megint a fejüket, messze kint a tengeren. Ügyetlen mozdulattal buknak a víz alá és merülnek föl a vízből, de úszni – nagyszerűen úsznak.

Csodálatos, hogy ösztönük mily tökéletesen önállókká teszi ezeket a madarakat: az öregek nem viszik le őket a vízhez, nem tanítják úszni őket. Az öregek hátramaradnak, vedleni. A fiókák meg, amelyek a szárazon nőttek föl és az ennivalóról annyit tudnak, hogy az olyasvalami, ami az öregek torkában található – mikor eljön az ideje, lemennek a vízhez, vakmerően belevetik magukat a tengerbe, bár sohse tanulták, hogy megkeressék élelmüket.

Társaink közül egyesek jelentették, hogy ők látták, amikor a pingvin úszni tanítja a fiát. Ha meg is történik ez, a szokás nem általános.

Mint a császárpingvin, az Adélie is szeret nagy utakat tenni, amikor családi gondjai engedik. A nagy hóvihar után, amely százával megfosztotta őket fiókáiktól, s nem volt kit gondozniok és táplálniok: csapatostul indultak el a környék kikutatására. Kedvelt kirándulásuk volt a tó körüli út, nyomaik fölvezettek egynémelyik hegy tetejébe is, habár a rövidlátó Adélie-pingvin bizonyosan nem a kilátás kedvéért ment fel oda.

Déli irányban – ellentétben a császárpingvinekkel – nem vonultak tömegesen, de Shackletonék rábukkantak két Adélie-pingvin nyomára 130 kilométerre a tenger partjától.

A költőhelyen keletkezett zűrzavar idején találtam két agyoncsigázott Adélie-fiókát. Magammal vittem őket a kunyhóhoz, és elneveztem őket Nebukadnezárnak és Nikodémusnak. Nagy kalitkában tartottuk a madarakat a kunyhó bejárójában, és kézből etettük őket szardíniával és hal-kétszersülttel. De nem volt ínyükre az etetésnek ez a módja, és úgy kellett beleerőszakolni az ennivalót a torkukba, olyan mélyre, hogy kénytelenek legyenek lenyelni.

Néhány nap alatt egészen kezesekké váltak, és megismerték a gondozójukat. Az evésnek csak ezt az erőszakos módját ismerték. Ha föl akarták hívni a figyelmet, hogy éhesek, bekapták az ujjamat.

Nevüket röviden Nebby-re és Niky-re kurtítottuk. Ha szólítottuk őket, válaszoltak. De hasonló készséggel válaszoltak gyűjtőnevükre, a Bill-re. A költőhely lármájára föl-fölfüleltek, roppant izgatottakká váltak, és olyan kétségbeesetten ostromolták a kalitkájuk sodronyhálóját, hogy ilyenkor rendesen kivittük őket egy kis sétára. Akkor azután nem kísérlették meg, hogy eljussanak a költőhelyre, ellenkezőleg: meg voltak rémülve.

Nebukadnezár nagyon barátságos kis fickó volt; rendesen hozzám szegődött, ha kinn jártam, és futva jött, ha szólítottam. Táplálkozásuk azonban természetellenes volt, és kétségtelenül ez az oka, hogy néhány hétre rá elpusztultak.

Egyetlen ugynevezett gyűrűs pingvin – ringed penguin – jelent meg egyszer a Royds-fokon a költés évadjának a vége felé. Ez a fajta pingvin körülbelül akkora, mint az Adélie, de mozgékonyabb; az öreg Adélie-pingvinek közt messziről fehértorkú fiókának néztem. Azonban mikor lábainál fogva megemeltem, hogy megvizsgáljam,

meglepetésében visszahajlította a nyakát és megcsípte a kezemet. Ilyesmit az Adélie nem művel. Közelebbi vizsgálatra kiderült, hogy miféle fajta. Az első eset, hogy gyűrűs pingvin mutatkozott az Antarktisznak ebben a részében.

NEGYVENHETEDIK FEJEZET.Fókákról és egyebekről. *

Az első fókákkal még a jéghegyeken innen találkoztunk Új-Zélandról délnek vivő utunkban. Én magam nem láttam őket, de leírásból ráismertem, hogy ai egyik rákevő (crab-eater), a másik Weddell-fóka lehetett. Később persze tömegesen láttunk fókákat, és az egyik ok, hogy miért választottuk a Royds-fokot téli szállásunkul, éppen az, hogy ott sok volt a fóka, és nem kellett félni, hogy friss húsban hiányt szenvedünk.

A mágneses sarkról visszajövet Mackay talált két fiatal fókát, amelyek igen szokatlan módon viselkedtek: ahelyett, hogy mozdulatlanul bevárták volna, mint a legtöbb Weddell-fóka, fürgén és nagy élénkséggel elbicegtek. Később jött rá Mackay, hogy ez a két fóka az aránylag ritka Ross-fókák fajtájából való volt.

Új-Zélandra visszatérőben kiküldtem egy csoportot a fókák költőhelyére a Pram Point közelébe, hogy hátha ráakadnak megint arra a sajátságos fajta fókára, amilyennel előző este találkoztunk.

Ez a fóka vagy valami új fajtából való lehetett, vagy pedig a Ross-fóka nősténye. Kicsi állat volt, mintegy 140 centiméter hosszú; torkától a farkáig széles fehér csík a hasa alatt. A kutatás azonban eredménytelen maradt.

Hajóutunkban gyakorta láttunk albatroszokat, különösen a kormos albatroszok közül. Ez az a madár, amelyiknek a halála Coleridge-et emlékezetes költeményére (The Ancient Mariner) ihlette.*[*] Megfigyeltem egyet, amelyik olyan alacsonyan repült el a két hajó között, hogy a szárnya beleütődött a vontatókötélbe; hirtelen bukkant föl a hullámokból, amikor a Koonya orra fölemelkedett magasan a víz színe fölé.

* Ezt a fejezetet ismét Shackleton írta.[*] A második lábjegyzet hiányzik.[NF]

Sirályok (skua gull) százával füröcskéltek a tengerben, amikoriban első ízben megérkeztünk a Royds-fokra. De a legfeltűnőbb madár, amelyet expedíciónkon láttunk, az volt, amelyiket Marshall és Adams fedezett fel déli útjukban – legfeltűnőbb azért, mert a 83° 40' déli szélességen találkoztunk vele. Barna színű volt, szárnyain alul fehér csík; fejük fölött szállott el és délnek repült. Határozottan állítják, hogy nem sirály volt, amely az egyetlen a madarak között, amelyikről elképzelhető, hogy ilyen messzire merészkedik. Első déli utunkon – a Discovery-expedíció idején – csakugyan megjelent egy sirály a 80° 30' déli szélességen, kevéssel egyik kutyánk leölése után.

Ami a jegesmedvét illeti, csak annyit mondhatok, hogy jegesmedve nincsen a déli sarkvidéken.

VÉGE.

Ernest H. Shackleton1874-1922

Ernest Henry Shackleton was born at Kilkea House, County Kildare, on February 15, 1874. The Shackletons came originally from Yorkshire. The founder of the family was Abraham Shackleton, a Quaker, who moved to Ireland early in the eighteenth century and started a school at Ballitore, near Dublin. Henry Shackleton, Ernest's father, was Abraham's direct descendant in the fourth generation. Henry tried to enter the army but his poor health prevented him. Becoming a farmer instead, he settled in the green, fertile, rolling fields of County Kildare at a place called Kilkea. Ernest's mother, born Henrietta Letitia Sophia Gavan, married Henry in 1872, bringing a touch of Irish blood into an otherwise pure Anglo-Irish lineage. Ernest's birth happened to coincide with the disastrous potato crop failure, so much a part of Irish history. This meant an agricultural

depression and difficult times for farmers. Henry Shackleton was a survivalist and therefore abandoned his farm before it was too late. At the age of 33, Henry left his farm to Trinity College in Dublin and started a new career in medicine. In 1884, Dr. Shackleton crossed the water and settled in England. It was in suburban London that Ernest Shackleton spent the remainder of his boyhood years. Ernest's mother became mysteriously an invalid and remained so for the last forty years of her life. Dr. Shackleton, with help from his mother-in-law and various female relatives from Ireland, raised Ernest and the other children.

Until the age of eleven-and-a-half, Shackleton was educated at home by a governess. He then went to Fir Lodge Preparatory School, down the road from his home, Aberdeen House, in West Hill. In 1887 Ernest left Fir Lodge to go to Dulwich College. Henry desired for his son to enter the medical field but Ernest would have no part of it. Longing for the sea, Ernest left Dulwich at the end of the Lent term in 1890 and on April 19, at the age of sixteen, went to Liverpool and joined the full rigger HOGHTON TOWER, owned by the North Western Shipping Company of Liverpool. Ernest's first experience at sea belongs to sailor's folklore. The HOGHTON TOWER was bound for Valparaiso round Cape Horn. They reached Cape Horn in the middle of winter and fought against storms for nearly two months before finally rounding the Cape. Battered by the seas, the HOGHTON TOWER reached Valparaiso in the middle of August. From there she sailed for Iquique, Chile where for six weeks she loaded nitrates. The HOGHTON TOWER returned to Liverpool at the end of April, 1891, with food and water running out. It was a hard, difficult trip, especially for a sixteen-year-old old novice. Shackleton went on to spend five years sailing to and from the Far East and America. In 1896, without much difficulty, Shackleton passed for First Mate. In April 1898, he was certified as Master. At the age of twenty-four he had qualified to command a British ship anywhere on the seven seas.

In the summer of 1897, Shackleton met and became attracted to one of his sisters' friends, Emily Dorman. Ernest had just returned from a voyage to Japan aboard the FLINTSHIRE when he met the tall, dark-haired young woman "with a good figure". At the end of 1898, the FLINTSHIRE ran aground near Middlesbrough which gave him the opportunity to take leave for 24-hours in order to go home for his father's birthday on January 1. On the way, he stopped and visited The Firs, where Emily lived, and for the first time Ernest was seriously in love. Shackleton had enough of tramping to the East. To improve his standing with Emily and her father, he left the Welsh Shire Line and, early in 1899, took a position with the Union Castle Line.

The Union Castle Line belonged to the élete of the merchant service. The ships were immaculate, from their red and black funnels to their red boot topping. Used to carry mails between England and South Africa, it was the next best thing to the navy. The brasswork glistened as officers paraded in navy blue and gold braid across the decks. As a bonus, the Union Castle Line meant coming home regularly every two months instead of long and undetermined absences aboard a tramper. It was an ideal itinerary: down the Solent from Southampton, round the bulge of Africa, across the Bight of Benin, into the docks at Cape Town and back...six thousand miles each way. By December, promoted to Third Officer, Shackleton was transferred to the TINTAGEL CASTLE which was hauling troops to the Cape since, in October 1899, the Boer War had broken out. During the summer of 1900, Shackleton was in London on leave, seeing Emily when he could. Then, on September 13, Shackleton wrote to volunteer for the National Antarctic Expedition (commanded by Robert Falcon Scott), which was in the process of being organized. Four days later he visited the expedition offices in person to press home his desires. A journalist later asked Shackleton where he got the notion to become an explorer and Ernest responded, "I think it came to me during my first voyage...I felt

strangely drawn towards the mysterious south...we rounded Cape Horn in the depth of winter. It was one continuous blizzard all the way...Yet many a time, even in the midst of all this discomfort, my thoughts would go out to the southward...But strangely enough, the circumstance which actually determined me to become an explorer was a dream I had when I was twenty-two. We were beating out to New York from Gibraltar, and I dreamt I was standing on the bridge in mid-Atlantic and looking northward. It was a simple dream. I seemed to vow to myself that some day I would go to the region of ice and snow and go on and on till I came to one of the poles of the earth, the end of the axis upon which this great round ball turns". In March, 1900, Shackleton was on his second trooping voyage to South Africa in the TINTAGEL CASTLE when he met Cedric Longstaff, a lieutenant in the East Surrey Regiment. Longstaff's father, Llewellyn, happened to be the principal benefactor of the National Antarctic Expedition...he had donated £25,000 to make the expedition possible. Shackleton persuaded Cedric Longstaff to give him an introduction to his father.

The summer of 1900 was filled with uncertainty. Ernest's brother, Frank, was commissioned in the Royal Irish Fusiliers, bound for South Africa to take part in the final days, so it seemed, of the war. But front-page news was Carsten Borchgrevink, recently returned from the Antarctic where he was the first man to winter on the Antarctic continent. Shackleton's romantic imagination ran wild as he went down to Wimbledon to meet Llewellyn Longstaff. Like Shackleton, Mr. Longstaff was a Fellow of the Royal Geographic Society and, besides, would always welcome anyone who had recently seen his son. He was overwhelmed by Shackleton's personality. When Shackleton asked his help in joining the expedition, Longstaff could hardly refuse. As Shackleton returned to sea, Longstaff made it clear to Sir Clements Markham that he wanted Shackleton accepted for the expedition. Sir Clements told Scott who promptly passed the matter on to Albert Armitage as he simply "had no time to attend to it". Early in March 1901, Shackleton returned to Southampton on the CARISBROOK CASTLE to find himself part of the National Antarctic Expedition. Shackleton would depart with Scott on the historic DISCOVERY EXPEDITION to Antarctica later that summer. (NOTE: the story of the National Antarctic Expedition is written, in detail, under the chapter devoted to Robert Falcon Scott).

Shackleton became seriously ill on Scott's southern sledge journey, midway through the expedition, and had to be invalided home aboard the relief ship MORNING. As Bernacchi, with Scott's DISCOVERY EXPEDITION noted, Shackleton was "deeply disappointed & would give anything to remain. Although everyone is so anxious to return this year with the DISCOVERY few are so poor spirited as to wish to return in the MORNING". On June 12,1903, after convalescing in New Zealand, Shackleton landed in England. A huge scandal had broken out about the affairs of the DISCOVERY EXPEDITION. It seems everyone was upset about Scott remaining for a second winter in the Antarctic. The organizers had explicitly said that under no circumstances was Scott to stay for a second year...it would be considered professional incompetence to allow the DISCOVERY to be frozen in, risking being crushed by the ice. Sir Clements sent a telegram to Shackleton: "The Admiralty will undertake rescue of Discovery. Committee appointed. Come to me. I wish to consult you". The expedition organizers wanted Shackleton to sail out as chief officer on the TERRA NOVA to assist the MORNING, if necessary, to get Scott and his men back home. Shackleton declined as, according to Armitage, "he meant to return and prove to Scott 'that he---Shackleton---was a better man than Scott' ". Besides, Emily had now agreed to marry him. Meanwhile, early in October Shackleton visited Sir Clements Markham, in Markhams' words, with "full plans for another expedition". Sir Clements discouraged him and Shackleton went on to join the staff of Royal Magazine as a journalist. On January 11, 1904, after a long and nerve-racking wait, Shackleton found himself elected to the desired post of secretary to the Royal Scottish Geographical Society. He now had a full-time job and, as he wrote to Emily, "I am so happy dearest thinking about all the times which are to be in the future...we do want to settle down and have our own house at last after all these years of waiting". In London, on April 9, Ernest Shackleton and Emily Dorman were married at Christchurch, Westminster. A week before the wedding the DISCOVERY returned to New Zealand after her second season in the ice. The record southing, in which Shackleton had participated, was still intact. When Shackleton walked up the aisle with Emily he was still one of the men who had reached the Furthest South...no finer wedding present could have been given.

Shackleton discovered a new-found gift: public speaking. He made many acquaintances as secretary and was soon asked to run for Parliament. On November 16, 1904, the Dundee Courier announced that Shackleton "is to uphold the Unionist cause in the next election". On February 2, 1905, Emily gave birth to their first child, a boy. This was exciting but, unfortunately, he had no income...in mid-January he had resigned his position at the RSGS to further his political career. He subsequently finished in fourth place in the election. A time of uncertainty would prevail until early in 1907. On Monday, February 11, Shackleton was in London at the RGS. In the same room stood Roald Amundsen and Fridtjof Nansen...it was an extraordinary scene. Shackleton had come to ask for the support of the RGS and the patronage of the

King...he planned on spending the next winter in Antarctica and he only had six months to prepare.

The NIMROD Expedition1907-09

In the Geographical Journal for March, 1907, Shackleton outlined his plans, some of which subsequently had to be changed. The expedition was expected to leave New Zealand at the beginning of 1908 and proceed to winter quarters on the Antarctic continent. Here the men and stores would be landed, followed quickly by the retreat of the ship to New Zealand to prevent her from being frozen in. Shackleton announced, "The shore-party of nine or twelve men will winter with sufficient equipment to enable three separate parties to start out in the spring. One party will go east, and, if possible, across the Barrier to the new land known as King Edward VII Land, follow the coastline there south, if the coast trends south, or north if north, returning when it is considered necessary to do so. The second party will proceed south over the same route as that of the southern sledge-party of the DISCOVERY; this party will keep from fifteen to twenty miles from the coast, so as to avoid any rough ice. The third party will possibly proceed westward over the mountains, and, instead of crossing in a line due west, will strike towards the magnetic Pole. The main changes in equipment will be that Siberian ponies will be taken for the sledge journeys both east and south, and also a specially designed motor-car for the southern journey...I do not intend to sacrifice the scientific utility of the expedition to a mere record-breaking journey, but say frankly, all the same, that one of my great efforts will be to reach the southern geographical Pole. I shall in no way neglect to continue the biological, meteorological, geological and magnetic work of the DISCOVERY".

The first step was to secure an office in London. A furnished room at 9 Regent Street served as headquarters of the expedition. The staff consisted of Mr. Alfred Reid, who had gained considerable experience in connection with previous polar adventures, and a district messenger. Fortunately, there was a typing office on the same floor which could deal with the correspondence which grew from day to day. Shackleton secured estimates for the supplies from a number of different companies as he wanted the best of everything possible. Shackleton stipulated that all the goods were to be delivered in London by June 15, for the ship was to leave England on June 30. As for the ship, Shackleton's first choice was the BJORN, owned by Mr. C. Christiansen. The BJORN was a new ship, built specially for polar work, but was simply too expensive to purchase. Instead, when Shackleton returned to London after visiting Christiansen in Sandyfjord, the purchase of the NIMROD was made. At the time, the NIMROD was on a sealing venture, out of Newfoundland, but was expected to return very soon. The ship was small and old and her maximum speed under steam was hardly more than six knots, but on the other hand, she was strongly built. The NIMROD did not return as soon as Shackleton expected and when she did arrive, she had been somewhat damaged by the ice. She was inspected on Shackleton's behalf and pronounced sound. A rapid transit was made across the Atlantic and the ship arrived in the Thames on June 15, 1907. Shackleton was very disappointed when he first inspected the ship; she was run down and smelt strongly of seal-oil. In addition, she required new caulking and masts. As work began on the NIMROD, Shackleton contracted Messrs. Humphreys, of Knightsbridge, to construct the hut in which to live during the Antarctic winter. The hut would be shipped in sections aboard the NIMROD. It was made of stout fir timbering of best quality in the walls, roofs and floors. The walls were strengthened with iron cleats bolted to main posts and horizontal timbering, and the roof was reinforced with iron tie rods. The hut was lined with match-boarding and the walls and roof were covered first with strong felt, then one-inch tongued and grooved boards, followed by an additional covering of felt. Granulated cork was used as insulation. The hut was to be erected on wooden piles, driven into the ice, with rings attached to the roof so that guy ropes could be used to give additional resistance to the gales.

"The personnel of an expedition of the character I proposed is a factor on which success depends to a very large extent. The men selected must be qualified for the work, and they must also have the special qualifications required to meet polar conditions. They must be able to live together in harmony for a long period without outside communication, and it must be remembered that the men whose desires lead them to the untrodden paths of the world have generally marked individuality", Shackleton wrote. The staff:    

SHORE PARTY Sir Philip Brocklehurst, Bart., assistant geologist, and in charge of current observations.Bernard Day, electrician and motor expert.Ernest Joyce, in charge of general stores, dogs, sledges and zoological collections.Dr. A. F. Mackay, surgeon.Dr. Eric Marshall, surgeon, cartographer.G E. Marston, artist.James Murray, biologist.Raymond Priestley, geologist.William Roberts, cook.Frank Wild, in charge of provisions.

SHIP'S STAFFLieutenant Rupert England, R.H.R., Master.John K. Davis, first officer.A. L. A. Mackintosh, second officer.Dr. William Arthur Rupert Michell, surgeon.H. J. L. Dunlop, chief engineer.Alfred Cheetham, third officer and boatswain.

The work of preparing for the expedition was rapid and as the end of July approached, the stores and equipment were loaded on board the NIMROD in readiness for the voyage to New Zealand. On July 30, 1907, the NIMROD sailed from the East India Docks for Torquay. The first night was spent at Greenhithe and on the morning of the 31st the ship continued for Torquay. A detour was made when a tug overtook the NIMROD and conveyed news that the King and Queen wished to come on board to inspect the ship and equipment on Sunday, August 4. By Sunday, the ship was anchored at Cowes, and their Majesties, the King and Queen, their Royal Highnesses the Prince of Wales, the Princess Victoria, Prince Edward and the Duke of Connaught came on board. The King presented Shackleton with the Victorian Order and the Queen presented him with a Union Jack to carry on the southern sledge journey. The NIMROD sailed for Torquay early the next morning and arrived there on August 6. Farewell dinner and drinks were ingested that evening and on the morning of Wednesday, August 7, the ship sailed for New Zealand.

After calling at St. Vincent and Cape Town, the NIMROD arrived at Lyttelton, New Zealand, on November 23. The Commonwealth Government gave Shackleton £5000 and the New Zealand Government another £1,000 which allowed Shackleton to increase the number of the shore party and add additional equipment. The New Zealand Government also agreed to pay half the cost of towing the NIMROD down to the Antarctic circle so that coal could be saved. At 4 P.M. on January 1, 1908, the lines were cast off from the wharf and the NIMROD was off for the south. Thousands watched and cheers broke out as the NIMROD passed the United States' magnetic survey ship GALILEE. With the KOONYA steaming in front, Shackleton moved up close to her stern and hauled in the 4-inch wire cable to be used to tow the NIMROD south.

Everything went well until the third of January. As Mackintosh wrote, "A truly miserable day and night: everything upside down, nearly every one seasick. We exchanged signals with the KOONYA occasionally--this afternoon she enquired how our passengers were faring? We replied and told her that 'there were 20 seasick, but all cheerful'. It's blowing strong from S.W. with quite a tidy sea and swell". The weather moderated the next day but some of the crew were still very ill; Marshall, Mawson and Priestley being the worst. The first pony was lost on January 6. "Doctor" fell over onto his back in a very awkward manner. Try as they might, the poor animal could not get up so it was shot.

Gales accompanied the ships on the journey south and on January 14 the first iceberg was sighted. The next day the pack ice was sighted off the starboard bow extending all the way to the port bow. A short time later the NIMROD was on her own as the KOONYA'S tow-line was cast off.

After navigating through dense clusters of bergs, the NIMROD entered the Ross Sea on January 16, the first ship to do so without the vessel having been held up by pack-ice. January 17 found them at 70°43'S, 178°58'E. The NIMROD skirted the Barrier until January 25 at which time Shackleton gave up all hope of reaching King Edward VII Land. The pack-ice was too thick as well as being interspersed with giant icebergs. It seemed impossible to reach land, and the shortness of coal, the leaky condition of the ship, and the absolute necessity of landing all the stores and putting up the hut before the vessel left them made the situation extremely anxious for Shackleton. Fearing becoming trapped in the ice, Shackleton could see no option other than steering for McMurdo Sound. At 8 P.M. she turned to the west and on January 28 they entered McMurdo Sound. Around midnight, the frozen sea stopped them some 20 miles short of Hut Point; the ice anchor was dropped and made fast to the floe. Shackleton decided to lay off the ice-foot for a few days to give Nature a chance to break up the ice. Meanwhile, on the evening of the 29th, the sides and top of the motor-car case were removed and the wheels put on the car. On the 30th most of the beams of the pony shelter were removed so the ponies could be removed without difficulty at a moments notice. Most of them were in very poor shape and one, "Nimrod", had to be shot.

The voyage had been without accident until the morning of the 31st. The entire crew was busy unpacking the stores from the after-hatch, preparatory to landing them, when a hook on the tackle slipped and, swinging suddenly across the deck, struck Mackintosh in the right eye. He fell to the deck in great pain but was able, in a few minutes, to walk to England's cabin where Marshall examined him. It was clear that the eye must be removed so Marshall, assisted by Michell and Mackay, administered chloroform to Mackintosh and removed the eye.

At 9:30 P.M. on February 3, the ship was fast alongside the ice foot off Hut Point Peninsula. The offloading began with the motor car the first thing to go over the side. By February 12th, the stores were safely ashore. The temperatures were now consistently below -10°F. The NIMRODS' masts "were grey with the frozen spray and the bows were a coat of mail". At 10:45 P.M. on February 22, the NIMROD headed northward and arrived at Port Chalmers, New Zealand, on March 6, 1908.

It took a few more weeks to transform the hut from an empty shell to a fully furnished and functional lodging. The fifteen men had to eat, sleep, work, worry, talk and meet all their social needs for their time in Antarctica in the tiny hut. Shackleton had his own space while two men each shared the seven other cubicles.

The meteorologist, Jameson Adams, set to work building a meteorological screen on a hill near the hut to measure air temperature, wind speed / direction and evaporation. Measurements were taken nearly round the clock as Adams took them from 8 am to 8 PM and the night watchman took the 10 PM to 6 am shift. Douglas Mawson built an anemometer on the tallest ridge; wind speed was frequently recorded above 100 mph. Professor Edgeworth David made a snow gauge from spare stove and chimney parts.

Evaporation was measured by hanging measured cubes of snow and ice from rods projecting from the wall of the hut. Sometimes wind direction could be tracked by monitoring the steam plume coming from Mount Erebus. The biologist, James Murray, built a sledge which could be lowered through a crack in the ice and pulled along the bottom which scooped up a vast variety of small fish, crustacean and other marine animals. Oddly to Murray, the fish and other animals would freeze before he could get back to the hut but, once thawed out, they would spring back to life.

As the sun began to set in March, tiny details of the daily routine became major events. The weather was an important factor of everyday life; in a blizzard the chores of emptying dishwater and ashes and getting fresh ice became small feats of endurance. Night watchmans' duties were rotated every two weeks. Two men were exempted from these duties: Roberts, who was the cook, and Sir Philip Brocklehurst, whose toes were still black with frostbite (one later amputated by Marshall) after his climb of Mount Erebus. (NOTE: The successful ascent of Mount Erebus was one of the first accomplishments of the expedition. Six men, among them Douglas Mawson, measured the crater. They quickly descended by sliding down the 5000 feet in four hours). The others tended to their specialties: Adams wound the chronometers, checked instruments and did other meteorological work; Marshall, the surgeon, tended to medical needs and exercised ponies; Wild, the storekeeper, issued food to the cook, opened the cases of tinned food and dug the meat out of the

snowdrifts (penguin, seal or mutton); Joyce fed the dogs and trained them for sledge-pulling; David spent time on geological studies; Priestley and Murray worked at dredging; Mawson studied the aurora, ice structures and measured atmospheric electricity.

By midwinter, activity had declined to a lazy pace, as compared to the torrid one set earlier. Most of the men now stayed up late and Professor David, more of a late-night person than the others, organized an 11 o'clock tea. Nearly all were sound asleep by 1 am. First up at 7:30 am would be Roberts, to start breakfast, and Armitage, to feed the ponies. At 8:30 am the rest would get up and at 8:45 the table was lowered from the roof. At 9:00 they all sat down to porridge and hot milk. Occasionally a second course would follow consisting of bottled fruit and tea, followed by a smoke. Lunch was at 1:00 PM and dinner was at 6:45 sharp. On birthdays and midwinter's day (June 21), they broke the rules and celebrated with what Shackleton described as "a sort of mild spree". Optimism was high through the six-month night. "We were all busy and there was little cause for us to find the time hung heavy on our hands; the winter months sped by". Evidently, the men were actually thrilled when winter ended since they were obviously getting on each others' nerves. One night, as Marshall writes, Wild "showed sign of being drunk, & was anxious to make a row, but after a little while persuaded him to turn in. Was seriously thinking of getting him outside to give me a hand with the ponies & then giving him a damn good hammering, as he was becoming very talkative and objectionable & Shacks was evidently afraid to come out and stop him, although awake and hearing all said". At the beginning of August, Mackay suddenly went for Roberts, the cook, with whom he shared a cubicle. It seems that Roberts put his feet on Mackay's chest to lace up his boots. Mackay, much bigger and stronger, tried to wring Robert's neck and may have succeeded if Mawson, who was bigger and stronger still, hadn't stepped in. In Priestley's words, it was "lucky evidently that the Winter (was) almost over instead of just beginning". In Marshall's version, Shackleton was "in a regular panic about it & threatens he will shoot (Mackay). This is the 2nd time he has said (so). He is so easily frightened that he is not to be trusted with a pistol...Mac quite all right but slightly eccentric & quick tempered".

Spring arrived and the plans, worked out over the winter, were ready to be launched. Shackleton, Adams, Marshall and Wild would head south for the Pole, a 1700-mile trek; Edgeworth David (aged 50) would lead the Northern Party on a 1260-mile journey towards the South Magnetic Pole, with Mackay (aged 30) and Mawson (aged 26) as teammates. The Northern Party had no experience of polar exploration. They would have to pull sledges and supplies without the help of dogs or ponies. At the start, they used the motor car to establish two depots 10 and 15 miles from the hut on Cape Royds. On September 25 the engine overheated and they actually had to wait in the blistering cold for it to cool down. When the party finally left winter quarters the next day, Mackay's wrist was in a sling after an accident with the car's starter. It seemed a rather ominous beginning to a journey into the unknown with the doctor's arm in a sling! By November 1 they were becoming worried at the rate the rations were diminishing. Appetite consumed them but by November 5 they limited themselves to one plasmon biscuit each for breakfast and dinner, discovering in the process that "we had never before fully realised how very nice those plasmon biscuits were". The three explorers used the traditional method for dividing food: the cook would put three biscuits on the cooker cover, then point to one, asking one of the others with his back turned, "Whose?" By this means there would be no opportunity to create a squabble over who was getting the biggest portion. In the beginning, no attention was paid to the crumbs; by early November they were breaking their biscuits over their pannikins to make sure they left no precious crumbs. Even their conversation was dominated by food as David wrote, "We could discuss nothing but the different dishes with which we had been regaled in our former lifetime at various famous restaurants and hotels".

On December 11, a mile short of the Drygalski Ice Tongue, David fell into a crevasse only 20 feet from their tent. He managed to save himself, catching the edge on either side but needed Mawson's assistance, with an ice ax, to pull him out. The next day it was Mackay's turn. While hunting for emperor penguins he fell through an ice bridge up to his waist in water. On December 20, Mawson had a brush with death. David heard a "slight crash" and noticed that Mawson had disappeared. David and Mackay found him dangling over a deep crevasse, suspended by his harness attached to the sledge rope. Mawson, ever the curious scientist, took the opportunity to inspect the ice crystals on the crevasse wall. David wrote, "After this episode we were extra cautious in crossing the crevasses, but the ice was simply seamed with them. Twice when our sledge was being dragged up ice-pressure ridges it rolled over sideways with one runner in a crevasse and once the whole sledge all but disappeared into a crevasse...Had it gone down completely it would certainly have dragged the three of us down with it, as it weighed nearly one-third of a ton".

On Christmas day, David and Mawson offered Mackay, who was suffering from snow-blindness, some sennegrass--dried Norwegian grass they used to line their boots--as substitute pipe tobacco. It was the only

gift they had to offer. The sun and cold temperatures constantly wreaked havoc with the men. Mawson's right cheek and the tip of David's nose were frostbitten while the sun burned David's hands. The cold stripped skin from their lips and Mawson woke each morning with his mouth glued shut from congealed blood. As they neared the magnetic pole, David wrote, "The heavy runners of the sledge rustled gently as they crushed the crystals by the thousand". On January 15,1909, Mawson's compass was only 15 minutes off the vertical.

The men depoted most of the heavy gear and set out on a forced march to the pole. Arriving a short time later, David and Mackay planted a flagpole at the spot. The three men bared their heads, hoisted the Union Jack and posed in front of the camera which David triggered with a string. David said, "I hearby take possession of this area now containing the Magnetic Pole for the British Empire" and then gave three cheers for His Majesty King Edward VII. They were awfully tired but still managed to march back to the depot (24 miles) where they slept soundly knowing that they had indeed accomplished their objective. Now they just had to find a way to stay alive.

They calculated that in order to reach the Drygalski depot and signal the NIMROD on time, they would need to average nearly 17 miles a day from January 17 to February 1. On February 5, 1909, they were within one mile of the Drygalski depot. With the NIMROD nowhere in sight, their attention was turned to the possibility of striking out for Ross Island. About this time two sudden explosions were heard in the distance. Mawson screamed, "A gun from the ship!" and scrambled out of the tent. Mackay and David followed close behind and as they emerged, Mawson was already 300 feet away. Mawson turned and shouted, "Bring something to wave!" David grabbed a rucksack and "as I ran forward this time, what a sight met my gaze.

 L to R: Mackay, David, Mawson

There was the dear old NIMROD, not a quarter of a mile away, steaming straight towards us up the inlet..." Mackay shouted to the ship, "Mawson has fallen down a crevasse, and we got to the Magnetic Pole!" By the afternoon the men were enjoying tea aboard the NIMROD. Later they enjoyed their first bath in over four months, followed by a wonderful dinner. As the men went to bed, David wrote, "None but those whose bed for months has been on snow and ice can realise the luxury of a real bunk, blankets and pillow, in a snug little cabin". They had traveled 1260 miles with no dogs or ponies in the coldest place on earth. Upon completion of the trek, David felt they could have done it in half the time with a team of dogs. "We pioneered a route to the magnetic pole and we hope that the path thus found will prove of use to future observers".

As for Shackleton and the South Pole crew, their journey began at 10 am, under a cloudless sky with the wind at their backs, on October 29, 1908. At lunchtime, one of the Manchurian ponies, "Grisi", kicked Adams just below the kneecap and exposed the bone. This was not a good beginning. Even the light played tricks with them. When clouds and mist blocked the sun, they could see no shadows. As a result, ledges, mounds and gullies disappeared into a dead, flat white plain. Crevasses were difficult to spot. Covered only by fragile snowcrust, they were often so deep they could not see the bottom nor hear an echo from an object they dropped into them. On November 5 Wild, Adams, Marshall and "Grisi" were all rescued from crevasses---Marshall twice. Three days later Marshall and Wild pitched their tent right next to an unseen crevasse. The next day another pony slipped into an abyss and was fortunately saved from the brink of death. As with David and his men, Shackleton's party also experienced deep hunger. Three weeks out Shackleton complained in his diary about the size of their rations...if they were this hungry now, what will it be like "later when we are really hungry?" They shot "Chinaman", the weakest pony, on November 21, ate some of the meat and laid a depot with the rest for when they returned. Adams, unable to sleep for days from a toothache, let Marshall extract it without the use of tooth-pulling equipment. After 29 days, on November 26, they passed the previous "furthest south" record set by Robert Scott in 1902. In early December two more ponies were shot. Shackleton, with his soft heart for animals, believed he heard the

last pony, "Socks", whinnying "all night for his lost companions". They started eating pony maize. Shackleton remained optimistic, reporting on December 11 that, "Difficulties are just things to overcome, after all". Christmas was celebrated at 9500 feet with plum pudding, medical brandy, cocoa, a spoonful of créme de menthe and cigars. They still had 250 miles between themselves and the pole, with only three weeks' biscuits left. "Tomorrow we will throw away everything except the most absolute necessities", Shackleton wrote. "Everytime we reach the top of a ridge we say 'perhaps this is the last', but it never is the last", he wrote. On December 27th they reached the polar plateau at an altitude of 10,200 feet. The weather was severe as a strong headwind chilled them to the bone. On December 30 a blizzard held them to only 4 miles traveling. They were weak from a lack of food and their hands and feet were always on the verge of frostbite. By January 2, 1909, Shackleton was near the breaking point. "I cannot think of failure yet. I must look at the matter sensibly and consider the lives of those who are with me...man can only do his best..." Two days later he wrote, "The end is in sight. We can only go for three more days at the most, for we are weakening rapidly". They fought through a blizzard on January 4, 5 and 6. On January 7, only 100 miles from the pole, a howling blizzard kept them in their sleeping bags all day. It was the same on January 8. The end of their southern journey began at 4 am on January 9. They left the sledge, tent and food at the camp and took only the Union Jack, a brass cylinder containing stamps and documents to mark their farthest south, camera, glasses and a compass. Their farthest south was reached at 9 am: 88°23'S, longitude 162°--just 97 miles from the South Pole.

They planted the flag, stayed a few minutes, and then turned round and headed for home. The strong winds which worked against them on their trip south now helped them on their return. For two weeks they traveled quickly with the sledge rushing, under sail, down ice falls and over crevasses. One day, January 19, they made 29 miles. By the morning of January 26 they had only tea, cocoa and a little pony maize left. That day they traveled 16 miles over "the worst surfaces and most dangerous crevasses we have ever encountered". On February 13 they reached the depot with "Chinaman's" carcass, which "tasted splendid". They found the Bluff depot on February 23. When spotted, Shackleton wrote, "It seemed to be quite close and the flags were waving and dancing as though to say 'Come, here I am, come and feed. After months of want and hunger, we suddenly found ourselves able to have meals fit for the gods, and with appetites the gods might have envied". By this time Marshall was suffering badly from dysentery. On February 27 Shackleton decided to leave Marshall and Adams behind while he and Wild took off for Hut Point.

 Farthest South: Janurary 9, 1909

When they arrived, they found a letter telling them that the NIMROD had picked up the magnetic pole party and would shelter near the glacier tongue until February 26. It was now February 28. After a bad night, they burned the magnetic hut and shortly thereafter the NIMROD appeared. By 11 am they were on board and three hours later Shackleton led a rescue party for Marshall and Adams. At 1 am on March 4, all were safe on board the NIMROD; they had walked 1700 miles.

The winter season was approaching. McMurdo Sound was already white and choked with the freezing sea. As Mackay put it, "So the end of the business is that (we are) homeward bound, bumping our way through this season's ice, which is the form of pantiles, some three or four inches thick. I have left a great many things behind that I am very sorry to lose". As the NIMROD sailed past Cape Royds, Shackleton wrote that, "we all turned out to give three cheers and to take a last look at the place where we had spent so many happy days. The hut was not exactly a palatial residence...but, on the other hand it had been our home for a year that would always live in our memories...We watched the little hut fade away in the distance with feelings almost of sadness, and there were few men aboard who did not cherish a hope that some day they would once more live strenuous days under the shadow of mighty Erebus".

The Trans-Antarctic Expedition 1914-1917 In Shackleton's own words, "After the conquest of the South Pole by Amundsen who, by a narrow margin of days only, was in advance of the British Expedition under Scott, there remained but one great main object of Antarctic journeyings--the crossing of the South Polar continent from sea to sea".

When Shackleton returned from the NIMROD EXPEDITION, on which an attempt was made to plant the British flag on the South Pole, attention was turned towards the crossing of the continent as Shackleton felt certain that either Amundsen or Scott would succeed where he had failed, just 97 miles from his goal.

Shackleton felt that the first crossing of the Antarctic Continent, from sea to sea via the Pole, apart from its historic value, would be a journey of great scientific importance. The distance would be roughly 1800 miles, and the first half of this, from the Weddell Sea to the Pole, would be over unexplored territory. Shackleton intended on taking continuous magnetic observations as the glaciologist and geologist studied ice formations and the mountains of Victoria Land. While the Trans-continental party worked its way across the continent, other scientific parties would operate from the base on the Weddell Sea. One sledging party would travel towards Graham Land, making observations and collecting geological specimens while another party would travel eastward toward Enderby Land conducting the same types of studies. A third party would remain at the base to study the fauna of the land and sea and the meteorological conditions. From the Ross Sea base in McMurdo Sound, another party would push southward to await the arrival of the Trans-continental party at the top of the Beardmore Glacier. Two ships were required for the expedition. The ENDURANCE would be used to transport the Trans-continental party to the Weddell Sea and would afterwards explore the shores of the coastline. She was constructed at Sandefjord by the famous Norwegian builder, Christensen. She was barquentine rigged and had triple-expansion engines which gave her a speed under steam of 9 to 10 knots. Some 350 tons, she was built of selected pine, oak and greenheart. Fully equipped, she cost the Expedition £14,000. AURORA, the ship used to take out the Ross Sea Party, was purchased from Douglas Mawson. She was very similar to the TERRA NOVA of Scott's expedition.

Preparations were started in the middle of 1913 but no public announcement was made until January 13, 1914. After the announcement, Shackleton was flooded with applications from eager members of the community to join the adventure. Nearly 5,000 applications were received from which 56 men were picked. In March, the promised financial help fell through so Shackleton immediately set about appealing for help. The funds were raised to complete the purchases with the largest contributors being the late Sir James Caird (£24,000), the British Government (£10,000) and the Royal Geographical Society (£1,000). Most of the Public Schools of England and Scotland helped the Expedition to purchase the dog teams--each dog was named after a school that contributed. The AURORA was purchased and Mackintosh was sent to Australia to take charge of her.

In this chapter, you will read of the most incredible, in my opinion, adventure of this era. What makes it even more remarkable is the fact that all men from the Trans-continental party made it back alive. Unfortunately, the same can not be said for the Ross Sea Party, whose story will be told in the next chapter.

Towards the end of July all was ready when suddenly the war clouds darkened over Europe. Arrangements had been made for the ENDURANCE to proceed to Cowes to be inspected by His Majesty on the Monday of Cowes week. But on the Friday before, Shackleton received a message saying the King would not be able to go. They sailed from London on Friday, August 1, 1914, and anchored off Southend all Saturday. On Sunday afternoon Shackleton took the ship off Margate and on Monday morning Shackleton went ashore and read in the morning paper the order for general mobilization. Shackleton immediately returned to the ship, gathered all hands, and told them of his intention to telegram the Admiralty offering the ships, stores and services to the country in the event of war breaking out. It was requested that in the declaration of war, the Expedition would be considered a single unit as there were enough trained men among them to man a destroyer. Within an hour after sending the telegram, Shackleton received a wire from the Admiralty saying "Proceed". Within two hours, another arrived from Winston Churchill in which he thanked them for their offer but desired that the Expedition go on. The ENDURANCE sailed on to Plymouth and on Tuesday the King sent for Shackleton and handed him the Union Jack to carry on the Expedition. That night, at midnight, war broke out. On the following Saturday, August 8, the ENDURANCE sailed from Plymouth.

The voyage out to Buenos Aires was uneventful and on October 26 they sailed from that port for South Georgia. For a month, final preparations were made for the assault. According to many, the war would be over within six months so when it came time to leave for the south, they left with no regrets.

The Leader

Shackleton wrote, "I had decided to leave South Georgia about December 5, and in intervals of final preparation scanned again the plans for the voyage to winter quarters. What welcome was the Weddell Sea preparing for us? The whaling

captains at South Georgia were generously ready to share with me their knowledge of the waters in which they pursued their trade, and, while confirming earlier information as to the extreme severity of the ice conditions in this sector of the Antarctic, they were able to give advice that was worth attention...I knew that the ice had come far north that season, and, after listening to the suggestions of the whaling captains, had decided to steer to the South Sandwich Group, round Ultima Thule, and work as far to the eastward as the fifteenth meridian west longitude before pushing south. The whalers emphasized the difficulty of getting through the ice in the neighborhood of the South Sandwich Group. They told me they had often seen the floes come right up to the Group in the summertime, and they thought the Expedition would have to push through heavy pack in order to reach the Weddell Sea. Probably the best time to get into the Weddell Sea would be the end of February or the beginning of March. The whalers had gone right round the South Sandwich Group and they were familiar with the conditions. The predictions they made had induced me to take the deck-load of coal, for if we had to fight our way through to Coats' Land we would need every ton of fuel the ship could carry.

I hoped that by first moving to the east as far as the fifteenth meridian west we would be able to go south through looser ice, pick up Coats' Land and finally reach Vahsel Bay, where Filchner made his attempt at landing in 1912. Two considerations were occupying my mind at this juncture. I was anxious for certain reasons to winter the ENDURANCE in the Weddell Sea, but the difficulty of finding a safe harbor might be very great. If no safe harbor could be found, the ship must winter at South Georgia. It seemed to me hopeless now to think of making the journey across the continent in the first summer, as the season was far advanced and the ice conditions were likely to prove unfavorable. In view of the possibility of wintering the ship in the ice, we took extra clothing from the stores at the various stations in South Georgia". The day of departure arrived. The order was given to heave anchor at 8:45 a.m. on December 5, 1914 and the last link with civilization was broken. The morning was dull and overcast, with occasional gusts of snow and sleet. The long days of preparation were over and the adventure lay ahead.

The ENDURANCE left under steam and sail to the southeast. The course was laid to clear them of the coastline of South Georgia and then south of South Thule, Sandwich Group. On December 6, they passed two bergs, several growlers and numerous lumps of ice. Fifteen miles north of Sanders Island, the ENDURANCE was confronted by a belt of heavy pack-ice, half a mile broad extending north and south. The noon latitude had been 57°26'S which left Shackleton uneasy finding pack-ice so far north. This first encounter was only a portent of things to come. The situation became dangerous that night as they pushed into the pack in the hope of reaching open water beyond. Unfortunately, they found themselves after dark in a pool which grew smaller and smaller. The ice ground against the ship in a heavy swell as Shackleton and Worsley remained on deck all night in an attempt to dodge the pack. It was early in the morning before the ENDURANCE was able to get clear. They went east to find better ice and five hours later succeeded in rounding the pack. Sails were once again set. Shackleton wrote of the ice, "As the pack gets closer the congested areas grow larger and the parts are jammed harder until it becomes 'closer pack'...where the parts do not fit closely there is, of course, open water, which freezes over in a few hours after giving off volumes of 'frost smoke'. In obedience to renewed pressure this young ice 'rafts', thus forming double thicknesses of a toffee-like consistency...the opposing edges of heavy floes rear up in slow and almost silent conflict till high 'hedgerows' are formed round each part of the puzzle...All through the winter the drifting pack changes--grows by freezing, thickens by rafting and corrugates by pressure".

By early January they had shifted only a few miles further south. Frustration of the crewmembers was relieved on January 5 as a football game was played on the ice. Everyone was having fun until the ship's captain, Frank Worsley, fell through rotten ice and had to be rescued. Another perceived problem was the killer whales. Spotting a seal, the creatures would dive to great depths and then smash through the ice, seizing the seal in it's mouth. The expedition found a hole 25 feet in diameter that had been created by a killer whale. As photographer Frank Hurley took a dog team over the thin ice, he would hear whales blowing behind him. He would quickly dash for solid, thick ice with "No need to shout 'mush' and swing the lash. The whip of terror had cracked over their heads and they flew before it. The whales behind...broke through the thin ice as though it were tissue paper, and, I fancy, were so staggered by the strange sight that met their eyes, that for a moment they hesitated. Had they gone ahead and attacked us in front, our chances of escape would have been slim indeed...Never in my life have I looked upon more loathsome creatures".

By the 19th of January, the ENDURANCE was solidly frozen in. Their position was 76°34'S, longitude, 31°30'W. A sounding was taken which found them in 312 fathoms, finding mud, sand and pebbles. "Icebergs hang upside down in the sky; the land appears as layers of silvery or golden cloud. Cloud-banks look like land, icebergs masquerade as islands...". The ship was now drifting southwest with the floes. The ship's rudder became dangerously jammed on the 21st from the heavy ice which had to be cut away with ice-chisels constructed from heavy pieces of iron with 6-foot wooden handles.Just before midnight on January 24, a crack developed in the ice some five yards wide and a mile long, only fifty yards ahead of the ship. The crack widened to a quarter of a mile by 10 a.m. on the 25th, and for three hours Shackleton tried to force the ship into the opening with engines at full speed ahead and all sails set. The only result was a clearing of the ice from the rudder. Later in the day, Crean and two other men were chipping away at a large chunk of ice that had lodged under the ship when suddenly the ice broke away, shooting upward and overturning, pinning Crean between the ice and the handle of an ll-foot iron pincher. He only suffered from some bad bruises but the thick iron bar fared worse..it had been bent against him to an angle of 45°.

The days that followed were uneventful. On the 27th, Shackleton decided to put the fires out. They had been burning coal at the rate of a half a ton each day in order to keep steam in the boilers. With only 67 tons remaining, representing 33 day's steaming, no more could be afforded as they remained stuck in the ice. Land was sighted to the east and south when the horizon was clear. By the 31st, the ship had drifted eight miles to the west. James and Hudson rigged the wireless in the hope of hearing the monthly transmission from the Falkland Islands. Nothing was heard. The sun, which had been above the horizon for two months, set at midnight on February 17th. On the 22nd the ENDURANCE reached the farthest south point of her drift, touching the 77th parallel of latitude in longitude 35°W. The summer was gone. Temperatures fell to -10°F at 2 a.m. on February 22. Shackleton wrote, "I could not doubt now that the ENDURANCE was confined for the winter...The seals were disappearing and the birds were leaving us. The land showed still in fair weather on the distant horizon, but it was beyond our reach now, and regrets for havens that lay behind us were vain. 'We must wait for the spring, which may bring us better fortune. If I had guessed a month ago that the ice would grip us here, I would have established our base at one of the landing places at the great glacier. But there seemed no reason to anticipate then that the fates would prove unkind...My chief anxiety is the drift. Where will the vagrant winds and currents carry the ship during the long winter months that are ahead of us? We will go west, no doubt, but how far? And will it be possible to break out of the pack early in the spring and reach Vahsel Bay or some other suitable landing-place? These are momentous questions for us'". On February 24 ship routine ceased...the ENDURANCE became the winter quarters.

The "Ritz", as they called their new winter quarters, was firmly caught between gigantic floes which could crush her easily. Shackleton ordered the sides of the ship cleared so that nothing would prevent her from rising above the ice as it pressed in against her sides. The men continued to take out their frustrations on the ice as football and hockey games were regularly played. On May 1 they said good-bye to the sun and the 70-day Antarctic winter night began. Oddly, on May 8 the sun rose at 11 a.m. and set 40 minutes later, rose again at 1:10 p.m. and set 10 minutes later. The navigation officer, who had announced its final disappearance a week earlier, had to explain to his jeering friends that it was not a mistake, it was a refraction of 2° more than normal. They celebrated Empire Day, May 24, singing patriotic songs. On June 15 Frank Wild, second-in-command, started his favorite team of dogs (a 6 to 4 favorite) in the first ever Antarctic Derby. With five teams competing, Wild's team, pulling 910 pounds, or 130 pounds per dog, covered the 700-yard race with a winning time of 2 minutes and 16 seconds. All 28 men had a bet and winnings were paid in chocolate and cigarettes.

A bi-weekly performance, cleaning the Ritz Beautiful sunrise glows on the horizon came early in July. At midnight on the 11th, the temperature was -23°F. The most severe blizzard experienced to date in the the Weddell Sea swept down upon them on the evening of the 13th. By morning, the kennels to the windward side of the ship were buried under five feet of snow. By evening, the wind reached 70 miles per hour and the ship trembled under the attack. At least a 100 tons of snow piled up against the bow and port sides. Pressure from the ice increasingly became a cause for concern. Distant rumblings and

the appearance of formidable ice ridges gradually approached the ship. Shackleton wrote, "The ice is rafting up to a height of 10 or 15 ft. in places, the opposing floes are moving against one another at the rate of about 200 yds. per hour. The noise resembles the roar of heavy, distant surf. Standing on the stirring ice one can imagine it is disturbed by the breathing and tossing of a mighty giant below". By the middle of September they were running out of fresh meat for the dogs. The seals and penguins had disappeared altogether and it had been nearly five months since a seal had been killed.

The men got an Emperor penguin on the 23rd. On the following day Wild, Hurley, Macklin and McIlroy took their teams to the Stained Berg, about seven miles west of the ship, and on their way back got a female crab-eater, which they killed and skinned. They climbed the berg and at an elevation of 110 feet could see no land. By the end of September, the roar of the pressure grew louder with areas of disturbance rapidly approaching the ship.

The Beginning of the EndSunday, October 23rd, marked the beginning of the end. Their position was 69°11'S, longitude 51°5'W. At 6:45 p.m. the ship sustained heavy pressure in a dangerous position. The ENDURANCE groaned as her starboard quarter was forced against the floe, twisting the stern-post and buckling the planking. She immediately began to leak. The bilge pumps were started at 8 p.m. and by morning the leak was being kept in check. Then came Wednesday, October 27. Shackleton wrote, "The position was lat. 69°5'S, long. 51°30'W. The temperature was -8.5° Fahr., a gentle southerly breeze was blowing and the sun shone in a clear sky. 'After long months of ceaseless anxiety and strain, after times when hope beat high and times when the outlook was black indeed, we have been compelled to abandon the ship, which is crushed beyond all hope of ever being righted, we are alive and well, and we have stores and equipment for the task that lies before us. The task is to reach land with all the members of the Expedition. It is hard to write what I feel". She had drifted for at least 1186 miles and were 346 miles from Paulet Island, the nearest point where there was any possibility of finding food and shelter. A small hut was built there by Otto Nordenskjöld's Swedish expedition in 1902 and was filled with stores left by an Argentine relief ship. Shackleton knew of these stores because he was the person who purchased the stores in London on behalf of the Argentine Government.

The End Shackleton ordered the boats, gear, provisions and sledges lowered to the floe. The ENDURANCE had been locked in the ice for 281 days. The 28 men pitched five tents 100 yards from the ship but were forced to move when a pressure ridge started to split the ice beneath them. "Ocean Camp" was established on a thick, heavy floe about a mile and a half from the wreck. On November 21, 1915, the ENDURANCE raised its stern and slipped beneath the ice, coming to rest at the bottom of the Weddell Sea. The ice was rotting around them so on December 20, Shackleton decided to abandon Ocean Camp and march westward to reduce the distance to Paulet Island. Christmas was celebrated on December 22 with their last good meal for eight months. Two of the boats were now man-hauled, in relays, from Ocean Camp: the JAMES CAIRD and DUDLEY DOCKER, with the STANCOMB WILLS being left behind. If their ice floe disintegrated, the 28 men would jam into the two boats, each measuring 20 feet in length, to be at the mercy of the Weddell Sea. On December 29, with the ice too cracked to carry them, they set up camp on a solid floe, but it cracked during the night as well. They shifted to a strong, old floe, surrounded by ice too soft to sledge over, but with not enough open water to launch the boats. Adrift on their new "home", they crossed the Antarctic Circle on New Year's Eve. Shackleton wrote, "Thus, after a year's incessant battle with the ice, we had returned...to almost the same latitude we had left with such high hopes and aspirations twelve months previously; but under what different conditions now! Our ship crushed and lost and we ourselves drifting on a piece of ice at the mercy of the winds". Meanwhile, Wild

returned to Ocean Camp to retrieve the STANCOMB WILLS.

The ice disintegrated to the point where they were forced into the boats on April 9. The floe split directly beneath them and two hours later the channels opened wide enough for them to throw their stores aboard the boats and cast off for a three-mile stretch of open water a short distance away. The DUDLEY DOCKER got caught between two ice floes but the JAMES CAIRD was able to pull her free. By evening they had retreated to a new floe and once again hauled up the boats, pitched tents and lit the blubber stove.

The next day the boats were pushed into the water and by 11 a.m. they had reached a stretch of open water. On April 12, Shackleton discovered that instead of making good progress to the west, they had actually drifted 30 miles to the east. Elephant Island, in the South Shetlands, appeared to them in the north-northwest. A gale suddenly came up and separated the DUDLEY DOCKER from the others. She made for a narrow rocky beach and to their delight, the others were soon sighted making for the same area. Shackleton, in the STANCOMB WILLS, was the first to land. When all were ashore, the men were running around the beach as if they'd just discovered a keg of rum...they simply were ecstatic from touching land for the first time in 16 months.

 Landing at Elephant Island

They knew they couldn't camp here for long so Wild, Marsten, Crean, Vincent and McCarthy left the next morning in the STANCOMB WILLS to locate a safe camping area. By nightfall, the men still had not returned which, once again, brought much anxiety to Shackleton and the others. At 8 p.m. they heard a hail in the distance. They couldn't see anything at first but out of the darkness like a ghost came the boat and men. They had located a nice, sandy spit about 7 miles west of them. After a lengthy struggle, the new camp was set up at the spit which they named Cape Wild...it was April 17, 1916. Shackleton wrote, "As we clustered round the blubber stove, with the acrid smoke blowing in our faces, we were quite a cheerful company...Life was not so bad. We ate our evening meal while the snow drifted down from the surface of the glacier and our chilled bodies grew warm". At 2 a.m. Shackleton felt a wave come up under his tent so they quickly relocated to a group of high rocks at the end of the spit. For the next week, Shackleton planned his dangerous voyage to South Georgia, 800 miles distant. As the question remained concerning their rescue, the whaling station on South Georgia seemed the only answer. The ocean south of Cape Horn in the middle of May was known to be the most storm-swept area of water in the world.

The men would have to face these conditions in a small, open boat for an anticipated month's voyage to South Georgia. Although Wild wanted to go, Shackleton refused as he wanted Wild to hold the party together on Elephant Island until the rescue. If by spring they hadn't returned, Wild was to lead the men to Deception Island. On Easter Monday, April 24, the men launched the STANCOMB WILLS and loaded her with stores, gear and ballast which would be transferred to the JAMES CAIRD when the heavier boat was launched. The ballast consisted of bags made from blankets and filled with sand. Some 250 pounds of ice was gathered to supply fresh drinking water. As for instruments, they had a sextant, aneroid, prismatic compass, anchor, some charts and a pair of binoculars. As the JAMES CAIRD was launched, the swell suddenly increased causing many to get soaked to the waist...a serious matter in that climate. When the JAMES CAIRD was afloat in the surf, she nearly capsized before the men could steer her clear of the rocks as Vincent and the carpenter were tossed into the water. This was terrible luck as it would be very difficult to get their clothes dried once underway. But soon they were free from the heavy surf and rocks. The STANCOMB WILLS came alongside, transferred her load, and headed back to the shore for the next load. This time she had to be beached and, as a consequence, the sea lapped right up over the stern. The boat had to be overturned to dump the water out before she could be reloaded...all were soaked to the skin. By midday, the JAMES CAIRD was ready for the voyage. The crew of the STANCOMB WILLS shook hands with those in the JAMES CAIRD, exchanging their last good wishes as the boats bumped together and then the JAMES CAIRD cut loose, setting the jib for the northeast. Shackleton, along with Worsley, Crean, McNeish, McCarthy and Vincent, began a voyage of a lifetime.

The departure was celebrated on Elephant Island with a two-week blizzard. Wild decided to make a hut from the two remaining boats and scraps of old tent fabric. Parallel stone walls were erected to support the boats which were laid side by side. Tent fabric and sail material was stretched over the upturned hulls to keep the rain and snow out while tent canvas was used for the walls. A blubber stove was set up and the second engineer, A. Kerr, made a tin chimney out of biscuit case linings. Celluloid windows were constructed with panes from a photograph case. Water was always a problem. As the temperature rose to just above freezing, drainage was nearly nonexistent within the structure...one day they bailed out 160 gallons of water. Midwinter's Day was celebrated on June 22 with a drink made from hot water, ginger, sugar and a teaspoon of methylated spirits. At Saturday night concerts, Hussey would play his banjo as the men sang vulgar songs about each other. By the beginning of August, food was starting to become in short supply. They dug up old seal bones and stewed them in sea water along with seaweed, which they found "very tasty". The last of the methylated spirits was drank on August 12 and from that date forward their toasting was done with hot water and ginger. The surgeons, McIlroy and Macklin, amputated the frostbitten toes of Blackborrow's feet by the light of the blubber stove.

Meanwhile, the JAMES CAIRD was making 3 mph between the icebergs. Worsley imagined structures and creatures etched into the mighty bergs as he described, "Swans of weird shape pecked at our planks, a gondola steered by a giraffe ran foul of us, which much amused a duck sitting on a crocodile's head. Just then a bear, leaning over the top of a mosque, nearly clawed our sail...All the strange, fantastic shapes rose and fell in stately cadence with a rustling, whispering sound and hollow echoes to the thudding seas...". They were making a fairly good distance each day...some 60 to 70 miles. But the going was very rough. The sleeping bags became soaked making it increasingly difficult to find warmth. The boulders taken aboard for ballast had to be shifted continually in order to trim the boat and give access to the pump, which became clogged with hairs from the moulting sleeping bags and finneskoe. The four reindeer sleeping bags shed their hair freely from the constant dampness and soon became quite bald. Their legs were chafed by the wet clothing, which had not been changed for seven months. The insides of their thighs had been rubbed raw with seawater increasing the pain. Meals were regular in spite of the stormy weather. Breakfast, at 8 a.m., consisted of a pannikin of hot hoosh made from Bovril sledging rations, two biscuits and some lumps of sugar. Lunch, at 1 p.m., was more Bovril sledging rations, eaten raw, and a pannikin of hot milk. Tea, at 5 p.m., had the same menu. They had 6½ gallons of fuel for the oil lamp which complemented their supply of candles. On the fourth day out, a severe storm hit them. During the afternoon they spotted small bits of wreckage, the remains probably from some unfortunate vessel that had failed to weather the storm. The next day the storm was so fierce that they had to put out the sea anchor in order to keep her heading into the sea, take in the double-reefed mainsail and hoist the small jib instead. A thousand different times it appeared the small boat would capsize but she lived on. The southwesterly gale was born above the Antarctic continent and with it came temperatures near zero. The sea spray froze on the boat, coating everything with a heavy layer of ice. The boat became so heavy that the men were forced to use what tools they had to continually chip away the ice as it froze. By the next day the weight of the ice became a serious problem as she became more like a log than a boat. The situation called for immediate action. They first broke away the spare oars, which were encased in ice and frozen to the sides of the boat, and threw them overboard. Two of the fur sleeping bags went overboard...they weighed a good 40 pounds each since they were so wet and besides, they were frozen stiff as a board. About 11 a.m. the boat fell into a trough, losing the sea anchor in the process. They had no choice but to set sail and trust that it would hold. They beat the canvas until the bulk of the ice had cracked off and, fortunately, it worked as the little boat came up to the wind again. Frostbite became a serious problem as large blisters developed on exposed fingers and hands. By the dawn of the seventh day, the wind had subsided. Once again the course was laid for South Georgia...it had been six days since an observation had been made. The sun came out and the men hung their sleeping bags to the mast and spread their socks and other gear all over the deck. The ice began to melt away as porpoises came blowing alongside the boat. Cape Pigeons and an occasional Stormy Petrel swooped within a few feet of the tiny craft. Wild "snapped" the sun and determined they had gone over 380 miles and were nearly half-way to South Georgia. The eighth, ninth and tenth days of the voyage had little to report. On the eleventh day (May 5), a tremendous cross-sea developed and at midnight, while Shackleton was at the tiller, a line of clear sky was spotted between the south and southwest. Shackleton wrote, "I called to the other men that the sky was clearing, and then a moment later I realized that what I had seen was not a rift in the clouds but the white crest of an enormous wave. During twenty-six years' experience of the ocean in all its moods I had not encountered a wave so gigantic. It was a mighty upheaval of the ocean, a thing quite apart from the big white-capped seas that had been our tireless enemies for many days. I shouted 'For God's sake, hold on! It's got us.' Then came a moment of suspense that seemed drawn out into hours. White surged the foam of the breaking sea around us. We felt our boat lifted and flung forward like a cork in breaking surf. We were in a seething chaos of tortured water; but somehow the boat lived through it, half full of water, sagging to the dead weight and shuddering under the blow. We baled with

the energy of men fighting for life, flinging the water over the sides with every receptacle that came to our hands, and after ten minutes of uncertainty we felt the boat renew her life beneath us". The cooking stove was floating around in the bottom of the boat and portions of their last hoosh seemed to soak everything. It was 3 a.m. before the stove was finally functional again. The next day, May 6, Worsley determined that they were not more than a hundred miles from the northwest corner of South Georgia...two more days of favorable wind would put the island within sight. Thirst took possession of them. Their mouths were dry and tongues were swollen. On the morning of May 8, about 10 o'clock, a little bit of kelp was passed. An hour later two birds were seen sitting on a big mass of kelp and at 12:30 p.m., McCarthy caught a glimpse of the black cliffs of South Georgia, just fourteen days after departing Elephant Island.

 Landing at South Georgia

They looked for a landing place but the presence of blind rollers proved the existence of uncharted reefs along the coast. Here and there were rocks close to the surface and over them great waves broke spouting thirty to forty feet in the air. The rocky coast seemed to descend sheer to the sea. Night was drawing near and despite their craving thirst for water, there was no choice but to wait until the following morning to make shore. At 5 a.m. the wind shifted to the northwest and increased to one of the worst hurricanes ever experienced by Shackleton. The little boat was tossed around in the raging sea and when dawn appeared, no land was in sight. At 1 p.m. land was once again sighted but sheer cliffs with roaring breakers was all that awaited them. Evening approached and suddenly, when disaster seemed imminent, the wind shifted and the small boat was once again free to locate a safer landing place. The night wore on and as dawn arrived on the morning of May 10, there was practically no wind. They sighted an indentation which they thought was King Haakon Bay. Shackleton decided this would be their landing place as the bow was set towards the bay. Soon angry reefs were on both sides with great glaciers reaching the sea. About noon they sighted a smooth stretch of water that reached the head of the bay. A gap in the reef appeared and they made for the opening but suddenly the wind shifted and blew straight against them right out of the bay. That afternoon, after tacking five times into the strong wind, they made it through the small entrance into the wide mouth of the bay.

A small cove, guarded by a reef, made a break in the cliffs on the south side of the bay and they turned in that direction. The entrance was so small that they had to take in the oars but in the gathering darkness, the JAMES CAIRD ran on a swell and touched the beach. At 2 a.m. on the first night ashore, Shackleton woke everyone, shouting, "Look out boys, look out! Hold on! It's going to break on us!" It was a nightmare...Shackleton thought the black snow-crested cliff opposite them was a giant wave.

Unfortunately, the men were 17 miles from the Stromness whaling station: a journey over South Georgia's mountains and glaciers awaited them, an effort no one had ever accomplished. McNeish and Vincent were too weak to attempt the trek so Shackleton left them in the care of MaCarthy. On May 15, Shackleton, Crean and Worsley set out on their adventure. They climbed over icy slopes, snowfields and glaciers until reaching an altitude of 4500 feet. Looking back they could see a fog rolling up behind them. The ridge was studded with peaks and since they had no sleeping bags or tent with them, it was imperative they find a lower elevation before night set in. They managed to descend 900 feet in two or three minutes by sliding, like children, down a snowy slope. The country to the east was an ascending snow upland dividing the glaciers of the north coast from those of the south. Another meal was had at 6 p.m.; Crean was the cook as Shackleton and Worsley broke the wind from the cooker. Night was upon them and for an hour they plodded along in nearly complete darkness. About 8 p.m. a full moon appeared from behind jagged peaks, lighting their pathway. By midnight they were once again at an elevation of about 4000 feet. After 1 a.m., the Primus was started again and the men ate hot food which renewed their energy. By 1:30 a.m. they were on their feet again, still heading towards Stromness Bay. A dark object in the distance looked like Mutton Island, which lies off Huvik. Their high hopes were soon shattered as crevasses warned them that they were on another glacier...Shackleton knew there was no glacier in Stromness and realized it must be Fortuna Glacier. Back they turned and tramped up the glacier again. At 5 a.m. they were at the foot of the rocky spurs of the range. The men were exhausted as they sat down, under the lee of a rock, and wrapped

their arms around each other to keep themselves warm. Within a minute, Worsley and Crean were asleep but Shackleton realized that it would be "disastrous if we all slumbered together, for sleep under such conditions merges into death". After five minutes rest, Shackleton woke them up, told them they had slept half an hour, and gave the command to begin again. They were so stiff that for the first 300 yards they couldn't bend their knees. A jagged line of peaks loomed before them. This was the ridge that separated them from Stromness Bay. They found a gap in the ridge and went through it at 6 a.m. with anxious hearts and weary bodies. The twisted rock formations of Huvik Harbor appeared right ahead in the early light of dawn. While Worsley and Crean started the cooker, Shackleton climbed a ridge above them in order to get a better look at the land below them. At 6:30 a.m. Shackleton thought he heard the sound of a steam whistle calling the men from their beds at the whaling station. Shackleton descended to the others and told them to watch the chronometer for seven o'clock as this would be the time the whalers would be called to work; right to the minute the steam whistle sounded. Never had they heard such a sweeter sound.

 Stromness Bay Before Us

"Boys, this snow-slope seems to end in a precipice, but perhaps there is no precipice. If we don't go down we shall have to make a detour of at least five miles before we reach level going. What shall it be?" They both replied at once, "Try the slope". Abandoning the Primus lamp, they plodded downwards, reducing their altitude to 2000 feet above sea level. At this point they came upon a steep gradient of blue ice. It took two hours to cut and rope their way down another 500 feet. Eventually they got off the steep ice and a slide down a slippery slope, with the cooker going ahead, landed them on a plateau 1500 feet above the sea. A few minutes later they reached a sandy beach. By noon they were well up the slope on the other side of the bay, working east-southeast, with one more ridge between them and Huvik. Shackleton was leading the way over a plateau when suddenly he found himself up to his knees in water, quickly sinking deeper through the snow. They spread-eagled to distribute their weight and soon discovered they were on top of a small lake. After lying still for a few moments, the men got to their feet and delicately walked 200 yards to a rise that indicated the edge of the lake. At 1:30 p.m. they climbed round the final ridge and saw a little whaling boat entering the bay 2500 feet below. They hurried forward and spotted a sailing ship lying at a wharf. Tiny figures could be seen wandering about and then the whaling factory was sighted. The men paused, shook hands and congratulated each other on accomplishing their heroic journey.

The men cautiously started down the slope of the ice-clad mountainside. The only possible pathway seemed to be a stream flowing to the sea below. Down they went through the icy water, wet to their waist, shivering cold and tired. Then their ears heard the unwelcome sound of a waterfall. The stream ended in a waterfall that dropped 30 feet, with impassable ice-cliffs on both sides. They were too tired to look for another way down so they agreed the only way down was through the waterfall itself. They fastened their rope around a rock and slowly lowered Crean, who was the heaviest, into the waterfall. He completely disappeared and came out the bottom gasping for air. Shackleton went next and Worsley, the most nimble member of the party, went last. They had dropped the logbook, adze and cooker before going over the edge and once on solid ground, the items were retrieved, the only items brought out of the Antarctic, "which we had entered a year and a half before with well-found ship, full equipment, and high hopes. We had 'suffered, starved and triumphed, grovelled down yet grasped at glory, grown bigger in the bigness of the whole.' We had seen God in His splendours, heard the text that Nature renders. We had reached the naked soul of man". Shivering with cold, they set off for the whaling station, now just a mile and a half away. They tried to straighten themselves up a little bit before entering the station, but they truly were a sight to behold. Their beards were long, their hair was matted, their clothes, tattered and stained as they were, hadn't been washed in nearly a year. Down they hurried and as they approached the station, two small boys met them. Shackleton asked them where the manager's house was and they didn't answer...instead they turned and ran from them as fast as their legs would carry them. They came to the wharf where the man in charge was asked if Mr. Sorlle (the manager) was in the house.

"Yes," he said as he stared at us. "We would like to see him," said I. "Who are you?" he asked. "We have lost our ship and come over the island," I replied. "You have come over the island?" he said in a tone of entire disbelief.

The man went towards the manager's house and we followed him. I learned afterwards that he said to Mr. Sorlle: "There are three funny-looking men outside, who say they have come over the island and they know you. I have left them outside." A very necessary precaution from his point of view.

Mr. Sorlle came out to the door and said, "Well?" "Don't you know me?" I said."I know your voice," he replied doubtfully. "You're the mate of the Daisy.""My name is Shackleton," I said.Immediately he put out his hand and said, "Come in. Come in."

They washed, shaved and dined on 'coffee and cakes in the Norwegian fashion'. Worsley boarded a whaler headed for Haakon bay while Shackleton prepared plans for the rescue of the men on Elephant Island. The next day Worsley arrived to find the three men waiting under the upturned JAMES CAIRD. They all returned to Stromness Bay and the next morning Shackleton, Worsley and Crean left on the Norwegian whaler SOUTHERN SKY for Elephant Island. Sixty miles from the island the pack ice forced them to retreat to the Falkland Islands whereupon the Uruguayan Government loaned Shackleton the trawler INSTITUTO DE Pesca but once again the ice turned them away. They went to Punta Arenas where British and Chilean residents donated £1500 to Shackleton in order to charter the schooner EMMA. One hundred miles north of Elephant Island the auxiliary engine broke down and thus a fourth attempt would be necessary. The Chilean Government now loaned the steamer YELCHO, under the command of Captain Luis Pardo, to Shackleton.

As the steamer approached Elephant Island, the men on the island were approaching lunchtime. It was August 30 when Marston spotted the YELCHO in an opening in the mist. He yelled, "Ship O!" but the men thought he was announcing lunch. A few moments later the men inside the "hut" heard him running forward, shouting, "Wild, there's a ship! Hadn't we better light a flare?" As they scrambled for the door, those bringing up the rear tore down the canvas walls. Wild put a hole in their last tin of fuel, soaked clothes in it, walked to the end of the spit and set them afire.

The "Hut" at   Elephant IslandThe boat soon approached close enough for Shackleton, who was standing on the bow, to shout to Wild, "Are you all well?". Wild replied, "All safe, all well!" and the Boss replied, "Thank God!" Blackborrow, since he couldn't walk, was carried to a high rock and propped up in his sleeping bag so he could view the scene. Within an hour they were headed north to the world from which no news had been heard since October, 1914; they had survived on Elephant Island for 105 lonely days.

The Trans-Antarctic Expedition 1914-1917

SY AURORA

and The Ross Sea Party

The AURORA, under the command of Æneas Mackintosh, sailed from Hobart, Tasmania, for the Ross Sea on December 24, 1914. The ship had been refitted in Sydney and made ready for a possible two-year commitment in Antarctic waters. Shackletons' orders were quite simple, "Proceed to the Ross Sea, make a base at some convenient point in or near McMurdo Sound, land stores and equipment, and lay depots on the Great Ice Barrier, in the direction of the Beardmore Glacier for the use of the party that I expected to bring overland from the Weddell Sea coast". Shackleton thought it possible to make the attempt in the 1914-15 season so it was Mackintosh's duty, therefore, to lay out depots to the south immediately after their arrival at their base. Mackintosh was instructed to place depots of food and fuel at 80°S in 1914-15, marked by flags and cairns so they could be spotted by the sledging teams arriving from the Pole. If the crossing was not successful during this first season, depots further south would be placed during the 1915-16 season.

The AURORA

The AURORA had an uneventful voyage southwards. On Christmas Day she was anchored off Macquarie Island. Sir Douglas Mawson's wireless station could be seen as well as the hut constructed by Mawson during the Australian Antarctic Expedition of 1911-14. A meteorological staff still occupied the hut and later that day the meteorologist, Mr. Tulloch, came aboard the ship and had dinner with Mackintosh. Stores were left for the scientific team on Macquarie and on December 31, the AURORA sailed for McMurdo Sound. Three days later the first iceberg was spotted at 62°40'S, 169°58'E. The next day they entered the pack-ice and on January 7 Mount Sabine, in South Victoria Land, was sighted some 75 miles away. The ship was off Cape Crozier on January 9 when Stenhouse, Cope, Joyce, Ninnis, Mauger and Aitken went off in a boat to locate an area where a small hut could be built and provisioned for a proposed three-man party during the winter months. Emperor penguin eggs could be secured here to supplement their diet. Unfortunately, no appropriate area for the hut and stores could be located, not to mention the fact that there was no penguin rookery to be found. The ship proceeded into McMurdo Sound but was confronted and delayed for three days by heavy pack-ice. On January 16 she reached a point off Cape Evans where ten tons of coal and ninety-eight cases of oil were offloaded. The AURORA worked her way further south and by January 24 she was within nine miles of Hut Point. Unable to go further, the AURORA was anchored to the sea ice and Mackintosh immediately arranged sledging depots. First officer, Lieutenant J.R. Stenhouse, was left in command of the ship with instructions to select a base for winter quarters and land a party. Meanwhile, the others would strike off for their first objective, Hut Point, where the men would find Robert Scott's structure built for the DISCOVERY EXPEDITION in 1902.

An advance party of Joyce (leader), Jack and Gaze left the ship on January 24 with fully loaded sledges. Mackintosh, with Wild and Spencer-Smith, followed the next day and a third party, consisting of Cope (leader), Ninnis, Haywood, Stevens, Hooke and Richards left the ship on January 30. The first two parties used dogs while the third took a motor-tractor. The dogs were in pitifully poor condition which resulted in the loss of many of them. Captain Mackintosh and his party left the AURORA on the evening of January 25, 1915. They used one sledge, pulled by nine dogs, as they set off for Hut Point. They had hoped to reach Hut Point that night but, after sledging five miles, a snowstorm hit them so they camped right on the sea ice. It was 4 p.m., January 27, before they reached Hut Point. The sledge-meter had showed the total distance traveled was in excess of seventeen miles. They found a note in the hut, left by Joyce and the advance party who had been there on the 25th, which reported the loss of one dog, killed in a fight with the others. Mackintosh's party spent the night in the hut and the next morning Joyce and his party showed up; they had encountered bad ice and had returned to the hut to consult with Mackintosh on a different route to be followed. Mackintosh instructed Joyce to head for Black Island, at the head of McMurdo Sound beyond Hut Point. Mackintosh's party left Hut Point on January 28 with a sledge weighing 1200 pounds. The dogs had trouble, as the weather was warm, thus making only four miles during the day. Mackintosh wrote, "The surface was abominably soft. We harnessed ourselves on to the sledge and with the dogs made a start, but we had a struggle to get off. We had not gone very far when in deeper snow we stopped dead. Try as we would, no movement could be produced. Reluctantly we unloaded and began the tedious task of relaying. The work, in spite of the lighter load on the sledge, proved terrific for ourselves and for the dogs. We struggled for four hours, and then set camp to await the evening, when the sun would not be so fierce and

the surface might be better. I must say I feel somewhat despondent, as we are not getting on as well as I expected, nor do we find it as easy as one would gather from reading".

The two parties met again the next day as Joyce and his party ran into the very same problems. They reached the edge of the Barrier on January 30 and climbed up a slope to the Barrier surface, about 30 feet above the sea ice. On January 31, after 12 and a half hours of sledging, only two and a half miles had been made. The men had killed a seal at the edge of the sea ice and stored it for future consumption. One dog had to be left behind, with food, since he refused to pull. The following excerpts are from Mackintosh's diary:

Sunday, January 31.--Started off this afternoon at 3 p.m. Surface too dreadful for words. We sink into snow at times up to our knees, the dogs struggling out of it panting and making great efforts. I think the soft snow must be accounted for by a phenomenally fine summer without much wind. After proceeding about 1000 yds. I spotted some poles on our starboard side. We shaped course for these and found Captain Scott's Safety Camp. We unloaded a relay here and went back with empty sledge for the second relay. It took us four hours to do just this short distance. It is exasperating. After we had got the second load up we had lunch. Then we dug round the poles, while snow fell, and after getting down about three feet we came across, first, a bag of oats, lower down two cases of dog-biscuit--one with a complete week's ration, the other with seal-meat. A good find. About forty paces away we found a venesta-lid sticking out of the snow. Smith scraped round this with his ice-axe and presently discovered one of the motor-sledges Captain Scott used. Everything was just as it had been left, the petrol-tank partly filled and apparently undeteriorated...

February 1. We turned out at 7:30 p.m., and after a meal broke camp. We made a relay of two and a half miles...We covered seven and a half miles in order to bring the load two and a half miles.

February 2. We were awakened this afternoon, while in our bags, by hearing Joyce's dogs barking. They have done well and have caught us up...About 8 p.m., after our hoosh, we made a start, and reached Joyce's camp at 1 a.m...

The surface had been better that day and the party covered six miles without relaying. The next morning it took them two hours to cover the first one hundred and fifty yards. They finally were able to move into Joyces' tracks which allowed them to overtake Joyce on the morning of February 4. That night they covered another 10 miles. The next night another 11 miles was sledged. Joyce and Mackintosh passed each other regularly as Joyce would travel during the day while Mackintosh pulled at night. A blizzard confined the men to their tents for over twenty-four hours, commencing on February 10. On February 11, Mackintosh camped alongside Joyce. One of the dogs had died and several of the others were in poor condition so Mackintosh made up a team of the best dogs and instructed Joyce and Wild to accompany him while Smith, Jack and Gaze went back to Hut Point with the remaining dogs. A depot of fuel and oil was laid at this point, goodbye's were given, and the crews went off in opposite directions. Mackintosh's party built cairns of snow after each hour's traveling to serve as guides to the depot and as marks for the return journey. Another blizzard held the men up on February 13 with uncomfortable, cruel temperatures.

The party plodded forward and by the afternoon of February 20, they had reach 80°S. Mackintosh wrote, "As soon as breakfast was over, Joyce and Wild went off with a light sledge and the dogs to lay out the cairns and place flags to the eastward, building them at every mile. The outer cairn had a large flag and a note indicating the position of the depot. I remained behind to get angles and fix our position with the theodolite. The temperature was very low this morning, and handling the theodolite was not too warm a job for the fingers. My whiskers froze to the metal while I was taking a sight. After five hours the others arrived back. They had covered ten miles, five miles out and five miles back. During the afternoon we finished the cairn, which we have built to a height of eight feet. It is a solid square erection which ought to stand a good deal of weathering, and on top we have placed a bamboo pole with a flag, making the total height twenty-five feet. Building the cairn was a fine warming job, but the ice on our whiskers often took some ten minutes thawing out. To-morrow we hope to lay out the cairns westward, and then to shape our course for the Bluff". A blizzard kept the men in their sleeping bags on February 21 and it was not until the afternoon of the 23rd that Mackintosh and Joyce made an attempt to lay out the cairns to the west. Two dogs had died during the storm, leaving only seven to pull the sledge. On the morning of February 24th, the return march was

started. Mackintosh wrote, "We did get off from our camp but had only proceeded about four hundred yards when the fog came on so thick that we could scarcely see a yard ahead, so we had to pitch the tent again, and are now sitting inside hoping the weather will clear. We are going back with only ten days' provisions, so it means pushing on for all we are worth. These stoppages are truly annoying. The poor dogs are feeling hungry; they eat their harness or any straps that may be about. We can give them nothing beyond their allowance of three biscuits each as we are on bare rations ourselves; but I feel sure they require more than one pound a day. That is what they are getting now...After lunch we found it a little clearer, but a very bad light. We decided to push on. It is weird traveling in this light. There is no contrast or outline; the sky and the surface are one, and we cannot discern undulations, which we encounter with disastrous results. We picked up the first of our outward cairns. This was most fortunate. After passing a second cairn everything became blotted out, and so we were forced to camp, after covering 4 miles 703 yards. The dogs are feeling the pangs of hunger and devouring everything they see. They will eat anything except rope. If we had not wasted those three days we might have been able to give them a good feed at the Bluff depot, but now that is impossible. It is snowing hard".

Another blizzard held them up throughout the 25th and 26th. Mackintosh wrote, "Outside is a scene of chaos. The snow, whirling along with the wind, obliterates everything. The dogs are completely buried, and only a mound with a ski sticking up indicates where the sledge is...The sleeping bags are damp and sticky, so are our clothes...One of the dogs gave a bark and Joyce went out to investigate. He found that Major, feeling hungry, had dragged his way to Joyce's ski and eaten off the leather binding. Another dog has eaten all his harness, canvas, rope, leather, brass and rivets. I am afraid the dogs will not pull through; they all look thin and these blizzards do not improve matters...We have a week's provisions and one hundred and sixty miles to travel. It appears that we will have to get another week's provisions from the depot, but don't wish it. Will see what luck to-morrow". The next day, Mackintosh wrote that, "We are now reduced to one meal in the twenty-four hours. This going without food keeps us colder. It is a rotten, miserable time". The weather cleared on the 27th which allowed Mackintosh and Joyce to go back to the depot and retrieve additional stores. Wild remained behind to build another cairn and dry out the sleeping bags in the sun. The party resumed their homeward journey the next morning and, with a sail on the sledge and a nice southerly breeze, managed to cover nine and a half miles that day. That evening, for the first time since leaving the AURORA, the men saw the sun dip to the horizon, a reminder that the Antarctic summer would soon be over. The dogs continued to collapse from exhaustion and famine. On March 2 Mackintosh wrote, "After lunch we went off fairly well for half an hour. Then Nigger commenced to wobble about, his legs eventually giving under him. We took him out of his harness and let him travel along with us, but he has given us all he can, and now can only lie down. After Nigger, my friend Pompey collapsed. The drift, I think, accounts a good deal for this. Pompey has been splendid of late, pulling steadily and well. Then Scotty, the last dog but one, gave up. They are all lying down in our tracks. They have a painless death, for they curl up in the snow and fall into a sleep from which they will never awake. We are left with one dog, Pinkey. He has not been one of the pullers, but he is not despised". At one point, a strong gust of wind came up and blew the sledge over, tearing the sail off in the process. More time was lost as repairs were necessary. Camp was made and, as Mackintosh wrote, "If all was as beautiful as the scene we could consider ourselves in some paradise, but it is dark and cold in the tent and I shiver in a frozen sleeping-bag. The inside fur is a mass of ice, congealed from my breath. One creeps into the bag, toggles up with half-frozen fingers, and hears the crackling of the ice. Presently drops of thawing ice are falling on one's head. Then comes a fit of shivers. You rub yourself and turn over to warm the side of the bag which has been uppermost. A puddle of water forms under the body. After about two hours you may doze off, but I always wake with the feeling that I have not slept a wink". They made only three and a half miles on March 3. Sledging was becoming increasingly difficult so Mackintosh removed the outer runners and scraped the bottom. Left behind was all spare gear, including dog-harness, in order to reduce weight. Temperatures were reaching -28°F and on the 5th, Mackintosh wrote that, "We are struggling along at a mile an hour. It is a very hard pull, the surface being very sticky. Pinkey still accompanies us". The next day a wind came up which allowed them to once again use the sail. The men suffered from frostbitten hands as the ropes had to be constantly secured...that afternoon Pinkey collapsed and was left behind. More blizzards followed but on May 10th they reached the Bluff depot. Another blizzard followed so the journey could not resume until March 12. When they camped that night, Mackintosh noted that, "Our bags are getting into a bad state as it is some time now since we have had an opportunity of drying them. We use our bodies for drying socks and such-like clothing, which we place inside our jerseys and produce when required. Wild carries a regular wardrobe in this position, and it is amusing to see him searching round the back of his clothes for a pair of socks. Getting away in the mornings is our bitterest time. The putting on of the finneskoe is a nightmare, for they are always frozen stiff, and we have a great struggle to force our feet into them. The ice sennegras round one's fingers is another punishment that causes much pain. We are miserable until we are actually on the move, then

warmth returns with the work. Our conversation now is principally conjecture as to what can have happened to the other parties. We have various ideas".

Saturday, March 13 was another day spent in the bags due to another blizzard. Both Joyce and Wild suffered from frost-bitten toes while in their bags and had particular difficulty in getting the circulation restored. They could not resume their march until March 15. Mackintosh wrote, "The air temperature this morning was -35° Fahr...To cap everything, I developed a toothache, presumably as a result of frost-bitten cheek. I was in positive agony. Joyce, who had wakened up, suggested methylated spirit, so I damped some cotton-wool, then placed it in the tooth, with the result that I burnt the inside of my mouth. All this time my fingers, being exposed, were continually having to be brought back. After putting on the methylated spirit I went back to the bag, which, of course, was frozen stiff. I wriggled and moaned till morning brought relief by enabling me to turn out. Joyce and Wild both had a bad night, their feet giving them trouble...The skin has peeled off the inside of my mouth, exposing a raw sore, as the result of the methylated spirit. My tooth is better, though...". From here things went better. On March 18, during one of the best marches of the journey, Mackintosh wrote, "I look forward to seeing the ship. All of us bear marks of our tramp. Wild takes first place. His nose is a picture for Punch to be jealous of; his ears, too, are sore, and one big toe is a black sore. Joyce has a good nose and many minor sores. My jaw is swollen from the frost-bite I got on the cheek, and I also have a bit of a nose...Our beards and our moustaches are masses of ice. I will take care I am clean-shaven the next time I come out. The frozen moustache makes the lobes of the nose freeze more easily than they would if there was no ice alongside them...I ask myself why on earth one comes to these parts of the earth. Here we are, frost-bitten in the day, frozen at night. What a life!" The temperature that day, at 1 p.m., was -23°F. They made Corner Camp, where they had been on February 1, on the evening of March 19. The next day they only made 2 miles. On March 23, Mackintosh wrote, "No sooner had we camped last night than a blizzard with drift came on and has continued ever since. This morning finds us prisoners. The drift is lashing into the sides of the tent and everything outside is obscured". They made a start at 7 a.m. on the 24th after a breakfast of cocoa and biscuit-crumbs. "Our start was made under most bitter circumstances, all of us being attacked by frost-bites. It was an effort to bare hands for an instant...Wild is a mass of bites, and we are all in a bad way...We had been pulling about two hours when Joyce's smart eyes picked up a flag. We shoved on for all we were worth, and as we got closer, sure enough, the cases of provisions loomed up. Then what feeds we promised to give ourselves. It was not long before we were putting our gastronomic capabilities to the test. Pemmican was brought down from the depot, with oatmeal to thicken it, as well as sugar. While Wild was getting the Primus lighted he called out to us that he believed his ear had gone. This was the last piece of his face left whole--nose, cheeks, and neck all having bites. I went into the tent and had a look. The ear was a pale green...Then his fingers went, and to stop this and bring back the circulation he put them over the lighted Primus, a terrible thing to do. As a result he was in agony...Just before leaving, Joyce discovered a note left by Spencer-Smith and Richards. This told us that both the other parties had returned to the Hut and apparently all was well...". On March 25 the men picked up sledge tracks and, following these, found a route down to the sea-ice. A short time later the three men reached Hut Point. Mackintosh wrote, "We shouted. No sound. Shouted again, and presently a dark object appeared. This turned out to be Cope, who was by himself. The other members of the party had gone out to fetch the gear off their sledge, which they also had left...We heard then how the ship had called here on March 11 and picked up Spencer-Smith, Stevens, Richards, Ninnis, Hook, and Gaze, the present members here being Cope, Hayward and Jack". Mackintosh learned that Spencer-Smith, Jack and Gaze, who had turned back on February 10, had reached Hut Point without difficulty. The third party, led by Cope, had also been out on the Barrier but had not accomplished much. The party had tried to use the motor-tractor but had failed to get effective service from it; the car was now lying at Hut Point. Spencer-Smith's party and Cope's party had both returned to Hut Point before the end of February. The AURORA, after picking up the six men at Hut Point on March 11, returned to Cape Evans which was the site chosen by Stenhouse for the winter quarters. The six men now remaining at Hut Point were cut off from the winter quarters at Cape Evans by the open water of McMurdo Sound. They lived an uneventful life under primitive conditions at the hut. Wild and Joyce battled their frostbites...Joyce had both feet blistered, his knees were swollen, and his hands were blistered. They ran low of seal blubber in early April and on April 15 several seals were sighted and killed.

Meanwhile, up at Cape Evans preparations were made for routine observations. On March 23, Stenhouse landed a party consisting of Stevens (leader), Spencer-Smith, Gaze and Richards who promptly took up quarters in Scott's hut. They were instructed to kill seals for meat a blubber. The landing of equipment, food and fuel proceeded at a leisurely pace as it was assumed the ship would remain anchored to her moorings throughout the winter. Some coal was taken ashore in April but most of it was lost as the sea-ice went out. The bay frequently froze over with the ice subsequently blown away due to blizzards. As Stevens wrote, "On the 6th May the ice was in and people passed freely between the shore and the ship. At ll p.m. the wind

was south, backing to south-east, and blew at forty miles per hour. The ship was still in her place. At 3 a.m. on the 7th the wind had not increased to any extent, but the ice and ship had gone...Nothing has since been seen or heard of the ship, though a look-out was kept". The men did not abandon hope of the ship returning before the Sound froze firmly but Stevens immediately inventoried the stores and regulated food consumption such that it would last the ten men for not less than one hundred weeks. Unfortunately, no general provisions had been brought ashore...no clothing required for sledging had been landed either. But, Captain Scott's hut was equipped with some food and clothing and the men killed a number of seals for blubber and meat. On June 2, Mackintosh and his men from Hut Point showed up at the front door. A significant amount of risk was involved in the crossing but now all ten were at Cape Evans: Mackintosh, Spencer-Smith, Joyce, Wild, Cope, Stevens, Hayward, Gaze, Jack and Richards. The men, now wintered in, had little to do until September. During June the men washed and mended clothes, killed seals, made minor trips around the hut and discussed sledging plans for the coming summer. During July Mackintosh made several trips northwards on the sea-ice but always returned without getting far. Mackintosh and Stevens paid a visit to Cape Royds on August 13. The hut used by Shackleton's 1907-09 Expedition was soon discovered. Mackintosh wrote, "The outer door of the hut we found to be off. A little snow had drifted into the porch, but with a shovel, which we found outside, this was soon cleared away. We then entered, and in the centre of the hut found a pile of snow and ice, which had come through the open ventilator in the roof of the hut...Stevens prepared a meal while I cleared the ice and snow away from the middle of the hut. After our meal we commenced taking an inventory of the stores inside. Tobacco was our first thought. Of this we found one tin of Navy Cut and a box of cigars. Soap, too, which now ensures us a wash and clean clothes when we get back...Over the stove in a conspicuous place we found a notice left by Scott's party that parties using the hut should leave the dishes clean". They stayed at the Cape Royds hut over the next day and loaded up cases of meat, flour, dried vegetables and other sundries, setting off for Cape Evans on the morning of August 15. They arrived back at Cape Evans in only two hours and the rest of August was simply uneventful.

The first sledging party, consisting of Mackintosh, Richards and Spencer-Smith, left Cape Evans on September 1 with 600 pounds of stores on one sledge, and had an uneventful journey to Hut Point. They attempted to get the motor-tractor running and on the 3rd they returned to Cape Evans. The second trip to Hut Point was made by a party of nine, with three sledges. Two of the sledges were pulled by the men, loaded with 1278 pounds of stores, while the third, carrying the sleeping bags, was pulled by the dogs. Eight men made the third journey to Hut Point, taking 600 pounds of oil and 630 pounds of stores. From here, on September 14th, the party pulled loaded sledges to Safety Camp, on the edge of the Barrier; this would be the starting point for the march across the Barrier to the Minna Bluff depot. Another load was taken to Hut Point, and on to Safety Camp, on September 24. The last entry in Mackintosh's diary, left at Cape Evans, says "Everybody is up to their eyes in work. All gear is being overhauled, and personal clothing is having the last stitches. We have been improvising shoes to replace the finneskoe, of which we are badly short. Wild has made an excellent shoe out of an old horse rug he found here, and this is being copied by other men..Last night I had a bath, the second since being here...To-morrow (September 30) we start for Hut Point. Nine of us are going on the sledge party for laying depots; namely, Stevens, Spencer-Smith, Joyce, Wild, Cope, Hayward, Jack, Richards, and myself. Gaze, who is still suffering from bad feet, is remaining behind and will probably be relieved by Stevens after our first trip. With us we take three months' provisions to leave at Hut Point. I continue this journal in another book, which I keep with me". The nine men reached Hut Point on October 1. The depot-laying expedition began from Safety Camp on October 9: three sledges and three tents were taken out onto the Barrier by three teams, consisting of, 1)Mackintosh, Spencer-Smith and Wild; 2)Joyce, Cope and Richards; and 3)Jack, Hayward and Gaze. Mackintosh's account of the depot-laying journeys in the summer of 1915-16 are unfortunately not available..even though a diary was kept, the book was with him when he was lost on the sea-ice the following winter. The only narrative remaining is one compiled by Shackleton from notes kept by Joyce, Richards and other members of the parties. The dogs, untrained and in poor condition from the journey to McMurdo Sound in 1914, were nearly all dead by the beginning of the important sledging season of 1915-16. The men had to sledge almost continuously during a six-month period. They suffered from frostbite, scurvy, and snow-blindness. Nevertheless, had the Weddell Sea Party been able to make the crossing of the Antarctic continent as planned, the stores and fuel would have been waiting for them precisely where Shackleton expected to find them.

Four loads of stores were eventually deposited at Minna Bluff. The final load, brought by Joyce and his men, arrived at the Bluff on December 28. The Bluff depot was now stocked with between 2800 and 2900 pounds of provisions. Various depots were left over the following weeks. Cairns were built at short intervals as guides to the depots. Advancements were made quite rapidly and on the morning of January 18th, 82°S was reached. The depot here, like the one at 81°S, contained five days' provisions for twelve men. The final

depot was to be placed at the base of Mount Hope, at the foot of the Beardmore Glacier, in latitude 83° 30'S. The loads were relatively light now but a new trouble developed on January 19th. Spencer-Smith was suffering from swollen and painful legs and was unable to do much pulling. Joyce wrote on the 21st that Spencer-Smith was worse, and that Mackintosh was showing signs of exhaustion. The next morning he reported to be unable to continue. The Mount Hope depot was very important so Spencer-Smith, at his insistence, was left with a tent, one sledge and provisions with the promise from Mackintosh that he'd be picked up on their return in about a week. Fighting challenging weather and "the biggest ice pressure" Joyce had ever seen, the men reached the foot of the Beardmore Glacier on January 26 and found two of Captain Scotts' sledges, upright, buried in the snow. Joyce wrote, "Wild, Hayward, and myself then took the depot up the Glacier, a fortnight's provisions. We left it lashed to a broken sledge, and put up a large flag. I took two photographs of it". The party remained in camp until the 27th due to a strong blizzard. Joyce experienced painful snow-blindness as the return trip commenced, some 365 miles from home. They reached Spencer-Smith on the 29th and found him alive, but unable to walk. Joyce's diary contains a rather gloomy reference to the outlook, since he guessed that Mackintosh also would be unable to make the homeward march. "If they will only last to 80°S. we shall then have enough food to take them in, and then if the ship is in I guarantee they will live in comfort the remainder of their lives". "Still blizzarding", wrote Joyce on the 21st. "We are lying in pools of water made by our bodies through staying in the same place for such a long time. I don't know what we shall do if this does not ease. It has been blowing continuously without a lull. The food for to-day was one cup of pemmican amongst three of us, one biscuit each, and two cups of tea among the three". The next day things had not improved. Joyce wrote, "Hardly any food left except tea and sugar. Richards, Hayward and I, after a long talk, decided to get under way to-morrow in any case, or else we shall be sharing the fate of Captain Scott and his party. The other tent seems to be very quiet, but now and again we hear a burst of song from Wild, so they are in the land of the living. We gave the dogs the last of their food to-night, so we shall have to push, as a great deal depends on them". They got underway at 2:20 p.m. the next day. Mackintosh stayed on his feet as long as humanly possible, tied to the rear of the sledge. Suffering from scurvy, he marched for half an hour on the 23rd before breaking down. Spencer-Smith was sinking as well. Wild, who was in charge of the invalids, was doing quite well but Joyce, Richards and Hayward were all showing signs of scurvy. On February 24th, Joyce wrote, "The worst of camping is the poor dogs and our weak condition, which means we have to get out of our wet sleeping-bags and have another half cup of tea without working for it. This is the second day the dogs have been without food, and if we cannot soon pick up depot and save the dogs it will be almost impossible to drag our two invalids back the one hundred miles which we have to go". On Saturday, February 26, Richards sighted the Minna Bluff depot. Joyce wrote, "The dogs sighted it, which seemed to electrify them. They had new life and started to run, but we were so weak that we could not go more than 200 yds. and then spell. I think another day would have seen us off".

Mackintosh & Spencer-Smith Being dragged on the Sledge

Blizzard after blizzard confronted the men. On Thursday, March 9, Spencer-Smith called out that he was feeling queer. Wild spoke to him and at 5:45 Richards said, "I think he is gone". He had been dragged on the sledge for forty days, never complaining despite the intense pain. He was buried in his sleeping bag at the following position: Ereb. 184°--Obs. Hill 149°. A cross was made of bamboo and placed on a cairn at the gravesite. The men arrived at Safety Camp on Saturday, March 18, at precisely 4:10 p.m. They were back at Hut Point by 7 o'clock that evening, having traveled over 1561 miles in 160 days. Joyce wrote, "Before turning in Skipper shook us by the hand with great emotion, thanking us for saving his life". The five men now at Hut Point realized that some of the winter months must be spent there as they would have to wait for the sea to freeze between them and Cape Evans. They had no news of the ship and assumed she had not returned to the Sound since no message awaited them upon arrival back at Hut Point. Before the end of March, Mackintosh and Hayward, who suffered the most, were able to exercise. By the second week of April Mackintosh was free of pain, though the backs of his legs were still black. During April the sea froze in calm weather, but winds took the ice out again. During the first week of May the sea-ice formed rapidly. Richards wrote, "And now a most regrettable incident occurred.

On the morning of May 8, before breakfast, Captain Mackintosh asked Joyce what he thought of his going to Cape Evans with Hayward. Captain Mackintosh considered the ice quite safe, and the fine morning no

doubt tempted him to exchange the quarters at the hut for the greater comfort and better food at Cape Evans. He was strongly urged at the time not to take the risk, as it was pointed out that the ice, although firm, was very young, and that a blizzard was almost sure to take part of it out to sea." Despite changing weather for the worse, Mackintosh and Hayward struck out for Cape Evans at 1 p.m. By 3 p.m. a moderate blizzard was blowing which later turned into a full-blown event. On May 10, the first day possible, the three remaining men at the hut walked over new ice to the north to try and find some trace of Mackintosh and Hayward. The footmarks were clearly seen and the track they followed led in the direction of Cape Evans. Two miles out from the hut the trail ended abruptly, and in the dim light was a wide stretch of water, very lightly covered with ice, stretching as far as the eye could see. At this moment it was evident the ice on which the men were traveling had broken off and drifted out to sea.

The weather during June was persistently bad. No move had been possible on May 16, the sea-ice going out, so Joyce decided to wait until the next full moon. The weather was so poor in June that they had to wait until July's full moon to make the journey to Cape Evans. The party started for Cape Evans on July 15 and arrived later that same day. The men settled in to wait for the relief and, when opportunity allowed, Joyce led search parties to look for the bodies or any trace of Mackintosh and Hayward. Joyce subsequently handed the following report to Shackleton:

"I beg to report that the following steps were taken to try and discover the bodies of Captain Mackintosh and Mr. Hayward. After our party's return to the hut at Cape Evans, July 15, 1916, it was learned that Captain Mackintosh and Mr. Hayward had not arrived; and, being aware of the conditions under which they were last seen, all the members of the wintering party were absolutely convinced that these two men were totally lost and dead--that they could not have lived for more than a few hours at the outside in the blizzard that they had encountered, they being entirely unprovided with equipment of any sort. There was the barest chance that after the return of the sun some trace of their bodies might be found, so during the spring--that is, August and September 1916, and in the summer, December and January 1916-17--the following searches were carried out:

(1) Wild and I thoroughly searched Inaccessible Island at the end of August, 1916.(2) Various parties in September searched along the shore to the vicinity of Turk's Head.(3) In company with Messrs. Wild and Gaze I started from Hut Point, December 31, 1916, at 8 a.m., and a course was steered inshore as close as possible to the cliffs in order to search for any possible means of ascent. At a distance of half a mile from Hut Point we passed a snow slope which I had already ascended in June, 1916; three and a half miles farther on was another snow-slope which ended in Blue Ice Glacier slope, which we found impossible to climb, snow-slope being formed by heavy winter snowfall. These were the only two places accessible. Distance on this day, 10 miles 1710 yds. covered. On January 1 search was continued round the south side of Glacier Tongue from the base towards the seaward end. There was much heavy pressure; it was impossible to reach the summit owing to the wide crack. Distance covered 4 miles 100 yds. On January 2 thick weather caused party to lay up. On 3rd, glacier was further examined, and several slopes formed by snow led to top of glacier, but crevasses between slope and the Tongue prevented crossing. The party then proceeded round the Tongue to Tent Island, which was also searched, a complete tour of the island being made. It was decided to make for Cape Evans, as thick weather was approaching. We arrived at 8 p.m. Distance 8 miles 490 yds.

I remain, etc,

Ernest E. Joyce."

As for theAURORA, following Mackintosh's departure on January 25, 1915, Stenhouse kept the ship off Tent Island. The ice-anchors would not hold, owing to the continual breaking away of the pack. During the next month, the AURORA occupied various positions around Cape Evans. On March 11 he proceeded to Hut Point where he dropped anchor in Discovery Bay, landing provisions for twelve men and embarking

Spencer-Smith, Stevens, Hooke, Richards, Ninnis and Gaze, returning to Cape Evans that evening. Then, on May 6, 1915, the blizzard hit. From the log of the AURORA, "9:45 p.m.--The ice parted from the shore; all moorings parted. Most fascinating to listen to waves and chain breaking. In the thick haze I saw the ice astern breaking up and the shore receding. I called all hands and clapped relieving tackles on to the cables on the fore part of the windlass. The bos'n had rushed along with his hurricane lamp, and shouted, 'She's away wi' it!' He is a good fellow and very conscientious. I ordered steam on main engines, and the engine-room staff, with Hooke and Ninnis, turned to. Grady, fireman, was laid up with broken rib. As the ship, in the solid floe, set to the north-west, the cables rattled and tore at the hawse-pipes; luckily the anchors, lying as they were on a strip-sloping bottom, came away easily, without damage to windlass or hawse-pipes. Slowly as we disappeared into the Sound, the light in the hut died away". The ship drifted helplessly around the Sound throughout May 7. On the morning of May 8 the weather cleared a little as Cape bird was spotted in the distance. On May 9th, Stenhouse wrote, "Cape Bird is the only land visible, bearing north-east true about eight miles distant. So this is the end of our attempt to winter in McMurdo Sound...It is five weeks to the middle of winter. There is no sun, the light is little and uncertain, and we may expect many blizzards. We have no immediate water-supply, as only a small quantity of fresh ice is aboard when we broke drift. The AURORA is fast in the pack and drifting God knows where. Well, there are prospects of a most interesting winter drift. We are all in good health, except Grady, whose rib is mending rapidly; we have good spirits and we will get through. But what of the poor beggars at Cape Evans, and the Southern Party? It is a dismal prospect for them. There are sufficient provisions at Cape Evans, Hut Point, and, I suppose, Cape Royds, but we have the remaining Burberrys, clothing, etc., for next year's sledging still on board. I see little prospect of getting back to Cape Evans or anywhere in the Sound. We are short of coal and held firmly in the ice. I hope she drifts quickly to the north-east. Then we can endeavour to push through the pack and make for New Zealand, coal and return to the Barrier eastward of Cape Crozier. This could be done, I think, in the early spring, September. We must get back to aid the depot-laying next season". The record of the early months of the AURORA'A drift in the Ross Sea is uneventful. The supply of fresh water remained a problem as fresh fallen snow was their only source. Hooke and Ninnis worked hard at getting the wireless station going in hope of getting in touch with Macquarie Island, and possibly sending news of the ship to Cape Evans. They got the wireless going but, despite many attempts, their efforts were unsuccessful. The AURORA was quite helpless in the grip of the ice. From the ship's log on May 21, "The grating and grinding noise makes one feel the unimportance of man in circumstances like ours. Hope all is well at Cape Evans and that the other parties have returned safely. Wish we could relieve their anxiety". From the log on May 26, "If the ship is nipped in the ice, the ship's company (eighteen hands) will take to four sledges with one month's rations and make for nearest land. Six men and one sledge will endeavour to make Cape Evans via the Western land, Butler Point, Hut Point, etc. The remaining twelve will come along with all possible speed, but no forced marches, killing and depoting penguins and seals for emergency retreats". On June 8, "Made our latitude 75° 59'S. by altitude of Sirius. This is a very monotonous life, but all hands appear to be happy and contented. The temperature is -20°Fahr." The ship continued to drift throughout June and, from the logbook entry on July 22, "Ship in bad position in newly frozen lane, with bow and stern jammed against heavy floes; heavy strain with much creaking and groaning. 8 a.m.--Called all hands to stations for sledges, and made final preparations for abandoning ship...Am afraid the ship's back will be broken if the pressure continues, but cannot relieve her". The next day the "Pressure continued intermittently throughout the day and night, with occasional very heavy squeezes to the ship which made timbers crack and groan. The ship's stern is now in a more or less soft bed, formed of recently frozen ice of about one foot in thickness. I thank God that we have been spared through this fearful nightmare". By August 10, the ship's position was 70° 42' S. latitude, forty-five miles north-east of Cape Adare. On August 17 Hooke heard Macquarie Island on the wireless set sending weather reports to Hobart. Once again, on August 25, Hooke heard Macquarie and the Bluff (New Zealand) sending weather reports. On September 5 the wireless mast came down in a raging blizzard. On September 22 they had drifted to latitude 69°12'S, longitude 165° 00'E, ninety miles south of Sturge Island in the Balleny Group. During the month of October the AURORA drifted uneventfully. On November 17 Stenhouse made a sounding, at 66°S, 154°E, and found bottom at 194 fathoms. From the log entry of December 17, "No appreciable change in our surroundings. Every day past now reduces our chance of getting out in time to go north for rudder, anchors, and coal. If we break out before January 15 we might get north to New Zealand and down to Cape Evans again in time to pick up the parties. After that date we can only attempt to go south in our crippled state, and short of fuel...Shackleton may be past the Pole now. I wish our wireless calls had got through". The middle of January passed and the AURORA lay still in the ice. The latitude on January 24 was 65° 39'½S. The break-up of the floe came on February 12. Without steam and rudder, the foresail and foretopmast staysail were set the next day and the ship slowly moved northward. At 2 p.m., on March 14, the AURORA cleared the last belt of pack ice in latitude 62° 27.5'S., longitude 157° 32'E. On March 23rd communications was established with Bluff Station, New Zealand, and the next day with Wellington and Hobart. In the early morning of April 2, the AURORA picked up the tug PLUCKY, was taken in tow, and arrived in Port Chalmers the following morning.

Shackleton reached New Zealand at the beginning of December, 1916. The AURORA had been repaired and refitted at Port Chalmers and was now under the command of John K. Davis, who was a member of Shackleton's 1907-09 Expedition, and who subsequently commanded Dr. Mawson's ship in the Australian Antarctic Expedition. The Australian Government agreed to hand the AURORA over to Shackleton, even free and clear of debt upon her return to New Zealand after picking up the Ross Sea Party. Due to this generosity, Captain Davis commanded the ship down to McMurdo Sound while Shackleton "signed on" at a salary of 1s. a month. They sailed from Port Chalmers on December 20, 1916, for McMurdo Sound. The AURORA encountered her first ice a week later and entered the open water of the Ross Sea on January 7, 1917. Captain Davis brought the ship alongside the ice edge off Cape Royds on the morning of January 10. Shackleton went ashore with a party to look for any records possibly left in the hut. A letter was found stating that the Ross Sea Party was housed at Cape Evans. Shackleton was on his way back to the ship when six men, with dogs and a sledge, appeared in the direction of Cape Evans. At 1 p.m. this party arrived on board and Shackleton learned that of the ten members left behind when the AURORA broke away on May 6, 1915, only seven had survived. A final search was made for the bodies of Mackintosh and Hayward and, of course, they were not found. After the exhaustive searching, Captain Davis took the ship northward on January 17, 1917. The AURORA reached the main pack of ice on January 22 and crossed the Antarctic Circle on January 31. On February 4 Davis sent a formal report to the New Zealand Government by wireless, and on February 9 the AURORA berthed at Wellington.

As some of you know, little is known of the relief trip, commanded by Captain Davis, to McMurdo Sound at the end of 1916. The crew of the relief effort was comprised entirely of volunteer help. I have been very fortunate to receive a complete transcription of the diary kept by crew member Alasdair MacKinnon, A.B. during the Antarctic Relief Expedition journey of the SY AURORA from Port Chalmers to McMurdo Sound and return. The complete transcription, in the author's own words, is presented here in the public domain for the very first time.

Shackleton Returns to EuropeAs Shackleton returned to England, in May of 1917, the war continued to rage on in Europe. At 42 years of age, Shackleton was one year beyond conscription age. Even though authorities were lowering acceptance standards, joining the Army meant a medical exam; under no circumstances would he allow Army doctors to listen to his heart. Meanwhile, more than 30 members of the Trans-Antarctic Expedition, from both the Weddell Sea and Ross Sea branches, were fighting with the forces. McCarthy, who had survived the open-boat journey, had already been killed at sea. Possibly fearing rejection by the medical doctors, his attention turned elsewhere. By August 1917, Shackleton was bombarding the War Office with offers to go to France to serve on front-line transport. He tried the Foreign Office for a mission to Italy. But all attempts resulted in failure. He was drinking a little too much and his appearance was of a man aged well beyond his years. Shackleton was introduced to Sir Edward Carson, an Anglo-Irishman who had just become Minister without Portfolio in Lloyd George's War Cabinet. Carson, dissatisfied with the conduct of the war in general and propaganda in particular, dispatched Shackleton to South America where propaganda was notably inept. Shackleton sailed for Buenos Aires, via New York, on October 17, 1917. German U-boats were sinking 300,000 tons of British shipping every month but even they couldn't stop Shackleton from his new mission. Immediately upon arrival in Buenos Aires, Shackleton dove into his work. "Dispatch no more propaganda literature to Argentine", Shackleton wrote back to London. He had found twenty tons of outdated printed matter collecting dust in warehouses around the city. Shackleton decided to aim his efforts at persuading the governments of Argentina and Chile to forsake neutrality and enter the war on the side of the Allies. It was all to little effect. In January 1918, Shackleton lost his patron in London when Carson resigned over Home Rule. Shackleton left Buenos Aires in the middle of March to return to London, via Santiago, Panama and the United States. When he arrived in London at the end of April, he was given the cold shoulder. There simply was no place in the official hierarchy for an amateur diplomat.

Shackleton now became involved in an undercover enterprise. A company, the Northern Exploration Company, was preparing an expedition to Spitsbergen. Shackleton was asked to be the leader. Ostensibly, the company was going to mine mineral claims owned since 1910 by the company. Since 1910 the Germans had a meteorological station at Ebeltofthaven in West Spitsbergen, which was only withdrawn at the start of the war. Spitsbergen was a delicate issue as it was administered by Norway, a neutral country. With the backing of the British Government, the Northern Exploration Company could establish a British presence on the islands. To prove it's commitment, the government provided the expedition with an armed merchant ship, the ELLA. Frank Wild, now commissioned as a temporary lieutenant in northern Russia, was selected by Shackleton as his assistant. By the middle of August, Shackleton was in northern Norway,

at Tromsø, on his way to Spitsbergen; it was the first time he had crossed the Arctic Circle. It was in Tromsø that Shackleton suddenly became ill. He "changed colour very badly", as McIlroy put it. He suspected a heart attack. Shackleton refused to undress so McIlroy could listen to his heart. This was the first hint that Shackleton might be suffering from heart disease. Shackleton had to turn back, arriving in London in early September. Meanwhile, the leadership of the expedition was placed under Frank Wild.

The northern Russia campaign, said General Ironside, "was a side show of the Great War". Soldiers could hardly be spared from the front lines so troops were scraped from the bottom of the barrel to be sent to Russia. At this point, no one was going to worry about the condition of Shackleton's heart. Early in October Shackleton sailed for Murmansk. As Shackleton wrote, it was a "job after my own heart...winter sledging with a fight at the end". As he crossed the Barents Sea, he wrote to Janet Stancomb-Wills, "All is sheer beauty and keen delight. The very first...snow-squalls bring home to us the memories of our old South Lands. There is a freshness in the air, a briskness in the breeze that renews one's youth". "This day 3 years (ago) the 'Endurance' was crushed in the ice," Shackleton wrote to his younger son Edward, on October 26, "and we all were...sleeping on, rather moving about on, the moving ice with no home to go to. I have been to many places since then, now it is the other end of the world". Shackleton had just landed at Murmansk. A fortnight later, on November 11, the Armistice was signed. The war with Germany was over. However, war in northern Russia was not yet at an end; the Allied forces were now fighting the Bolsheviks instead. The north Russia force had attracted various polar explorers: Macklin, Worsley and Hussey from the ENDURANCE EXPEDITION; Stenhouse, from the AURORA branch of the Trans-Antarctic Expedition; Victor Campbell, the leader of Scott's Northern Party; Dr. Edward Atkinson, from the Scott camp and Dr. Eric Marshall from the NIMROD EXPEDITION. Shackleton's official job description was "Staff officer in charge of Arctic equipment". In all actuality, he was a glorified storekeeper. He had done most of his work in London and the outfits he now provided were doubtful; his own expeditions had been struggles against poorly designed equipment and clothing. The American troops in the region discarded the Shackleton clothing and boots and reverted to their own. Shackleton was now kept at headquarters in Murmansk with little to do. Shackleton wrote to Emily, "I have not been too fit lately. I am tired darling a bit and just want a little rest away from the world and you". The strain of a divided self was showing itself in Shackleton. "I am strictly on the water wagon now", he wrote to Emily at the end of January, 1919. He got thoroughly drunk on Christmas Day and, in his own words, "after a thought I have cut it right out it does me no good and I can tell my imagination is vivid enough without alcohol it makes me extravagant in ideas and I lose balance...I did not upset my superiors everyone was awash only it seems to take different people different ways. If I had not some strength of will I would make a first class drunkard". Shackletons' affairs were in a poor state; money was in short supply. Emily was fending for herself while Cecily was at Roedean and Ray, the eldest boy, was at Harrow. Shackleton hoped to cover the school fees from selling shares of his stock in the Northern Exploration Company, but the transaction never happened. By the end of March, 1919, Shackleton was back in London and demobilized after five months in the field. He was regarded well enough by The Times that an interview was requested. In that interview, Shackleton stated that nearly half a million people "threw in their lot with us...against the Bolshevist menace. It is thus not merely a question of saving our own troops, but a moral obligation to civilization...No domestic or political consideration should be allowed to interfere with steps being taken immediately to prevent anything in the nature of a reverse to our arms in these regions...In Murmansk, as elsewhere, the peasant is not a Bolshevist...but without armed support he is helpless...do not let us be too late...the British people do not yet realize what Bolshevism means...it is...becoming far worse than German militarism".

SHACKLETON-ROWETT EXPEDITION 1921-22

The Voyage of the QUEST  Shackleton was now reduced to lecturing on the ENDURANCE EXPEDITION. From December 1919 until May 1920 he appeared two times a day at the Philharmonic Hall in Great Portland Street. It was extremely boring to him and, besides, little money was raised as he often lectured to half-empty houses. The legend of Scott and his heroic but tragic march to the Pole was more the spirit of the times. At the Hall, Shackleton gave live commentary on Frank Hurley's silent film of the expedition. Images twice each day were presented on the screen, Shackleton having to live again and again through the death of all his dreams. Shackleton was repelled by the thought of working on the book of the expedition but, at the end of 1919, it appeared as South. The text was originally dictated to Saunders in New Zealand and Australia in early 1917. Shackleton had not touched the work and lacked the money to pay Saunders. The chronometers brought back by the Ross Sea Party were sold and the proceeds given to Saunders. Leonard Hussey did

the final editing, without payment. The critics, in general, praised South. Apsley Cherry-Garrard, who had been with Scott and was now promoting his own work, The Worst Journey in the World, praised the work. In his review of South Cherry-Garrard wrote of a comparison between Shackleton and Scott (two losers, in his opinion, with Amundsen the clear winner), "Do not let it be said that Shackleton has failed...No man fails who sets an example of high courage, of unbroken resolution, of unshrinking endurance. Explorers run each other down like the deuce. As I read with a critical eye Shackleton's account of the loss of the ENDURANCE I get the feeling that he...is a good man to get you out of a tight place. There is an impression, of the right thing being done without fuss or panic. I know why it is that every man who has served under Shackleton swears by him. I believe Shackleton has never lost a man: he must have had some doubts as to whether he would save one then. But he did, he saved them every one. Nothing is harder to a leader than to wait. The unknown is always terrible, and it is so much easier to go right ahead and get it over one way or the other than to sit and think about it. But Shackleton waited...and waited, it seems quite philosophically...Through it all one seems to see Shackleton sticking out his jaw and saying to himself that he is not going to be beaten by any conditions which were ever created. Shackleton had always given an impression of great grip--I should watch with joy the education of a shirker who served under the Boss. A picture haunts my mind--of three boats, crammed with frost-bitten, wet, and dreadfully thirsty men who have had no proper sleep for many days and nights. Some of them are comatose, some of them are on the threshold of delirium, or worse. Darkness is coming on, the sea is heavy, it is decided to lie off the cliffs and glaciers of Elephant Island and try and find a landing with the light...Many would have tried to get a little rest in preparation for the coming struggle. But Shackleton is afraid the boat made fast to his own may break adrift...All night long he sits with his hand on the painter, which grows heavier and heavier with ice as the unseen seas surge by, and as the rope tightens and droops under his hand his thoughts are busy with future plans". South sold well but Shackleton earned nothing from it. None of the money borrowed for the ENDURANCE EXPEDITION had been repaid and most of his benefactors had written off their loans. One exception was Sir Robert Lucas-Tooths' heirs; his executors required Shackleton to repay the loan and since his only asset was the book rights, in settlement he assigned all rights to them.

Shackleton was drinking heavily again. He was also smoking and eating too much. He was putting on weight and was constantly hit with colds and fevers, and what he called "indigestion", which meant severe pains across his shoulder blades. As for money, he still had none. In the spring of 1920 he began expressing a desire to see the polar regions just one more time. In August 1920, taking Emily's advice, Shackleton wrote to Teddy Evans, now Captain E.R.G.R. Evans, DSO. Shackleton wrote, "I know you have always been a good friend to me; that there is not a spark of jealousy or backbiting about you, that both publicly and privately you have always boosted my work and myself, and stood by me so that I count you a real friend. This is no balderdash or gush on my part". Since taking part in Scott's second expedition, Evans had bitterly disliked Scott. He had befriended Shackleton, and in a rebuttal of Scott's constant belittling of Shackletons' achievements he wrote, "Those of Captain Scott's followers who made...the ascent of the Beardmore Glacier, were amazed at Shackleton's fine performance...His descriptions were so easy and so careful that every landmark was recognised...We easily saw from the copies of his diary, which we carried along, where we might look for coal and other interesting geological specimens...on the plateau we met with just the conditions he had described...we used his splendid charts, and generally benefited by his praiseworthy pioneer work. Indeed, Shackleton and his companions set up a standard that was extremely difficult to live up to, and impossible to better".

"Now", Shackleton wrote, "my eyes are turned from the South to the North, and I want to lead one more Expedition. This will be the last...to the North Pole...Amundsen, I know from the Siberian side is planning to reach the North Pole. Why should I not get there before him?" Financing was once again an issue. Shackleton visited Canada and obtained the cooperation and financial backing from several prominent Canadians along with a promise of aid from the Canadian government. Shackleton now proceeded to gather a core group of experienced men and a hundred sledge dogs. While busy in preparing for the expedition, the Canadian government suddenly withdrew their support. At this critical point, an old school friend, John Quiller Rowett, came to the rescue. Rowett was an independently wealthy man, a man of many interests in scientific affairs. He was particularly instrumental in the founding of the Rowett Institute for Agricultural Research in Aberdeen. Rowett agreed at first to only finance part of the expedition but in the end agreed to pay for almost everything himself. Shackleton, once more, promised repayment out of future lectures, films and a book. But it was now too late for the Arctic that year so the Northern Expedition was canceled. Shackleton could not bare to wait any longer so he swung his attention from the north to the south. He would use the Antarctic summer to go south instead and, fortunately, Rowett generously agreed. Since little time was left, the dogs were canceled as not being needed and the program turned to concentrate on observation and scientific data rather than the making of a prolonged land journey.

The route was to be St. Peter and St. Paul's Rocks on the Equator, South Trinidad Island, Tristan da Cunha and the nearby islands of Inaccessible, Nightingale and Middle Island, Gough Island and then on to Cape Town which was to be the home base for operations in the ice. From here, the route would lead eastward to Marion Island, Crozet Island, Heard Island and then through the ice generally westwards to emerge at South Georgia.. From here, they would head back to Cape Town to resupply and refit the ship for the return journey via New Zealand, Raratonga, Tuanaki Island, Dougherty Island, the Birdwood Bank and home via the Atlantic. The goal was to circumnavigate the Antarctic continent, looking for "lost" or uncertain sub-Antarctic islands. He wanted to look for Captain Kidd's treasure on South Trinidad in the Atlantic and for a certain pearl lagoon in the South Seas. Also, he wanted to determine, "once and for all, the history and methods of the Pacific natives in their navigation across the Pacific spaces hundreds of years before Columbus crossed the Atlantic". The vessel in which they sailed was in pitiful shape and uncomfortable. Shackleton purchased her in Norway at the beginning of the year. She was a wooden sealer of 125 tons originally called the FOCA I. At Emily's request, she was renamed the QUEST. A baby "Airo" seaplane, the first plane to be used in polar exploration, was carried aboard.

The QUEST was refitted at Hays Wharf and on September 17, 1921, from St. Katharine's Dock, under Tower Bridge, Shackleton finally sailed. The QUEST had been intended for the Arctic expedition and was not suited for a long, trans-oceanic journey. She lumbered heavily in the trade winds, her engines too weak. Out at sea her boiler was found to be cracked. She needed repairs at every port of call. Against all this, Shackleton seemed to fight as he had always fought. Shackleton wrote to Janet Stancomb-Wills from Rio de Janeiro, "The years are mounting up. I am mad to get away. If I knew you less well I would not write like this but I want to open up...we...go into the ice into the life that is mine and I do pray that we will make good, it will be my last time I want to write your good name high on the map and however erratic I may seem always remember this, that I go to work secure in the trust of a few who know me and you my friend not least among them". The expedition seemed to have a beginning but, conversely, no end. The expedition geologist, Vibert Douglas, "hoped to find some mineral deposit that would get him out of his financial straits". The cameraman, an Australian named George (later Sir Hubert) Wilkins, believed this voyage was "to be a long, but not entirely selfish joy ride...a last expedition (Shackleton) was determined to have". Dr. Macklin wrote, "There is something different in him this trip as compared with the last which I do not understand". It was late December and they were being tossed about in the South Atlantic on their way to South Georgia. On board QUEST, Shackleton was constantly ill. His broad face was pale and pinched. At Rio de Janeiro, Shackleton had a massive heart attack but, as usual, refused to be examined. Macklin knew he was suffering from heart disease. All the physical problems which Shackleton had tried so hard to hide were now falling into a pattern. It went back at least three years to the suspected heart attack during the Spitsbergen expedition; at the time Macklin simply thought it angina. Shackleton was noticeably drinking more. He drank champagne in the morning, possibly to ease the pain. Against Macklins' orders, Shackleton insisted on staying on the bridge four nights in a row during a storm. More than anything else, Shackleton's mental changes troubled Macklin. He had no plans, and the only certainty was that South Georgia was to be their first port of call after leaving Rio. A great deal of the time was spent listening to Hussey strumming his banjo, the same banjo he had on Elephant Island. "The Boss", Macklin wrote on December 31, 1921, "says...quite frankly that he does not know what he will do after S. Georgia. I do not understand his enigmatical attitude". Another of the men on board, James Dell, was suddenly confided in by Shackleton. Dell, his old messdeck friend from DISCOVERY, held similar views of Scott. After all the years, Shackleton still burned with resentment at the way Scott had made him publicly give up rights to McMurdo Sound, and

thus forced him to break his promise when he sailed there on the NIMROD after all. That was the albatross around his neck.

Finally, on January 4, 1922, the QUEST came within view of South Georgia. "Like a pair of excitable kids", said Worsley, he and Shackleton "were rushing around showing everyone where we first came over the mountains on our 1916 tramp across S.G. from King Haakon (Bay) to Stromness Bay after our boat journey from Elephant Id. Finally the 'Boss' called me when I was on the bridge to come & show some of the others a point he wasn't quite sure of, but I couldn't leave here at the time & came down later, but the dear old 'Boss' was quite prepared for me to let the ship wander along on her own". The Quest anchored outside the whaling station of Grytviken; it had been eight years since Shackleton had sailed up the same fjord in ENDURANCE on his way to the Weddell Sea. Surprisingly, many of the same old faces were there. Fridthjof Jacobsen was still station manager. He came out in a boat and took Shackleton ashore. Macklin was not surprised when in the early hours he was called to Shackleton, and found him in the midst of another heart attack. Macklin, as many times before, told him he would have to change his style of life. Macklin said that Shackleton replied, "You're always wanting me to give up things, what is it I ought to give up?" A few minutes later, in the wee hours of January 5, 1922, Shackleton was dead.

Shackleton's body was to be sent back to England for burial. With it went Hussey, who had no heart for the expedition now that his leader was dead. When Emily heard what had happened, she decided that her husband should be buried on South Georgia. His spirit had no place in England...if he had a home on earth, it must be among the mystic crags and glaciers of the island in the Southern Ocean which had meant so much to him. So from Montevideo, Hussey turned around and brought the body back to South Georgia. There, on March 5, he was laid to rest in the Norwegian cemetery, along with the whalers amongst whom he had felt at home.

Built by His Shipmates, Shackleton's Memorial on South Georgia Island at King Edward Point

The Trans-Antarctic Expedition 1914-1917The Diary of Alasdair MacKinnon, A.B.

Aboard SY AURORA

Presented here is a transcription of the diary kept by Alasdair MacKinnon, A.B., during the Antarctic Relief Expedition of the SY AURORA to McMurdo Sound. The AURORA sailed from Port Chalmers on December 20, 1916 and returned to Wellington, arriving on February 9, 1917. The author's spelling has not been corrected and asterisks have been used to refer the reader to Notes at the end of the transcription. A special "thank you" goes to Cameron MacRae, a family member of MacKinnon, who was kind enough to transcribe and grant permission to release the entire diary,

for the first time, to the public via this website.

S.Y. Aurora Antarctic Relief Expt.

1916-17

Left Port Chalmers warf at 7.40 a.m. on Dec. 20th, anchored at 7.35 tug along side 9.20 Sir Earnest* on board sailed at 9.30 a.m. for Ross Sea.   cleared the Heads a 10:40. Course S 35°E. Calm. Thermomiter 60° sea moderate 1pm Set Watches watches worked till 9 pm

Dec 21 day break. 3 am clear, light swell 8 am start setting sails. 9.30 am We are stearing full and by watch securing gear round decks. 3 pm upper top sail in ship rolling heavy Ther. 54°

Dec 22 daybreak 2.30 am heavy swell course S 40°E. Ther 50° 43 pm bending speniker. 6 pm lower top sail and fore taken in. Cloudy sea moderating. Course S41°E

Dec 23 fore lower and uper top sails set watch shifting coal Saturday afternoon in the Work House 6 pm strong fair wind Course S33°E

Dec 24 2 am daybreak Clear. strong fair wind. Sea rough. Noon ship rolling heavy same conditions.

Dec 25 weather rough showry and cloudy. Christmas day cakes all over the fore castle but none like Murdo's cakes and oatmeal cakes 4 pm had a few words with the mate over stearing. hard case bound south.

Dec 26 look out off. 5.30 am clear. heavy sea strong south wind Course S 26°E. noon Lat 59°35'S lon 172E

Dec 27 4 am sea cold & cloudy. 6.30 am sighted two large Ice Bergs. 8am Bergs abeam flat tops resembling two large paddocks one about 4 miles square 10 am passing another. Noon all Sails in weather very heavy

Dec 28 3 am started snowing continued all day sun dept at 10 pm midnight as clear as at noon no more darkness

Dec 29 4 am passing a hugh Berg. drift Ice all day course S 28°E Calm wind E Ther. 34°

Dec 30th 4 am sea smooth clear and cold Course S30°E 5.30 am entered Antarctic Circle 64°33S occasional Berg and drift Ice. 7 pm entered a sea of pack Ice that makes the old "Aurora" tremble fore and aft. 68°Ss still 600 from the base

Dec 31 Calm and mild zig zag courses through the Ice continues all day meet the first penguings & seals on Ice. Mid night called on Capt. & Sir Earnest taking in New Year. Main Ice getting thiner calm & mild all day.

Jan 2nd the Sun upall night Course westerly making for the land Ice very heavy cold breeze in the afternoon trimming coal.

Jan 3rd 5 am held up by heavy Ice going slow ahead    noon stoped taking ice on board for water    4 pm under way. 6pm held up by heavy pack

Jan 4 held up all day SE snow storm.

Jan 5 got clear at 1 am held up    ---*--6 am for the day weather continued

Jan 6 Wind moderating sighted Mt. Sabine at 7 pm 71°S. Sat noon making very slow progress 2? miles for 24 hrs.

Jan 7 clear & calm Ice breaking up noon 71°46S through a heavy pack

Jan 8 fine clear weather 73°31 S

Jan 9 11.30 am sighted Mt. Terror & Mt. Erebus 100 miles off both on Ross Isle

Jan 10 fine clear morning 7.30 am entered McMurdo Sound towards Cape bird 20 mls from Cape Eavns* Hut 11 am stoped by solid Ice. land Shackleton & two men at Cape Royd his winter quarters, in 1907-09 Expedition returned & reported no signs of party noon sighted 6 men with dog team crossing the Ice from Cape Eavns Shackleton, Mois* and Doctor* leaves ship to meet them arriving back at 11.30 pm took photos etc. reported 3 men dead Capt. Mackintosh, Rev Smith* & Mr. Haywood, while another man in the Hut looking after Gear, etc. 3 pm 6 men leaves for cape Eavns* with dog team, another of four for Cape Royds to bring back specimens all on board 7.45 pm ship steams to the Sound and drifts there all night.

Jan 11 drifted in sound all day 10 pm sets out for butter point west side of sound lands a party at midnight to search for butter point depot.

Jan 12 1 am ship anchored to Ice. 2 am party returned no trace of depot 9 am left anchorage for Cape royds, arriving there 1.45 pm Ice started to break up. 4 pm anchored to the ice for the night

Jan 13 morning very cold air 22° of frost. 1.30 pm Shackleton joice* Jack & wild left for Hut pt, with dog team to erect a cross in memory of the 3 men dead another party went to cape royds for remainder of gear. 7.30 pm Cape Royd party on board. Ice breaking up and broke away from our mooring this being the third ice anchor lost puts to sea and stands off all night.

Jan 14 calm with the wind off the land. noon puts her bow up against the ice and remains so all day cold and stormy snow drift

15 very cold with strong SE snow storm, bow on to the ice. 7 pm started to clear up.

16 th brought a calm day ice breaking up in great batches and carried away to the north we were supposed to sail for home this morningbut through the wind changing to the NW caused the drifting ice to fall back on us and we couldn't stand of with being ashore by noon what was open water a few hrs previous was packed up by miles of ice we were properly jamed up ice all round as far as the eye could see. 1 pm shore party returned but no hope of getting clear

17 morning comes in with fallen snow. wind changes to E drift ice working out of sound 11.30 am took on board anchor and steamed northward for home 6 pm pass belford* Island. weather clear.

18 th 4 am pack iceon horizon all all round seemingly very heavy course is altered and working back along the edge of it but no sign of an opening all day, by 6 pm we were back to belford* Isle. again when there was no way of getting to open sea we put back to the Sound for the night and layed off Gannet Harbour*

19th Clear & chilly stearing north 10 am blocked stearing SE 3.30 pm got through the pack once more going NW. weather fine. 12 pm past franklin Isle.

20th Calm & warm 6 am among light pack 3 pm of Coleman* Island.

21st 2 am Cold wind light pack wind increasing noon sea rough 73°S

22nd Clear ice light    occasional berg    noon ice heavy. 2 pm back to S.

23rd Clear and very cold still going S.    noon 73°46S

24th snowing heavy, 5 pm past Franklin Isle arrived sound midnight

25 Clear entrance to Sound blocked by pack

26th 2 am got clear. full speed Course North. light Breeze

27th dull & calm 73°54S at noon 9 pm snowing wing SE

28th 28th     4 am close to Cape Adare    Wind increasing NW.    noon very strong wind & heavy sea 8 pm living gale ---?---N gale continues did not hold her own since 10 am

29th 1 am weather breaking    drift ice closing round us 4 am making little head way. 8 am heavy pack    noon heavy all round 70°40S

30th 4 am in pack for last 24 hrs    Noon 68°4S

31st    2 am wind increasing pack lighter    noon 66°50S    6 pm recrossed Antarctic Circle heavy swell and cold sleat.

Feb 1 fine weather    wind west passing large Bergs    Noon 63°10S. 2 pm fore sail and lower staisail set    3 pm lower topsail sets 9 pm midnight fore and lower topsails    wind WNW

2nd    3 am staisail in    8 am heavy sea with strong wind ahead    noon 62°5S    Course N40W 6 pm wind takes off and shifts to the south

3rd    4 am calm wind west    noon 60°15S    misty & drisly    3 pm foresail set    8 pm clear and fresh breeze

4th strong SE winds    noon 57°30S    course N55W in communication with shore

5th Drisly SE.     noon 54°26S    heavy wind and sea

6th S gale and nasty sea    Noon 50°50S N.30°W

7th weather continues    noon 47°4S    4pm wind takes off N20°W

8th light breeze    Wind E    noon 44°S

9th    4.30 am sighted the Kackories*    clear wind NW, course N30°W noon abeam Cape Campbell wind now very strong.5.30 pm inside    ?    6 pm pilot aboard kept her going round in the steam till the tug Kirake came off with the mayor & some ?p as Welcoming Party.   7.30 birthed at wool jetty. jetty crowded with people with hearty cheers for the Aurora and the returned men.    this practly finished the Relief Voyage."

Notes

Dec 20: "Earnest" should read ErnestJan 6: "cape Eavns" should read Cape EvansJan 6: "2?" could be 24 or 27Jan 10: "Mois" should read Morton MovesJan 10: "Doctor" was Dr. F.G. MiddletonJan 10: "Rev Smith" was Rev. Spencer-SmithJan 13: "Joice" should read JoyceJan 17: "Belford" should read BeaufortJan 18: "Grannet" should read GraniteJan 20: "Colman" should read CoulmanFeb 9: "Kackories" shoud read KaikourasFeb 9: The "Welcoming Party" referred to by the author consisted of prominent citizens of Wellington, led by the Mayor Sir J.P. Luke and Mr. W.H. Herries (acting Minister of Marine).

Douglas Mawson1882-1958

After Shackleton's heroic effort to attain the South Pole, the whole world stood by in anticipation as Scott and Amundsen announced their plans to conquer the extremes and grab the prize at 90°S. As their bases were being established in 1911, Australian geologist Douglas Mawson was quietly organizing an Australasian expedition to chart the 2000-mile coastline directly south of Australia. The great span between Cape Adare, lying to the south of New Zealand, and Gauss Berg, lying south of the Indian Ocean, was virgin land virtually unexplored. Mawsons' plans were first exposed during a trip to Europe in February 1910 when discussions were held with Robert Scott. Scott was eager to include Mawson in the TERRA NOVA EXPEDITION as Mawson had certainly proved his tenacity when he forced his way along an unforgiving route to the South Magnetic Pole on Shackleton's NIMROD EXPEDITION. However, an inclusion of Mawsons' plans was simply out of the question as Scott's itinerary was already full. After speaking with Shackleton, Mawson had to decline Scott's offer.

The Australian Association for the Advancement of Science gave their stamp of approval to Mawsons' plans and pledged a significant sum of money towards the cost of the expedition. Finances were then raised by public subscription with substantial contributions coming from the Commonwealth and State Governments, the British Government and the Royal Geographical Society. Professor Sir David Orme Masson, of Melbourne, and Professor Sir Edgeworth David, of Sydney, were the primary members of the A.A.A.S. appointed to further the cause of the expedition and represent the expedition in Australia.

Mawson's expedition team was selected primarily from Australian and New Zealand universities. The expedition vessel came from the Newfoundland sealing fleet. The AURORA, built in Dundee, was still in relatively good condition despite her old age. The hull was made of stout oak planks, sheathed with greenheart and lined with fir. The bow was a mass of solid wood re-enforced with steel-plated armor. The heavy side frames were braced by two levels of horizontal oak beams. The primary dimensions were 165 feet in length, 30 feet in width and 18 feet in depth, with a carrying capacity of approximately 600 tons. The engines were compound, supplied with steam from a single boiler. Six large steel tanks were built into the bottom of the hold for storage of fresh water. On the deck was a deck-house, comprising the cook's galley, steward's pantry and two laboratories. Forward from this area was storage for kerosene, lamps and other supplies. The fo'c'sle-head accommodated the carpenters' stores while below it were the quarters for a crew of sixteen men.

Captain of the ship and second in command would be John King Davis, of NIMROD fame. From the time the AURORA arrived in London for refitting until her departure for Australia, the scene was busy as alterations and replacements were hurried along in order to fit her for future work in the Antarctic. Stores and gear were purchased as donations rolled in from Europe and Australia. Mawson left London on June 22, 1911, leaving final instructions with Davis for completing the overhaul and sailing her out to Hobart.

 

The Crew

The chief objective of the Australasian Antarctic Expedition was to investigate, as far as

possible, the stretch of essentially unknown Antarctic coast extending between the farthest west of the TERRA NOVA EXPEDITION and the farthest east of the GAUSS EXPEDITION. Included in the scientific program would be examination of Macquarie Island lying 850 miles south-south-east of Hobart. In addition to land-based work, extensive investigation of the ocean and its floor between Australia and Antarctica was planned. No plans were made to attain the South Pole. From Hobart a course was to be set for Macquarie Island. A small party would land with stores and a hut and proceed to undertake scientific studies over the next year. After leaving Macquarie Island the ship would proceed along the meridian of 158°E longitude until reaching the ice pack. From here every attempt would be made to penetrate the ice to reach the continental mainland whereby a main party, equipped for a year's effort of scientific study and exploration, would be landed. A hut would be built and a Main Base established to enable the men extensive exploration opportunities over the Antarctic summer. The ship would then proceed westward as far as possible, before the end of the summer season, to establish a Western Base party. Having landed several parties, the AURORA would sail and steam her way back to Hobart. The following summer she would return to conclude the expedition and pick up the members of the land parties.

As stated earlier, most of the crew was made up of young graduates of Australian and New Zealand universities. Among the exceptions was Frank Wild, who was appointed in charge of one of the Antarctic wintering stations. Wild had already distinguished himself in the South on both the Scott and Shackleton expeditions. Also appointed in London were Lieutenant B.E.S. Ninnis of the Royal Fusiliers, Dr. X. Mertz, an expert Swiss mountaineer and F.H. Bickerton, in charge of the air-tractor sledge.

 

Staff of the Adelie Land Station(Main Base)*

Dr. D. Mawson Commander of the ExpeditionLt. R. Bage Astronomer, Assistant Magnetician & Recorder of TidesC.T. Madigan MeteorologistLt. B.E.S. Ninnis In charge of Greenland dogsDr. X. Mertz In charge of Greenland dogsA.L. McLean Chief Medical Officer, BacteriologistF.H. Bickerton In charge of air-tractor sledgeA.J. Hodgeman Cartographer and Sketch ArtistJ.F. Hurley Official PhotographerE.N. Webb Chief MagneticianP.E. Correll Mechanic and Assistant PhysicistJ.G. Hunter BiologistC.F. Laseron Taxidermist & Biological CollectorF.L. Stillwell GeologistH.D. Murphy In charge of Expedition storesW. H. Hannam Wireless Operator and MechanicJ.H. Close Assistant CollectorL.A. Whetter Surgeon

Staff of the Queen Mary Land Station(Western Base)

F. Wild Leader, Sledge-masterA.D. Watson GeologistS.E. Jones Medical OfficerC.T. Harrisson BiologistM.H. Moyes Meteorologist

A.L. Kennedy MagneticianC.A. Hadley GeologistC. Dovers Cartographer

Staff of the Macquarie Island Station

G.F. Ainsworth Leader: MeteorologistL.R. Blake Cartographer and GeologistH. Hamilton BiologistC.A. Sandell Wireless Operator & MechanicA.J. Sawyer Wireless Operator

The Ship's Party

J.K. Davis Master of the S.Y. Aurora & Second in Command of the ExpeditionJ.H. Blair First Officer during the final Antarctic CruiseP. Gray Second OfficerC.P. de la Motte Third OfficerF.J. Gillies Chief Engineer

*  During the second year of occupation the party at the Main Base was reduced to seven: Bage, Madigan, Bickerton, Hodgeman and Mawson, together with S.N. Jeffryes, who relieved Hannam with wireless operations. Added to these officers were a crew of 19, making a total of 24 in the ship's company. N.C. Toucher and later F.D. Fletcher served during the earlier voyages.

On November 4, 1911, Captain Davis arrived at Hobart with the AURORA after a voyage from London taking 100 days. At 4:00 p.m. on Saturday, December 2, the AURORA departed from Hobart for Macquarie Island. "God speed" messages had been received from all over the world with kind wishes for success coming from Queen Alexandra and His Majesty the King. At dusk, the hills in the distance were silhouetted against the sky as a tiny, sparkling lamp glimmered from Signal Hill indicating a warm farewell. From the AURORA the men flashed back, "Good-bye, all snug on board". Onward they pressed into a shroud of darkness, drawn to the undiscovered lands of the south.

During the night the wind and sea rose into a full gale. Anxieties ran high as immense quantities of deck cargo began thrashing about. The crew constantly worked at the lashings as a thousand gallons of benzene, kerosene and spirits threatened the men with a dousing of toxic vapors. Most of the men passed through a phase of seasickness, but in most cases it passed quickly. The plug in one of the fresh water tanks was carried away allowing seawater to rush in. Thereafter, the drinking supply had to be rationed. The wind increased and on the morning of December 5 the ship was hit with a huge wave which carried the starboard side of the bridge clean away. By the morning of December 8 the seas had subsided to the point where the AURORA could once again steer for Macquarie Island. At daybreak on December 11 they sighted the island. By noon they were along Caroline Cove at which time a boat was lowered and a party rowed to shore. Several hours were spent examining the area, Webb and Kennedy took a set of magnetic observations while others carried some cases of stores to a small, rocky hill to form a depot as it was decided the northern area of the island would be more suitable for a permanent base. They arrived back on the AURORA that evening and Captain Davis set a course for the northern end of the island. Dangerous reefs could be seen with towering waterfalls falling hundreds of feet from the highlands to the lowlands below. They arrived at North-East Bay which lies on the eastern side of a low spit which connects the bulk of the island with a flat-topped hill--Wireless Hill--approximately three-quarters of a mile farther north. Near the end of the spit two small huts were spotted but no human life. Below the huts, upon rocks

rising above the surf, lay a small schooner partly broken up. A mile south were fragments of another wreck. Suddenly a human figured appeared in front of one of the huts. He ran back into the hut and soon a whole number of men could be seen jumping and waving at them. One of the men signaled them with flags that the ship on the rocks was the CLYDED, that they had just recently become marooned and that all hands were safe. Besides the shipwrecked crew, some half-dozen men were residents of the island during the summer months for the purpose of collecting blubber. The sealers soon pushed a small boat right across the spit and came out to meet them. They were greatly relieved to hear that Mawson's auxiliary vessel, the TOROA, would be arriving soon and could take them back to civilization.

Ham Radio QSL Card Confirming My Contact With Macquarie Island

The hut was eventually built in the shadow of a large rock at the north end of the spit. After much discussion the wireless station was built at the summit of Wireless Hill, some three hundred and fifty feet high. By noon on December 13 all stores from the AURORA had been transferred ashore with most of the provisions arriving with the TOROA that afternoon. The provisions were quickly unloaded and the TOROA departed for Hobart on the morning of December 15. The final parting with the Macquarie Island party took place on the beach at dusk on the evening of December 23. The next morning they steamed down the west coast, southward bound.

At 4 p.m. on December 29 the cry of "Ice on the starboard bow!" was heard for the first time. On January 7 a bay, which Mawson named Commonwealth Bay, opened before them. On the far side of the bay was a cape presumed to be Cape Découverte, the most easterly extension of Adélie Land seen by Dumont d'Urville in 1840. At 4 p.m. on January 8, 1912, a whale boat was lowered and rowed towards shore. As land approached they found themselves amongst a group of islets, later named the Mackellar Islets. Weddell seals and Adélie penguins numbering in the thousands rested upon the rocks. The men soon stepped ashore, the first to set foot on the Antarctic continent between Cape Adare and Gaussberg, a distance of approximately 2000 miles. Cape Denison, as it was now called, became Mawson's Main Base of operations.

The unloading was completed by January 19 and it came none to soon. With January more than half over, the AURORA struggled along the coast to drop the eight-man Western Party, led by Frank Wild, on the Shackleton Ice Shelf at Queen Mary Land some 1500 miles from Cape Denison. Back at Cape Denison, the huts were completed by January 30 with the 18 men sleeping inside. By February the winds grew to a point that anything not tied down would be lost. Additionally, anyone caught outside without crampons would find himself in extreme danger. Calm days were so rare that routine chores outside were conducted in hurricane-force winds much of the time. Throughout March and April the wind often gusted to more than 100 miles per hour, occasionally peaking above 200 mph! The average wind speed for every hour of every day in May was 60.7 mph and on May 15 the wind averaged 90 mph over a twenty-four-hour period. On one occasion the 335-pound lid of the air-tractor case was blown 50 yards and, an hour later, was tossed back! The wind dominated their lives throughout the Antarctic winter.

At the end of February, despite dangerous weather conditions, Mawson decided to risk a short sojourn to survey the area. Cecil Madigan, the meteorologist, and Lt. R. Bage, the astronomer, joined Mawson on the trek. They planted flags, to guide the returning party, and managed to make 5.5 miles before weather forced them to turn back. One of the most important projects was

to build two radio masts. Started on April 4, the job was not completed until September 1. Some of the work had to be done in 60 mph winds and on October 13 the whole system came crashing to the ground. However, during the few weeks that the antenna system was operational, messages transmitted to the AURORA and Macquarie Island were received but nothing was received on Mawson's end. Communication was not reestablished until February 13, when two-way communication between Adélie Land and Macquarie Island was achieved for the very first time.

Bage (L) & Mertz in Aladdin's Cave

Typical to many Antarctic expeditions of the era, winter months were filled with long periods of inactivity and boredom. During the winter of 1912, games, concerts and tomfoolery permeated the dark, cold days. After midwinter celebrations, the expedition prepared for spring sledging and on August 9 Mawson, Madigan and B.E.S. Ninnis headed south into a 40 mph gale. After struggling 5.5 miles, the men dug an ice shelter, which they named Aladdin's Cave, and set up a supply depot. In September an unusual five straight days of calm weather arrived. Several of the men sledged food and equipment to Aladdin's Cave while three other sledging parties tested equipment during the peaceful days. Mawson gave instructions to each sledging party to limit their respective travels to 14 days and 50 miles. Two of the parties fought 80 mph winds, making little headway, while another could only achieve 2.5 miles. The western party, however, did manage to make it 50-miles out but returned exhausted and frostbitten. During October the weather was so bad that no sledging was possible. In November the weather improved as Mawson made plans for further sledging. Five parties would head out with three traveling to the east, one south to the magnetic pole and one to the west. Mawson himself planned to lead the treacherous Far Eastern trek, using the dogs. A combination of the Southern and Support Party left Aladdin's Cave on November 10, heading in a southerly direction in horrible weather conditions.

Mawson instructed all men to return no later than January 15 as the AURORA was expected to be waiting for them. The Southern Party, led by Bage, struck out in gale-force winds as Webb took complicated magnetic readings to help guide them towards the magnetic pole. On November 22, after traveling 65 miles, the Support Party returned to Main Base as the three men, comprising the Southern Party, continued south on their 600-mile round trip. The temperatures were still cold at night and were typically below -20°F. They reached their farthest south on December 21 when time and food were running short. Webb calculated they were about 50 miles short of the south magnetic pole. The Near and Eastern Coastal parties had left Main Base on November 8 to rendezvous with Mawson's Far Eastern Party 18 miles southeast of Aladdin's Cave. Part of the Near Eastern Party's function was to provide support for the other two. They then worked along the coast between Cape Denison and the Mertz Glacier Tongue. Without a doubt, the Eastern Coastal Party, led by Madigan, enjoyed the most beautiful scenery of the expedition. By December 10 they had crossed the hazardous Mertz Glacier and, with rations for four weeks, tackled the Ninnis Glacier. The party's farthest east camp, on a rocky cliff called Horn Bluff, was pitched on December 18...they were 270 miles from Cape Denison. On the return trip they were delayed by blizzards and deep, soft snow while re-crossing the Mertz Glacier. They finally reached a food cache on Mt. Murchison after three days on nothing more than a mug of penguin broth each.

Vickers REP air-tractor The Western Party, led by Frank Bickerton, planned on crossing the coastal highlands west

of Cape Denison by using the air-tractor. Stripped of its wings, fittings and covering, the Vickers airplane was to be used as a tractor for towing sledges. The machine cost £900. Unfortunately, the engine could not withstand the extreme conditions and was abandoned early in the trek. Soft and drifting snow hampered their sledging with the team only making 31 miles in the first seven days. However, an extraordinary discovery took place as the first meteorite in Antarctica was discovered. The farthest camp to the west was pitched on Christmas Day, 158 miles from Main Base. Meanwhile at Cape Denison everyone, including the crew of the AURORA now awaited the return of Mawson's overdue Far Eastern Party, unaware that he would eventually stumble in, alone and exhausted, with a story to tell that rivals any pertaining to polar exploration.

Mawson and his three-man party left Main Base on November 10, 1912. By the end of November they had made it across the heavily crevassed Mertz Glacier and were now facing the "tumultuous and broken" Ninnis Glacier where progress "amid rolling waves of ice" was slow. For three days, from December 6 to the 9th, the party remained trapped by a 70 mph blizzard. On the 9th the dogs and sledges were dug out of the snow and the men proceeded on. On December 13 one of the sledges was discarded and on the 14th, Dr. Xavier Mertz, ahead on skis, signaled that he had spotted another snow-covered crevasse. Mawson made it across easily but Mertz cried out as Ninnis suddenly disappeared. Mawson turned around and was horrified to see Ninnis, the sledge and all the dogs gone. Rushing to the edge of the crevasse, the men stared down into a deep, gaping hole where, on a ridge some 150 feet below, was a dog, whining, its back apparently broken. Beneath that was only the abyss. Mertz and Mawson called into the depths for over three hours. They gathered all the rope they had but still could not even reach as far as the dog. They were in serious trouble as Ninnis's sledge, pulled by the six fittest dogs, had carried most of the indispensable supplies, including the tent, most of the food and spare clothing. The remaining sledge carried only 10 days of rations for the two men and nothing for the six dogs...they were 315 miles from Main Base.

They still had a spare tent cover, the cooker and some kerosene. But they had laid no depots on the outward journey as they expected to take an easier route back to Main Base. They made it back to the discarded sledge, picked up a few items and then disposed of everything not essential. A crude tent was devised by draping the remaining tent cover over skis and sledge struts. The dogs were fed worn-out finnesko, mitts and rawhide straps. On December 15 the weakest dog was killed to feed to the others and the men. This pattern was continued over the next 10 days until the final dog collapsed. Although the meat was tough and stringy, every scrap was eaten, including the paws which were stewed. By Christmas Day they were still 160 miles from Main Base. Most days they covered only 6 miles but on December 30 they managed 15. The next day Mertz asked to come off the dog-meat diet and try a small portion of their remaining sledging rations.

On January 1, 1913, he developed stomach pains and the next day his strength was nearly gone. They rested on January 5 and the next day they tried to forge on. Dr. Mertz finally agreed to be hauled on the sledge by Mawson...by this time Mertz even had to be helped in and out of his sleeping bag. One hundred miles southeast of Main Base, on January 7, Mertz became delirious and died. Mawson wrote, "For hours I lay in the bag, rolling over in my mind all that lay behind and the chance of the future. I seemed to stand alone on the wide shores of the world...My physical condition was such that I felt I might collapse at any moment...Several of my

toes commenced to blacken and fester near the tips and the nails worked loose. There appeared to be little hope...It was easy to sleep on in the bag, and the weather was cruel outside". Then on January 17 Mawson found himself dangling in a crevasse at the end of his 14-foot harness. Delirious and exhausted, Mawson struggled to pull himself out, only to reach the lip and fall back in. Mawson wrote, "My strength was ebbing fast; in a few moments it would be too late. The struggle occupied some time, but by a miracle I rose slowly to the surface. This time I emerged feet first...and pushed myself out...Then came the reaction, and I could do nothing for quite and hour". By now it was taking Mawson two hours to set up camp at the end of each day. On January 27 a blizzard brought him to his knees but on the 29th, his food nearly gone, he spotted a snow cairn. It had been built by McLean, Hodgeman and Hurley who had been out searching for the party. The cairn was only a few hours old as Mawson consumed the food and read an attached note declaring the AURORA was waiting and Aladdin's Cave was only 23 miles distant. Mawson arrived at the cave at 7 p.m. on February 1, but the weather closed in and trapped him for another week. Eventually, he set out in spite of the conditions and reached Cape Denison in time to see a departing speck on the horizon...the AURORA.

However, Mawson was greeted as though back from the dead by six men left behind to continue the search. The AURORA was immediately recalled by radio but ice conditions prohibited the ship from returning. At Cape Denison, the seven men reconciled themselves to another winter of blizzards and confinement. But, they were well stocked with supplies and the repaired radio antenna survived all the spectacular blizzards. Mawson, Madigan and Hodgeman made a sledge trip in late November and on December 12 the AURORA returned. By December 24, 1913, their two-year expedition was over and on February 5, 1914, after more than a month of sailing along the Antarctic coast, Captain John Davis steered the ship northward. The AURORA entered Gulf St. Vincent on February 26. Mawson wrote, "The welcome home, the voices of innumerable strangers--the hand-grips of many friends--it chokes me--it cannot be uttered!"

As for the eight-man Western Party under Frank Wild, conditions were severe but not nearly as difficult as those at Main Base. The men settled into their hut, "The Grottoes", towards the end of the 1912 sledging season. An early disappointment was the destruction of the radio mast in the first blizzard. Throughout the winter the men worked each day from 10 a.m. to 1 p.m. Winds blew up to 100 mph and nearly buried the hut in snow. Depot-laying trips were still made as early as August and sledge parties later explored and mapped the nearby coastline. Wild's push to the east was brought up short due to severe crevasses in the Denman Glacier, 120 miles from base. The western team crossed the Helen Glacier and discovered extensive penguin rookeries in the process. By Christmas Day they reached Gaussberg, discovered some ten years earlier by Erich von Drygalski. The entire party was picked up by the AURORA on February 23, 1913.

The decade after the end of the first World War in Europe saw the beginning of the Mechanical Era which would completely revolutionize Antarctic exploration and scientific research. At an Imperial Conference held in London in 1926, the importance of further exploration and scientific research in the Antarctic quadrant claimed as British Territory, was strongly stressed. It was pointed out that a vital need was to continue and extend exploratory and scientific activities to solidify Britain's territorial rights to what constituted nearly one-third of the continent, extending between Enderby Land at 45°E and King George V Land at 160°E longitude, excluding Adélie Land. Following his expedition in 1911-14, a strong desire remained with Mawson to continue his work to the west beyond Enderby Land. In July 1927, an Antarctic Committee was set up, supported by the Australian National Research Council. After several meetings it was determined that an Australian Antarctic expedition be planned with Sir Douglas Mawson as leader. The area defined for exploration was the entire coast of the territory over which Britain

claimed sovereignty.

One of the first major problems was to find a suitable ship. The expedition was extremely fortunate in that the famous DISCOVERY was made available by the British Government. Built in Dundee and launched in 1900, the ship served Robert Scott's British National Antarctic Expedition of 1901-04. After the return of the Scott expedition the vessel was sold to the Hudson Bay Company for trading purposes. In 1922, she was purchased by the British Government for oceanographic research in waters around the Falkland Islands Dependencies.

Plans and organization of the expedition were completed by June 1929. Due to joint interests and financial support, the expedition was to be called the British, Australian and New Zealand Antarctic Research Expedition, or BANZARE for short. The DISCOVERY, commanded by Mawson's old friend John K. Davis (who was also second in command of the expedition), sailed from Cardiff for Cape Town on August 18, 1929. Little interest was created as only a handful of spectators stood by the docks as the DISCOVERY slipped away. Nevertheless, the dock workers cheered and ships' sirens screamed a farewell as she steamed out on her voyage to the Cape. The ship sailed from Cape Town on October 29, 1929. The DISCOVERY stopped at Îles Crozets, Îles Kerguelen and Heard Island before continuing south to the Antarctic coastline.

An aerial survey by S.A.C. Campbell and E. Douglas on the last day of 1929 revealed indistinct icescapes, probably continental, at latitude 68°11'S, longitude 65°10'E. Mawson and Campbell flew on January 5, 1930, and confirmed an extensive new coast of ice cliffs and rocky mountains. Mawson named the discovered area MacRobertson Land. On January 13 a party landed on a steep offshore island and named it Proclamation Island. The British flag was raised and the claim to full sovereignty of the territory, including Enderby Land, Kemp Land and MacRobertson Land south of latitude 60°S and between latitudes 47° and 73°E, was read to a small shore party and a few penguins. Mawson wanted to stay longer but since this was never intended to be anything other than a summer expedition, Captain Davis insisted they head north rather than run the risk of running short of coal and becoming stuck in the ice. An attempt was made to obtain additional coal from a South African factory ship but inclement weather prohibited this so they sailed for Australia, via Kerguelen.

Final Proclamation / Cape Bruce, Feb 14, 1931 The second half of the BANZARE, again under the command of Sir Douglas Mawson, sailed from Hobart on November 22, 1930 and returned on March 19, 1931. This time Captain K.N. MacKenzie replaced Captain J.K. Davis as commander of the DISCOVERY but again there were problems of divided command and short coal supplies. The DISCOVERY first called at Macquarie Island and then searched for the Royal Company and Emerald Islands. Although these island groups were noted by early whalers, it is now known that they never existed. They continued on and reached Cape Denison on January 4, 1931. Mawson stepped ashore at Commonwealth Bay and once again visited his Main Base built in 1911. Magnetic measurements were taken with the discovery that the magnetic pole had moved a considerable distance since 1914. The ship

then sailed along the Adélie and Wilkes Land coasts to the Banzare Land coast, Queen Mary Land, Princess Elizabeth Land and MacRobertson Land, where they crossed the path made the previous year. A number of flights and landings were made to reinforce surveys taken from the DISCOVERY. Following the conclusion of the BANZARE, a British Order in Council, of February 1933, affirmed the King's sovereignty over Antarctic territory south of latitude 60°S and, apart from Adélie Land, between longitudes 160°E and 45°E. The regions were placed under the control of the Commonwealth of Australia, from the date of her acceptance. The Acceptance Bill was proclaimed on August 24, 1936. The scientific work of the expedition took many years to gather and prepare and although much of it appeared in official BANZARE scientific reports, some results are still unpublished to this day.

Douglas Mawson was born in Yorkshire and came to Australia as a boy. He studied geology under Edgeworth David at Sydney University and was appointed a lecturer at Adelaide University in 1905. He was appointed Professor of Geology in 1920. Mawson retired from the university in 1952 and died in 1958, the last leader from the heroic era.

Ham Radio QSL Card Confirming My 2-Way RadioContact With Mawson Base

Roald Amundsen1872-1928

 

Roald Amundsen, born in 1872 near Oslo, Norway, left his mark on the Heroic Era as one of the most successful polar explorers ever born. His career of adventure began at the age of 15, originally studying medicine, but dropping out to go to sea where he soon moved his way up to the rank of mate. His first experience in the Antarctic was with Adrien de Gerlache's 1899 BELGICA EXPEDITION. He became the first to travel the Northwest Passage, in his ship Gjoa in 1903-06. After this expedition, plans were

assembled to drift across the North Pole in Nansen's famous FRAM, but news arrived of Peary's successful attainment of the pole which caused Amundsen to make new plans--covert plans--for an expedition to the Antarctic and the subsequent capture of the South Pole. On December 14, 1911, Amundsen and four others stood at the South Pole, a month before Robert Scott. This expedition was an incredible masterpiece of organization. Here is the story...

"The North Pole is reached!" was the news that flashed all over the world...it was September 1909 when the news reached Amundsen. The original plan of the FRAM'S third voyage--the exploration of the North Polar basin--was quickly called off. In order to save the expedition, Amundsen immediately turned his attention to the South simultaneously emphasizing to his financial contributors that the FRAM'S Arctic voyage would be, in every way, a scientific expedition and would have nothing to do with record-breaking. Therefore, as far as the supporters were aware, Amundsen's Arctic voyage would not be influenced one way or another by Peary's accomplishment. Since he was so heavily in debt, Amundsen felt his change in plans to head south and capture the South Pole should be kept a secret. In his own words, Amundsen wrote, "I know that I have been reproached for not having at once made the extended plan public, so that not only my supporters, but the explorers who were preparing to visit the same regions might have knowledge of it. I was well aware that these reproaches would come, and had therefore carefully weighed this side of the matter". As hinted at, he also felt it important to keep his intentions secret from his peers. "Nor did I feel any great scruples with regard to the other Antarctic expeditions that were being planned at the time. I knew I should be able to inform Captain Scott of the extension of my plans before he left civilization, and therefore a few months sooner or later could be of no great importance. Scott's plan and equipment were so widely different from my own that I regarded the telegram that I sent him later, with the information that we were bound for the Antarctic regions, rather as a mark of courtesy than as a communication which might cause him to alter his programme in the slightest degree. The British expedition was designed entirely for scientific research. The Pole was only a side-issue, whereas in my extended plan it was the main object". Amundsen must have been in a dream world as this simply was not true. Scott's intention to try for the Pole had been widely publicized and was certainly not a side issue...one only need turn to Scott's Antarctic Expedition announcement in the September 13, 1909, issue of The Times of London.

Amundsen admitted that he was heavily in debt and knew that his best chance of raising money was to bring off a spectacular triumph. Amundsen wrote, "If at that juncture I had made my intention public, it would only have given occasion for a lot of newspaper discussion, and possibly have ended in the project being stifled at its birth. Everything had to be got ready quietly and calmly. My brother, upon whose absolute silence I could blindly rely, was the only person I let into the secret of my change of plan, and he did me many important services during the time when we alone shared the knowledge". The only other man to know of the change in plans was the ship's commander, Lieutenant Thorvald Nilsen. Amundsen kept his plans so secret that only these two men, along with Lieutenants Prestrud and Gjertsen (told on the eve of the FRAM'S departure), knew of them before the FRAM reached Madeira, ostensibly on the way to Buenos Aires and then northwards to the Arctic; the Madeira trip was supposed to be mainly for the purpose of oceanographical research.

The Norwegians left Christiania on August 9, 1910, eight weeks after Scott's TERRA NOVA EXPEDITION had departed Cardiff. On board were 97 Greenland dogs, the key to Amundsen's success, along with a hut and provisions for two years in the Antarctic. A month later, on September 6, the FRAM arrived at Madeira where fresh water and other provisions were taken on board. A few minor repairs were made to the ship as the crew enjoyed some free time ashore. On the evening of the 9th, some three hours before departing for Antarctica, Amundsen called the crew to his attention. Many of the men were quite puzzled and unhappy to be interrupted as they were quickly writing final letters for home. As they came on deck, Amundsen was standing next to a map of Antarctica pinned to the mainmast. Amundsen spoke, "...it is my intention to sail Southwards, land a party on the Southern continent and try to reach the South Pole". Gjertsen wrote, "Most stood there with mouths agape staring at the Chief like so many question marks". Amundsen personally asked each man if he would like to join him on this historic journey. The last man to go ashore was Amundsen's brother, Leon. His charge would be to mail the men's letters and cable Scott...but not until the beginning of October when Amundsen knew he would be beyond the point of recall. Once Amundsen left Madeira, he vanished, bound for an unknown destination...Scott never dreamt it would be the Ross Sea. Scott, on board the TERRA NOVA, arrived in Melbourne on the evening of October 12, 1910. Among the mail waiting for him was Amundsen's telegram, sent from Madeira, which came as a complete surprise: "Beg leave inform you proceeding Antarctic. Amundsen." Although there is no record of Scott's reaction, Evans later recalled, "we considered that he [Amundsen] would go to the Pole from the Weddell Sea side". In London, Sir Clements Markham eagerly put forth his opinion: "She [the FRAM] has no more sailing qualities than a haystack. In any case, Scott will be on the ground and settled long before Amundsen turns up, if he ever does". Markham gleaned information from his sources in Norway and reported to the Royal Geographic Society's secretary, on October 15, that Amundsen had "quietly got a wintering hut made on board and 100 dogs and a supply of tents and sledges. His secret design must have been nearly a year old. They believe his mention of Punta Aranas and Buenos Aires is merely a blind, and that he is going to McMurdo Sound to try to cut out Scott...If I were Scott I would not let them land, but he is always too good-natured". Whatever the rights and wrongs of the matter, the general view among those involved in Scott's expedition was that Amundsen's behavior was underhanded.

It took the FRAM four months to reach the Ross Ice Shelf, on January 14, 1911. Amundsen chose the Bay of Whales as winter headquarters for a number of reasons. First, they could sail a whole degree farther south than Scott could hope to get in McMurdo Sound, putting them 60

miles closer to the Pole; secondly, they could set up their headquarters right on top of their field of work; thirdly, animal life in the Bay of Whales was extraordinarily rich and offered all the fresh meat the men required in the form of seals, penguins, etc. Besides, it offered a favorable site for an investigation of the meteorological conditions in all directions and was very easy to reach by ship. Unloading started on January 15 with camp established two miles inland. The first sledge was loaded with supplies, hitched to eight dogs and led away by Amundsen.

For the next three weeks, five sledges, 46 dogs and five men transferred some 10 tons of supplies daily to base camp. Meanwhile, the carpenter, Jorgen Stubberud, supervised the assembly of the prefabricated hut. After a visit from Scott's TERRA NOVA, the base camp was christened Framheim--"The home of Fram"--and the depot-laying journeys began. Within a three-week period, depots were established at 80°S, 81°S and 82°S...more than a ton and a half of supplies had been stored within 480 miles of the Pole. On April 21 the sun finally sank and the long winter night began.

FRAM, taken by a crewmember aboard TERRA NOVA

A great deal of work had to be done over the next four months. Amundsen was well aware of potential problems brought by nine men cramped into close quarters over the long winter nights so a strict routine was quickly introduced. Six days a week the men would rise at 7:30 am, have breakfast, start work at 9:00 and have lunch at noon. They would return to their work at 2:00 pm and end at 5:15, with the balance of the day to be used as they pleased. Each man took his turn as the week's housekeeper emptying ashtrays, sweeping up and generally keeping the hut clean. Each man had two hooks on which to hang clothes, while the rest of their small stuff was kept out of sight in a clothes sack nearby. In addition to the hut in which they lived, fifteen 16-man tents were erected to store fuel and supplies. Bjaaland and Hassel built a Scandanavian staple...a sauna. A bottomless box, on a platform raised two feet off the ice floor, was built large enough to slip over the man, allowing only his head to protrude. A tin box, fitted between the platform and the ice floor, was heated by two paraffin stoves. As the water boiled, the compartment would fill with steam. When the man was finished, a rope-and-pulley system would lift the box clear, exposing a naked man, who then had to make a dash back to the hut. Exposure to the elements would quickly seal the pores...the event became a Saturday night ritual.

Over the winter, every man had specific chores. Kristian Prestrud, assisted by Hjalmar Johansen, made scientific observations; Sverre Hassel, assisted by Helmer Hanssen, was nicknamed the "Managing Director of Framheim's Coal, Oil and Coke Company Limited", the position responsible for supplying lamps and heaters with fuel. Johansen packed the sledges with pemmican, chocolate, milk powder and biscuits. Remodelling and overhauling of the expedition's sledging equipment was left to the skilled carpenter, Olav Bjaaland, assisted by Jorgen Stubberud. Bjaaland was an expert at reducing unnecessary weight on the sledges. As well as preparing two sets of skis for each man, Bjaaland lightened the weight of the sledges by nearly one third. Stubberud achieved similar results with the sledging cases. When Bjaaland was finished, Hanssen and Oscar Wisting would assemble the sledge using rawhide lashings. In a tiny snow cave off the main storage room, Wisting spent most of the winter at a sewing machine where new tents were made, complete with floors, from weight-saving windcloth. The new tents weighed nearly nine pounds less than the tents brought on the expedition. The camp's cook was an overweight and jolly man named Adolf Lindstrom. Lindstrom would rise each morning at 6:00 am to prepare a breakfast of hot buckwheat cakes spread with whortleberry preserve, plus wholemeal bread enriched with wheatgerm, butter and cheese. Amundsen said Lindstroms' cakes "slipped down with fabulous rapidity". As for lunch, various meals were prepared from fresh or frozen seal meat, supplemented with tinned meats by the end of winter. For dessert,

tinned California fruits, tarts, pudding, pies and pastries, all made by Lindstrom, were served. Supper was seal steak, bread with butter, whortleberry jam and cheese. Coffee was the staple beverage although brandy was served on Saturday evenings, birthdays and holidays. Amundsen made certain the food at Framheim was very nutritious since he'd learned first-hand the effects of scurvy while on the BELGICA EXPEDITION in 1897.

The men actually enjoyed getting together each evening over supper. Since they had worked in different parts of the camp during the day, rarely was there a lack of conversation come evening time. Card games, dart matches, reading and needlework took place often around the main table. Occasionally the gramophone was brought out and a few records played. But, despite the relative easy passing of winter nights, Amundsen remained worried about Johansen's quick temper. Forced abstinence from alcohol made Johansen quite difficult to deal with at times. To make matters worse, Johansen had as much experience in polar exploration as Amundsen; he had been to the Arctic with Nansen. Johansen felt this put him, at worst, on level par with Amundsen. And then there was the matter of Robert Scott...how far had the English advanced? Amundsen was aware that Scott was using motorized sledges although he doubted their efficiency. Little did he know of what was going on at McMurdo Sound.

Fridtjof Nansen

By August 24 the sun had reappeared and the packed sledges were ready to be taken out from their underground storage. But two long, frustrating months would pass before the weather was warm enough for them to start the journey to the Pole. Tensions increased as each day passed. Amundsen would have the men and dogs prepared for departure only to cancel at the last moment due to inclement weather. The weather had to be clear for their first run to the 80°S depot, or there was a real risk of missing it. Finally, on Friday, September 8, 1911, they sped off across the snow...eight men with sledges pulled by 86 dogs; only Lindstrom was left behind as custodian of Framheim. Amundsen wrote that "the going was splendid" and they covered 31 miles over the next three days. However, on the morning of the 11th they awoke to frigid temperatures nearing -70°F. By the next day, conditions were even worse as the fluid in their compasses froze solid. Amundsen determined that it was simply too risky to continue on towards the Pole. That evening a decision was made to make a run for the depot, weather permitting, unload their sledges and race back to Framheim. The weather co-operated and they arrived at the depot on Thursday. The next evening Hanssen and Stubberud discovered their heels were frostbitten. As well, a number of the dogs were suffering from the cold; two of the dogs froze to death in their sleep. At 7:00 the next morning they set off for Framheim.

Johansen They would normally keep in sight of each other but the first two sledges moved so rapidly that the others were soon left behind. The sledge teams continued to break up, with Bjaaland and Stubberud reaching Framheim first at 6 pm, followed two hours later by Amundsen's group. A half an hour after that Hassel arrived and six hours later, at 12:30 am, Johansen and Prestrud finally stumbled into camp. Johansen and Prestrud were totally exhausted, having found Framheim in the dark and fog only by following the barking of the dogs. At breakfast the next morning, Amundsen finally succeeded in knocking the chip off Johansen's shoulder when Amundsen asked why it had taken them so

long to make it back to Framheim. Johansen exploded, angrily accusing Amundsen of panicking and displaying poor leadership qualities when the group had been allowed to split up. In the dead silence that followed, Amundsen remained speechless. It was what Amundsen had always feared--a confrontation with the one man in the expedition with experience to equal his own. This brought to an end the harmony amongst all the men as Amundsen never forgave Johansen or spoke to him unless absolutely necessary. Amundsen's excuse to the others was that Hanssen was suffering too severely from frostbite to linger behind...the men were not totally convinced.

At noon, Amundsen announced to his men a change in plans. Amundsen would lead one party to the Pole while Prestrud--with Johansen--would lead a second party to explore King Edward VII Land. Amundsen's decision was not a revengeful one as he felt that if the Pole party were not successful, at least there might still be a "first" gained for Norway. Amundsen then spoke to each man individually (ignoring Johansen), asking for his pledge of loyalty...all gave it. And so, on October 20, 1911, Amundsen, Bjaaland, Wisting, Hassel and Hanssen departed on their historic journey to the Pole. Four sledges were used, each pulled with 13 dogs. They made good progress, other than a little trouble with crevasses, and arrived at 80°S depot on the 24th. They uncovered the provisions and gave the dogs a feast of seal meat and blubber. The next day the party left with all five men on skis. On the way south, they spotted a cairn still standing as they had built it the prior April. Thus proving reliability, another 150 similar cairns were built on the journey south, each left with a written record inside stating the distance and bearing to the next cairn. Each day, as they built their cairn, lunch was eaten..."nothing very luxurious", wrote Amundsen, "three or four dry oatmeal biscuits, that was all. If one wanted a drink, one could mix snow with the biscuit". They arrived at 82°S depot on November 4. Two days later they left...they were accomplishing 20 miles each day, in only five hours, after which they would build their cairn, in an hour and a half, and then rest for the remainder of the day. On November 11 the peaks of mountains were seen in the distance, which Amundsen later named Queen Maud's Range, after the Queen of Norway. At the foot of the range they camped and discussed strategy for the final push to the Pole, some 340 miles distant. The final plan was to take supplies and provisions for 30 days, along with the remaining 42 dogs, and make the climb. After reaching the top, 24 of the dogs would be shot, since they would no longer be needed, using the remaining 18 in the final dash for the Pole. Once reached, six more would be slaughtered to provide food for the remaining twelve on the trip back to Framheim. On November 17 they started the climb up the Axel Heiberg Glacier. The weather was warm and the climb even better as they covered 11.5 miles before making camp at 2000 feet. Four days later, on November 21, they found themselves at the summit. They'd managed to carry a ton of supplies to an altitude of 10,000 feet. Twenty-four dogs were shot and the party stayed at "The Butcher's Shop", as it was now called, for four more days before heading off into a raging blizzard. They had already waited two days longer than planned so they had no choice but to push on. For the next ten days they struggled, five men and 18 dogs, against driving snow in 35 mph winds and thick fog. At last they reached the plateau, only to be confronted by "The Devil's Ballroom", a glacier with a thin crust of snow covering a number of dangerous, deep crevasses. This proved to be the last major obstacle.

On December 8, with the sun shining brightly, they passed Shackleton's farthest south, 88°23'S. They were only 95 miles from the South Pole. The dogs were hungry and exhausted, the men had many sores and frostbitten faces, yet still the party pushed on. The closer they came to the Pole, the more Amundsen worried that Scott had already beaten them. The temptation to race on, at full speed, was shared by everyone. At 3:00 pm, on Friday, December 14, 1911, there was a simultaneous cry of "Halt!" as the sledge meters registered their arrival at the South Pole. They had achieved their goal. Symbolic of their struggle in unity, each of the men, with their weathered and frostbitten hands, grasped the Norwegian flag and planted it firmly at the geographical South Pole. Amundsen named the plain King Haakon VII's Plateau. There were festivities in the

tent that evening with each man sharing a little seal meat. At midnight observations were taken that put them at 89° 56'S. Arrangements were now made to encircle the camp with a radius of approximately twelve and a half miles.

At noon, on December 17, the observations had been completed and it was certain the men had done all that could be done. In order to come a few inches closer to the actual Pole, Hanssen and Bjaaland went out four geographical miles and promptly returned. Bjaaland surprised Amundsen when he pulled out a cigar-case full of cigars at dinner. A cigar at the Pole! Following the festival dinner, preparations for departure began. A tent was erected, naming it Poleheim, with Amundsen leaving a message inside for Scott, along with a letter for King Haakon. Thirty-nine days later the party returned to Framheim, as planned, with all five men and 11 dogs "hale and hearty". The month-long voyage back to Tasmania was a frustrating time for Amundsen, who was now quite anxious to be the first to announce the news of their achievement. On March 7, 1912, Amundsen finally cabled his brother Leon with the historic news.

During World War I Amundsen made a significant amount of money from supplying "neutral" shipping. He went on to build the MAUD in order to continue his Arctic drift. He managed to complete the Northwest Passage around Siberia--only the second to do so--but failed in his attempt to proceed farther north. Subsequently, he left the ship in 1921. Amundsen now became consumed with flying, but was soon facing extreme financial hardship before gaining support from Lincoln Ellsworth. Together with Ellsworth, history was made when they flew the airship NORGE from Spitsbergen to Alaska via the North Pole. This was the first trans-Arctic flight right across the Pole. Amundsen, fulfilled by his reputation, now retired. Unfortunately, he never could come to terms with the British reaction to his secret change of plans in 1910. Mill, of the Royal Geographic Society, described him as the most unhappy of all the polar explorers he had ever met. In 1928, while searching for survivors of an airship disaster, Amundsen's plane crashed and he disappeared without a trace.

Ham Radio QSL Card Confirming My 2-Way Radio Contact With the South Pole

Wilhelm Filchner1877-1957

 

Wilhelm Filchner was born in Bayreuth, Germany on September 13, 1877. At the age of 15 he joined the Prussian Military Academy. His first expedition was a seven-week sojourn through Russia when he was 21 years old. When he was 23 he accomplished a one-man journey on horseback through the Pamir Range of central Asia. An expedition to Tibet was led by Filchner in 1903-05 and upon his return, plans were developed to lead an expedition on the crossing of Antarctica in an attempt to determine if Antarctica was one piece of land. Filchner's original plans were for one ship to enter the Weddell Sea while a second would enter the Ross Sea. Land parties would then embark on an attempt to meet at the middle of the continent. Unfortunately, expenses needed to be trimmed so one vessel, the DEUTSCHLAND, would have to do. By the spring of 1908 Filchner had selected his team of scientists which included two doctors, an oceanographer and an astronomer. None of the men, including Filchner, had experienced any polar exposure so a mini-expedition was led to Spitsbergen. Six members of the team, along with one dog, crossed areas of the island in the Arctic Ocean in order to prepare them for what lay ahead.

Filchner's ship, the DEUTSCHLAND, was a Norwegian ship built specifically for work in polar seas. Originally named the BJORN, she was acquired with the assistance of Ernest Shackleton, Otto Nordenskjöld and Fridtjof Nansen. Under the command of Captain Richard Vahsel, the DEUTSCHLAND left the port of Bremerhaven on May 4, 1911. Her first stop was at Buenos Aires where they loaded additional stores, coal and 14 tons of rock ballast.

They left Buenos Aires on October 4 and arrived on the 18th at South Georgia where they spent the next 48 days at the Norwegian whaling station at Grytviken. While there, they boarded the UNDINE and investigated the coasts, making new charts, and re-opened the observatory at Royal Bay. They also made an exploratory trip to the South Sandwich Islands. The ship and crew departed for the Weddell Sea on December 11, 1911. Filchner wrote, "None of us knew if we would ever come back alive".

The first ice was encountered on December 15 with progress from this point forward changing daily. One day the men would work in shirtsleeves while the next day would follow with fog, snow and freezing temperatures. By early January, 1912, the ship was completely surrounded by icebergs and floes. Filchner wrote, "In three days we spotted almost 200 bergs". On January 27 samples of clay were brought up from 11,250 feet providing evidence of approaching land. Three days later, at 3 o'clock in the afternoon, land was sighted to the southeast. An ice cliff, approximately 100 feet high, appeared in the distance with the continent gradually rising behind it to a height of 2000 feet. Filchner wrote, "We had reached the cliff of the ice overlaying the Antarctic landmass, land that nobody before had seen or stepped upon, new territory". This would be the southernmost point reached by the DEUTSCHLAND. Filchner named this region Prince Regent Luitpold Land, now known as the Luitpold Coast. The DEUTSCHLAND steamed alongside the ice shelf for several days. (Filchner named the ice shelf after Kaiser Wilhelm but the emperor later changed it to the Filchner Ice Shelf).

The DEUTSCHLAND eventually reached an ice-rimmed bay at the foot of a huge ice shelf where Filchner and the crew made plans to erect their winter camp, or stationhaus, as Filchner called it. An important feature of the area was a natural landing ramp where "all the material necessary to erect a 'stationhaus' could be easily and quickly unloaded. A precondition for the project was, of course, that the berg for the 'stationhaus' be resting solidly on the sea floor". Construction of the camp began on February 9 with the unloading of materials, dogs and ponies. By February 17 the stationhaus was nearly complete. Unfortunately, disaster struck the next day beginning at 4 am. It started with a few cracking sounds which quickly intensified over the next couple of hours. Filchner wrote, "Then suddenly a racket erupted as if one hundred pieces of heavy artillery were firing in rapid succession". Captain Vahsel sounded the alarm and shouted,

"All the ice in the bay is moving and the stationhaus-berg has begun to rotate!" Tons of ice had broken loose from the edge of the ice shelf with new cracks and rifts opening in every direction Filchner looked. Even worse, the nearly completed camp was drifting northwards towards open water. Along with their berg, tremendous masses of ice as big as 18 miles long were moving in unison with them. It was clear at this point that the DEUTSCHLAND was in serious danger of being crushed in the ice as the camp, along with some of the men, slowly drifted out to sea.

Unloading supplies on the ice shelf at Vahsel Bay

Filchner reasoned that the disaster occurred due to a spring tide, coupled with a sharp drop in barometric pressure. It was later determined that the water level surged about ten feet with more than 17.5 billion cubic feet of ice breaking free. The next two days were spent feverishly dismantling their winter camp. The DEUTSCHLAND remained at a safe distance while lifeboats were used to haul the materials and animals back to the ship. Enough of the building material could be saved to construct their new home but one dog was left behind as it refused to be caught. Filchner left a note with the discarded supplies which described the reason for abandonment. The iceberg's original position was 77°45'S, 34°34'W and, as Filchner wrote, "A trail of heavy ice followed it, [so] it was impossible for us to return to Prince Regent Luitpold Land".

The DEUTSCHLAND drifted for the next few days as Filchner waited for improving weather conditions. Finally a landing was made on the continental ice where the men built two large depots some 330 feet above sea level. The depots were covered with ice and marked with black flags and poles as Filchners' plans were now to retreat to South Georgia for the winter. They would return in the spring with additional provisions and try a second time to complete their transcontinental journey. But it was already early March and soon the fog set in, along with sub-zero temperatures, sealing their fate as the sea froze over at a torrid pace. Filchner wrote, "The devil himself has sealed our fate". The DEUTSCHLAND was completely frozen in by March 6. Stuck in the grips of the pack ice, she slowly drifted out into the Weddell Sea.

To break the monotony of the long winter ahead, Filchner promoted activities and duties as tents and small cabins were built on the ice and scientific equipment installed. Additionally, all the rooms in the ship were wired for electric lighting "to cut down the polar night to a minimum". As for entertainment, sporting activities were held regularly on deck and on the ice, along with horseback riding. Filchner himself could not take part in most of the physical activities as earlier he had fallen from a mast and bruised a few ribs. But by mid-June he was feeling well enough to lead a short, but dangerous, journey over the ice in search of Morrell's Land, or New South Greenland. The American sealer Benjamin Morrell thought he had seen land in 1823 only 37 miles east from where the DEUTSCHLAND was trapped. Filchner, together with officers Kling and Konig, left the ship on June 23 aboard two sledges, each drawn by eight dogs, with provisions for three weeks.

 Filchner & Kling scan for New South Greenland Travelling was far more difficult than they'd ever imagined. Daylight lasted only two to three hours each day as the sun set around 2 pm. On some days they made less than four miles while their best was fifteen. All the men suffered from frostbite as the temperatures plunged to -31°F. Filchner wrote in his diary, "at night we were shivering in competition in our flimsy tent". Simple tasks took hours because of the cold temperatures. The scientific instruments froze over the moment they

were removed from their containers. As a result, the instruments had to be thawed out after a short time. As Filchner described it, "To take a sighting we needed two hours rather than the usual ten minutes". When they reached 70°32'S, 43°45'W, they had come 31 miles but none of the land reported by Morrell could be seen. They dropped a lead weight through a hole in the ice and when it had reached 5248 feet, the line broke. It was clear to them that what Morrell had seen was a in fact a mirage. The return journey was even more dangerous than the one encountered on their way out. Large cracks had opened in the ice which meant a number of detours had to be negotiated. Some areas had frozen over with fresh ice so thin that the men were in constant danger of falling through.

Despite frozen instruments, Kling's navigational skills were uncompromised as only eight days after leaving the ship, on June 30, Filchner and his men spotted the masts of the DEUTSCHLAND. While they were away, the ship had drifted 38 miles. The ship had to send out the lifeboats to pick up the men as a wide lead of thin ice had separated them from the ship.

The next two weeks saw the Antarctic winter come to an end. On August 8 Captain Vahsel died from a prior illness. As a result, Kling took over the ship. By the end of September the DEUTSCHLAND was surrounded by huge stretches of open water. The boilers were fired up and the ship prepared for any chance of a breakout. All the animals, huts and scientific equipment were back on board but it would be another three weeks before the DEUTSCHLAND would break free. Filchner recorded in the ship's log that their position was 63°37'S, 36°34'W, having "drifted over 10° in latitude". On December 19, 1912, they reached South Georgia.

 The DEUTSCHLAND

The DEUTSCHLAND EXPEDITION failed in its attempt to make a trans-Antarctic crossing, but, as Otto Nordenskjöld later pointed out in a preface to Filchner's book, his discoveries of the Luitpold Coast and the Filchner Ice Shelf were important geographical finds. As well, the existence of Morrell Land was proven to be otherwise.

After her return, the DEUTSCHLAND was subsequently sold to Austria. Filchner himself was invited to take part in another expedition but he felt "for the time being I had had enough of 'Antarctic Doings'. Moreover, many experiences had convinced me that truly great successes in the polar ice are granted only to members of those nations where polar research has tradition, namely the Scandinavians, the Russians, the British and the Canadians. I decided to return to my original field of work: Central and East Asia". After World War I Filchner made a number of trips to Nepal, where he carried out a survey in 1939, and to Tibet. He spent the years surrounding World War II in India where he never made it a secret concerning his anti-Nazi feelings. On May 7, 1957, Wilhelm Filchner died in Zurich. He was 80 years old.

Nobu Shirase1861-1946

Born in 1861, Nobu Shirase's first exposure to exploration came on an expedition to the Karil Islands, north of Japan, in 1893. He was an unknown lieutenant in the army when his struggles to organize a Japanese expedition to Antarctica began. Fighting both government and public ridicule, success only arrived when the support of Count Okuma, a nobleman and former Premier of Japan, was gained. Fortunately his financial needs were modest as the public grudgingly donated the necessary funds. When Japan's first expedition to the Antarctic sailed from Tokyo on December 1, 1910, only a handful of students watched the departure. Their vessel, the KAINAN MARU, was only 100 feet in length. The ship arrived at Wellington, New Zealand on February 7, 1911 and four days later departed for the Antarctic. Poor weather was experienced on the entire trip south with their first encounter of icebergs coming on February 26. Clawing their way south through the drifting bergs, the coast of Victoria Land was finally sighted on March 6. Conditions were still so poor that a landing was simply impossible. They sailed on through the Ross Sea towards Coulman Island only to find the weather worse than what they had left. Snow fell continuously, storms pounded them and soon they found themselves surrounded by a heavy ice pack. It was impossible to go further so Shirase ordered the depressed crew to turn the ship northward for Australia. They arrived at the harbor in Sydney on May 1, 1911 and were immediately greeted with suspicion and hostility. Accommodations were not forthcoming. It was left to a resident of upscale Vaucluse to grant them free use of part of his garden to erect their prefabricated hut. Captain Nomura and several members of the crew returned to Japan in an attempt to raise additional funds while the rest of the expedition remained behind, with little money and food, living a life close to that of a beggar.

Shirase expressed his anger with the hostility of the local newspapers when he sadly wrote, "The New Zealand press viewed our attempt with ridicule. The New Zealand Times was particularly poignant in its comments upon us. It remarked that we were a crew of gorillas sailing about in a miserable whaler, and that the polar regions were no place for such beasts of the forest as we. The zoological classification of us was perhaps to be taken figuratively, but many islanders interpreted it literally, because crowds of people came to our tents daily to observe the 'sporty gorillas' misguided with the crazy notion of conquering the South Pole". A former member of Ernest Shackleton's 1907 expedition came to the rescue. Professor Edgeworth David, from the University of Sydney, learned of Shirase's misfortune and his enthusiastic involvement did much to reassure the Australian public.

Nobu Shirase had originally intended to reach the South Pole but it was clear to him that he was now too far behind the other expeditions led by Roald Amundsen and Robert Scott. The second attempt at landfall on the Antarctic mainland began from Sydney Harbor on November 19, 1911. Now that the quest for the Pole was out of the question, attention was turned towards completion of scientific work and exploration at King Edward VII Land. After celebrating New Year's Day with a traditional banquet, they reached the Ross Ice Shelf on January 16, 1912. A party was sent ashore at a spot they named Kainan Bay but the ice was filled with so many crevasses that the safety of the men would be in constant jeopardy. The party came back on board and the KAINAN MARU headed off to the west. Before long the men were startled to see another ship dead ahead. At first they thought it might be a pirate but were subsequently reassured to learn that it was Amundsen's FRAM, which was waiting for Amundsen's return from the Pole. Visits were exchanged but language difficulties prevented any serious discussion.

Shirase was now faced with the task of getting his party to the top of the ice shelf, which was 300 feet high at the place where the KAINAN MARU was moored. "We were resolved to scale the so-called insurmountable barrier or die", wrote Shirase. Some 60 hours later, after cutting a zig zag path up the nearly perpendicular slope, the first men stood at the top. A small party was sent ashore to investigate the ice and when they returned with encouraging reports Shirase decided to make it the starting point of his so-called Dash Patrol. The Dash Patrol consisted of seven men, two of which would remain at the edge of the ice shelf as a base camp while the

other five would make a dash to the south on sledges pulled by dogs. As it turned out, it was anything but a dash. On the first day blizzard conditions forced them to make camp after only eight miles. It would be two days later before the "dash" resumed but progress was again very slow since each dog had to pull 57 pounds. They struggled on, through terrible conditions, until January 28; they had covered 160 miles. The men stuck a Japanese flag, on a bamboo pole, into the ice and saluted the Empire with a threefold Banzai before burying a copper case containing a record of their journey. At this time Shirase made the wise decision to turn back for the ship.

While Shirase was off with the Dash Patrol, the KAINAN MARU had left the Bay of Whales to drop a shore party at Biscoe Bay in King Edward VII Land. The men were able to climb a 150-foot ice slope and go on to reach the foot of the Alexandra Range, which until then had not been seen at close range. A large crevasse prevented them from reaching the summit of the mountains but a memorial board was erected to commemorate the journey. After the men returned, the KAINAN MARU made her way back to the Bay of Whales. The wind was against her and it was not until February 2 that she could enter the bay. With considerable difficulty the Dash Patrol was taken on board and the ship made ready for her trip to the north. The ship made one more calling at Wellington and reached Yokohama on June 20, 1912. The expedition had sailed over 30,000 miles since leaving Japan and despite not reaching the Pole, they had achieved all their other goals after departing from Australia. They may have left in a silent departure, but their welcome in Yokohama was a tremendous reception. Nobu Shirase died in 1946.

Hubert Wilkins1888-1958

 

Sir Hubert Wilkins Born at Mount Bryan East, South Australia, on October 31, 1888, Hubert Wilkins was the thirteenth child born to a South Australian sheep-farming family. As a young student, Hubert studied engineering part-time at the School of Mines in Adelaide, however his passion was photography and cinematography. An official biography would list his career as war correspondent, polar explorer, naturalist, geographer, climatologist, aviator, author, balloonist, war hero, reporter, secret agent, submariner and navigator. This was an extraordinary man.

In 1908 Wilkins stowed away on a ship from which he later abandoned in Algiers. The next thing he knew, he found himself in a gang of criminals involved with gun-running, kidnapping, drug dealing and spying. At 24, Wilkins was hired by the Gaumont Film Company to join the Turkish side of the Turko-Bulgarian War of 1912 and shoot footage of the war.

In 1913, Wilkins became second in command of Vilhjalmur Stefansson's expedition to the Canadian Arctic. He went on to learn how to fly and in 1917 Wilkins returned to his homeland of Australia and joined the Australian Flying Corps at the rank of lieutenant. Although an aviator, his primary duty was to photograph the gruesome fighting in the field. His superior officer was none other than Captain Frank Hurley, the famous photographer of Mawson's and Shackleton's Antarctic expeditions. Wilkins was presented with the Military Cross for his efforts to rescue wounded soldiers in the Third Battle of Ypres, where at Passchendaele allied forces suffered a quarter million casualties. He received a Bar for his Military Cross for temporarily leading a

company of American soldiers, whose officers had been killed in action. Australian General Monash described him as "the bravest man I have ever seen".

Once the war ended, Wilkins turned his attention once again to aviation. He entered the England -- Australia Air Race of 1919 only to crash into a fence at a lunatic asylum in Crete. He went on to Russia for more photographic work where he reported on the upheaval and famine inside the country which was still in the grips of the great revolution of 1917.

Oddly, Wilkins also earned a good reputation as a naturalist and ornithologist. In 1923-24 the British Museum sent him to North Australia to collect rare native fauna and report on Aboriginal tribal life. However, the time spent with Hurley only peaked his interest in an expedition to the Antarctic where he felt a combination of the airplane with aerial photography could lead to extensive exploration and discovery. In 1925, Wilkins proposed the Australasian Polar Pacific Expedition to fly from the Ross Sea across King Edward VII Land to Graham Land. The South Australian branch of the Royal Geographic Society attempted to raise funds for the expedition but the money was not forthcoming. In order to gain financial support for his Antarctic adventure, Wilkins turned to the Arctic where together with his friend Ben Eielson, Arctic sojourns between 1925 and 1928 earned both of them a place in the aviator's Hall of Fame. Wilkins received the Patrons Medal of the Royal Geographical Society, the Morse Medal of the American Geographical Society and a knighthood from the King of England. Wilkins was introduced to Carl Ben Eielson by his former Arctic comrade Vilhjalmur Stefansson. Known to the Eskimos as "Brother to the Eagle", 26 year-old Eielson, a former pilot for the U.S. Army, was now an Alaskan bush pilot who flew through treacherous weather and topography on nearly a daily basis. Together with Wilkins, they survived numerous crashes and forced landings. Their Arctic adventures culminated in a great journey in April and May of 1928 when their tiny Lockheed Vega monoplane flew from Point Barrow, Alaska to the Norwegian island of Spitzbergen, in a flying time of 20 hours and 20 minutes across a distance of 2,500 miles, most of it above uncharted territory. Thus, they became aerial pioneers as the first to fly from the New World to the Old.

The First Wilkins-Hearst Antarctic Expedition

Wilkins was now ready to turn his attention to the Antarctic. Fame earned from the northern polar regions now propelled him into a position to finally accomplish his original dream of being the first to fly an airplane across the Antarctic continent. Hubert approached fellow Australian Major R.G. Casey, an official at the High Commission office in London, for financial backing from the government. Wilkins pointed out that his expedition could assist in accomplishing an early foothold on the Antarctic rim where meteorological reporting stations could subsequently be established. As much a supporter of Antarctic exploration as Casey was, his efforts nevertheless failed. Fortunately, the United States was interested. Endorsements came from the American Geographical Society and the Detroit Aviation Society.

Millionaire publisher William Randolph Hearst pledged $25,000 for the exclusive press and radio rights. With Australia dropping out of the expedition, Wilkins now prepared to concentrate his operation from Graham Land, or Palmer Peninsula as it was known to the Americans. From Deception Island in the South Shetlands, Wilkins hoped to launch a flight across the Weddell Sea in an attempt to possibly achieve a major flight, perhaps across Antarctica at a tangent to the coast. Wilkins intended to use the same plane which achieved Arctic fame, renamed the LOS ANGELES in honor of Hearst, but his backers insisted on a second plane for safety's sake. A second identical Vega of Jack Northrop's design was built and delivered at cost from the Lockheed Corporation.

The second plane was named the SAN FRANCISCO. The Vacuum Oil Company of Australia donated $10,000 worth of products. The N. Bugge Hektor Whaling Co. of Norway volunteered to take the expedition to the ice which suited Wilkins just fine . . . no expensive shore or winter bases would be needed! Heintz and Kaufman, of San Francisco, California, supplied a short wave radio for the aircraft. The radio served both as a long distance communication device and as a radio beacon (by holding down the morse key). Ben Eielson joined the expedition as chief pilot along with another experienced Arctic pilot by the name of Joe Crosson, who consequently was the first to fly an open-cockpit plane between Fairbanks and Point Barrow, Alaska.

Carl Ben Eielson Born at Mount Bryan East, South Australia, on October 31, 1888, Hubert Wilkins was the thirteenth child born to a South Australian sheep-farming family. As a young student, Hubert studied engineering part-time at the School of Mines in Adelaide, however his passion was photography and cinematography. An official biography would list his career as war correspondent, polar explorer, naturalist, geographer, climatologist, aviator, author, balloonist, war hero, reporter, secret agent, submariner and navigator. This was an extraordinary man.

In 1908 Wilkins stowed away on a ship from which he later abandoned in Algiers. The next thing he knew, he found himself in a gang of criminals involved with gun-running, kidnapping, drug dealing and spying. At 24, Wilkins was hired by the Gaumont Film Company to join the Turkish side of the Turko-Bulgarian War of 1912 and shoot footage of the war.

In 1913, Wilkins became second in command of Vilhjalmur Stefansson's expedition to the Canadian Arctic. He went on to learn how to fly and in 1917 Wilkins returned to his homeland of Australia and joined the Australian Flying Corps at the rank of lieutenant. Although an aviator, his primary duty was to photograph the gruesome fighting in the field. His superior officer was none other than Captain Frank Hurley, the famous photographer of Mawson's and Shackleton's Antarctic expeditions. Wilkins was presented with the Military Cross for his efforts to rescue wounded soldiers in the Third Battle of Ypres, where at Passchendaele allied forces suffered a quarter million casualties. He received a Bar for his Military Cross for temporarily leading a company of American soldiers, whose officers had been killed in

action. Australian General Monash described him as "the bravest man I have ever seen".

The WILKINS-HEARST EXPEDITION sailed from New York on September 22, 1928. In October they left Montevideo with the two aircraft aboard the whaling vessel HEKTORIA, which would serve the men with living quarters for the next five months. Before leaving their final port, in the Falkland Islands, Wilkins received a secret message from the British governor authorizing him to make territorial claims to the Falkland Islands Dependency, of which Deception Island was a part, on behalf of His Majesty's government. Obviously this did not sit well with Argentina who believed this region of Antarctica rightfully theirs.

On November 4 HEKTORIA tied up at the whaling station at Deception Island. The Norwegians immediately set to work to open the dormant factory while Wilkins, Eielson and the others began to ready the aircraft for the forthcoming flights. Wilkins planned to explore along the peninsula as far south as fuel and good weather could take him. His ultimate dream was to fly across the continent to the Ross Sea and the vicinity of Framheim, Amundsen's camp in his 1911 South Pole Expedition. This plan would require two planes with one used to refuel the other for the final push to the Great Ice Barrier. Meanwhile, rocks were cleared and holes filled on the sandy beach. On November 16 Eielson took the LOS ANGELES on a twenty minute flight. Hardly a noteworthy flight in Wilkins mind, but historical nevertheless as this was the first flight in Antarctica. Within a week, the twin Vega SAN FRANCISCO was ready to fly. Joe Crosson flew the aircraft on a few short excursions and on November 26 both planes took to the air: Eielson from the bay ice aboard LOS ANGELES and Crosson from the beach aboard SAN FRANCISCO. What a public relations stunt for the stunned Norwegians watching below! But a moment of terror befell Eielson as he came in for a landing. The wheels on the LOS ANGELES skidded on the bay ice and rushed Eielson and the plane dangerously towards the edge where the ice was thin and brittle. Sure enough, the horrified onlookers witnessed the aircraft nose over, splash into the water and sink up to its wings in the icy water. It took eighteen hours to haul the plane safely back to land.

December's unseasonably warm weather, once reaching 50°F, turned Deception Island into a prison for the aviators. Steam rose along the shoreline with no sign of thickening bay ice. Skis would be necessary equipment for the aircraft if there was any intention of exploring the interior. Without the thick bay ice, it would be impossible to lift off with skis attached. They tried to tow an aircraft to open water and fly away on floats, but a mass of sea birds surrounded the plane, flying into the propeller thus making a liftoff impossible. It would have to be wheels or nothing! Borrowing picks, shovels and wheelbarrows from the Norwegians, the men set to work clearing a long strip of beach from rocks, boulders and deep potholes. When all was said and done, Deception Island's airstrip was 2300 feet long and 40 feet wide with a couple of 20 degree bends. After the sinking of LOS ANGELES, SAN FRANCISCO was the preferred plane for the long flight ahead. They filled the fuel tanks with enough fuel

to carry them 1400 miles at a cruising speed of 125 MPH. Their emergency rations consisted of biscuits, pemmican, chocolate, nuts, raisins and malted milk tablets. In case of a forced landing, a block and tackle was loaded aboard to help pull the aircraft from danger, particularly from a crevasse. Crosson stayed behind to fly LOS ANGELES in case of an emergency.

At 8:20 a.m. on December 20, 1928, Wilkins and Eielson took to the air in SAN FRANCISCO signaling the start of a new chapter in the exploration of the last unknown continent from the air. Griffith Taylor, explorer with Robert Scott's TERRA NOVA EXPEDITION, said that "Just as 1841 and 1903 were wonderful years in Antarctic exploration, so 20th December 1928 was the most wonderful day, for in ten hours Sir Hubert Wilkins settled more problems and sketched more new coastlines than any other expedition had accomplished in West Antarctica".

The plan was to fly east across the Bransfield Strait and then head down the Antarctic Peninsula. Flying parallel to the mountains, Eielson took SAN FRANCISCO to an altitude of 6000 feet. The plateau behind the mountains continued to rise ever higher so the plane continued south. Wilkins made notes for the press and photographed the area with a hand-held Kodak 3A camera and two movie cameras. In a 20-minute period Wilkins sketched a map covering 40 miles knowing it would have taken three months to do the same had they been sledging. I "felt liberated," he said. "I had a tremendous sensation of power and freedom". They flew above Hughes Bay, crossed Gerlache Strait and neared the Danco Coast where Wilkins instructed Eielson to take the Vega up to 9000 feet and cross the peninsula from west to east. A magnificent scene of pure natural beauty unfolded before them prompting Wilkins to enter a note in his diary that "For the first time in history, new land was being discovered from the air". Beyond the Antarctic Circle at 67°S, they dropped closer to the surface and discovered a group of small, thin channels twisting their way deep between the mountains. Wilkins theory (seven years later disproved by fellow Australian explorer John Rymill) was that the peninsula was actually divided into three major islands, making it an archipelago rather than an extension of the mainland. Wilkins named one of the channels Casey Channel, after his friend R.G. Casey at the Australian High Commission in London. Another was named Stefansson Channel, after the man who had introduced him to the Arctic, and to these he added the Crane and Lurabee Channels. Wilkins freely named other distinguishable topography in honor of those who assisted with the expedition: Hearst Land, Mobiloil Bay, Scripps Island, Lockheed Mountains, and Cape Northrop after the Vega's designer. As a tribute to themselves, the map was also marked with the Wilkins Coast and Eielson Peninsula. Fighting gale-force winds, Wilkins opened the hatch and dropped the territorial proclamation on behalf of the British government. Mountains and plateau continued to loom southward, far into the horizon, but at 71°20'S, with their fuel gauge close to the half-full mark, Wilkins reluctantly ordered Eielson to turn the plane around. They

headed north across the Larsen Ice Shelf filled with satisfaction from exploring 1000 miles of previously unexplored Antarctic territory. Storm clouds hovered above and around the vicinity of Deception Island upon their return. With fuel running short, the clouds suddenly parted to give them a glimpse of the airstrip on Deception Island below. Eielson quickly put the SAN FRANCISCO into a steep descent to get through the low ceiling before the clouds once again closed in. In short order, SAN FRANCISCO was safely landed.

The account of Antarctica's first exploratory flight is best summed up in Wilkins final entry in his diary following the historical event: "We had left at 8:30 [sic] in the morning, had covered 1300 miles -- nearly a thousand of it over unknown territory -- and had returned in time to cover the plane with a storm hood, go to the HEKTORIA, bathe and dress and sit down at eight o'clock to dinner as usual in the comfort of the ship's wardroom".

Wilkins made one more exploratory flight before the aviation season came to an end. On January 10,1929, his aircraft flew 250 miles south, following part of December's route in order to confirm their earlier sightings. Both planes were soon dismantled and stored in a shed at the whaler's station. The men said farewell to the Norwegians and joined a patrolling British warship, HMS FLERUS, to take them back to Montevideo.

The Second Wilkins-Hearst Antarctic Expedition

The second WILKINS-HEARST EXPEDITION returned to Deception Island aboard the factory ship MELVILLE in late November 1929. The British government once again authorized Wilkins to make territorial claims on behalf of the Crown. To assist with the expedition, the Colonial Office voted £10,000 and the services of the Discovery Committee's research vessel, WILLIAM SCORESBY. This time their equipment included a boat with an outboard motor, a caterpillar tractor and a Baby Austin automobile fitted with eight wheels and chains. With one plane loaded aboard WILLIAM SCORESBY, they sailed just below the 67th parallel in an attempt to find a more suitable takeoff and landing area for the plane. However, floats were used and by this manner a number of successful flights were completed between December 1929 and January 1930. A trans-Antarctic venture was never within their grasp. The most rewarding flights were those of December 27-29 when an area then known as Charcot Land revealed itself to be a large island, over which Wilkins dropped a flag and document proclaiming the land in the name of King George V. The final flight came on February 1 and reached 73°S, in the vicinity of Peter I Island, but no new discoveries were made.

The pilots of the second expedition were both experienced Arctic pilots. Al Cheeseman and Parker D. Cramer came with Wilkins while Eielson remained behind, preferring to fly in

Arctic skies where he obtained a mail contract. As the team on Deception Island reorganized, a radio message arrived informing Wilkins that Eielson had taken off on a mercy mission to locate a stranded fur-trading vessel and had not returned. Shortly afterwards they heard that Joe Crosson had found the wreckage; Eielson had flown into a Siberian hillside that had been shrouded in fog. Eielson was dead and Wilkins said he felt the loss of a brother -- a "Brother to the Eagle".

Other Ventures

In a pause from his Antarctic expeditions of 1928-30, Wilkins purchased a surplus World War I submarine for one dollar, renamed it NAUTILUS, and attempted to cruise beneath the ice to the North Pole. The old ship broke down and the expedition failed which earned Wilkins some adverse publicity. Actually, he was just a man well ahead of his time. The submarine adventure, in 1931, represented his last individual and private expedition. From this point he accepted a post as manager to his friend and supporter, American millionaire Lincoln Ellsworth, in an Antarctic association which lasted until 1938. Lincoln Ellsworth went on to become the first to successfully fly across the Antarctic continent. In each of the three attempts, between 1933 until success on November 22, 1935, Hubert Wilkins was a participant.

Signed Cover from the NAUTILUS North Pole Adventure

 Wilkins last trip to Antarctica came in 1957 as a guest of OPERATION DEEPFREEZE . Wilkins always carried a miniature of the Australian flag in the cockpit of his airplane. He settled in the United States and worked in World War II for the American government, but never surrendered his Australian citizenship of which he was intensely proud. Wilkins died of a heart attack at the age of 70, in 1958. His body was cremated and the ashes taken on the nuclear submarine SKATE and scattered at the North Pole.

Richard E. Byrd1888-1957

Richard Evelyn Byrd was born into a famous Virginia family in 1888. He entered the United States Naval Academy at the age of 20 and was commissioned in 1912. His passion for the airplane began during World War I when he learned to fly. Subsequently Byrd became a flying instructor for the US Navy. Significant credit must be given Byrd for the present American interest in the south polar regions. His success as a naval aviator and transatlantic flier, along with the North Pole flyover, instilled enough confidence in the public to make them financially assist in the support of his first two Antarctic expeditions. From Byrd's first expedition in 1928-30 until 1955, eleven expeditions, excluding the WILKINS-HEARST EXPEDITION , left the United States for Antarctica. Byrd was a conspicuous player in six of them with four being sponsored by the United States government. His successful polar flights undoubtedly were due to his pioneering experimentation during World War I of flying over water out of sight of land. Navigation of these early seaplanes without visual landmarks as an aid prompted him to experiment with a number of scientific instruments ranging from drift indicators to bubble sextants. His reputation from this work was responsible for an appointment by the United States Navy to plan the flight navigation for the transatlantic flight in 1919 of the US Navy Flying Boats NC1, NC3, and NC4. The NC4 was the first plane to succeed in crossing the Atlantic, via Newfoundland and the Azores, having done so in May 1919. In 1926 he and Floyd Bennett made the first flight over the North Pole and upon their return to New York, Byrd was asked by Roald Amundsen what his next plans would be. His response? "Fly over the South Pole". At this point Amundsen had no reason to doubt him and the only advice offered was to "take a good plane, take plenty of dogs and only the best men". With this as his background, Richard E. Byrd began the modern American assault on Antarctica.

 

Byrd Antarctic Expedition I1928-1930

The Byrd Expedition was the first American expedition to explore Antarctica since the U. S. Exploring Expedition under Charles Wilkes in 1840. The expedition launched a revival of interest in the Antarctic for Americans, an area much in the public mind during the early 1800's.

The exploring expedition organized by Richard E. Byrd in 1928 may be considered the first of the mechanical age of exploration in Antarctica. The program was the first of its kind to utilize the airplane, aerial camera, snowmobile and massive communications resources. Although Sir Hubert Wilkins, on November 6, 1928, was the first to fly an airplane in Antarctica, he preceded Byrd by only ten weeks. (Byrd first flew on January 15, 1929). However, Byrd's flights, made with three planes (Ford monoplane, Fokker Universal and a Fairchild monoplane), were much more significant than Wilkins since they were made in higher latitudes and were tied in with ground surveys. Sir Douglas Mawson was the first to use radio in the Antarctic, and the whalers, RRS DISCOVERY, the Norwegian exploring ship NORVEGIA and Sir Wilkins had all been using radio in the Antarctic at the time the Byrd Expedition entered the field but Byrds use of communications equipment overshadowed that of the others as regular wireless communications were established with the outside world, as well as with all flights and field parties. As Byrd put it, "...this single department received more attention than any other, for our program called for the most elaborate system of communication ever proposed in a Continent where radio conditions are notoriously bad". Assistance was provided for the selection of equipment by the US Navy, the New York Times and several corporations. Five radio engineers were assigned to the communications team. Although very costly, a total of 24 transmitters and

31 receivers were supplied for the two expedition ships, the main base at Little America, three airplanes, three dog teams and two sub-bases. As for photography, Wilkins took photos from his plane while in flight, but they were taken with a hand-held camera. On the Byrd Expedition, Captain Ashley McKinley used a Fairchild K-3 for aerial mapping. It was the finest camera available at the time for this purpose and by present-day standards can still provide satisfactory results. Sir Ernest Shackleton, Robert Scott and Sir Douglas Mawson had all tried, with mixed success, to use automobiles for land transportation. Byrd had more success with a Ford snowmobile, but it too broke down only 75 miles from the base while hauling supplies.

 The CITY OF NEW YORK

On the strength of Roald Amundsen's recommendation, Byrd purchased the SAMSON at Tromsoe, Norway and ordered her sailed to New York. Built in 1882, the Norwegian sealer arrived in New York in woeful shape. New sails had to be made, her entire rigging had to be renewed, a new boiler installed, rotted planks in her hull replaced, and the whole ship, from stem to stern, refitted and strengthened. However, in every sense of the words she was built for the ice. Her hull was made of thick spruce and oak, of the finest growth. The ribs, also of oak, were placed very close together and sheathed with a layer of heavy planking both on the inside and out. Her sides were 34 inches thick, growing to 41 inches near the keel. Her one great drawback was her small auxiliary steam engine, scarcely able to generate 200 horsepower. Byrd felt fortunate that an engine built in 1882 could still run and since funds had been exhausted, the tiny engine would have to suffice. The ship was rated 515 tons, with a length of 170 feet and beam of 31 feet. Due to her slow speed, the CITY OF NEW YORK was the first to depart for the Antarctic. With 200 tons of material aboard and 33 people, the renamed CITY OF NEW YORK put out from Hoboken on August 25, 1928, and made for Dunedin, New Zealand, via the Panama Canal.

 The ELEANOR BOLLING The selection of the CHELSEA, later renamed the ELEANOR BOLLING , was a choice for which Byrd received much criticism. She would be the first ship with a metal hull to risk a full-blown exploration venture into the ice pack of Antarctica. Despite the criticism, prior experience of the steel-hulled Norwegian whalers C.A. LARSEN and SIR JAMES CLARK ROSS, making seasonal passages to and from the Ross Sea without incident, only reassured Byrd. Besides, she was cheap, available and suitable for the job which Byrd had planned for her. Without aviation, need for a second ship would have been doubtful. She was not much larger than the CITY OF NEW YORK but she was a freighter capable of hauling 800 tons of cargo. Her top speed? Nine knots! She was put into drydock where she underwent extensive repairs, primarily in strengthening her hull against the inevitable blows from the ice pack. The cost of purchasing the two ships and outfitting them was approximately $285,000. The work was done, at cost, by William Todd at the Todd Ship Yard. Under the command of Captain Gustav Brown, the ELEANOR BOLLING put out from Norfolk, Virginia, on September 25, 1928, with 300 tons of supplies and 28 men. The dog drivers and 94 dogs with 40 tons of dog biscuit were taken aboard the SIR JAMES CLARK ROSS at Norfolk, Virginia. The greater speed of this whale ship meant less danger to the dogs while crossing the tropics. The aircraft, aviation personnel, gasoline, oil and 100 tons of supplies were also shipped out of Norfolk

on the C.A. LARSEN. Commander Byrd boarded the C.A. LARSEN at San Pedro, California, from where she departed on October 10, 1928.

 Ford tri-motor FLOYD BENNETT

The purchase of the airplanes came after months of thought and experimentation. A Ford tri-motor monoplane was selected for major transport and investigative operations in the Antarctic. A Cyclone engine was mounted in the nose. Charles L. Lawrance, president of the Wright Company, had developed the powerful 525 horsepower engine. The two outboard engines were the famous Wright J-5 used on the trans-Atlantic flight. They were nine-cylindered, air cooled and rated at 220 horsepower. This gave the plane a total of nearly 1,000 horsepower which allowed a top speed of 122 mph and an easy load capacity of 15,000 pounds. Two other airplanes were purchased as backups to the Ford as well as providing transportation for the scientists into the field. A Fokker Universal monoplane, with a 425 horsepower Pratt and Whitney Wasp engine, and a Fairchild folding-wing monoplane made the trip south. A fourth plane, manufactured by General Aircraft, was contemplated but the plane failed to reach the Antarctic.

The SIR JAMES CLARK ROSS was the first to arrive in New Zealand. The C.A. LARSEN arrived in Wellington on November 5, unloaded the men and supplies, and then embarked on a whaling mission. The ELEANOR BOLLING arrived at Dunedin on November 18 and soon left for Wellington to pick up the supplies left there by the C.A. LARSEN. The CITY OF NEW YORK didn't arrive at Dunedin until the 26th of November, after being at sea three months. At Dunedin, the cargo was reloaded so that if the CITY OF NEW YORK was the only ship to make it through the pack into the Bay of Whales, she would have enough supplies aboard to maintain a limited scientific expedition for one year. The Fairchild airplane was lashed to her deck. Heavily laden, the ELEANOR BOLLING and CITY OF NEW YORK left Dunedin for the Antarctic at 6 a.m. on December 2, 1928. There were a total of 29 men on board the CITY OF NEW YORK and 54 aboard the ELEANOR BOLLING.

The expedition experienced fine weather at the beginning. If the wind was right, the CITY OF NEW YORK could proceed under both sail and steam; when the wind died, the ELEANOR BOLLING would take her in tow. The first storm hit during the evening of December 6. The tow line broke but other than a torn sail on the CITY OF NEW YORK, no other serious damage occurred as the storm subsided the following day. The first iceberg was sighted on Sunday, December 9. Snow squalls and foggy weather was encountered the following day which made for difficult navigation. Scott Island was sighted the same day, after which the course was set due south until reaching the edge of the ice pack. The following day the C.A. LARSEN was sighted. By 11 a.m. the next morning some 90 tons of coal had been transferred in sacks from the ELEANOR BOLLING to the CITY OF NEW YORK. The ELEANOR BOLLING then steamed for Dunedin (arriving December 20) while the CITY OF NEW YORK stood by to be taken in tow by the C.A. LARSEN. On December 15 the leads opened sufficiently for Captain Nilsen to enter the pack in about 178° E. The struggles were great but the C.A. LARSEN finally broke through into the open water of the Ross Sea on December 23. At 2 p.m. the tow line was cast off and the CITY OF NEW YORK was now on her own. The edge of the Ross Ice Shelf was reached in about 177° W. on Christmas Day. Following the shelf eastward, the CITY OF NEW YORK reached the Bay of Whales on December 28.

Unfortunately, the Bay of Whales was nearly full of ice. The CITY OF NEW YORK found a place along the edge of the ice to tie up and once accomplished, Byrd, Balchen, Petersen, Vaughan and Waldon went ashore with two dog teams to locate a suitable place to build the base camp. After several days of exploration in the vicinity, a site was selected on top of the Ross Ice Shelf

on the east side of the bay, approximately eight miles from where the ship was tied up and four miles north of Amundsen's base camp, Framheim. On January 2 the unloading began and soon teams of men and dogs were hauling supplies over the ice to their new home, Little America. On a good day, each team made two round trips, totaling 30 miles until a total of 650 tons of stores and materials had been transferred. The CITY OF NEW YORK had successfully transported one airplane, 1200 gallons of gasoline, 75 tons of coal, 54 men, 80 dogs and enough food for 15 months. Two main buildings were constructed at Little America along with several prefabricated buildings which were used for special purposes. The primary building was used for a library, hospital, radio laboratory and housing quarters for the physician, geologist, meteorologist and physicist. Another building, built from boxes and crates, served as the machine shop while a third building was used for the mess hall, bunk house and photographic laboratory. A magnetic observatory and weather station was also built. The radio storeroom and aviation workshop were also built from boxes while other rooms were simply carved out of the snow and roofed with tarpaulins. As a prevention against fire, all main structures were built with some distance between them and connected by a series of snow tunnels.

After leaving the CITY OF NEW YORK at the edge of the ice pack on December 11, the ELEANOR BOLLING sailed for and arrived at Dunedin on December 20 where she promptly took on a second cargo, departing on January 14 for the return trip to the Bay of Whales. She arrived at the bay on January 27 with two airplanes, additional dogs and 7500 gallons of gasoline. The ice in the bay continued to break up which forced both ships, on January 29, to move and two days later a large piece of shelf ice broke off and nearly capsized the ELEANOR BOLLING. The ELEANOR BOLLING was unloaded in little more than five days and on February 2 she departed for New Zealand, arriving in Dunedin on February 16. Meanwhile, the CITY OF NEW YORK continued to battle the ice conditions. Forced from her moorings time and time again, Byrd finally cruised her eastward to the vicinity of Edward VII Land but was again stopped by the pack ice. Abandoning any further attempts to tie up, the CITY OF NEW YORK departed on February 22 for New Zealand. Captain Nilsen of the C.A. LARSEN met the expedition ship on February 28 and transferred 90 tons of coal to her. Meanwhile, the ice conditions were so poor that Byrd radioed orders to the ELEANOR BOLLING, which was returning to the Bay of Whales with a third load of cargo, to wait at the edge of the ice pack for the CITY OF NEW YORK and return with her to New Zealand.

The Fairchild airplane had been unloaded on January 14 and assembled the following day after which seven short flights took place. Byrd, with Bernt Balchen as pilot and Harold June as radioman, left on January 27 for a longer flight eastward to the Alexandra Mountains, which had been discovered in 1902 by Robert F. Scott. They flew in fine weather and soon spotted the two inlets east of the Bay of Whales, Kainan Bay and Okuma Bay, that had been named after Nobu Shirase's Japanese expedition in 1911-12. They flew to the Scott Nunataks and Alexandra Mountains and then were forced south due to intermittent snow showers. Suddenly, at an altitude of 4,000 feet, a new mountain range came into view which Byrd named the Rockefeller Mountains. Running short on fuel, the men turned back for Little America and arrived having completed a five-hour flight. On February 18, Byrd and Balchen took off in the Fokker while June and Harold Parker left in the Fairchild on another flight to the east. Byrd's course took him east to the Rockefeller Mountains and then south for 100 miles further than his previous mission. High land appeared in the distance but once again they were forced to turn back to Little America. When they had landed, permission was given to McKinley to make a photographic flight to the Rockefeller Mountains. He too saw the other mountains east of the Rockefellers. In the afternoon of March 7 Gould, Balchen and June flew out of Little America aboard the Fokker for the Rockefeller Mountains. Two hours and ten minutes later they arrived and landed at the southern extremity of the range. Over the next few days extensive survey work was accomplished. By March 13 they were able to finish a triangulation survey and collect a few geological specimens but the following day turned tragic as high winds overwhelmed them. They struggled to save the plane but a huge gust of wind in the evening ripped the plane from its moorings blowing it airborne for half a mile before smashing it to pieces on the ice.

By March 18 the weather had cleared enough for Byrd, Dean Smith and Malcolm Hanson to fly out in the Fairchild to look for the lost men. Once the crash site was located,

the Fairchild landed, picked up Balchen and June, and returned to Little America. Meanwhile, Byrd and Hanson stayed back with Gould until the following day when a second rescue mission ferried the remaining men back to Little America.

Once the geological party had been rescued from the base of the Rockefeller Mountains, the planes were hangered in blocks of ice for the winter. While the geological party had been out at the Rockefeller Mountains, four dog teams layed depots of supplies, gaining valuable trail experience. Between March 7 and 13 some 1,350 pounds of supplies, in three depots marked with flags and snow cairns, had been successfully stowed for the winter. This would only be the start to a more aggressive campaign the following spring. On April 19 the sun set and 42 men settled in at Little America for the winter. The little city was buzzing with activity as equipment was prepared for the summer flights and sledging. Frank Davis took daily magnetic observations, William Haines and Henry Harrison took daily meteorological observations and the radio operators kept regular schedules with the outside world. Between January 16, 1929 and February 5, 1930, a total of 414 balloon observations were taken.

The lowest temperature recorded at Little America was -72.2°F on July 28. However, according to Harrison, "...a far more severe condition than this prevailed in July when a combination of a 25-mile wind and a temperature of -64° was experienced", creating a wind-chilled equivalent -2800°F. Subzero temperatures were recorded every month throughout the winter at Little America with the highest temperature being 17°F on August 19. The sun came up on the horizon for the first time on August 23.

Geological investigation of the Queen Maud Mountains would be a primary effort as spring arrived. This would require significant depots layed across the Ross Ice Shelf. Five teams started out from Little America on Sunday, October 13, with 1,600 pounds of supplies. The dogs soon tired from pulling in soft, dry snow so the loaded sledges were abandoned at this point and the entire team jumped on an empty sled and returned to Little America to wait for more favorable conditions. On October 15 a supporting party of four, led by Arthur Walden, started on a southern journey. Joining them were the geological party and Peterson, who went along to test the radio equipment. They picked up the loaded sledges that had been left a few days before and proceeded on to 20-mile depot. Upon arrival the geological party cached their supplies and along with Peterson returned to Little America. Meanwhile, the supporting party headed south with two sledges carrying a total of 800 pounds. Depots were built and supplied every 50 miles. On November 1 the last depot (Depot #4) was laid at 81° 45'S, 220 miles from Little America. At this point the men turned for Little America and arrived back at base camp on November 8. After returning from the 20-mile depot, the geological party on Sunday, October 20, started hauling supplies again to the depots out on the Ross Ice Shelf. By October 25 they had reached the 100-mile depot where they cached their supplies and prepared for the return journey. The return was uneventful with the crew arriving at Little America on October 29. Meanwhile, on October 25 Strom, Black and Feury set off in the Ford snowmobile, pulling three sledges loaded with supplies. The men had to abandon the vehicle when it broke down 75 miles south of base camp. Walking back to Little America, the men arrived on November 5. Finally, on the same day, the geological party departed for the Queen Maud Mountains. The party consisted of Gould, who was the leader, Vaughan, Crockett, Thorne, Goodale and O'Brien.

While the sledge parties were busy with depot-laying, the aviation crew were likewise busy digging out the planes and preparing them for exploratory flights. On November 18 with Dean Smith as pilot, Commander Byrd, Harold June and Captain McKinley took off in the Ford tri-motor, the FLOYD BENNETT, on a base-laying flight to the edge of the Queen Maud Mountains,

440 miles distant. About 200 miles out the men spotted the geological party struggling along so they swooped low and dropped mail and additional equipment to them before heading off for the mountain range. They landed at the foot of the Liv Glacier where, leaving the engines running, they deposited gasoline, oil and 350 pounds of food along with a pressure cooker and trail equipment. They were soon back in the air heading for Little America. About 100 miles south of Little America, on the edge of the worst crevassed area, the plane was forced to land as a leak had developed and they'd run out of fuel. The emergency radio failed to work but fortunately Balchen and Petersen flew out in the Fairchild, suspecting they had run out of fuel, and quickly located them on the ice below. They landed and fuel was loaded aboard but, unfortunately, the engines were too cold to start. Besides, 100 gallons of fuel was not enough to get the plane back to Little America. The Fairchild returned to Little America, loaded additional fuel and brought it out the following day. With help from the booster on the Fairchild, the engines on the Ford tri-motor were started and together both planes arrived back at Little America about midnight.

At 3:29 p.m., on November 28,1929, the FLOYD BENNETT took off from Little America on its historic first-flight over the South Pole. With Byrd as navigator, Harold June as co-pilot and radio operator and McKinley as aerial photographer, the heavily loaded plane proceeded to climb towards the Queen Maud Mountains. For purposes of navigation, magnetic compasses were useless so close to the South Magnetic Pole. Thus, reliance was solely on the sun compass. Balchen flew south on the meridian of 163°45'W and when they reached 85°S they scanned the horizon, in vain, for Amundsen's Carmen Land. At 8:15 p.m. the geological party was spotted below, 100 miles from the base of the Queen Maud Mountains. A bag containing messages and photographs taken during the base-laying flight were dropped by parachute. The geological party radioed their position from which Byrd checked his navigation. From this point the plane began to gain altitude as it neared the glacier-filled passes of the Queen Maude Mountains. By 9:15 p.m. they had climbed to 9,000 feet but were still 2,000 feet too low to attain the Polar Plateau. As the plane ascended the Liv Glacier, empty tin containers of gasoline and 300 pounds of food were dumped out in order to reduce weight. For the next 30 minutes the FLOYD BENNETT struggled to gain the necessary altitude to clear the 11,000-foot pass between Mount Fridtjof Nansen and Mount Fisher at the head of the Liv Glacier. With only a few hundred yards to spare, the plane gained enough altitude to attain the Polar Plateau. As they flew over the Polar Plateau, a new mountain range, the Grosvenor Mountains, was viewed to the west and southwest. Looking back, they could identify the Mount Thorvald Nilsen massif, now called Nilsen Plateau. On the Polar Plateau the plane passed over a heavily crevassed area, the Devil's Ballroom, named by Amundsen. Observations at 12:30 a.m. showed them to be 50 miles from the Pole. Shortly after midnight on November 29, 1929, the FLOYD BENNETT flew over the South Pole. They flew a few miles beyond the Pole and then to the right and left to compensate for any possible navigational errors. Byrd dropped a small American flag and at 1:25 a.m. directed the plane for Little America. They descended down the Polar Plateau and the Axel Heiberg Glacier on the east side of Mount Fridtjof Nansen. At the foot of the glacier they flew along the front of the Queen Maud Mountains to the base of Amundsen Glacier. At this point a short fuel supply forced them to turn west for the gasoline that had been cached at the foot of the Liv Glacier on November 18. They landed beside the gasoline, took aboard 200 gallons and left 350 pounds of food for the geological party. Within an hour, they took off again and landed at Little America at 10:10 a.m. on November 29...they had been gone 18 hours and 41 minutes.

By the time the polar flight had been completed, the geological party still had some distance to go to reach the Queen Maud Mountains. On November 30 they managed 35 miles and that night camped at the foot of the Liv Glacier. Heavily crevassed folds in the ice prevented them from reaching the edge of Mount Fridtjof Nansen via the Liv Glacier. However, a smaller glacier on the north side of the mountain was accessible and subsequently allowed them to ascend. During the climb, Gould determined the low ragged mountains to be composed of "...an extensive complex of ancient gneisses, schists, and granites which later investigation have shown to be pre-Cambrian". Above this, a series of sedimentary rocks 7,000 feet thick was found. Extensive geological studies were conducted over the course of the next few weeks. On December 20 the party reached the mouth of a glacier which Gould named Leverett Glacier. Their easternmost camp was located a short time later at the base of a small mountain, properly named Supporting Party Mountain, on the north side of the foot of Leverett Glacier...their bearings were 85°25'17"S, 147°55'W. The next day, December 21, the men built a cairn on top of the mountain and

deposited a record of their visit and a claim, in the name of Commander Byrd, of all the land east of 150°W as part of Marie Byrd Land and territory of the United States. The geological party had now mapped 175 miles along the front of the Queen Maud Mountains and had been the first to set foot on Marie Byrd Land. On December 21 they turned for Little America and on Christmas Day discovered the cairn built by Roald Amundsen. Inside, Gould found a small tin containing a page from Amundsen's notebook on which he had written a short account of his journey to the South Pole. They took the page and continued on towards base camp. From December 26 to 30 they camped at Strom Camp, in front of Mount Fridtjof Nansen, as they made preparations for their final push to base camp. They left on December 30, sledging at night and camping during day, with as light a load as possible. Despite the heavily crevassed area south of Little America, base camp was reached without serious injury on January 19, 1930 after sledging 1500 miles in two-and-a-half months.

Meanwhile, after the successful polar flight plans were made for a second major flight of discovery. With favorable weather conditions, Byrd, Alton Parker, June and McKinley took off at 10:50 a.m. in the FLOYD BENNETT on December 5 heading northeast into the area Robert Scott had explored in 1902 called Edward VII Land. They flew along the edge of the Ross Ice Shelf to Okuma Bay and subsequently passed over the Scott Nunataks. Byrd could now see a great expansion of water extending southeast which he named Sulzberger Bay. They flew northeast across 35 miles of open water in the bay and at 1:13 p.m. changed course to a little east of north in order to follow what they believed to be coastline. At 1:48 p.m. they found themselves opposite the mouth of a large bay which extended considerably inland. Byrd named this Paul Block Bay and named the glacier which entered the bay for Balchen. The associated mountain range, with the glacier in its valley, was named the Edsel Ford Range. At this point they changed course again to the northeast and at 2:10 p.m. they turned south to fly across the mouth of Paul Block Bay. They were now at 150°W which was the extremity to which any prior explorers could have made discoveries. Byrd named the land, including the Edsel Ford Range, Marie Byrd Land in honor of his wife. On the trip back to Little America, they flew to the north of Sulzberger Bay to investigate the great ice island that appeared to be aground and surrounded by old sea ice. At 3:10 p.m. they flew across the open water of Sulzberger Bay and the large, grounded ice island. From the air it was obvious to Byrd that Scott's Edward VII Land was actually a peninsula between Sulzberger Bay and the Ross Sea. The plane now set a course to the southwest, passing near La Gorce Mountain at the southern end of the Alexandra Mountains. At 6:42 p.m., after nearly eight hours of flight, the FLOYD BENNETT landed safely at Little America. The accomplishments were great as many miles of previously unknown coastline and a new mountain range had been photographed for the first time.

The final flight was made on January 21 when Byrd, Smith, Peterson, June and McKinley took off in the FLOYD BENNETT and flew 100 miles west to Discovery Inlet, then south for 140 miles across the middle of the Ross Ice Shelf, and then returning to Little America. Meanwhile, the geological party concluded their investigations and ground survey of the Bay of Whales so that preparations could begin to close Little America. Radio reports were coming in from the whalers that the pack ice was unusually thick. The CITY OF NEW YORK left Dunedin for Little America on January 6, 1930. Fighting a fierce storm along the way, she made it to the edge of the ice pack on January 20 and rendezvoused with the whaler KOSMOS. The ELEANOR BOLLING left Dunedin on January 20 and reached the CITY OF NEW YORK on January 29. The CITY OF NEW YORK had used up so much of her coal while steaming around the edge of the ice pack waiting for the arrival of the ELEANOR BOLLING that Byrd instructed the ELEANOR BOLLING to return to Dunedin for more coal, which she did on January 31. While this was going on, the men at Little America were packing up their equipment in three different classes, each with a lower priority, in the event there would not be enough room for all the gear. McKinley was put in charge of transporting the equipment to the edge of the Bay of Whales where a camp was established in order to load the gear aboard as quickly as possible once the ship arrived. Byrd was fairly certain that only one ship would make it through so the planes were secured nearby where the wind would keep the snow swept away after they were left behind. On February 6 the CITY OF NEW YORK took on 50 tons of coal from the whaler SOUTHERN PRINCESS and immediately started her journey into the pack for Little America. Incredibly, it took 12 days to reach the men at the edge of the Bay of Whales. On February 8 a strong gale struck and lasted for 24 hours. On February 10 another storm hit with such ferocity that the ship was in danger of sinking as ice accumulated faster than the men could chip it off. She was blown 300 miles off

course, to the vicinity of Ross Island, over the four-day gale. It was 6:45 p.m. on November 18 before the CITY OF NEW YORK reached the Bay of Whales. She was loaded at night and cast off at 9:30 a.m. on February 19. By February 26 she was clear of the pack ice. She met up with the KOSMOS and ELEANOR BOLLING and transferred the dogs along with medical officer Dr. Haldor Barnes, from the ELEANOR BOLLING, and radio operator Howard Mason, who had been suffering from appendicitis. The ELEANOR BOLLING transferred a new supply of coal to the CITY OF NEW YORK and the two sailed together for Dunedin, arriving on March 10, 1930. The expedition reached New York on June 18, 1930.

Byrd Antarctic Expedition II1933-35

 

Many questions were left unanswered upon conclusion of Byrd's first Antarctic expedition and the Admiral was all too aware of the necessity for a quick return to the ice. Plans were soon made for a second expedition as many of the experienced men would still be available and polar interest in America was thriving. Despite declining interest in the region for many years, Americans were quick to resume that interest following the great successes of the First Byrd Expedition and the Wilkins-Hearst Expedition between 1928 and 1930. Daily newspaper and radio accounts, particularly of the South Polar flight and discovery of Marie Byrd Land, made Byrd's first expedition a topic of conversation throughout America. America was in the midst of a great economic depression in the early thirties, however the persuasions of the American public resulted in necessary resources and funding for a second assault on the ice. The Second Byrd Antarctic Expedition was covered as thoroughly in the media as the first but it was the radio programs, broadcast by the men from Little America which spilled into the living rooms of America, that sustained and encouraged American presence in the Antarctic during this expedition and the others that followed.

A number of "firsts" were accomplished during the Second Byrd Antarctic Expedition; it was the first time that automotive transportation proved to be a valuable asset. Results from the first seismic investigations in Antarctica provided the initial evidence of the extent to which the Ross Ice Shelf was aground or afloat. The first human voices were transmitted from Little America on February 1, 1934 and later a weekly broadcast was carried over the Columbia Broadcasting System in the United States. Additionally, this expedition marked the first time that cosmic ray and meteor observations were taken in such high southern latitudes. Although the First Byrd Antarctic Expedition was the beginning of the mechanical age in Antarctica, the Second Expedition took mechanical and electrical resources to a new level. Motor-driven generating plants provided Little America with electrical power, thereby allowing use of electrical power tools used in construction and maintenance of mechanical devices used at Little America as well as exercises in the field.

As with the first, the Second Byrd Antarctic Expedition was organized and financed by Rear Admiral Richard E. Byrd (USN, retired) with financial aid and supplies contributed by a number of private individuals, businesses, industrial firms, research institutes and government agencies. Byrd's original plans called for a departure in the fall of 1932, however lack of necessary funding and supplies required them to wait until the following year. Amazingly, $150,000 in cash was contributed while in the midst of the Great Depression. It came mostly with thousands of donors contributing small amounts but larger gifts were given by Edsel Ford, William Horlick, Thomas Watson, Col. Jacob Ruppert and the National Geographic Society. Additional funds were realized from the sale of newspaper rights, photographic privileges and advertising sold for the weekly radio broadcasts from Little America. Industrial and commercial firms donated all the fuel oil and gasoline and much of the equipment used on the expedition while nearly $100,000 worth of scientific instruments was lent by government agencies and universities. The flagship of the expedition was leased from the U.S. Shipping Board for one dollar a year. The 8257-ton steel cargo vessel PACIFIC FIR, used in the west coast lumber trade and then laid up at Staten Island with other surplus ships of World War I, was totally reconditioned and re-christened the JACOB RUPPERT. Needing a ship to ram through the ice pack, for a small sum Byrd was able to

purchase the barkentine BEAR from the city of Oakland, California. The old wooden ship was built in Greenock, Scotland, in 1874. The ship was used for ten years as a whaler and was then purchased by the U.S. Coast Guard for use in the rescue of the U.S. Arctic Expedition led by Lt. A. W. Greely. The ship became the property of the city of Oakland in 1928 and after Byrd had the ship reconditioned in Boston, the vessel was re-christened the BEAR OF OAKLAND. The 703-ton BEAR OF OAKLAND was 200 feet long, had a beam of 32 feet and a draft of 17 feet, 2 inches. Using her auxiliary steam power, she was capable of nine knots.

The JACOB RUPPERT The BEAR OF OAKLAND

The WILLIAM HORLICK

 

Questionable in Byrd's mind was the condition of the two airplanes left at Little America in 1930 upon conclusion of his first expedition. Thus, a new Curtis-Wright Condor was secured. The twin-engine long-range biplane, named the WILLIAM HORLICK, was equipped with skis and floats and was powered by a pair of supercharged Wright Cyclone engines, each capable of 725 horsepower. Specially designed fuel tanks were installed giving the plane a range of approximately 1300 miles with a full load of 19,000 pounds. Two smaller single-engine monoplanes, a Fokker and a Pilgrim, were lent to the expedition. Additionally, a Kellett autogyro was lent for use in high altitude and short-range reconnaissance flights.

Motorized transportation was supplied by a Cletrac tractor, two Ford snowmobiles and three Citroëns originally designed for desert work. The 40 horsepower Citroëns had the front wheels replaced with skis. Since motorized transportation still had not proven itself in the Antarctic, 153 sledge dogs were collected from Alaska to Labrador and taken to the ice.

Dr. Thomas Poulter, physicist, was chief of the scientific staff and second in command of the expedition. William Haines, chief meteorologist, was third in command while Harold June, chief pilot, was chief of staff and George Noville executive officer. The wintering party of 1934 consisted of 56 men which included five pilots, three physicists, two geologists, a geophysicist, two meteorologists, three biologists, four radio operators, two navigators, an aerial photographer, a surveyor, a physician, two carpenters, an artist, a newspaper correspondent and two Paramount News cameramen. The rest were mechanics and dog / tractor drivers. A total of 45 officers and crew made the outbound voyage on the JACOB RUPPERT in 1933 and 33 assisted with the homeward voyage in 1935. Both voyages were under the direction of Commodore Hjalmar Fridtjof Gjertsen, an ice pilot with the Norwegian Navy. On the outbound voyage, the master of the JJACOB RUPPERT was Lt. (jg) W.F. Verleger, USNR. He was

replaced on the homeward voyage by S.D. Rose, who had served as first officer on the BEAR OF OAKLAND. The BEAR OF OAKLAND was under the command of Lt. (jg) Robert A. English, USN, with Bendik Johansen as sailing master and ice pilot. Of all the men involved with Byrd II, 18 had participated in the First Byrd Antarctic Expedition.

There were four primary objectives concerning geographical exploration: the delineation of as much as possible of the coastline of Marie Byrd Land; additional research in the Ford Ranges; determination of an ice-filled strait connecting the Ross Sea with the Weddell Sea; determination of the extent of the Queen Maud Mountains beyond the Ross Ice Shelf. Meteorological observation was also an important part of the expedition with Byrd proposing the construction of a weather station as far inland as possible which would be maintained throughout the long winter night. The scientific program included proposals to measure the thickness of the Ross Ice Shelf and polar plateau, extensive biological investigation ranging from plankton to the seals in the Bay of Whales and surveying of the front of the Ross Ice Shelf to determine what changes had transpired since the last survey made by the TERRA NOVA EXPEDITION in 1911.

The BEAR OF OAKLAND embarked from Boston on September 25, 1933 since she was the slower of the two vessels. Unfortunately, the ship ran into a hurricane off the North Carolina coast and was damaged to an extent which required her to enter dry dock at Newport News. The JACOB RUPPERT left Boston on October 11, stopped at Newport News, and left for the Panama Canal eleven days later. Meanwhile, the BEAR OF OAKLAND finished her repairs and sailed south on November 1. After passing through the Panama Canal, the JACOB RUPPERT called at Easter Island on November 16 and reached Wellington, New Zealand on December 5. The ship's engines were overhauled and the WILLIAM HORLICK readied for flight. Another eighteen men were added to the crew before she set sail on December 12, 1933. Additionally, three stowaways were soon discovered. The ship reached the ice pack on December 20 and proceeded along the edge for the next three weeks. On December 21, at 10:53 a.m., Admiral Byrd, Harold June (pilot), William Bowlin (co-pilot), Carl Petersen (radio operator) and Joseph Pelter (aerial photographer) lifted off in the WILLIAM HORLICK on a successful four-hour preliminary test flight. Further flights and reconnaissance took place until eventually entering the Bay of Whales, where she was moored on January 17, 1934. The BEAR OF OAKLAND passed through the Panama Canal on November 17 and stopped for coal reserves at Tahiti on December 12. She arrived in Wellington on January 6, took on additional supplies, and then sailed for Dunedin where more stores were taken aboard. The BEAR OF OAKLAND sailed for Antarctica on January 19 and moored in the Bay of Whales at 10:30 p.m., January 30.

Admiral Byrd led a landing party to the site of Little America I on January 17 where they found the camp buried under a deep blanket of snow with only the radio towers, stove pipes and a few other protruding objects visible. The communication and lighting systems were still functioning and the stored food was still in preserved condition. Through great difficulties, the old camp was reestablished as Little America II. By the time the BEAR OF OAKLAND arrived on January 30, tremendous amounts of equipment, supplies and stores had been relayed inland. Sixteen teams of nine dogs each, along with the Citroën and Cletrac, ferried several hundred tons of supplies to Little America II. The Pilgrim monoplane hauled 24 tons of goods before she was grounded due to the landing gear exhibiting signs of strain. When the BEAR OF OAKLAND arrived, the third Citroën was quickly put to use. By February 4 both ships were unloaded. At 10:10 p.m. the next day, the JACOB RUPPERT left for Port

Chalmers, New Zealand, where she arrived on February 18. On the evening of February 6, the BEAR OF OAKLAND sailed out of the Bay of Whales with Lt. English setting a course for Cape Colbeck where an investigation for the possible existence of an archipelago would be attempted. Heavy pack ice had prohibited such exploration on Byrd's previous expedition in 1929.

Up to that time only two ships had penetrated the ice beyond Cape Colbeck, which had originally been discovered during Robert Falcon Scott's 1902 DISCOVERY EXPEDITION. In 1912, Lt. Nobu Shirase sailed the KAINAN MARU to 76°07'S, 151°20'W. It was a successful trip for Byrd as they passed the easting of both prior efforts. At 1:30 a.m., on February 9, they made their farthest easting at 75°06'S, 148°08'W, from where the northwesternmost peaks of the Ford Ranges were dimly visible to the southeast. Evidence was gathered to support the existence of a submarine ridge extending northwestward from Edward VII Peninsula. The BEAR OF OAKLAND arrived back at the Bay of Whales on February 15. A rendezvous was made with the DISCOVERY II on February 21 to receive another 21 tons of supplies and a replacement physician, Dr. Louis H. Potaka. She arrived back at the Bay of Whales on February 25 and the next day, at 8:35 a.m., the BEAR OF OAKLAND departed Antarctica, leaving behind a winter party of 56 men. The ship arrived in Dunedin on the afternoon of March 12, 1934 after a very difficult voyage.

Admiral Byrd became alarmed by a series of cracks developing in the vicinity of Little America II so an emergency cache of food, gasoline, tents and supplies were established on higher ground, named Retreat Camp, about a mile southeast of base camp. Over the course of the next few weeks, depots every 25 geographical miles were layed in preparation for the field season the following spring. Intense blizzards were fought until the final depot, 155-mile depot, was established on March 14. One of the objectives of the expedition was to establish an advanced weather base where three men would spend the Antarctic winter making daily meteorological observations. Originally, intentions were to establish the base on the Polar plateau or the foot of the Queen Maud Mountains. However, do to the difficult, prolonged unloading of stores and establishment of the base camp, time constraints required the Bolling Advance Base to be built at 100-mile depot. Tractors, sledges and aviation were all used as the men struggled to establish the base. The Pilgrim monoplane made three flights but the Fokker, BLUE BLADE, crashed on take-off and the weather closed in before the WILLIAM HORLICK could be made ready. Construction of the hut began on the morning of March 22 and at 11:55 a.m. Admiral Byrd was flown in by Bowlin and Bailey aboard the Pilgrim monoplane. Work on the site was under horrible conditions as temperatures plummeted to -60°F. Throughout the trips to and from Little America, the tractor party was plagued by water condensing and freezing in the fuel lines. They frequently stopped to disconnect the lines and blow the ice out. Fingers and hands suffered from the bitter cold with intense pain experienced by all. The dog teams left Advance Base for Little America II on March 25 and on March 28 the tractors departed, leaving Admiral Byrd alone to man the meteorological station for the winter. The prefabricated hut measured 9 feet by 13 feet and was 8 feet high. The structure was completely buried in snow by the time the tractor party pulled out. Only the bamboo poles used to support the radio antennae, the 12-foot anemometer pole and the instrument shelter protruded through the snow. Advance Base was located at 80°08'S, 163°57'W, 123 statute miles from Little America II.

Little America settled into a routine program as the sun set for the last time on April 19. Meteor observations, under Dr. Poulter, were conducted during the four months of darkness; the biologists, Dr. Perkins, Paul Siple, Alton Lindsey and J. M. Sterrett carried out their investigations of plankton, bacteria and the Weddell seals in the Bay of Whales; preparations were made for the spring campaign in the field. Meanwhile, Admiral Byrd took meteorological observations twice daily at Advance Base and maintained a radio schedule with Little America II three times a week. Once the sun set in April, Byrd also maintained a regular schedule of auroral observations. Unfortunately, Byrd was unaware of his impending carbon monoxide poisoning. Although aware of water condensing and freezing in the ventilator pipe, stovepipe and exhaust pipe of the engine which drove the radio generator, Byrd's precautions failed to maintain proper

ventilation within the hut and he gradually became more ill until finally collapsing during the radio schedule on May 31. He remained critically ill for more than a month as his recovery was impaired by the inability to keep himself warm and properly cared for. In spite of his weakness and subsequent relapses, meteorological observations were continually recorded. Although he tried to hide it, Byrd's health was obviously deteriorating. The unusual radio transmissions alerted the men back at base camp so an unscheduled journey to Advance Base was soon in the works. The first two attempts to reach Byrd ended in failure as darkness, snow and mechanical difficulties overcame them. Finally, Dr. Poulter, E. J. Demas and Amory Waite, aboard tractor No. 3, reached Advance Base just before midnight on August 10. Byrd's physical condition was too poor for the return journey. The men remained, making regular observations, until October 12 when Bowlin flew out in the Pilgrim and picked up Byrd and Poulter while the others returned in the tractor.

A number of geological and biological scientific programs were accomplished during the Second Byrd Antarctic Expedition. On September 27, Harold June, Ken Rawson, J. H. Von der Wall and Carl Peterson set out on tractor No. 1 pulling two sledges with 7600 pounds of cargo. On October 11 they sighted McKinley Peak and the Haines Mountains to the north. The next day the men climbed to the summit of McKinley Peak and determined, after making sun and star observations, that the mountain was approximately 37 miles west of its previously estimated position. The party arrived back at Little America on October 18 after completing a round trip of 525 statute miles. This had been the first time that exploration had been carried on to such an extent in Antarctica by means of mechanized land transport.

On October 14, the Marie Byrd Land party, made up of Paul Siple (biologist and leader), F. Alton Wade (geologist), Stevenson Corey and Olin Stancliff (dog drivers), set out from Little America II following the path of the previous tractor party. Six days were spent on McKinley Peak, under cruel weather conditions, examining the geology of the mountain. Additionally, magnetic observations were made. They continued on to the Haines Mountains for more geological investigations and later crossed the Hammond Glacier and camped at the base of Mount Woodward. November 20 was spent investigating Mount Woodward, the southernmost mountain in the Ford Ranges, where Siple found mosses. On November 21 they crossed the Boyd Glacier and camped at the foot of Mount Rea. The next day was spent studying the geology of Mount Rea and Mount Cooper. At this point the supply of dog food was running short so to cover as much ground as possible in a short period of time, the men split up into teams. On November 23, Siple and Corey left Mount Cooper, rounded Mount Rea and headed north to Saunders Mountain. By the end of the 24th, they were overlooking Crevasse Valley Glacier, a great outlet glacier. Inclement weather prohibited their crossing of the glacier until the 27th. They camped alongside the Chester Mountains and charted many of the surrounding mountains. On December 2 they reached their limit of the outward journey and abruptly turned around. While Siple and Corey were on their journey, Wade and Stancliff carried on geological observations in the vicinity of Saunders Mountain, Crevasse Valley Glacier and the Haines Mountains. The teams met up again at the Haines mountains and the Marie Byrd Land sledging party arrived back at Little America II at 3 p.m. on December 29 after 77 days of exploration covering 862 miles.

Extensive additional scientific programs were conducted by other members of the base camp party. A geological party of three men and two dog teams was to explore the Queen Maud Mountains to the east of Supporting Party Mountain at 85°27'S, 147°33'W, the easternmost point reached by the geological party of the First Byrd Antarctic Expedition. A geophysical party of four men with four dog teams expected to climb the Scott Glacier and determine the thickness of the Polar plateau icecap. The combined parties left Little America II on October 16. The geophysical party reached Advance Base on October 22 and the geological party a day and a half later. By October 31 both parties were at the edge of a belt of crevasses at 81°10'S, 161°05'W. After considerable obstacles were overcome, significant magnetic, geologic, and seismic investigations had been completed. From the top of the Rockefeller Plateau, Morgan calculated the glacial ice to be 1000 to 2000 feet thick. Where the surface elevations vary from 2000 to 3000 feet above sea level it was obvious that the greater part of the height of the plateau in this sector was due to ice. Exploratory flights were conducted by Byrd and the aviation group. On November 15 Byrd, June, Bowlin, Bailey, Rawson and Pelter took off in the Condor WILLIAM

HORLICK for an exploratory flight to the southeast in an attempt to close the gap of unexplored land between Supporting Party Mountain, at the base of the Queen Maud Mountains, and the eastern trail between Little America II and the Ford Ranges. Much new territory was photographed and on their way home, they flew over the Rockefeller Mountains where they spotted the wrecked Fokker plane abandoned in 1929. The flight lasted 6 hours and 43 minutes covering 777 miles. A number of other flights were made over the course of the next month and a half. As the exploratory flights were being made, Dr. Poulter carried on important scientific studies of the Ross Ice Shelf, a project which proved to be one of the major accomplishments of the Second Byrd Antarctic Expedition. A re-survey of the shelf (originally taken during the 1929 expedition) in the vicinity of the Bay of Whales showed that the portion of the ice shelf east of the bay was moving westward while the west of the bay was moving northward, the latter at a rate of 6.6 feet per day. Consequently, the bay has now been obliterated and replaced by a large bite in the ice shelf.

During the winter layover in New Zealand, both the BEAR OF OAKLAND and JACOB RUPPERT were reconditioned and loaded with coal. The BEAR OF OAKLAND left Dunedin on January 2; on board was Charles F. Anderson, U. S. Postal Inspector, to handle the cancellation of mail at Little America. On January 18 they entered Discovery Inlet and picked up the seismograph crew. The next morning they moored in the Bay of Whales. The JACOB RUPPERT left Port Chalmers on January 16 and arrived in the Bay of Whales on January 27. The men hustled to get the cargo loaded aboard but with the ice threatening the thin plates of the JACOB RUPPERT, ferrying was necessary between the two ships as the JACOB RUPPERT hove to out in the bay. This process continued until only the heavy tractors and planes remained at the edge of the bay. Too heavy for the BEAR OF OAKLAND, the JACOB RUPPERT slipped in long enough to haul aboard all but Citroën No.2, two snowmobiles and a small amount of various supplies. The two ships moved out of the Bay of Whales on the afternoon of February 5, 1935. On board, headed for the Ford Museum in Dearborn, MI, was the FLOYD BENNETT. . .the plane in which Byrd had flown to the Pole in 1929. Both ships stopped in Discovery Inlet long enough to pick up some penguins destined for American zoos and then, on February 7, the two ships departed for Dunedin. The BEAR OF OAKLAND docked at Dunedin on February 20.

Byrd Antarctic Expedition III1939-41

The United States Antarctic Service Expedition

By the late 1930's, officials of the United States government were becoming aware of the fact that interest in the Antarctic regions was gaining popular momentum among its citizenry due to the successful expeditions of Byrd. President Franklin D. Roosevelt took an active role in creating the United States Antarctic Service as he pushed for two separate Antarctic expeditions, one by Richard B. Black and Finn Ronne, and the other by Admiral Richard E. Byrd, to be coordinated to form the US ANTARCTIC SERVICE EXPEDITION. In November 1937, Dr. Ernest Gruening, Director of the Division of Territories and Island Possessions of the Department of the Interior, asked Richard Black, the Field Representative of the Division, to look into the vague requirements of the US Government for an official American expedition to the Antarctic. The UNITED STATES EXPLORING EXPEDITION 1838-42, led by Lt. Charles Wilkes, had been the last great adventure to the Antarctic with any direct involvement of the US Government. A statement was released by Black on May 5, 1938, dealing with the governments interest in Antarctica, along with plans for a small expedition to the Antarctic. The expedition plans, jointly proposed by Black and Ronne (both members of the BYRD SECOND ANTARCTIC EXPEDITION ) grabbed the attention of Dr. Gruening who in turn informed the Department of State and President Roosevelt.

As all this was going on, Byrd was in Boston with his associates making plans for a third expedition to the Antarctic. Like the first two expeditions, this one was to be privately funded. Late in 1938 Byrd became aware of the governments position and possible action when an official of the State Department approached him for a consultation on the subject. This meeting and subsequent planning was brought to

the attention of President Roosevelt. On January 7, 1939, a memorandum was sent by the President to the Acting Secretary of State, Sumner Welles, approving the plans developed by the Departments of State, War and Navy. The President suggested the Department of Interior should be involved in the planning along with continued consultation with Admiral Byrd and Lincoln Ellsworth regarding the estimated costs of such an expedition. Additionally, the President wanted the group to consider the feasibility of maintaining a party each season "at Little America and at the region South of the Cape of Good Hope".

Two important developments resulted from the President's January 7 memorandum. First, Admiral Byrd decided to cancel plans for his private expedition and join ranks with the government. With his extensive knowledge of the area, from this point forward he was accepted as the leader and was to be actively involved with the planning and organization of the expedition. Secondly, an interdepartmental committee was formed, which eventually became the Executive Committee of the United States Antarctic Service. On January 13, 1939, the Secretary of State asked the Secretaries of War, Navy, Treasury and Interior to appoint representatives to serve on an Antarctic Committee. On June 30, Congress passed an act authorizing Antarctic investigations and on July 7 the President himself wrote letters to the Secretaries urging them to designate the representatives. As a result, the original planning committee became what the President designated as the Executive Committee of the United States Antarctic Service. The four departments were represented throughout the life of the organization. Captain (later Rear Admiral) C. C. Hartigan and Mr. Hugh S. Cumming, Jr., represented the Navy and State Departments, respectively. Rear Admiral R. R. Waesche was later succeeded by Commander E. G. Rose as representative of the Coast Guard (Treasury). The Department of the Interior was represented in turn by Ernest Gruening, Mrs. Ruth Hampton, R. A. Kleindienst, Paul W. Gordon, Rupert Emerson and Guy J. Swope. Lieutenant Commander (later Commander) Robert A. English, USN, commander of the BEAR OF OAKLAND on the SECOND BYRD ANTARCTIC EXPEDITION, was appointed Executive Secretary. He was succeeded in 1942 by J. E. MacDonald, who had been an administrative assistant to Byrd. As Commanding Officer of the US ANTARCTIC SERVICE EXPEDITION 1939-41, Admiral Byrd was an ex-officio member of the Committee, having received his formal appointment from President Roosevelt on July 7.

Although a US Government sponsored expedition, additional support came from donations and gifts by private citizens, corporations and institutions. Although the Department of Interior was granted funding, it was woefully inadequate for an expedition of this size. Coordinated efforts by the other Departments filled the gap for funding of the equipment, services and supplies. Admiral Byrd donated many of the supplies which he had gathered for his own expedition, the largest item being the barkentine BEAR OF OAKLAND, which was leased by the Department of Navy for one dollar a year. Some of the private donors misunderstood the magnitude of the governments involvement and subsequently became disturbed by the lack of advertising concerning their contributions. Well in excess of 100 firms and individuals contributed money, supplies and equipment to the expedition, including tractors, food, clothing, instruments, tobacco and books. Charles R. Walgreen of Chicago and William Horlick of Racine, Wisconsin, contributed equipment and supplies for the USS BEAR, and the Kohler family of Kohler, Wisconsin, and George F. Getz and Justin W. Dart of Chicago supplied the Barkley-Grow seaplane carried aboard the USS BEAR.

 Byrd on the Barkley-Grow Two ships were used by the expedition. One was Admiral Byrd's old ship, the BEAR OF OAKLAND, which had been used on the SECOND BYRD ANTARCTIC EXPEDITION. The ship was reconditioned by the Navy and commissioned the USS BEAR for the expedition. The second ship, the USMS NORTH STAR, was a 1434-ton wooden ice ship built for the Bureau of Indian Affairs of the U.S. Department of the Interior in 1932. She was used each summer to haul supplies to Alaska. Since summer in Antarctica was winter in Alaska, the Department of Interior was able to lend the ship to the Antarctic Service without interrupting the Alaskan service. The expedition was supplied with four aircraft. The USS BEAR carried a twin-engine Barkley-Grow seaplane on the 1939-40 cruise in the Antarctic. Both East and West Base were supplied with twin-engine Curtiss-Wright Condor biplanes, which had been used extensively by the U.S. Marine Corps for five years. The fourth plane was a new, single-engine Beechcraft which was to be used in conjunction with the Snow Cruiser. The Snow Cruiser, designed by Dr. Thomas C. Poulter of the Second Byrd Antarctic Expedition, was built at the Pullman Company at a cost of $150,000, entirely funded by 70 cooperating

manufacturers and by the "Friends of the Research Foundation" of the Armour Institute of Chicago, where Dr. Poulter was scientific director. 

This motorized monster was 55 feet long and 20 feet wide, with sled runners attached to its bottom. With the wheels extended, it was 16 feet high. Inside the machine were sleeping quarters with four bunks, a scientific laboratory, a photographic laboratory, a radio room, a chart room and a galley. Twin 150-horsepower diesel engines were connected to generators which in turn supplied power for the 75-horsepower electric motor that drove each wheel. The tires were made of rubber and were 10 feet in diameter. When a downgrade was reached, the wheels could be retracted allowing the Snow Cruiser to toboggan down the incline. Incredibly, the machine was designed to cross crevasses up to 15 feet in width by raising the front wheels while the rear wheels powered the cruiser half way across the gap, followed by a retraction of the rear wheels and a lowering of the front which then pulled the machine the rest of the way. The single-engine Beechcraft monoplane was mounted on skis and designed to be carried on top of the Snow Cruiser for aerial reconnaissance and exploration within a radius of 300 miles. Enough food for a year could be stored inside, along with 2500 gallons of diesel fuel, enough for 5000 miles of travel, and 1000 gallons of aviation fuel. The Snow Cruiser was designed for a maximum speed of 30 miles per hour on a flat, hard surface. She could climb grades of 37%, turn in its own length and move sideways at a 25° angle.

A total of 125 men departed from the United States in the two ships of the United States Antarctic Service Expedition, or Byrd III. Captain Isak Lystad commanded the USMS NORTH STAR while Lieutenant Commander Richard H. Cruzen, USN, commanded the USS BEAR, with Bendik Johansen as ice pilot. Most of the men who made up the expedition were solicited from the military ranks, civilian agencies of government and from scientific institutions. A few volunteers were employed by the Department of the Interior for $10 per month, food and clothing included. A total of 59 men, divided initially into three groups, wintered over in Antarctica. Dr. F. Alton Wade, Senior Scientist and geologist, was in charge of the Snow Cruiser and the three other men assigned to it. When it broke down, as expected, it was parked at West Base and the four men joined ranks with the West Base Party of 29 men, led by Dr. Paul A. Siple. The East Base party of 26 men was led by Richard B. Black. Many of the men had extensive prior experience in the Antarctic with Byrd. Among them were Bendik Johansen and Paul Siple of both the First and Second Byrd Antarctic Expedition, while chief radio operator Clay W. Bailey, master mechanic Vernon D. Boyd, assistant mechanic Louis P. Colombo, and executive assistant Lieutenant Commander Isaac Schlossbach, USN (retired) had all been on the Second Byrd Antarctic Expedition. Black, the leader of East Base, dog driver Joseph D. Healy and transportation engineer Finn Ronne were also veterans of the Second Byrd Antarctic Expedition, as was Frederick G. Dustin, an aide to Admiral Byrd on board the USS BEAR. It is of significant importance to mention that many of the men involved with this expedition went on to participate in future exploration in the Antarctic. Finn Ronne led his own expedition in 1947-48 with Schlossback as captain of the expedition ship. Harry Darlington III, of East Base, and cook Sigmund Gutenko from West Base, were also members of the Ronne Expedition. In 1946-47, then-Rear Admiral Richard H. Cruzen was in command of Task Force 68 of the U.S. Navy Antarctic Development Project, more commonly known as OPERATION HIGHJUMP . Lieutenant George J. Dufek was navigator on the USS BEAR in 1939-40, but went on to command the Eastern Task Group of Operation High Jump. From 1956-59, Admiral Dufek was commander of "Operation Deep Freeze", Task Force 43, U.S. Naval Support Force, Antarctica, leading the United States participation in the International Geophysical Year. Finn Ronne and Carl Eklund, ornithologist at East Base, were eventual leaders of the U.S. bases during the first winter of the IGY (1957). Captain Richard B. Black was called back to active duty for "Operation Deep Freeze I" in 1955-56. West Base veterans James C. McCoy, Charles C. Shirley, Vernon D. Boyd, Murray A. Wiener, Jack E. Perkins, and Paul A. Siple were all active in OPERATION HIGHJUMP.

The objectives of the UNITED STATES ANTARCTIC SERVICE EXPEDITION 1939-41 were outlined in an order from President Roosevelt dated November 25, 1939. This order was received by Admiral Byrd at Balboa, Canal Zone, as he boarded the USMS NORTH STAR on November 30. The President wanted two bases to be established: East Base, in the vicinity of Charcot Island or Alexander I Land, or on Marguerite Bay if no accessible site could be found on either of the specified islands, and West Base, in the vicinity of

King Edward VII Land, but if this proved impossible, a site on the Bay of Whales at or near Little America was to be investigated.

Early on November 15, 1939, the USMS NORTH STAR sailed from Boston en route to Philadelphia, where two airplanes were taken aboard. On November 21 she sailed down Delaware Bay en route to the Panama Canal. The USS BEAR left Boston on November 22, calling at Norfolk on November 25 to take aboard one of the twin-engine airplanes. On November 26 she cleared the Virginia Capes en route to the Panama Canal. Admiral Byrd had stayed behind to clean up last minute operations and flew from Washington to the Canal Zone where he boarded the USMS NORTH STAR at Balboa on November 30. The USMS NORTH STAR then departed for New Zealand, stopping at Pitcairn Island on December 13 and 14, and at Easter Island on December 17. She arrived at Wellington, New Zealand, on December 27. The USMS NORTH STAR departed New Zealand for the Ross Sea on January 3, 1940, subsequently sailing into the Bay of Whales to establish West Base on January 12, 1940. After refueling at the Canal Zone, the USS BEAR sailed for the Bay of Whales on December 6, entering the bay on January 14, 1940. Working in two 12-hour shifts, the USS BEAR was unloaded in less than a week and by January 24 the USMS NORTH STAR was underway for Valparaiso, Chile, to pick up additional supplies, including a Navy twin-engine Curtiss-Wright Condor plane and prefabricated buildings. Meanwhile, the Bear, under the command of Byrd, worked its way eastward from the Ross Sea along the edge of the pack ice. A suitable site for East Base was not discovered until a reconnaissance flight by Byrd, Richard Black, pilot Ashley C. Snow and co-pilot / radioman Earl B. Perce on the afternoon of March 8. An island on the north side of Neny Bay, just north of Alexander Island and Marguerite Bay, became the home of East Base. The island was subsequently named Stonington Island. By this time the USS BEAR had been joined by the USMS NORTH STAR and by the evening of March 20, both ships had been unloaded. The following morning the two ships sailed for the United States. Both ships stopped at Punta Arenas, Chile, but from this point the ships separated as the USS BEAR sailed for Boston while the USMS NORTH STAR headed for Seattle to resume her regular cruise schedule to Alaska. Establishment of the base camps went fast and furious.

Meanwhile, great hopes had been held out for the Snow Cruiser but her failure was soon realized. If the Snow Cruiser had worked at all, it was within reason to assume the possibility of reaching the South Pole, particularly if a route could have been found toward the southeast from the Queen Maud Mountains. From the very beginning the Snow Cruiser was plagued by misfortune. As the 30-ton machine was being offloaded at the Bay of Whales, the ramp partly collapsed under its weight, and Dr. Poulter, who was at the controls, avoided disaster by instantly applying full power, causing the machine to make a crunching lunge onto the bay ice. In spite of the huge wheels, adequate traction could not be provided in the snow. The tires kept 12 square feet of rubber on the surface at all times but her weight was simply too great. She sank into the snow and her inadequately geared electric motors could not propel her forward at more than a snails pace. A week later she was still only half way up the slope from the bay ice to the top of the ice shelf. Finally, after prolonged effort, the machine made it to West Base, where she was put to rest in a makeshift shelter of snow blocks and canvas. The crew now joined forces with Dr. Paul A. Siple and the men of West Base.

As outlined by the President, the objectives of the expedition called for a broad scale of operations. The principal objective was "the delineation of the continental coast line between the meridians 72 degrees W., and 148 degrees W., and the consolidation of the geographical features of Hearst Land, James W. Ellsworth Land, and Marie Byrd Land". A second objective involved the delineation of the then-unknown west coast of the Weddell Sea between Cape Eielson and Luitpold Coast. In view of the broad scope of the objectives and the unpredictable circumstances that always arise in Antarctica, it is remarkable that most of the objectives set for them were met. Of significance was the establishment and occupation for a year of two separate bases 1600 miles apart by air and 2200 miles by sea. Flights by seaplane from the USS BEAR and by land based airplanes from Little America III resulted in approximately 700 miles of coastline being added to the map of Antarctica. These discoveries included the Hobbs Coast, the Walgreen Coast, the Thurston Peninsula (determined to be an island in 1960) and the Eights Coast. Reconnaissance flights revealed previously unknown parts of the Ross Ice Shelf. Gaps in the unexplored regions between the Beardmore and Liv Glaciers in the Queen Maud Mountains were also filled in. A sledge journey down the George VI Sound resulted in the discovery of its western outlet in addition to settling the issue once and for all that Alexander Island was indeed an island. Further aerial reconnaissance from East Base extended the coastline of Antarctica westward to about the 85th meridian, west, resulting in the discovery of the Bryan Coast and Carroll Inlet at its eastern border. The east coast of the Antarctic Peninsula was photographed from Trail Inlet and Three Slice Nunatak (approximately 68°S) to beyond Nantucket Inlet (74°35'S). A route was discovered across the Antarctic Peninsula from Stonington Island to the head of Trail Inlet. A sledge

party from East Base used this route to complete a ground survey of the east coast of the Antarctic Peninsula from Trail Inlet south to Hilton Inlet (71°57'S). A sledging party explored the Dyer Plateau, in the process establishing 11 control points and triangulating the position of 58 mountains. A sledging journey from West Base to the Fosdick Mountains was made to study the biology of the region and, as a result, significant biological and geological specimens and photographs were brought back. Detailed surveys were made at both East and West Base. The first high-altitude meteorological station in Antarctica was operated during November and December, 1940, on the summit of the Antarctic Peninsula east of Stonington Island. Observations were concluded in every conceivable area: seismic, cosmic ray, auroral, biological, tidal, magnetic and physiological to name a few. All in all, it was an extremely successful expedition.

With international tensions on the uprise, it was considered wise to evacuate the two bases rather than relieve the present personnel with new men who would continue to occupy the bases. To assist with the evacuation, the USS BEAR left Philadelphia on October 13, 1940, and the USMS NORTH STAR departed Seattle on December 11. The USS BEAR was the first to arrive at the Bay of Whales on January 11, 1941 with the USMS NORTH STAR close behind, arriving on January 24. It was hoped that one day this base would be reoccupied so much of the equipment and supplies was left behind as the two ships sailed from West Base on February 1. From the vicinity of Scott Island, the two ships sailed eastward for Marguerite Bay. By February 24 both ships were off Adelaide Island, northwest of East Base, but a thick ice pack prevented them from entering Marguerite Bay. To save fuel, the ships returned north, where they anchored in Andersen Harbor, in the Melchior Islands, in the center of Dallmann Bay. Further attempts were made to penetrate the ice but by the middle of March, they still had not succeeded. The season was getting late so it was decided to evacuate the base by air. Fortunately the Condor had been repaired and test-flown after the accident on January 19 in which a ski had been cut off. On March 15 the USMS NORTH STAR was ordered north to Punta Arenas, Chile, where the men from West Base would disembark and food and fuel for a second year would be put aboard for East Base in the event the men could not be evacuated. Meanwhile, on March 16 the USS BEAR put a party ashore on Mikkelsen Island, one of the Biscoe Islands just north of the Antarctic Circle, in order to build a landing strip suitable for evacuation purposes. The first flight left East Base at 5:30 a.m. on March 22 with 12 men aboard, along with records, specimens and emergency equipment. A second flight brought the remaining 12 men. The plane was abandoned on Watson Island and the USS BEAR sailed immediately, arriving at Punta Arenas on March 29. The USMS NORTH STAR arrived in Boston on May 5 and the USS BEAR on May 18.

Richard E. Byrd's story doesn't end here. Elsewhere in this website you will find the stories of Operation High Jump and Deep Freeze, both of which Byrd was actively involved with. Admiral Byrd literally worked all his adult life for personal, national and international interests in Antarctica. In his final years, his role was unfortunately downplayed by the Navy which, in my opinion, only contributed to his failing health and eventual death. The following excerpt from 90° South, by Dr. Paul A. Siple, says it best:

 

As January (1956) ebbed, Byrd grew anxious to leave. We had achieved our main goals in Deep Freeze 1, he pointed out, and there was little need to linger. His attitude was in sharp contrast with that which he had exhibited on Operation Highjump. I recalled that when departure time came in 1947, a striking sunset had turned the sky into a Kodachrome world. Even as the last call had been shouted, Byrd had kept his eyes fixed on the iridescent sky. "But I don't want to go yet, Paul," he had said, shaking his head. But times had changed. The small discourtesies exhibited toward Byrd by Task Force (43) officers who felt Byrd represented the past had continued without abatement, and the strain of ignoring them had grown wearing to a man whose temper could be Wagnerian when he was provoked. Time after time I could see the anger creep along the entire length of his body and then subside as his words came out steady, even casual. . . And so on February 3, Byrd and I pulled out of McMurdo Sound and headed for home. For Byrd it was his last departure from the Antarctic. His wisdom had been responsible for bringing about the great new era of Antarctic activity. Others would carry on his work of exploration, making even greater use of the scientific and mechanical tools of the modern world. None could live long enough to hope to make a greater contribution than he had.

Moose Remington came to me about three P.M. on March 12 (1957). His face was clouded and his eyes avoided mine. "What is it?" I asked him.

"I just heard the news over the Armed Forces Radio," he said softly, "that Admiral Byrd died today in Boston".

When he left I wrote a message for Mrs. Byrd, Marie, Dick's loving helpmate: "My grief is as one of the family. I am here at the Pole largely because Dick wished it so. I will do my best to continue my job as he would want it to be done. Please accept my deepest sympathy for the loss of a loving husband, father, loyal comrade and one of our greatest American citizens. Affectionately, Paul."

A modest man, Byrd did not talk of his twenty-two citations and special commendations, nine of which were for bravery and two for extraordinary heroism in saving the lives of others. Nor did he boast of the medals he had amassed, which included the Congressional Medal of Honor, the Congressional Life Saving Medal, the Distinguished Service Medal, the Flying Cross and the Navy Cross. Instead, his talk was of minor matters, of adventures that went awry or did not turn out as expected. There was the accident to his plane that had enabled Lindbergh to become the first man to fly the Atlantic nonstop to Europe in a land plane. Later, Byrd had made the trip with Bert Acosta, George Noville and Bernt Balchen, though they had almost failed to reach France. They had crashed into the sea off the coast and had had to swim for their lives. "How did those early years go for you, Paul?" he asked. "Not so adventurous or romantic as yours," I said.

Lincoln Ellsworth1880-1951

 

Lincoln Ellsworth was born into a prominent religious family in Chicago, Illinois on May 12, 1880. His father was responsible for building one of the first skyscrapers in Chicago, the Ellsworth Building. Their spacious home at 1827 Michigan Avenue housed a library filled with first editions and an art gallery containing a collection of important pieces by famous artists, including Rembrandt's "Portrait of a Man." As a child, Lincoln saw very little of his father. His mother, Eva, died in 1888 and just as he and his sister Clare were growing up and needing their father the most, his business enterprises were rapidly expanding in size and importance. He traveled constantly to New York, Montreal and Europe and while in Chicago, business held his attention from morning until night. Later in life, daydreaming about his father would bring tears to his eyes as he came to realize that his father had actually been a very lonely man. In his own words, "If I did not have for him the warm affection a son feels toward a less austere and preoccupied father, I at least had an immense respect for him, and a great admiration. One of the things that made me persist in the Antarctic in the face of sickening discouragements was my determination to name a portion of the earth's surface after my father. I knew that if I could cross that ice-locked continent I was bound to discover new territory. On the most recent map of Antarctica a segment of 350,000 square miles of mountain and high plateau is lettered: 'James W. Ellsworth Land (U.S.)'. That much I could do for him."

"School was a horror. I couldn't do anything with school - always the dunce of my classes, always falling behind. It was to be this way throughout my school and college days. Not until, years later, I found my true interest in life did I discover that I could master a subject, no matter how difficult, if it helped me in what I wanted to do."

Together with pilot Herbert Hollick-Kenyon, Lincoln Ellsworth would complete the first

transantarctic flight in history. With four stops along the route, the flight covered 2200 miles with an elapsed time of approximately 20 hours. The transantarctic flight was the longest flight in Antarctic history, an accomplishment not repeated again until January 1956. That the flight was successful under such extreme conditions was the result of a combination of a good airplane, flown by a man with excellent pilot and navigational skills, together with a great deal of courage and just plain luck.

 

Ellsworth's Introduction to Polar Exploration

Together with the dawn of aerial exploration in the polar regions came a proliferation of expeditions and sojourns, many of which became "firsts" for this new method of discovery. Ellsworth's initial exposure to polar adventures began on May 21, 1925, when he, Roald Amundsen and four other men set out in two Dornier flying boats, the N-24 and N-25, on a mission to be the first to fly to the North Pole.

N24 / 88°N Their departure point was near the small coal mining village at King's Bay, Spitzbergen. With enough fuel to cover 1200 miles and food for twenty days, the men headed off on an adventure that nearly cost them their lives. After an eight-hour flight, they came down and landed in a lead that was large enough to accommodate the planes. After taking observations, they realized that strong head winds had actually held them back some 120 miles from the Pole. Suddenly, the lead closed up and the two planes became separated by three miles, with hummocks hiding them from each other.

The entire day was spent trying to locate each other with five more days passing before finally reuniting. Unfortunately, by this time Ellsworth's plane, N-24, was wrecked and the N-25 was in a small pool surrounded on all sides by pack ice. To get the N-25 into the air, a level runway had to be constructed on the moving floes of ice. With three wooden shovels, a two-pound pocket safety-ax and an ice anchor the only tools available, work continued every day for hours on end as 300 tons of ice had to be moved. As the men sought shelter in the cabin of the plane, Ellsworth wrote, "The scanty heat from the 'Primus,' together with that given out by our bodies, was sufficient to raise the temperature above freezing. The hoarfrost (which coated heavily the inside of the metal

compartment), melting, dripped down our necks and spattered into our mugs of chocolate . . . Spitsbergen was but eight hours away; maybe tomorrow we would be on the way!

Thus passed our twenty-four ice-bound days, but on the twenty-fifth - the day we had actually set, two weeks previously, to start on foot for the Greenland coast, 400 miles away, which we knew we could not reach - our efforts to free the planes from the ice were rewarded, and one plane with six men in it rose and left that hell, forever." Spitzbergen was reached with a scant 23 gallons of gasoline left in the tank.

The following year, on May 10, 1926, Amundsen and Ellsworth found themselves in Kings Bay, Spitzbergen, at a dinner for Commander Richard E. Byrd where they were celebrating his accomplishment of having flown to the North Pole and back only the day before. It was at this celebration dinner that the two announced their plans to pilot a dirigible across the North Pole to Alaska. Fourteen other men would join them in the historic crossing, including General Umberto Nobile. At 8:30 a.m. the following day, they launched their dirigible, the NORGE, on a flight across the North Pole to Alaska. After 16 hours in the air, they passed over the spot where they had been frozen in the year before. As the coastline of Alaska was approached, their wireless transmitter gave out as "ice coated the aerial wire and froze the windmill driver of our generator, which supplied the electrical energy to operate the transmitter and charge the storage batteries." They first spotted Alaska in the vicinity of Point Barrow and as they made their way along the coastline towards Nome, extremely dense fog was encountered which forced them to rise above it. They zigzagged around for the next day and could only hope and pray they hadn't drifted too far off course as they worked their way out of a tough predicament. At 3:30 a.m. on May 14, they rounded Cape Prince of Wales and brought the NORGE, coated with a ton of ice, safely to rest at the little trading post of Teller, 91 miles northwest of Nome. The journey across the polar sea from Europe took 72 hours and covered 3, 393 miles.

Admiral Byrd's transatlantic flight of 1927 drew world attention to him and in April 1928, Sir Hubert Wilkins and his pilot Carl Ben Eielson flew in an airplane from Alaska to Spitzbergen. Later that same year, during the Antarctic summer of 1928-29, Wilkins was found exploring, by air, the coast of Graham Land in the Antarctic. In December 1928, Byrd led an expedition to the Antarctic, setting up a comfortable base camp on the shelf ice beside the Bay of Whales in the Ross Sea. In November 1929, Byrd, along with his pilot Bernt Balchen and two others, flew to the South Pole and back, becoming the first to do so. Riiser-Larsen was already in the Antarctic with ship and plane and during January and February 1930, several exploratory flights were made along the coast east of the Weddell Sea. The following year, Sir Douglas Mawson, flying from the research ship RRS DISCOVERY II, explored 2500 miles of coastline in the Australian and African quadrants of Antarctica. It was evident that the Arctic and Antarctic was a great arena for adventure and exploratory aviation.

In the spring of 1930, Lincoln Ellsworth was in Schloss Lenzburg, Switzerland when Sir Hubert Wilkins came to visit him. The first thought of organizing an Antarctic adventure was born as Ellsworth listened enthusiastically to Wilkins plans to operate a submarine under the Arctic ice, for which he needed financial support. Ellsworth consented to attaching his name as scientific advisor to the expedition and when Ellsworth spoke of his Antarctic dream, Wilkins gave the impression that he would be willing to enlist as his advisor.

As Wilkins sailed from New London, an invitation arrived for Ellsworth to join the GRAF ZEPPELIN as an Arctic navigation expert on a proposed flight into the Arctic. The airship was inaugurating a summer cruise into the Arctic, a place where cruise ships of the day would never dare venture. Ellsworth jumped at the opportunity, acting as explorer on behalf of the American Geographical Society. They departed from Friedrichshafen on the morning of July 24th, flying on a course that took them along the Nova Zembla coast, Franz Josef Land, Nicholas II Land and other points in the Far North. There were only fifteen passengers aboard, all of them scientists. One can only imagine the shock of running into Umberto Nobile on the giant airship, someone

Ellsworth hadn't seen since their 1926 flight aboard the NORGE. As Ellsworth put it, "He had aged visibly since then. The ITALIA disaster had made a different man of him."

The sight of Arctic ice and unknown lands created a burning desire that hadn't been felt since his first meetings with Amundsen. Ellsworth waited impatiently in New York for Wilkins to return and when he finally arrived, "one evening we spread out before us the map of Antarctica." Wilkins would be in charge of setting up the bases from which to operate. With Bernt Balchen as pilot, Ellsworth's intention was to make an airplane flight from Byrd's LITTLE AMERICA II base in the Ross Sea to the head of the Weddell Sea and return, being the first to accomplish a transantarctic flight. When confronted with inclement weather, they would land and while doing so, take celestial observations to determine geographical fixes.

 

 

THE FIRST ATTEMPT1933-34

 

Wilkins was dispatched to Norway to purchase a strong wooden fishing vessel which would be used as the expedition ship. A 400-ton herring vessel, named the FANEFJORD, was subsequently purchased, refitted and renamed the WYATT EARP, after the famous frontier marshal whom Ellsworth admired. Ellsworth's plane, named the POLAR STAR, was built by the Northrop Corporation of Inglewood, CA. The all-metal, low-winged monoplane was propelled by a 600 hp Wasp engine which gave her a top speed of 230 miles per hour. The plane was equipped with wing flaps which reduced landing speed to 42 mph. With a full load of gas she had a range of 7000 miles.

Bernt Balchen Including Ellsworth and Wilkins, the expedition numbered 17 men. Bernt Balchen was the pilot with Chris Braathen serving as mechanic. Dr. Jorgen Holmboe was meteorologist, Walther J. Lanz was radio operator and Dr. Reals Berg served as medical officer. Captain Baard Holth and eight officers and crewmen of the WYATT EARP were Antarctic veterans having served on Norwegian whaling expeditions.

The POLAR STAR was shipped to Oslo and loaded aboard the WYATT EARP and in early July of 1933, the expedition embarked on its 18,000-mile , nearly 4-month voyage to New Zealand. The expedition ship arrived in Dunedin on November 9 and proceeded to refuel and take aboard final supplies for the expedition. On December 10, 1933, the WYATT EARP sailed from Dunedin for the Bay of Whales and Byrd's old base at LITTLE AMERICA.

One week later, they arrived at the pack ice closing off the Ross Sea. The ice was heavy that year and the next 22 days were spent trying to worm their way through it. For 13 of the 22 days they were locked in the ice at a total standstill. Much of the time was spent forging ahead to collide with the ice, backing up and then ramming ahead again. In the process, the gears were worn down to the point where their half-speed was entirely lost. Finally, on January 9, 1934, they moored to the edge of the ice in the Bay of Whales some 12 miles north of LITTLE AMERICA . The POLAR STAR was lowered by crane onto the level snow and on

the 12th, Balchen and Ellsworth took the plane on a thirty-minute test flight over Roald Amundsen's old trail leading to the South Pole. Everything worked perfectly and the explorers were ready for the great attempt.

A Crippled POLAR STAR

 

The POLAR STAR was moved inland about a mile due to the fact that the ice front was being pounded by heavy seas and breaking off a little. Wilkins questioned whether this was far enough or not and despite Balchen agreeing, everyone was tired and Balchen felt it would be safe for the night. About 4 o'clock in the morning shouts from the men on watch caused everyone to run up on deck where they witnessed heavy swells and a grinding mass of ice cakes and floes for five miles inland. Off in the distance, stranded on a small cake, was the POLAR STAR. It wasn't long before the small ice-cake broke in half, dropping the skis and fuselage into a crevasse with only the wings supporting the plane above the bay. Some six hours later the plane was lifted aboard but she was in pitiful shape, having had her skis fractured and one wing bent. The plane was clearly not airworthy and only a factory could put it back into flying condition. Nothing could be done to salvage the expedition so at this point the WYATT EARP was turned northward. Mooring at Dunedin was no easy chore, either. Due to the fact that she had no half-speed, she smashed her nose against the dock which required additional repairs for another voyage to the Antarctic. An oil tanker heading for California was used to transport the POLAR STAR back to the states where she would undergo improvements at the Inglewood factory. Meanwhile, Ellsworth hung back and caught a ride to San Francisco with the MARIPOSA.

 

THE SECOND ATTEMPT1934-35

 

It goes without saying that some valuable experience and a number of lessons were learned from the first attempt at a transantarctic flight. It became apparent to Ellsworth that a plan to fly from the Ross Sea to the Weddell Sea and return was problematic in several ways. A significant problem would present itself if the plane were forced down at the eastern end of the trip as they would be staring at a minimum 1000-mile trek, by foot, across the ice cap. Their lives would virtually hang on the performance and durability of the aircraft. Also, experience taught them that it is impossible to get into the Ross Sea and reach the Bay of Whales before January, however

January is a poor month for Antarctic flying. The best months would be October and November but after the first of December, fogs set in. Thus, the only logical way to accomplish their feat was to have the WYATT EARP offload them on one of the islands along the Antarctic peninsula, probably Deception Island since Wilkins was so familiar with the area, and fly across Antarctica proper to LITTLE AMERICA and wait for the WYATT EARP to break through the ice and join them in January. By doing so, the plane would have a much shorter route than the previously proposed round-trip journey, which in turn would enable them to carry a sledge, tent, food supplies and camping equipment. Another safety measure was their proximity to Charcot Island. The half-way point of the flight would take Ellsworth within 300 miles of this southernmost and westernmost piece of land along the peninsula, an island which Wilkins knew like the back of his hand since he flew entirely around it in 1929. If something were to happen to the plane, Ellsworth could describe the landmarks and thus make it easy for the WYATT EARP to rendezvous with them. On September 19, 1934, Ellsworth and 16 other men sailed from Dunedin on a quest to accomplish what had eluded Shackleton, Wilkins, Riiser-Larsen and three other expeditions since 1914: the crossing of Antarctica from the Weddell Sea to the Ross Sea.

 

SCIENTIFIC PARTY

Leader:Lincoln Ellsworth

Technical Assistant:Sir Hubert Wilkins

Pilot:Bernt Balchen

Medical OfficerDr. Dana C. Coman

Radio Officer :LanzMeteorologist:Dr. Holmboe

Motor Mechanic:Chris Braathen

CREW OF THE WYATT EARP

Captain:HolthFirst Mate:Olsen

Second Mate:LiavaagChief Engineer:Holmboe

Assistant Engineer:BigsthCabin Boy:Larsen

BoatswainThree Deck Hands

 

The 4000-mile voyage to Deception Island took its toll on the crew and ship as wind-lashed seas, gales, blizzards and hurricanes were encountered on a daily basis. It took the WYATT EARP twenty-six days to make the crossing to Deception Island and by the time they arrived, the men looked as though they had just been discharged from a hospital as their eyes watered from the glare of the snow.

The most violent weather of the entire voyage swept down on them as they approached Deception Island. Visibility dropped very low as they ran into a howling blizzard blowing with hurricane force from the north. Deception Harbor is formed by the crater of an extinct volcano and although land-locked, the entrance can be a little tricky, especially when blocked by an iceberg as it was that day. They squeezed through and eventually made their way to the abandoned Norwegian whaling station at Port Foster. By morning they were thoroughly packed and frozen in. For the next five days they fought rain, sleet and high winds after which the POLAR STAR was unloaded and dragged up the steep beach. It would take 10 days, until October 29th, to assemble the plane for flight.

That evening, they deemed it advisable to run the Wasp engine a little and after a half-turn of the propeller, there was a terrific jar and a loud snap as the engine stalled. The engine broke a connecting rod and despite boxes of spare parts taken along, none were

included though everything else was there.

Arrangements were made by 2-way radio to have the spare rods flown by Pan American-Grace Airways to the southernmost Chilean port of Magallanes. Ellsworth, Balchen, Braathen, Dr. Coman and Dr. Holmboe remained behind in the dwelling houses while the rest went with the WYATT EARP on the 1000-mile voyage north. By the time the WYATT EARP returned on November 16, the snow fields to be used for takeoff had thinned exposing patches of black volcanic rock. Ten days later the engine was repaired but fog and mild temperatures persisted and with it, all hope of flying had to be abandoned. Everything was loaded back onto the WYATT EARP and on November 27, they sailed south in search of a new base. They traveled extensively around the peninsula until mid-January. On January 21, 1935, they sailed from Deception Island for Montevideo, Uruguay where Ellsworth decided to lay up the WYATT EARP until future plans could be made. Ellsworth crossed to Buenos Aires and after arriving in America, went by plane from the west coast of the United States to New York.

 

THE THIRD ATTEMPT1935-36

 

Bernt Balchen returned to Norway to enter commercial aviation so Ellsworth went to work to find a new pilot. The search ended when two pilots flying for Canadian Airways were hired. Herbert Hollick-Kenyon, an Englishman from London, and J. H. Lymburner, an Ontario farm boy, were the talented men Ellsworth chose to participate in the third attempt at a transantarctic flight.

Early in May, Ellsworth and his wife sailed for Europe to make their annual visit to Switzerland. Afterwards, they took the GRAF ZEPPELIN to South America, disembarking at Rio de Janeiro. After sending his wife on her way back to the States, Ellsworth boarded the Italian liner Augustus for the trip down to Montevideo. Upon arrival, Ellsworth was pleased to find his new pilots, mechanic and navigating crew on hand together with a good-as-new plane. On a pleasant October afternoon they started south with their first stop being to refuel in Magallanes, Chile. With full bunkers and provisions for two years, they sailed from Magallanes on October 28, 1935, arriving five days later at Deception Island. Heavy pack ice had blown in but two days later they made it through to the whaling station. On November 11 they moved out of Deception Harbor and made for Dundee Island and upon arrival, chose a base at the northwestern end of the island at a sheltered passage between Dundee Island and Joinville Island. By November 18, the POLAR STAR had been test-flown, fueled and readied for the historic flight.

Commencing on November 20, a number of exploratory flights were conducted around the peninsula. At 4 a.m. local time, on November 23, Ellsworth and Hollick-Kenyon took off, heading southwestward over Prince Gustav Channel. They maintained an altitude of approximately 7500 feet while flying at an indicated air speed of 126 miles per hour. As they proceeded southward the pack ice became heavier until navigable leads were nowhere in sight. They crossed the Larsen Ice Shelf and soon brought the plane up to 11,000 feet where they were able to scan the glacier-filled valleys in the vicinity of Stefansson Strait. At 12:22 p.m. Ellsworth made an entry in his journal:

Crossed Stefansson Strait. Confirmed Wilkins' discovery of a separation between Graham Land and the Continent of Antarctica, but observed Strait to be not more than one mile wide, which is much less than is shown on maps.

Compass bearing of coast SE 138° and W 242°. Low black conical peaks of Cape Eielson on our left. Climbed to

elevation 13,400 feet, temp. minus 22° cent.

Heading for unknown. Bold and rugged mountain peaks across our route lay ahead, some of which seemed to rise almost sheer to 12,000 as far as the eye could see. I named this range "Eternity Range". 

They crossed George VI Sound, now at an altitude of 10,000 feet, and flew on toward the southwest and across the southwestern part of Alexander Island. The western limb of George VI Sound was crossed in the vicinity of the Eklund Islands. Flying on a southwesterly coarse, they crossed the English Coast and promptly lost use of their radio (later determined to be a defective switch on the antenna lead). Meanwhile, Lanz remained at the radio for hours in an effort to regain contact with the plane. Although Ellsworth knew it was malfunctioning, no effort to land and repair the radio would be attempted until crossing the 80th meridian. When Ellsworth estimated they had reached 80° W, he dropped an American flag as a sign of his having discovered the vast plain and recorded in his journal his intention of naming the area James W. Ellsworth Land in honor of his father.

Hollick-Kenyon / Lincoln Ellsworth

They had been in the air 13 hours when the decision was taken to land in order to ascertain their position since visibility was getting poor. The exact location of this first landing was later determined to be 79° 15' S, 102° 35' W. They parked the plane and set up camp where they remained for 19 hours. Ellsworth raised the American flag and claimed the land between 80° W and 120° W for the United States and named the area, as before, in honor of his father. That part above 6000 feet he named the Hollick-Kenyon Plateau. On November 24, shortly before noon local time, they took off again for LITTLE AMERICA.

Due to rapidly worsening weather, the plane was forced to land only 30 minutes after taking off. Here they remained for three days of unsettled weather during which time they took 30 careful sights of the sun, but since the sextant was out of adjustment, the results were inconclusive. However, the position of Camp II was later determined to be 79° 22' S, 107° 30' W.

Late in the afternoon of November 27, Ellsworth and Hollick-Kenyon took off but once again were forced down, this time after 50 minutes of flight time. They scarcely had enough time to tie the plane down and pitch their tent before a blizzard hit. The storm continued for three days while the men remained in their tent. The occasional intervals of bright sunshine allowed Hollick-Kenyon to take sextant readings after which Camp III was determined to be located at 79° 58' S, 114°, 15' W, only 500 miles from their goal.

The 3-day storm had nearly buried the POLAR STAR. Most of next few days were spent shoveling away the snow that had even sifted into the cockpit and tail section. The plane was cleared and the engine fired up after noon on the 3rd of December. Another storm broke out that afternoon which forced them to wait until the following day to continue their epic flight. At 11:38 a.m. local time the POLAR STAR took off from Camp III on a coarse toward the Bay of Whales. Some four hours later they decided to land a fourth time to ascertain their position and to check their fuel supply. Their position was ultimately determined to be 79° 29' S, 153° 27' W at an elevation of less than 1000 feet. After spending the night, they took off at 8:58 a.m. local time for the Bay of Whales some 150 miles away.

Scarcely more than an hour later they were forced to land as the engine sputtered and died. The fuel supply dried up as the plane glided to a landing at 10:03 a.m. local time. They spent the rest of the day securing the plane and setting up camp. Dead reckoning told them that they were very close to LITTLE AMERICA. However, they weren't certain as to which direction to head in order to locate Byrd's LITTLE AMERICA II. They expected to find little more than the antenna towers and ventilators exposed above the snow. As was later determined, they were approximately 16 miles from LITTLE AMERICA but didn't reach it until December 15, almost 11 days after being forced down. Distances can be extremely deceiving in the Antarctic and these two gentleman began to experience that abnormality on December 6 when they tried to reach a black object they thought might be a stovepipe or ventilator at LITTLE AMERICA only to find an empty gas can used during Byrd's expedition. They were forced to return to the plane and make a new attempt at finding LITTLE AMERICA the following day. They set out in the direction of what looked like ice-covered towers and rooftops but were forced back to the plane to grab the sledge and additional food supplies stowed in the plane. It wasn't until December 9 that they discovered the towers and buildings were actually blocks of ice

On December 10 they set out with enough food supplies and equipment necessary for a prolonged search. They utilized a pocket compass for direction and traveled on a set schedule of pulling the sledge for 15 minutes, then resting for 5, over the coarse of a 10-hour day. Frostbite plagued Ellsworth's foot as the heavy sledge was pulled through wet, heavy snow. They began to fear they would not find LITTLE AMERICA, when on December 13 they arrived at the edge of the Ross Ice Shelf. From there they traveled westward to find the Bay of Whales. On December 15 they came upon two tractors half-buried in snow at Ver-Sur-Mer Inlet and some time later they

reached LITTLE AMERICA where they entered the radio shack through a skylight.

The next day Ellsworth and Hollick-Kenyon busied themselves with making life as easy as possible while awaiting the arrival of the WYATT EARP which was expected a month later. At Ver-Sur-Mer Inlet they erected the tent marked with orange streamers as a signal to the WYATT EARP when it arrived. As the days went by, Ellsworth's foot became infected.

The WYATT EARP

When radio contact broke off with the POLAR STAR, two different plans were put into effect to retrieve the men. The governments of Australia, New Zealand and the United Kingdom, acting through the Discovery Committee of the Colonial Office, organized a joint relief effort utilizing the services of the RRS DISCOVERY II, which was then in the vicinity of the Queen Mary Coast conducting whaling and oceanographic investigations. The vessel was ordered back to Melbourne where fuel and provisions were taken aboard. From Melbourne, the vessel sailed to Dunedin, New Zealand where a message was received from Sir Hubert Wilkins stating his confidence that the men had reached their objective and that he expected the WYATT EARP to be at 70° S, 170° W by January 19. After taking aboard additional fuel, the ship set sail for the Bay of Whales on January 2, 1936.

The RRS DISCOVERY II reached the pack ice in the Ross Sea on January 7 and on January 15 entered the Bay of Whales. That evening Ellsworth's tent was spotted. A plane was sent aloft with an emergency food parcel and dropped by parachute to Hollick-Kenyon who was waiting below. The next day a party arrived from the ship and that night Ellsworth returned with them to the RRS DISCOVERY II where he received medical attention for his foot. A radio message was sent to Melbourne announcing to the world that Ellsworth and Hollick-Kenyon were safe. The DISCOVERY II would now await the arrival of the WYATT EARP.

By November 26, 1935, any attempt by Lanz to gain radio contact with the POLAR STAR was considered futile so Wilkins ordered the WYATT EARP to sail for Deception Island. Drums of gasoline and a message were left behind at Dundee Island in case the men landed there later. They arrived at Deception Island the next day. Meanwhile, Mrs. Ellsworth, who had been in regular contact with Wilkins, was organizing a relief party of her own. A plane was chartered by them to fly to Magallanes, Chile, where it would be loaded aboard the WYATT EARP. As luck would have it, the plane crashed in Atlanta, Georgia. Another Northrup plane, offered by the Texaco Company, was chartered and flown to Chile by pilot Dick Merrell together with mechanic William J. Klenke, Jr. The plane was put aboard the WYATT EARP at Magallanes and on December 22 the ship sailed for Charcot Island. The ship arrived off Charcot Island on December 28 but the pack ice was 60 miles wide and impenetrable. By December 31 Wilkins determined that to wait any longer would be futile, especially since he was confident the men had attained their goal. Besides, if the plane had gone down it was more likely to have done so nearer the Bay of Whales than in the vicinity of Charcot Island. As a result, he ordered the ship directly for the Bay of Whales. At 6 p.m. on January 19, 1936, she was sighted by the RRS DISCOVERY II and the next day both ships were at the Bay of Whales.

Ellsworth returned to Australia with the RRS DISCOVERY II while Hollick-Kenyon remained with the WYATT EARP in order to assist with the salvage of the POLAR STAR. The RRS DISCOVERY II left the Bay of Whales at 12:40 a.m. on January 22 and proceeded to Cape Crozier where a landing was made. From there, they sailed north to Franklin Island and the Balleny Islands for additional surveys and scientific investigations. The vessel arrived at Melbourne on February 16, 1936.

Meanwhile, Ellsworth's men succeeded in getting one of Byrd's abandoned tractors running with which they set out for the POLAR STAR. After refueling the plane, they were able to fly it to the Bay of Whales where it was loaded onto the WYATT EARP. A week after arriving, the WYATT EARP was on its way from the Bay of Whales. Ellsworth was in New York to greet his men as they arrived on April 19, 1936.

A number of significant accomplishments were attained on this expedition. The transantarctic flight, starting at Dundee Island on November 23, 1935 and ending about 16 miles from LITTLE AMERICA II on December 5, covered a distance of 2200 miles of which 1200 miles was over previously unexplored territory. Other than the polar flight of Byrd and overland journeys of Scott and Amundsen to the South Pole, the transantarctic flight penetrated farther into the interior than any other expedition before them. The upland discovered by Ellsworth between 80° and 120° E longitude was claimed for the United States and named James W. Ellsworth Land. Ellsworth was able to photograph the major fault depression which John Rymill's BRITISH GRAHAM LAND EXPEDITION later surveyed and named King George VI Sound. While waiting for the weather to cooperate during the 1934-35 season, Ellsworth collected 150 specimens of 28 species of fossils on Snow Hill Island of which three of the species had never before been found in the Antarctic. These were all turned over to the American Museum of Natural History together with artifacts collected at Otto Nordenskjold's old hut on Snow Hill Island. Additional topographical features were discovered and named during both the 1934-35 and 1935-36 seasons, including the Hollick-Kenyon Plateau, the Sentinel Range, Mount Ulmer and features along the Nordenskjold

Coast.

 

ELLSWORTH ANTARCTIC EXPEDITION 1938-39

 

It was Lt. Charles Wilkes, leader of the UNITED STATES EXPLORING EXPEDITION 1838-42, who first generated interest in the Indian Ocean sector of Antarctica. Whalers and sealers from New London were active in the vicinity of Kerguelen Island during the middle of the 19th century and in 1853, John J. Heard discovered Heard Island which was occupied steadily for more than 20 years. As the years passed, whaling and sealing was reduced to an insignificant level. Lincoln Ellsworth would be the first American to bring the flag back to this quadrant after nearly 50 years of inactivity. His expedition would be the last Antarctic expedition from any country that was privately funded.

Once again, Sir Hubert Wilkins offered his services to assist in the organization of the expedition. The expedition ship was a veteran of the first three Ellsworth expeditions. The WYATT EARP, berthed at Aalesund, Norway, was reconditioned in the summer of 1938 and prepared for the expedition. Two airplanes would be taken on the expedition: an all-metal Northrop Delta monoplane with a 750-hp Wright cyclone engine, and a small Aeronca two-seated plane to be used for scouting. Both planes were equipped with wheels, pontoons, skis and 2-way radios.

The expedition included 19 men with Ellsworth the organizer, leader and aerial navigator and Wilkins as technical advisor and manager. J. H. Lymburner, reserve pilot on Ellsworth's 1935-36 expedition, was named chief pilot while Burton J. Trerice of St. Johns, Quebec and Amerherst, Nova Scotia, was named reserve pilot and flight engineer. Dr. Harmon F. Rhoads, Jr., of Everett, WA, was appointed medical officer and Frederick Seid of New York City joined the crew as radio operator. All officers and crew of the WYATT EARP were Norwegian.

The WYATT EARP departed from the seaplane base of Floyd Bennett Field in New York on August 16, 1938 and put into port at Pernambuco, Brazil on September 13 to take on supplies. She sailed the next day for Cape Town, arriving on October 9, where Ellsworth joined the expedition following a hunting trip in Africa. With the expedition fully in place, the WYATT EARP sailed from Cape Town on October 29 and reached Kerguelen Island on November 14. The ship was moored for three days in Royal Sound as the engine was cleaned. An abundance of rabbits and teal were found on nearby islands and subsequently killed and brought aboard to supplement their supply of fresh meat.

The WYATT EARP set out for Heard Island on November 17 but bad weather kept them from landing there. Rough seas, whipped up by 50 mph winds, wouldn't subside until November 20 and then at midnight, in about 55° S, 75° W, the WYATT EARP first confronted the outer edge of the ice pack. Ellsworth was surprised to meet the pack this far north. Forty-five days were spent working through the ice, approximately 800 miles wide. At 3 a.m., on January 1, 1939, the ice-bound coast of Antarctica was reached. Utilizing the Aeronca for reconnaissance, it took until the 3rd to find a suitable place to moor the ship. While moored against the ice on January 3, Ellsworth landed on one of the Svenner Islands to collect geological specimens. Although the islands had been discovered by Klarius Mikkelsen in February 1935, it appeared that this was the first landing to be made there. In order to use the Northrop plane, a new flying field needed to be located. Having reconnoitered the Rauer Islands and the Ingrid Christensen Coast to the north and south, the WYATT EARP moored to a piece of level bay ice on January 5 where adjacent islets of the Rauer Islands formed a protective harbor for the ship. Early the next day the Northrop plane was readied for flight. Severe weather forced them to move to a new location.

During the night of January 10, the WYATT EARP reached the new mooring place northeast of the Vestfold Hills. On January 11, the Northrop plane was swung onto the ice and filled with gas. The test flight takeoff, the first since leaving New York, confirmed the poor condition of the ice for that purpose. After a short flight, the decision was made to make a longer flight over the continent to the south. Just after 6 p.m. local time, Ellsworth and Lymburner took off and headed south along the 79th meridian. As they flew inland, they climbed quickly to 7000 feet and then to 11,500 feet as the continent rose below them. Once inland, no rock features were visible and the horizon, for 180 degrees, was unmarked by color or contour. When the gasoline supply was about half used, they were approximately 210 miles inland. At this turn-around point, Ellsworth dropped a brass cylinder containing the following message:

To whom it may concern:

Having flown on a direct course from latitude 68:30 S, longitude 79:00 E, to latitude 72° S, longitude 79° E, I drop this record, together with the flag of the United States of America, and claim for my country, so far as this act allows, the area south of latitude 70° to a distance of 150 miles south of latitude 72° S, longitude 79° E which I claim to have explored, dated Jan. 11, 1939. Lincoln Ellsworth.

Lymburner turned the plane around and a short time later they landed back at the ship. The wind was whipping from the east so once the plane was loaded aboard, the WYATT EARP set out slowly and cautiously along the coast in an attempt to find shelter. Meanwhile, Ellsworth was sending a radio dispatch to the New York Times telling his story of the flight and his formal act of claiming the territory for the United States. The world was first informed of this claim in the January 13, 1939 edition of the New York Times.

The storm, which had driven the WYATT EARP from its mooring on January 11 continued for the next two days. Afterwards, First Mate Liavaag and two other men were on a bergy bit chipping ice in order to refill the fresh water tanks when part of the berg broke off, throwing the men into the water. Liavaag was caught between two pieces of ice and before he could be rescued, his knee was crushed and kneecap broken. Dr. Rhoads examined Liavaag and determined that surgery was necessary. Since it would be difficult to perform this operation aboard the ship, Ellsworth decided to abandon any further attempts at flying over the interior and return at once to the nearest port. The WYATT EARP bucked heavy pack and strong seas but finally arrived at Hobart, Tasmania, on February 4, 1939.

After Ellsworth landed at Hobart, he publicly reasserted his claim to the territory over which he had flown on January 11 and actually increased the area involved from 80,000 square miles to 430,000 square miles. This claim was immediately disputed by the Australian Government and as a result, at the recommendation of Sir Douglas Mawson, the Government purchased the WYATT EARP for Antarctic exploration.

Following the sale of the WYATT EARP, the expedition was disbanded. On February 29, in Sydney, Australia, Ellsworth announced his intention of naming the area of 80,000 square miles claimed on his January 11 flight as "American Highland". Plans were also announced for yet another expedition but these were subsequently canceled due to the outbreak of World War II. Lincoln Ellsworth arrived back in Los Angeles on March 20, 1939.

Lincoln Ellsworth lived a full and adventurous life. He died in New York City on May 26, 1951.

Paul A. Siple1908-1968

 

Paul Allman Siple saw the first light of day on December 18, 1908, in Montpelier, Ohio. The proud parents were Clyde L. Siple and his wife Fannie Hope (Allman) Siple. When Paul was about ten years of age the family moved to Erie, Pennsylvania, where two years later he joined the Boy Scouts of America. Merit badge work held the greatest interest for him and by the time he was eighteen, sixty of these badges had been earned. Thinking of his efforts as an adventure in exploring, he applied himself to the study of insects, radio, woodwork, art, athletics, first aid, bee-keeping, and many other areas of science as well as pragmatic subjects. It was during this period of time that Siple found the assurance of God for himself and wrote that, "Only a Supreme Mind could have designed the harmonious and beautiful world of which I was becoming aware for the first time." His first knowledge of Captain Robert F. Scott's ill-fated journey came during a Sea Scout session aboard the retired brig NIAGRA when his Sea Scout leader read the story to his troop. It was at that moment his first desire to visit distant, frozen lands was ignited.Upon graduation from high school, he took a job working as an assistant draftsman for a year so that money could be saved for entering college. The following year he entered Allegheny College in Meadville, Pennsylvania and through the encouragement of Dr. Chester A. Darling, head of the Biology Department and a local Scoutmaster, chose biology for his major course in college. Spring examinations terminated, the summer was spent working as a nature instructor in a boy's camp with honest intentions of returning to school for his sophomore year in September.

However, when class opened in the fall of 1928, Paul Siple was earning his sea-legs on board Commander Richard E. Byrd's Antarctic Expedition flagship CITY OF NEW YORK as the official representative of the Boy Scouts of America. Siple spent the next eighteen months either at sea or on the Antarctic continent living like "civilized rats" in close quarters with 41 other men.

When the explorers returned to the United States in the spring of 1930, Siple began a series of extraordinary accomplishments. Returning to Allegheny College, he completed three years of study in two, thereby receiving his Bachelor of Science degree in biology in 1932. Dr. Darling, his mentor, was instrumental in this rapid movement and Siple forever after acknowledged his regard for and gratitude to his dear friend. Siple participated in a lecture tour during the years 1930 and 1931, most often speaking to Boy Scout councils. On several of these occasions, he and Admiral Byrd lectured together. His association and friendship with Richard E. Byrd had been incubated, given birth, and tightly interlocked until the Admiral's death on March 11, 1957.

Siple contained enough energy to have two books published by G.P. Putnam's Sons. A Boy Scout With Byrd saw print in the winter of 1931, followed by Exploring At Home in September of 1932. The former book contains an appendix by James E. West, Chief Scout Executive, detailing the entire process that provided the opportunity for a Boy Scout to accompany the First Byrd Antarctic Expedition. I have to believe, however, that the most important piece of good fortune to enter Paul Siple's life occurred in Meadville, Pennsylvania in 1930. On this rainy day occasion Siple met a young lady in the registrar's office at Allegheny College by the name of Ruth Ida Johannesmeyer and offered to drive her home.

All of the above not being enough, Siple decided to indulge himself in a knapsack field trip of foreign lands. In 1932, after the

publication of his second book (which, incidentally, Miss Johannesmeyer helped Paul put together), he departed for a view of Europe (including the Soviet Union), Asia Minor and northern Africa. While bumping across Egypt early in 1933, word was received from Admiral Byrd to hurry back to Boston, Massachusetts. The SECOND BYRD ANTARCTIC EXPEDITION was about to begin. During this time in the Near East, Siple was influenced by an American geographer he met, leading him to choose geography as his future field of specialization. Not geography, per se, but rather the effects of geographical conditions on humans and their possessions.

Preparations for the expedition were proceeding in a rather hectic manner. In order to cut expenses Byrd, as he did for his first Antarctic expedition, asked the men who were to go along to agree to serve for $1 a year. This done, financing and logistics were, relatively speaking, "nailed down" and Siple boarded a re-christened freighter, JACOB RUPPERT. With the chief Biologist aboard, the ship departed Bayonne, New Jersey on October 13, 1933, not to see the United States again until the expedition disbanded in 1935.

Several months passed after Siple's return to civilization tying up loose ends which included the placing of his lichens and moss specimens where they would be identified by specialists and catalogued. In 1936 Siple wrote, and had published, his manuscript titled Scout to Explorer which was dedicated to Admiral Richard E. Byrd, describing the events of his second expedition as he had experienced them. But now it was time for Siple to decide on a wage-earning career.

This decision culminated in registration at Clark University, which was located in Worcester, Massachusetts, and earning his Ph.D. in geography in 1939. His dissertation Adaptations of the Explorer to the Climate of Antarctica indicated his intentions of approaching geography through the door which opened to Climatology. Paul and Ruth Johannesmeyer, the young lady he met in the registrar's office at Allegheny College in 1930, tied the proverbial "knot" on December 29, 1936. Ruth remembers beginning their honeymoon driving to a seminar in Syracuse, New York. Ruth had typed up Paul's thesis, but then had to bid her husband "au revoir" once again. In 1939, the United States found itself viewing the Antarctic continent with more than scientific eyes.

Politics now became a factor prompting the U.S. government not only to intrude into Byrd's plans for a third expedition but to literally take over. Rather than a "third Byrd" it was officially titled the UNITED STATES ANTARCTIC SERVICE EXPEDITION 1939-41 (the latter date after-the-fact due to the beginning of another World War). Siple, at Byrd's urging, was assigned the leadership of the base set up at the Bay of Whales (a.k.a. West Base / Little America III) but additionally handled the logistics for the entire expedition. He boarded the USMS NORTH STAR on November 21, 1939, as part of the package that intended to colonize Antarctica, and departed Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Returning home in the spring of 1941 when the USS BEAR arrived at Boston, Massachusetts he was met by a gentleman from the United States Quartermaster Corps who explained to him that the government required his help as a cold weather expert. He also expressed the view that if we were to become involved in the war, fighting might take place in all climates.

Without hesitation, Siple joined forces with Uncle Sam, first as a civilian employee and then, after the attack on Pearl Harbor, he was commissioned as an army Captain. At the end of hostilities, he was

honorably discharged as a Lieutenant Colonel. Back in civilian clothes once more, he entered the Army Chief of Staff's Office of Research and Development as a scientist. This new job took him to a part of the world that had swung National Defense attention to the blank map areas of the Arctic Basin.

It is important to note here that experiments made by Siple and Charles F. Passel during the austral winter of the United States Antarctic Service Expedition firmed up Siple's earlier research on wind-chill factors. An index of wind-chill numbers was derived and the findings were published in the journal of the American Philosophical Society. Another, even more wonderful, event had occurred on Siple's return. For the very first time, he met his first daughter, Ann Byrd Siple, born on June 9, 1940 during his absence with the USASE at Little America III.

It was on October 16, 1946 that Siple and Robert N. Davis, an analyst for the Strategic Air Command, accompanied a United States Air Force B-29 air crew on the first extended-long-range flight over the geographic North Pole. Major Maynard E. White, USAF, commander of the highly classified 46th/72nd Reconnaissance Squadron and "Project Nanook" also was aboard as an observer. This mission was also the first ever made during the boreal night and, additionally, the first flight allowing the aviators to know the exact moment that the Pole was reached.

During these years of the late 1940's, studies were made by the reconnaissance squadron encompassing survival rations and equipment, navigational aids, weather reporting and national defense possibilities. Air searches for previously unknown land masses resulted in the locating of what appeared to be an island on October 14,1946 but proven later to be a floating ice island. Landings were made on TARGET-X, as it was designated, and determination was made that the island originated in a glacial fjord of Greenland. The finding of TARGET-X (re-designated T-1), followed by discovery of T-2 and T-3 (later known as FLETCHER'S ICE ISLAND), opened the door to future use of these islands as mobile scientific stations. Siple, always willing to tackle another geographic phenomenon, sought to establish the rate of movement of the north magnetic pole and what would be the result should this pole and the geographic pole converge. To this end, he worked with both the Air Force Reconnaissance Squadron operating out of Ladd Field in Fairbanks, Alaska (whose records were only de-classified in 1988) as well as Remington Rand Corp. laboratory experiments. Once again, however, Admiral Byrd enters the picture.

Byrd had gained the ear of the Secretary of the Navy as well as that of the Chief of Naval Operations, Fleet Admiral Chester W. Nimitz, resulting in an enormous naval operation impressively titled the UNITED STATES NAVY ANTARCTIC DEVELOPMENTS PROGRAM 1946-47, but better known as OPERATION HIGHJUMP. Siple departed Norfolk, Virginia, on December 2, 1946 aboard the USS MOUNT OLYMPUS (AGC-8) as Scientific and Polar Advisor as well as Senior Representative of the U.S. War Department.. A tent city was established at Little America IV in the Bay of Whales just adjacent to the air strip built to handle the reconnaissance planes due to arrive from the aircraft carrier USS PHILIPPINE SEA (CV-47) laying just outside the pack ice. Admiral Byrd was coming in on the first plane.

Even these responsibilities filling his mind, he found his thoughts ever more on his family life when away from home. Ruth had presented him with a second daughter, Jane Siple, on October 11, 1942 and a third daughter, Mary Siple, on October 26, 1946 just two months before embarking on OPERATION HIGHJUMP. At the other end of the emotional scale came news of his father's death just as he was approaching the Antarctic coast. Later, word arrived of his mother breaking her hip. Had someone, perhaps, shot an albatross on the way south?

By April 1947 most of the ships and men involved with the expedition were back in the United States. Much had been accomplished in the last four months, both at Little America IV and along the coastline of the continent. Politics and post-war economy interfered with a proposed OPERATION HIGHJUMP II set previously for 1949-50. However, it was allowed that a follow-up expedition take place in the austral summer of 1947-48 known as the US NAVY SECOND ANTARCTIC DEVELOPMENTS PROJECT, or OPERATION WINDMILL. This involved two Navy icebreakers, USS BURTON ISLAND and USS EDISTO, to provide geodetic ground control to match parts of certain photographs taken from OPERATION HIGHJUMP aircraft. Siple

was not a member of this strictly Navy project.

For the remainder of his life Siple continued as a cog in the wheels of the Research and Development Office of the U.S. Army. More precisely, Special Scientific Advisor, Army Research Office, Office of the Chief of Research and Development, Department of the Army. An appropriate handle for a scientist who held eight patents for the development of clothing, protective devices and building design. His research extended not only to the polar regions but encompassed desert, mountain and humid tropical conditions. Seven continents and most major island masses have held the weight of his body and bear his footprints. During the Korean War (1950-53) he traveled the length of the battle lines, on which American military personnel were risking their lives, checking on the equipment.

A seed had been planted in Siple's mind in the early 1950's when whispers of renewed national interest in Antarctica began to be heard. He wanted to know if these concerns were good or bad and, in order to find out he joined with those who were involved. Then, suddenly, our national interests bumped into the international geophysicists' desire for an International Geophysical Year. Siple's participation eventually evolved into his acceptance of Director of Scientific Projects for OPERATION DEEPFREEZE I, 1955-56. The National Program, our Defense Department and the IGY became bed-fellows and Siple was in the thick of it. In the course of planning the part that the United States would play, agreement was reached to provide scientific stations in Marie Byrd Land (Byrd Station), on the Filchner Ice Shelf (Ellsworth Station) and on the Clark Peninsula (Wilkes Station). Pushing their luck even further, it was suggested that a station be constructed and manned at Latitude 90 degrees South. Silence prevailed as the air was expelled from the lungs of the conference delegates. This decision was put on hold.

Siple was excused from his duties with the Army by the Department of Defense and ordered to take over the scientific projects for Task Force 43. South Pole Station was given the go-ahead, but a support base had to be built at McMurdo Sound. An additional station, Little America V, was also required near the old site of the former Little America(s) to provide support for the building of Byrd Station. On December 18, 1955, Siple arrived at McMurdo Station which coincided with his 47th birthday. On January 8, 1956, he made a flight to the South Pole with Admiral Byrd, Officer in Charge of the U.S. Antarctic Programme 1955-57. A landing was prohibited but he had wanted in the worst way to examine the surface conditions on the plateau. On February 3, 1956, both men returned to the United States. Byrd had no way of knowing that this would be the last time he would ever see the Antarctic continent. At this point, prior to Deepfreeze II 1956-57, Siple gave little thought of returning to the continent himself, let alone spending another austral winter there. He would soon be 48 years of age and fondly hoped that he would spend his daughter's teen-age years at home with them. Further he was deeply displeased with the decision that the IGY stations would have split commands whereby there would be a scientific leader and a military leader. He fended off several requests to take over as scientific leader at the South Pole but, once again, he found it impossible to say "no" to his friend Admiral Byrd and the U.S. Department of Defense. Only one consolation was offered in that if he was not satisfied that it would be safe to live at the Pole, he could call it off.

"Write me often," Siple said emotionally to his family and friends as he boarded the plane which would carry him on the first leg of his journey to the very end of the earth. It was October 4, 1956, another rainy day. Towards the end of the month, he found himself aboard the first U.S. Air Force plane to fly over the South Pole (it did not land), giving him the distinction of having been aboard the first two USAF aircraft to fly over the geographic poles. On November 20, 1956, the advance construction party was flown to the plateau site to begin erection of the station, but Siple was not permitted to board a plane at McMurdo until November 30th.

Navy yeoman Robert Chaudoin, temporary postal clerk at the station, broke out his equipment and struck a December 15, 1956 cancel on nearly a quarter-million pieces of mail which had arrived by plane. Pole Station, Antarctica, was now for real. On October 27, 1957, after eight months of isolation, a C-124 appeared overhead and air-dropped a load of supplies and personal mail. Thoughts of loved ones and friends intensified.

November 30, 1957, after exactly one year to the day since his arrival at the Pole, Siple shaved off his beard, put on clean clothes, packed his gear, said a silent prayer of thanksgiving, took a last look at the plateau, then entered the door of his plane. He had a one-way ticket to McMurdo, then on to Christchurch, New Zealand where the rain was pelting down.

Eighteen men had witnessed the sunset and sunrise on the South Polar Plateau for the first time in history. During his time at the Pole he had been featured on the front cover of the December 31, 1956 issue of Time magazine and his article, We are Living at the South Pole, was published in the July, 1957 issue of the National Geographic Magazine.

Five months after his return to civilization, Siple received the prestigious Hubbard Medal during a ceremony at the National Geographic Society headquarters. The affair took place on March 28, 1958, and was described in the National Geographic issued June, 1958. A previous article by Siple, Man's First Winter at the South Pole, had appeared in the April, 1958 issue. The following year his book 90 Degrees South, a compendium of his life as well as the time spent at the South Pole, appeared in bookstore windows. These products from the mind of Paul Siple were completed while he thrived in the atmosphere of a loving home and a job he relished at the Army Research Office.

From 1963-66 he served as the first U.S. Scientific Attache to Australia and New Zealand, bridging together scientists of all disciplines. While performing these duties at Wellington, New Zealand in June, 1966, he suffered a partial paralytic stroke and had to return to the United States. For more than two years, his smile and good humor never failing, he continued to work with the Army - - his left arm in a sling and a four-legged crutch grasped in his right. On November 25, 1968 he answered the summons of his Creator having sustained a fatal heart attack while seated at his desk. He was just 59 years of age.

Russell Owen, a correspondent for the New York Times, was assigned the coverage of the first Byrd Antarctic Expedition of 1928-30 as a wintering-over member. In 1934 Owen's book, South of the Sun, was published describing his experiences at Little America I during those years. He used a rather peculiar style of referring to the expedition members within its pages - - a style that this writer was unfamiliar with - - in that given names were not used but, rather, title, occupation, or job description. For example, Lawrence Gould, geologist and second in command, was referred to as "the Geologist". Captain Ashley McKinley, aerial surveyor and third in command, was always alluded to as "the Captain," and so on. If one were not familiar with the names of the residents of Little America I from other sources, Owen's literary effort would be quite confusing and less than informative. However, out of this muddle there were a few easily recognized personalities such as "the Commander" (Cdr. Byrd) and "the Boy Scout" (Paul A. Siple). The Boy Scout was as readily known then as he is even today, i.e. "The Eagle Scout who went with Byrd to the Antarctic".

Here is the way Owen described the young man who was later to become one of the greatest polar explorer / scientists of this century. "Perhaps no Boy Scout ever so belied his name. He was six feet tall, weighed in mid-winter more than two hundred pounds and had had his twenty-first birthday on the ice. He worked hard, kept his mouth shut, listened without comment to the ribaldry that went on about him, and never took part in it. He had the poise of a much older and experienced man." A succinct resume that indicates a familiarity with, and admiration for, this exemplary representative of the Boy Scouts of America. It is a well known dictum that in the Antarctic one can not hide one's real nature.

It is safe to say that Siple maintained the admirable qualities mentioned by Owen for the rest of his life judging by the four books he has authored, the comments of other writers who came to know him and the average person meeting him in more relaxed moments. This huge man with a gentle soul once wrote that he could be caught wasting time as much as the next guy, lolling in the sand at the beach, attending social functions, taking in a good movie, reading whatever literature first came to his hand, keeping physically fit and enjoying athletics. At any point in time, one could accurately describe Paul Siple as a man's man. He was curious, yes, but not singly so. James E. West, Chief Scout Executive in 1928, wrote that "the choice of Paul Siple, (to join

the Byrd Expedition) I think, can be fully understood when his peers, the Scouts competing for the appointment, agreed that Scout Siple would be one of the two persons each would want as a companion if it were possible to send three Scouts to the Antarctic." In other words, he was chosen as the candidate for participation in Byrd's expedition by his actual competition. Those judging the scouts added that, ". . .he is the type of boy that is always smiling; he is energetic; he has splendid leadership qualifications."

Not only in 1928, but as late as 1957 at South Pole Station he was described, at 48 years of age, to be the first to dig-in (literally, in the snow mine), the last to seek warmth, and physically outperformed men many years his junior in the thin air of the plateau. Firm in his decisions as to what he considered best for his fellow scientists and the navy men at the station, he initiated seminars and lectures in lieu of "daily" Hollywood movies. In spite of extreme cold temperatures averaging between -60 and -80 degrees F. and dipping as low as -102 degrees F. on September 17, 1957, he and Navy Lt. (j.g.) John Tuck (military leader at the station) took star shots to determine, as closely as possible, the location of the geographic South Pole. Years later, after having spent four winters and ten summers on the continent of Antarctica, Siple's behavior was that of the same boy described by James West in 1928.

Paul Siple, explorer, scientist, inventor, environmentalist, was above all else a Boy Scout and remained so during his life. He has told us that his Scout training formed the wedge which allowed him to remain at Little America I in 1929. He believed, and convinced Larry Gould, that he could provide penguin and seal skins for the American Museum of Natural History which the geologist had promised but would not be able to furnish himself due to more pressing obligations to the expedition. In this manner he met Byrd's criteria that, " . . . everyone who stays on the ice will have to have a reason." Siple's journey of a thousand miles began with that first step in January 1929. For generations to come the name Siple will be evident to those who study and / or visit the Antarctic Continent. On Siple Island (located at 73° 39'S, 125° 00'W) can be found Mount Siple (73° 15'S, 126° 06'W). If one may be inclined to traverse to Siple Coast it will be found at 82° 00'S, 155° 00'W. Then in 1969 the United States constructed a scientific installation at 76°S, 84' W in Ellsworth Land and named it Siple Station. Siple and Byrd were once again "together" (Byrd Station had been opened in 1957 in Marie Byrd Land).

Friendships do not really end with the passing of bosom friends. Sometimes those left behind see to it that names are linked together as long as metal and stone can withstand rust and disintegration. On June 21, 1993 a ceremony took place in Wellington, New Zealand at the Admiral Richard E. Byrd Memorial whereby the monument's restoration and rededication were solemnized. At this time a plaque was added at the foot of this artistically clad shrine honoring the late Paul A. Siple's accomplishments as well as his close partnership with Byrd. These two friends, the Admiral and the Boy Scout, are again linked together as they were way back there on the ice in 1929. *

 

 

* This article was reproduced by permission from the author, Joseph Lynch, Jr., a fellow polar philatelist specializing in Byrd I, II, III and Operation Highjump; from a series in the "Ice Cap News", the official journal of the American Society of Polar Philatelists. (Vol. 40, No. 3 & 4; Vol 41, No. 1 & 2)

Jean-Baptiste Charcot1867-1936

Captain Scott called him the "polar gentleman". The two men originally met on the slopes of Mont Ventoux where both were training for the next polar expedition each was to undertake. At this retreat they worked together to develop equipment that would later save the life of Australian Douglas Mawson, some fifteen years later. Jean-Baptiste Charcot was born on July 15, 1867 at Neuilly-sur-Seine, near Paris. Jean-Baptiste's father, Jean-Martin Charcot, was a notable neurologist; specialists came from all over the world to learn from Professor Charcot. Jean-Baptiste, true to his fathers' wishes, became a doctor himself but his first love was for sailing and the sea. At the age of thirty-five, Jean- Baptiste told Paul-Emile Victor that he was "nothing more than my father's son", a situation he disliked intensely. It was the turn of the century and three scientific expeditions were in the organizational stage: Adrien de Gerlache's Belgian expedition (the BELGICA EXPEDITION), Carsten Borchgrevink's British expedition (the SOUTHERN CROSS EXPEDITION) and W.S. Bruce's Scottish expedition (the SCOTIA EXPEDITION).

While in his early twenties, Jean-Baptiste purchased his first yacht, the COURLIS. Later, he traded the 26-foot boat for a larger vessel, the POURQUOI-PAS?. In 1893, Jean-Baptiste's father passed away, leaving him a considerable fortune of 400,000 gold francs. In 1896, Jean-Baptiste married the granddaughter of the famous poet and novelist Victor Hugo, but the marriage was soon in trouble as his wife didn't share the same passion for scientific exploration.

He continued his medical practice but soon turned his attention to the construction of a new vessel which was to be used on a scientific expedition to Greenland. He used his inheritance to contract the well-known shipwright, Gauthier, to build a three-masted schooner, the FRANÇAIS. She was a beautiful ship, built entirely of oak and only the best materials, measuring 150-feet in length and 25-feet in the beam. Charcot contacted Adrien de Gerlache for advice and assistance with the construction. On his suggestion, the bow of the ship was reinforced and the hull strengthened at the waterline with transverse beams.

In the spring of 1903, news reached Europe that Otto Nordenskjöld and the ANTARCTIC were missing. Although his plans were to the north, Charcot immediately turned his attention to the south determined to assist in the search for the Swedish explorer. He wrote to his friend and supporter Paul Pléneau: "Instead of going North, we should go South! In the South we are certain to succeed, for very little exploration has been done... We have only to get there to achieve something great and fine". Charcot asked his friend to help him and Pléneau, a director of an engineering company, responded, "Where you like. When you like. For as long as you like".

The high cost of construction of the ship depleted the financial resources of Charcot. The doctor-turned-explorer now turned to the nation to help finance the expedition, all in the name of France. He managed to gain the support of the Academie des Sciences, the Societe de Geographie and the Museum of Natural History. But it was the Paris newspaper, Le Matin which published his plans and raised 150,000 francs for "The French Antarctic Expedition". Other private contributions rolled in which left Charcot with a working fund of 450,000 francs. President Emile Loubet gave his stamp of approval to the expedition and the plans were set: take the FRANÇAIS to Antarctic waters, explore the west coast of Graham Land from the north, venture south to Adelaide Island and, if possible, Alexander Island, charting the coastline and gathering

botanical, zoological, hydrographic and meteorological data along the way. Charcot's sponsors also required him to determine whether Antarctica was a continent or a group of small islands, surrounded by ice.

The weather was stormy as the FRANÇAIS prepared to leave Le Havre on August 15, 1903. On board were Paul Pléneau and the Belgian explorer, Adrien de Gerlache. A sailor, named Maignan, was handling the stern rope when the vessel suddenly tore loose from it's cleat; the large stern rope struck Maignan and killed him instantly. The FRANÇAIS sadly gave up her attempt to leave and would not try again until August 27. Finally underway, the FRANÇAIS stopped briefly at Madeira and then tracked south-south-west to the port of Pernambuco in Brazil. The voyage took two months and after arriving in Brazil, Adrien de Gerlache told Charcot of his desire to return to Belgium as his heart was with his financée and not with the expedition. Charcot sadly capitulated and continued on to Buenos Aires, arriving on November 16. Here news reached Charcot that Nordenskjöld had been rescued and the ANTARCTIC crushed in the ice. The Swedish and Norwegian explorers arrived in Buenos Aires in December and soon were invited to visit Charcot and the FRANÇAIS. Otto Nordenskjöld was impressed with the Frenchmans' plans and gifted him with five Greenland huskies.

Two scientists, Turquet and Gourdon, came aboard the ship and the FRANÇAIS left Buenos Aires on December 23. A month later they arrived at Orange Harbor, at the southern tip of Tierra del Fuego, and on January 27, 1904, set sail once again for the south. By February 1 they were in the South Shetlands, where they saw the first icebergs. For the next few days they coasted along the northwest shore of the Palmer Archipelago and on February 5 the engine began to give them trouble. The boiler pipes ruptured which created an immediate drop in pressure. With propeller jerking, Charcot was able to ease the FRANÇAIS through the icebergs and into Biscoe Bay off Cape Errera. On February 7 the weather improved to where she could make a run for Flanders Bay. She remained there for eleven days as the engineers sealed the pipes and repaired the boiler. On February 19 the FRANÇAIS reached an inlet at Wiencke Island Charcot named Port Lockroy, after the Minister of Marine. When they attempted to go south, more ice blocked them and further engine trouble developed. Charcot wrote, "Millions of tiny, hard snow crystals penetrate our skin and eyes like fine needles, causing horrible pain". They fought on and reached 65°5'S, 64°W, as far south as de Gerlache and a degree farther south than Nordenskjöld had reached. It was here, in a shallow bay on the north coast of Wandel (now Booth) Island, that Charcot decided to wait out the winter.

The FRANÇAIS at Booth Island A number of structures were built on the island to accommodate the crew and scientific instruments. Supplies of coal, fuel, roofing beams, cement pillars and marble slabs were offloaded from the FRANÇAIS as the crew made preparations for the coming winter. A series of small holes were dug along the shoreline to provide water in case of a fire aboard the ship. By early April, scientific studies were at their peak: Lieutenant Matha and Rallier du Baty were busy with astronomical and topographical observations; Turquet was busy collecting zoological samples; the geologist, Gourdon, was classifying minerals and rocks; Pléneau worked on the engine and a photographic record of the expedition.

The men worked hard during those first days of winter and Charcot knew quite well that in order to remain productive, the men should be given as much privacy as possible. After all, tempers could grow quite short as the men bunked aboard the FRANÇAIS. The bunks were each equipped with a sliding door and curtained cubicles contained

wash basins of which the lids could serve as writing desks. Charcot provided a choice of meals from a menu, along with a daily ration of wine and rum. Old newspaper stories were discussed between the men and lectures were given but despite all the efforts to combat boredom, the winter nights became very long indeed. Charcot, creative as he was, came up with a plan to have an "Antarctic" picnic. At 10:30 am on May 30, all those who could be spared from the FRANÇAIS set off for Hovgaard Island on a picnic! Charcot wrote, "We had to break up the meat and butter with axes...An hour and a half later I was able to produce a fine Polar meal, though we had to eat very quickly, dancing about all the time to keep our feet warm".

Winter set in and everything became cold to the touch. The men wrapped themselves in clothes as the temperature dropped to -36°F and the FRANÇAIS froze in. During one of the trips ashore, Rallier du Baty and three other sailors became lost in the fog. A search party found the men suffering from frostbite and exposure. On board the ship, Lieutenant Matha contracted myocarditis. Charcot applied a treatment recommended by de Gerlache and by September Matha was back on his feet and performing his duties.

On November 24 the whaleboat was loaded with camping equipment, 20 days' rations, scientific instruments and a sledge. The plan was to go from Petermann Island (10 miles away) to the Graham Land coast. Petermann Island was reached despite the need to break up ice along the way. Unfortunately, the stretch between Petermann Island and the shoreline of Graham Land was packed too tight with ice for the whaleboat to be used. To make matters worse, the ice was too thin to support the men's weight. Faced with an enormous challenge, the men put forth a superhuman effort to pull the heavily laden boat through the ice. Standing outside the boat in freezing water up to their knees, the men agonized 10 to 18 hours per day for five gut-wrenching days before reaching the mainland. Despite wearing dark glasses, many of the men suffered from snow-blindness, described by Charcot as "a handful of pepper in the eyes". They eventually managed to climb the 2900-foot crest of Cape Tuxen and spent a week surveying the Graham Land coast between Booth Island and the Biscoe Islands to the south.

By the middle of December the southerly winds cleared much of the ice from the bay. The men worked diligently at creating a channel through the ice from which the FRANÇAIS could escape. The engine still wasn't working properly but, nevertheless, was sufficient to drive the vessel. With a path clear to the sea, the men celebrated Christmas--Charcot took the gramophone ashore to play popular music for the penguin colony! Presents, brought from home, were exchanged and opened; the following day the FRANÇAIS weighed anchor.

They forced their way through the pack ice, skirting the Biscoe Islands, and navigated the channel between Adelaide Island and the Loubet Coast. On January 13, 1905, Alexander Island, 60 miles to the south, presented itself in all it's glory. Later that day, Charcot wrote, "We were about a mile from land when, passing approximately a cable's length from a large tabular iceberg more than 150 feet high, the ship received a terrible shock, the bow rearing almost vertically". The ship had struck a rock and water was now flooding in. The engine was running so poorly that the pumps had to be operated by hand. The engineer, Libois, lowered himself into the water in the bow and spent several hours working on the damaged hull. The weather was worsening so Charcot was left with no other option than turning north to seek shelter. Abandoning plans for further exploration, the men worked 45 minutes out of every hour, day and night, with fingers freezing to pump handles in their attempt to reach Port Lockroy, on Wiencke Island. They reached Wiencke Island on January 29 and made repairs over the next ten days. On February 15, the FRANÇAIS skirted Smith Island in the South Shetlands and then struggled on to reach the sanctuary of Puerto Madryn at Tierra del Fuego. While there, Charcot learned that his wife was concerned for his safety and had attempted to organize a rescue mission---she also

decided to divorce him on grounds of desertion.

They were warmly welcomed in Buenos Aires, where all the ships in the port "dressed" in their honor. The FRANÇAIS went into dry-dock and upon inspection was discovered to have a 24-foot rip in the false keel. The Argentinean Government offered to buy her, for use as a supply ship, and since the offer was too good to refuse, Charcot quickly consented. Charcot, the crew and 75 crates of scientific results departed Buenos Aires on May 5, 1905 aboard the liner ALGERIE. It would be several months before the results of the expedition would be published but France was already aware that she had a new hero: Commandant Charcot. Almost 620 miles of coasts and islands had been sketched and charted; a map was produced which, with corrections made by Charcot's POURQUOI-PAS? Expedition three years later, remained the only accurate map for the next quarter of a century.

 Departing Havre, August 15, 1908

Without a doubt, the success of the FRANÇAIS Expedition only fueled Dr. Charcot's appetite for a return to the Antarctic to complete his works. His work? It is best described in Charcot's own words:

"I resolved to return to the region which I had begun to explore on the FRANÇAIS in 1903-05, i.e. that mountainous projection, due south of Cape Horn, which seems as if it had once been a continuation of America and is improperly known under the general name of Graham Land. There I should be able to continue the researches of the FRANÇAIS (themselves considered so valuable) in all branches of science, and to verify, complete, and expand them. To the south, Graham Land came to an abrupt end in 67° of latitude. Beyond, Alexander I Land rose amid the ice, scarcely visible and never yet approached. Was it a solitary island or part of a continent? West of it an unknown zone stretched as far as King Edward VII Land.

The BELGICA, carried along by the drift, was able to make some interesting soundings in part of this zone, but the work required continuing as far as possible westward, where nothing had been made out except by some geographers. Had we any right to go on calling by the name of the 'Antarctic Continent' this portion of our globe where the only indications of land to which we could point were two isolated peaks at a distance from one another? My exact object was to study in detail and from all points of view as wide a stretch as possible of the Antarctic in this sector of the circle, regardless of latitude. I knew that I had chosen the region where ice confronts the navigator as far north as 61°, where innumerable icebergs dot the sea, and where the coast-line is fringed with high mountains, to all appearance insurmountable. I had no hope therefore of approaching the Pole."

Jean Charcot had given a great deal of thought to this new expedition even before the end of the FRANÇAIS expedition. Upon returning to France, Charcot was encouraged by the satisfaction the scientists showed with the results achieved in Antarctica. He submitted a plan to the Academy of Sciences who formed a special committee and quickly approved his new program. The Museum and the Oceanographical Institute also approved which only helped solidify his financial request to the government. As expected, the French government, through the Budget of the Ministry of Public Instruction, agreed to a vote of 600,000 francs in financial aid. Later, another 100,000 francs were donated, including 10,000 francs from the Geographical Society of Paris along with grants from the Museum, the Paris Municipal Council and the Chambers of Commerce of several large French cities. The Ministry of Marine placed three naval officers under Charcot's direction and promised 250 tons of coal. Additionally, all necessary instruments, maps and documents were provided by the Surveying Department. The Prince of Monaco offered the expedition a complete oceanographical outfit. The scientific arsenal was one of the richest and most complete ever carried by a polar expedition as gifts poured in from the Museum, the Bureau des Longitudes, the Montsouris Observatory, the Meteorological Department, the Agronomic Institute and the Pasteur Institute.

While the scientific crew enjoyed themselves on the yachts of the Prince of Monaco, Charcot searched to find a ship as he considered it the most important factor in the expedition. His first idea was to repurchase the FRANÇAIS (since renamed the AUSTRAL) from the Argentine government. Unfortunately, the vessel was already being prepared for use in the South Orkneys. Next, with the aid of a close friend, Charcot tried to purchase a whaler, either in Scotland or Norway. All they could find were ancient vessels in dire need of

considerable alterations. Abandoning the search, the men turned to Père Gautier, the masterful shipbuilder from St. Malo who had been so successful in the matter of the FRANÇAIS. Gautier was so enthused by the opportunity before him that he presented Charcot with a very modest estimate; construction of the POURQUOI-PAS? began in September 1907 and was launched on May 18, 1908. Her rigging was that of a three-masted barque and her masts, sturdy but short, had been selected at heavy expense among the finest specimens in Brest Arsenal. Everything was made about three times as strong as on an ordinary ship of the same tonnage. The powerful ribs were brought very close together. Two very thick plankings covered the ribs, protected themselves from the wear and tear of the ice by an exterior sheathing. An interior planking, caulked and coal-tarred, made an extra interior hull. Other than the bilge, which was built from elm, the whole ship was constructed from the finest oak. The engine was built by Labrosse and Fouché of Nantes and produced 450 horsepower. She was a beauty.

The second French Antarctic Expedition left Le Havre on August 15, 1908. She was complemented with twenty-two crewmembers, eight of whom had served aboard the FRANÇAIS. Also aboard was Charcot's young wife Meg, whom he had married on January 24, 1907. On October 12, the POURQUOI-PAS? arrived at Rio de Janeiro. Gifts were showered upon them and similar greetings met them as they later arrived in Buenos Aires. Madame Charcot stayed with the POURQUOI-PAS? until she reached Punta Arenas. Here she said good-bye to her husband and began the long, lonely journey back to France. The ship left Punta Arenas on December 16 and arrived six days later at Smith Island, in the South Shetlands. From here they sailed around the island and continued southeast until they reached Deception Island. Greeting them was a thriving colony of Norwegian whaling ships. The shore of the bay was littered with skeletons and carcasses of their catch. The Norwegians were very happy to finally have the opportunity to personally thank him for his wonderful charts of the northern coast of Graham Land peninsula; they were using them in their search for new whaling grounds. They were also pleased to have a doctor in their midst as Charcot saved a sailor from gangrene by amputating his hand. Charcot left Deception Island and the Norwegian whalers on Christmas Day, 1908.

On December 29 the POURQUOI-PAS? reached Booth Island and anchored in the bay where the FRANÇAIS had wintered in 1904. Charcot went ashore and discovered that almost everything had remained as he had left it: "I feel as though I've never been away". An exceptional harbor was located at Peterson Island on January 1, 1909 and Charcot named it Port Circumcision in honor of the great French explorer Jean-Baptiste Charles Bouvet de Lozier.

Three days later, at 5 PM, Charcot, the geologist Gourdon and Lieutenant Godfrey set out in the ship's launch to take a look around the coast near Cape Tuxen. They remembered their previous five-day struggle, during the FRANÇAIS Expedition, to cross the channel between Petermann Island and the coast but threw caution to the wind and left behind extra rations and a change of clothes since they intended to be away only a short time and, besides, the water was free of ice. They studied the coastline and the nearby Bertholet Islands for a possible route to the south. Once their observations were completed, the men sat down to a meal and, once completed, started on the return to the ship. It was 10 PM and snow began to fall. The channel was no longer open as each narrow pathway was blocked by freezing floes. Time and time again they tried to force their way through but each time the pack ice formed around them quickly and silently. The sea was calm but the snow turned into sleet which soon soaked the men to the core. The motor became clogged and when Lieutenant Godfroy hacked at the ice with a spade, he soon gazed in horror as the spade slipped from his numb hands and drifted to its resting place at the bottom. Three days and nights went by before the men were discovered. Charcot wrote, "We all shouted together...We heard shouts of joy and saw the POURQUOI-PAS? approaching through the fog and snow. What a wonderful sight it was!" Less than 24 hours later, Charcot, Gourdon and Godfroy were still talking about their

miraculous rescue when history repeated itself: the POURQUOI-PAS?, like the FRANÇAIS before her, had ran aground. Pieces of the hull were torn away and floated to the surface. The stern deck was under water as the bow remained pinned down from the heavy weight of the anchors and chains.

Charcot ordered everything to be moved from the bow to amidships or lowered into the boats. The engine was fortunately not damaged so it was hoped the POURQUOI-PAS? could be floated off the rocks at the next high tide. With a long, slow grinding of stone, metal and wood, the ship tore free. She retreated to the harbor at Petermann Island where efforts were made to repair the damage. She had been so well constructed that only superficial damage had resulted and what little water seeped in later was easily handled by the automatic pumps.

Further exploration took place prior to establishing winter quarters. Near the end of January, 1909, the POURQUOI-PAS? crossed the Antarctic Circle and sailed the length of Adelaide Island. Prior to this charting, the island was said to be only eight miles in length but, as it turned out, it was actually over 70 miles long.

The men charted every section of coastline that appeared before them. They entered a large bay, south of Adelaide Island, mapped the islands at it's mouth and named it Marguerite Bay after Charcot's wife Meg. At the end of January, the ship was directed to the harbor of Port Circumcision, at Petermann Island, where the crew made winter camp.

It took nearly a month to offload all the scientific instruments. The men built four huts on the western shore of the inlet; each was lighted by electricity, the wires strung on bamboo poles between the POURQUOI-PAS? and the huts. The men stretched three double-strength iron-wire hawsers across the inlet in order to protect the ship from icebergs entering the bay. The ship was secured with chains and all available deck space was roofed and walled with canvas. The men needed routine breaks and on February 23 Mardi-Gras was celebrated: Liouville, the zoologist, shaved off his beard and painted his nose red while Gourdon and the botanist Gain disguised themselves as Arabs.

By March, 1909, the Antarctic autumn had ended. Icebergs were already straining the hawsers as the POURQUOI-PAS? jerked at her anchors. By April the storms had returned, temperatures dropped and snow fell heavily. To keep the mens' spirits up, Charcot and his assistants offered courses in grammar, geography, English and navigation while Liouville gave lectures in first aid. Some 1500 books were available for reading and Charcot issued a daily copy of Le Matin. Of greatest interest was Lieutenant Rouche's attempt at writing a romantic novel, on a bet, entitled L'Amant de la Dactylographe--The Typist's Lover. The men enjoyed listening to each new chapter which Rouche read aloud. Outdoor recreation was offered by the founding of the Antarctic Sporting Club. A track was marked out on one of the lower slopes of the inlet so that ski and sledge races could be held; tin can medals were awarded to the winners. Meanwhile, Commander Charcot became ill with polar anemia. His legs became badly swollen and his lungs struggled as each painful breath was taken. The weather became too extreme so all excursions came to a halt. Charcot wrote, "Our life on board goes on, busy yet monotonous. But if the months seem to pass quickly, the hours are long".

On September 18, 1909, an expedition was sent to Graham Land. Charcot was still to sick to join it but by mid-October he made his first journey from the ship. On October 31, the men started loading the scientific equipment aboard the ship. Once everything was aboard, the POURQUOI-PAS? sailed for the Norwegian colony on Deception Island to resupply their diminishing coal reserves, arriving on November 27. Here they received good news: Ernest Shackleton, earlier in 1909, had gotten within 180 km of the South Pole; in April the North Pole had been reached by the American Robert E. Peary; a fellow Frenchman, Louis Blériot, had made the first powered flight across the English Channel.

The Norwegians offered Charcot the services of a diver who descended and inspected the damaged hull of the POURQUOI-PAS?. It was soon discovered that a large section of the keel had been torn away. The Norwegians all agreed that if the ship and expedition was to survive, they should make for home immediately. Charcot would have no part of this as he felt his nation's honor, as well as his personal reputation, was at stake. So, on January 7, 1910, the POURQUOI-PAS? once again sailed south. Three days later they crossed the 69th parallel. They sighted Alexander I Land (Alexander Island) and something

beyond. Charcot climbed to the crow's nest and "to everyone's surprise, contradicting my previous orders, I commanded the helmsman to change course. To avoid drawing attention to myself, I descended and ate a quick lunch, then climbed to the crow's nest again, this time taking my binoculars. There is not the slightest doubt. Those are not mere icebergs that point their peaks toward the sky, but land, new land, clearly visible and a land that is our own!". They sailed westwards and on January 11, 1910, Charcot claimed discovery of an unknown land within the Antarctic Circle. Situated at 70°S, 76°W, Charcot named the new discovery Charcot Land, not after himself but after his father. Try as they might to approach it, the ice prevented them from getting any closer. Fearing further damage to the ship, Charcot simply sailed in a wide arc to the west. They explored the coastline to 124°W and on January 22 turned for South America. On February 11, 1910, she arrived at Punta Arenas. From here she continued north and by early June Charcot and the POURQUOI-PAS? had crossed the Atlantic Ocean. She sailed up the Seine River on June 4 and at precisely 2 o'clock on June 5, escorted by two torpedo boats sent to meet her by Admiral Boué de la Peyrère, Minister of Marine, she reached Rouen.

The results of the second French Antarctic Expedition were impressive. A total of 1250 miles of coastline and newly discovered territory had been surveyed. Maps created from this expedition were so precise that they were still being used twenty-five years later by sealers and whalers. Enough scientific data was collected to fill 28 volumes, illustrated with some of the 3000 photographs taken during the expedition. The Polar historian, Edwin Swift Balch, wrote that Charcot's explorations "occupy a place in the front rank of the most important Antarctic expeditions. No one has surpassed him and few have equaled him as a leader and as a scientific observer". Robert Falcon Scott referred to Charcot as "the gentleman of the Pole".

Following his work in the Antarctic, Charcot went on to command a Q-boat in Britain's Royal Navy during World War I. His conduct was courageous and earned him a Distinguished Service Cross. On the night of September 15, 1936, the POURQUOI-PAS? met her demise as she went to the bottom during a storm off the coast of Iceland. There were 44 men aboard; only one survived. The Captain, Jean-Baptiste Charcot, went down with the ship. Commander Charcot---gentleman, explorer, scientist, doctor, philosopher---was truly a great man.

William S. Bruce1867-1921

William Speirs Bruce was a young Scotsman when first introduced to the great southern reaches. His introduction came on a British whaling expedition to the Falkland Islands and vicinity in 1892-93. Four ships set forth from Dundee on this pioneering Scottish whaling reconnaissance: the ACTIVE, commanded by Thomas Robertson, the DIANA, commanded by Robert Davidson, the POLAR STAR, commanded by James Davidson, and the BALAENA, commanded by Alexander Fairweather. While in the Antarctic region, Bruce (aboard the BALAENA) and Charles W. Donald (aboard the ACTIVE) undertook scientific work in the Joinville Island group and northern Trinity Peninsula. The expedition actually met up with Carl Larsen and the crew of the JASON near Joinville Island. Bruce's desire and passion for further scientific work among the ice was now firmly in place.

William Bruce's love of oceanography continued to grow and his next opportunity for Antarctic research surfaced in 1900 when Robert Scott approached him to participate, as the naturalist, in the forthcoming DISCOVERY EXPEDITION. Bruce turned down the offer, not because of his tremendous Scottish pride, but rather for his lack of interest with any expedition in which the primary goal was to attain something

as sensational as the South Pole. Besides, Bruce wanted to lead his own expedition.

 The British government would have no part in the financing of this scientific expedition and this made Bruce more determined than ever to fund the entire program through his own efforts in Scotland. Two Scottish brothers, the Coats, made the initial deposit of £11,000. In 1901 Bruce was able to purchase a Norwegian whaler and have her refitted in a Scottish shipyard. Renamed the SCOTIA, she was placed under the command of his old friend Thomas Robertson, commander of the ACTIVE from the Scottish whaling expedition of 1892-93. Bruce assembled an impressive group of scientists as preparations were now in full swing. Joining him and the crew of 25 were a zoologist, botanist, taxidermist, meteorologist, geologist (who doubled as a medical officer), bacteriologist and a bagpipe player who worked as a laboratory assistant. The primary objective of the expedition was to do extensive hydrographic work in the Weddell Sea during the summer of 1903 and 1904 and to survey the South Orkney Islands and study their wildlife.

The SCOTIA departed from Troon on November 2, 1902 and reached the Falkland Islands on January 6, 1903 where she stayed for three weeks. Sailing south, the SCOTIA arrived in the South Orkneys on February 3 and the next day landed on Saddle Island, the first to do so since Dumont d'Urville in 1838. From here the progress was quite slow and it was not until they reached the area of South Thule Island, in the South Sandwich Islands, that they could even entertain the thought of venturing further south. By February 22 she had forced her way to 70°25'S, 17°12'W. Unfortunately, the temperature suddenly fell to 14°F and she became stuck in the ice. Any thoughts of continuing south were promptly abandoned. She finally worked her way free but after six days she had only made another half a degree of latitude to the north. Progress continued at a miserable rate and with it any thoughts of finding open water for an escape route. They decided to search for a wintering place and after several more uncomfortable days at sea they found a protected bay on the south side of Laurie Island in the South Orkneys. The bay (later named Scotia Bay) became their wintering hideaway as within three days the bay filled with pack ice and a few days later was completely frozen over.

Everyone began to work from the moment the anchor was set. A snowbank was built around the ship to protect her from the weather; ashore a 12-foot stone cairn was built as a reference point for their survey work; a wooden magnetic observatory was erected on one side of the cairn and a stone hut on the other; fish traps were laid and bird skinning undertaken. Extensive studies of what wildlife remained in the area would be another project for the winter months ahead. Despite having plenty to do, the men found time to relax by climbing to the top of a nearby glacier and skiing down.

The temperatures were bitterly cold at times but small parties were sent out to the land for short periods from July onwards where they carried out extensive botanical and meteorological studies along with a great deal of survey work. A typical day of research is best described by Dr. Pirie, the ship's medical officer, who participated in an eight-day study at Delta Island on the eastern edge of Scotia Bay:

"Soon after nine we sallied forth with the sounding apparatus, measuring line, and prismatic compass for surveying...""About thirty soundings we found as much as could be done in a day: each involved cutting a hole through ice at least thirty inches thick, often rather more..."Lunch was taken out on the floe: this consisted of biscuit, butter (which was quite hard and crumbly),

cheese, a stick of chocolate, and a pipe..."Dusk at six found us once more back in camp. The two lucky ones snugged down in their sacks, while the third cooked dinner. This meal consisted of more biscuit, thawed meat, and a large mug of tea. How the thoughts of that hot tea kept us going all day! The recollection of it is the strongest I have of our camping-out experiences--how both hands having clasped the cup so as not to lose any heat, the warm glow gradually spread and spread, till at last even the toes felt warm ere the cup was drained. Truly it was a cup that cheered. The day's work was then plotted out by the light of a guttering candle, and a pipe and chat passed away an hour ere we wooed the drowsy god. The moisture from our breaths and from the cooking stove of course condensed as snow on the walls of the tent, and a considerable amount found its way into our sacks. This gave us a good deal of thawing to do in bed; but notwithstanding that and the howling wind which sometimes threatened to carry the whole tent away, we slept the sleep of the just."

The spring of 1903 found the SCOTIA still held fast by the ice as a plethora of wildlife arrived providing much-needed fresh seal meat and eggs. The snow surrounding the ship was cleared away and the men now attempted to blast a channel through the ice to open water. Despite using gunpowder, progress was slow since the ice was 15 to 20 feet thick in spots. Eventually a wind came in from the northeast and helped break up the ice to the extent that the ship was finally freed on November 22, 1903. A party of six men were left ashore as the SCOTIA headed north on November 27 for refitting and a round of negotiations with the Argentinean government. She stayed briefly in Port Stanley, Falkland Islands, and arrived in Buenos Aires on Christmas Eve. The Scots negotiated with the Argentinean government to assume responsibility for continued meteorological studies at their winter quarters, named Omond House, on Laurie Island. The SCOTIA had three Argentineans aboard as she set sail for Laurie Island.

Meanwhile, extensive scientific studies on penguins were undertaken by the crew left behind at Laurie Island. When the SCOTIA arrived, the three Argentineans were left at Omond House along with meteorologist R. C. Mossman and the cook as the rest departed on its second attempt at entering the Weddell Sea.

The Antarctic Circle was crossed at 32°W longitude. The pack ice did not present itself a problem until, on the morning of March 3 at a latitude of 72°18'S, she became firmly held in its grasp. They took a sounding and discovered they were at a depth only half that assumed so Thomas Robertson climbed to the crow's nest and to everyone's surprise reported land in the distance. They finally freed themselves and the SCOTIA slowly inched her way further south until coming upon a huge ice shelf stretching in a northeasterly / southwesterly direction. They followed it southwest for 150 miles over the next ten days, taking soundings all along the way, but were never able to reach closer than 2 miles. The soundings confirmed that they had discovered a stretch of land previously unknown to mankind. They had no way of knowing if it was an island or the continent but Bruce guessed correctly when he declared it an extension of Enderby Land. He promptly named it Coats Land in honor of the two Scottish brothers who were so instrumental in the funding of the expedition. While following the new stretch of land, the SCOTIA was nearly crushed in the ice when a huge storm developed and pushed her three feet out of the water right onto the ice. When the storm died down, they discovered they had been pushed into a bight in the ice and were now at a latitude of 74°01'S proving that James Weddell, some 80 years earlier, was unlucky indeed not to have discovered the continent just to the west.

But their attention was now turned to the possibility and fear of having to spend another winter in the Antarctic. As Pirie wrote afterwards, "Had not the mental horizon been somewhat cloudy, nothing could have been finer than our situation. The air was calm, crisp, and beautifully clear,

from the crow's nest one could see to the north only huge bergs--ice mast-high going floating by--and pack-ice, with every here and there a black dot where a seal or a penguin lay. To the south lay the Great Barrier, sublime and mysterious, inclining one to be in pensive mood brooding over its awful silent loneliness; but the hum of voices from the deck below, or the shouts ascending from the large floe nearby, which served for the nonce as a football field, soon brought the wandering thoughts back to the worries of our microcosmos, stranded on the edge of the chaos of ice". Fortunately, on March 12 the wind came up from the southwest and the ice began to break up which, by evening, freed the SCOTIA once again.

Robertson set out on a northeasterly course and after further soundings taken at 68°32'S, 12°49'W, evidence gathered clearly proved that James Clark Ross was mistaken all those years ago when he declared no bottom at 4000 fathoms (bringing into question whether or not the Ross Deep even existed). With land so close by, Bruce knew he would find bottom and indeed they did at 2600 fathoms. With this the final objective, the ship turned for home.

On July 15, 1904 the SCOTIA dropped anchor in Kingstown Harbor, Northern Ireland. She was greeted by a cheering group of local inhabitants as well as from the press and the Coats brothers who were there in their yacht to meet them. Guns were fired, foghorns blared and a congratulatory telegram arrived from the King.

R. C. Mossman, the cook and the three Argentineans left behind on Laurie Island carried on a great deal of scientific and meteorological work. Before the winter of 1904 arrived they built a wall in front of Omond House to help protect them from the fierce storms coming in off the bay.

On April 3 hurricane-force winds hit them hard which destroyed all their work and severely punished Omond House. As Mossmon wrote, "Every wave we thought would give the finishing stroke and to all appearance there was little hope of the southern half of the house standing...We rapidly collected clothing, bedding, documents, and some other necessary articles, which were placed in the storeroom, and vacated the building. The tents were taken over to the highest point of the north beach as a precautionary measure, but owing to the strong wind could not be pitched. Soon after eight o'clock we gathered together in the magnetic hut, where we awaited the apparently inevitable demolition of the southern half of the house with a composure due doubtless to the numbing effect of the unexpected situation. Everyone was soaked to the skin". Fortunately the storm relented and no further damage occurred. The party survived during the long winter months until the URUGUAY arrived on New Year's Eve.

Omond House, Laurie Island Omond House was eventually taken over by the Argentineans when the last of the Scottish party departed the island in January 1905. A rotating crew has been present ever since and this lonely outpost is the oldest continuous meteorological observatory in Antarctica.

The first oceanographical expedition of the Weddell Sea can clearly be attributed to the Scottish National Antarctic Expedition. Besides the Falkland Islands, Gough Island and Tristan da Cunha were also visited by this expedition and cinematographic films and sound recordings taken.

Primarily with his own money, William Bruce set up the Scottish Oceanographical Laboratory in 1907. He made seven visits to Spitsbergen and became the expert on the area. In 1915-16 he managed a whaling station in , of all places, the Seychelles but hated the tropics and was thrilled to return home. Bruce was a quiet, private man with his only passion being that of his scientific studies; public relations efforts were not his cup of tea. William Bruce died in 1921 after a long illness and his ashes were strewn over the Antarctic waters.

Otto Nordenskjöld1869-1928

Dr. Otto Nordenskjöld, a Swedish geologist, led one of the most fascinating and incredulous journeys ever attempted to the Antarctic regions. The Germans, under the command of Erich von Drygalski (the GAUSS EXPEDITION) and the British, under the command of Robert Falcon Scott (the DISCOVERY EXPEDITION) were in the final stages of their respective plans for research south of the Pacific and Indian Oceans as the 32-year old Nordenskjöld completed preparations for his expedition to the southern reaches. Seven other scientists along with 16 officers and men made the voyage south. The command was placed under an experienced Antarctic explorer, Captain Carl Anton Larsen , who had commanded the JASON during a whaling reconnaissance mission in 1892-93 as far south as 64°40'S into the Weddell Sea. A young geographer-geologist-anthropologist, named Dr. Gunnar Andersson, was going to join the ship at the Falkland Islands and assume leadership after Nordenskjöld's group was dropped off at their wintering station. Plans then called for the ANTARCTIC and it's remaining crew to carry out research in the region during the summer and fall before returning the following year to pick up Nordenskjöld and his men. A good plan but one that went terribly wrong.

The ANTARCTIC left Gothenburg on October 16, 1901 and arrived at Buenos Aires on December 15. It was here that the expedition was joined by an American artist, F. W. Stokes, and an Argentinean naval officer, Lieutenant J. M. Sobral. The Argentinean government offered

Nordenskjöld free food, fuel and help if their officer could join the wintering party...an offer too good to refuse. The ship left for the southern latitudes on December 21 and arrived in the South Shetlands on January 11, 1902. They landed, spending a short time on one of the islands, and then proceeded on south to explore the Orléans Strait. Nordenskjöld wrote in his diary, "We were now sailing a sea across which none had hitherto voyaged. The weather had changed as if by magic; it seemed as though the Antarctic world repented of the inhospitable way in which it had received us the previous day, or, maybe, it merely wished to entice us deeper into its interior in order the more surely to annihilate us. At all events, we pressed onward, seized by that almost feverish eagerness which can only be felt by an explorer who stands upon the threshold of the great unknown".

Soon Nordenskjöld made what he considered to be his most important geographical discovery of the expedition: contrary to popular belief, they soon saw that Louis-Philippe Land was connected to Danco Land and that the Orléans Strait ran into Gerlache Strait. He wanted to continue on but time was short so they turned around and headed back until the sound between Louis-Philippe Land and Joinville Island was reached. French explorer Dumont d'Urville originally discovered the sound but since no ship had ever sailed through, he named it after the ANTARCTIC. Once they made it across the sound, they landed on Paulet Island and from there crossed Erebus and Terror Gulf and made a depot on Seymour Island. The ship then steamed southwest towards the unexplored region of eastern Oscar II Land Coast. They made it as far as 60°10'S before running into a line of ice. They followed it eastwards until reaching 63°30'S, 45°7'W on February 1 at which time the ship was forced to turn back. By February 9 they spotted land again and for his winter campsite Nordenskjöld chose Snow Hill Island, southwest of Seymour Island. He and five others were put ashore with equipment, supplies and sledge dogs after which the ANTARCTIC headed north for the Falklands.

The first project the men completed was a small magnetic observatory which served as shelter until the prefabricated hut could be built. A group of strong storms rocked the camp which gave them an idea of what was to come. By the beginning of March the weather had started to improve. Nordenskjöld made a number of trips by boat and dog sledge to establish depots. When spring arrived, Nordenskjöld, Sobral and seaman Jonassen set off for the eastern part of Oscar II Coast again with the men towing one sledge and the dogs the other. On a good day they could travel 30 miles but this was the exception as the terrain was filled with crevasses, one of which nearly cost Nordenskjöld his life. They finally reached their goal as Nordenskjöld wrote, "We did not make much ado about choosing our camping-ground (October 18) but pitched our tent on the ice at the foot of a projecting, brown, weather-worn, rocky headland, torn by the frost into a mass of mighty blocks. The reader can easily imagine with what feelings I hurried forward to these rocks, the first spot trodden by human foot on the whole of the eastern coast of the mainland of West Antarctica". Bad weather hounded them, Jonassen hurt his arm, the tent was torn to shreds in a storm and the dogs found their sack of food which they promptly ate, consuming it all along with part of the sack, some harness and the whip; it was time to go home. The three men made it back to winter quarters on October 31 having covered 380 miles in 33 days.

Lieutenant José Sobral

By the end of November the sea ice had still not broken up. In early December Nordenskjöld made a sledge journey to Seymour Island and made some important fossil discoveries but heavy on his mind was the fact that the sea ice was not breaking up and the ship was no where in sight. The ship had been expected any day in January and February yet still she didn't show up and their fate was sealed on February 18 when a storm came in from the south and froze the sea completely over. The men were depressed, to say the least, at the prospects of spending another cold winter in the damp, cramped winter quarters on Snow Hill Island.

When spring arrived, Nordenskjöld and Jonassen set off on another sledge trip, this time to discover whether the huge gulf they had found the previous year behind Cape Foster connected with the bay north of Cape Gordon. Good weather allowed them, within five days on the ice, to determine this to be true and they named the stretch of water the Crown Prince Gustav Channel. The men now made for a peak on Vega Island in order to get a better glimpse at the ice conditions in Erebus and Terror Gulf as they wanted to cross over to Paulet Island. As they approached the land, Jonassen spotted what he believed to be penguins. He took out his field glasses and was astonished to see that it was actually three men! When they met, Nordenskjöld described the three as "black as soot from top to toe; men with black clothes, black faces and high black caps, and with their eyes hidden by peculiar wooden frames...my powers of guessing fail me when I endeavour to imagine to what race of men these creatures belong". When they told him who they were he still didn't recognize them. They were Gunnar Andersson, Lieutenant Duse and Toralf Grunden and their story was incredible.

The Sinking of the ANTARCTICThe ANTARCTIC headed back to the Falklands after dropping Nordenskjöld and his party off at Snow Hill Island. They spent the winter of 1902 there and picked up Gunnar Andersson. They left the Falklands on November 5, 1902 for the return trip to pick up the wintering party. The first sign of trouble came on November 9, at a latitude of only 59°30'S, when pack ice was encountered. Within two days the ship was held tight. Carl Larsen was able to ram his way forward but on November 17 a storm hit that put the ANTARCTIC in jeopardy as Andersson wrote, "At 2:30 am on 21 November I was awakened by loud orders from the captain's bridge, and I dressed myself hurriedly and hastened on deck. Three or four ship's lengths on our larboard lay an iceberg which was considerably higher than our mainmast and about three times as long as the vessel...We were in evident danger of being carried by the pack which lay close around the ANTARCTIC, right on to the ice-mountain. To add to our difficulties we were in the midst of a blinding snowstorm. The engines were going full speed, and we had the jib and fore-sail set. For a long time the vessel moved slowly forward a few yards, only to be pressed back by the floes, but after a while the pieces of ice gave way before the united pressure of steam and sail, and the ANTARCTIC glided past the iceberg into the lead which had been formed in its lee". When the storm let up, the ship was able to move into open waters around the South Shetlands and eventually make landfall at Deception Island. After leaving Deception Island efforts were focused on an attempt to correctly chart the Orléans and Gerlache Straits since the BELGICA EXPEDITION, led by Adrien de Gerlache in 1898, had failed to do so. The charting was completed on December 5 and the ANTARCTIC then steamed for Antarctic Sound which would lead them to Nordenskjöld's winter quarters. Unfortunately, as the ship approached the sound, the lead between the ice became narrower and narrower and by the time the ship reached the vicinity of Mount Bransfield, the way was completely blocked. Andersson went ashore at Louis-Philippe Land in order to get a better look at the ice in the sound. Andersson reported back that Erebus and Terror Gulf was a complete sheet of ice but Larsen decided to try and ram his way through anyway. Many days later found them no better off. Larsen gave up on his idea and decided they would try to reach Nordenskjöld by sledge party. The ship finally broke free from the pack ice and Larsen headed once more for Antarctic Sound. On December 29 Andersson, Duse and Toralf Grunden were put ashore at Hope Bay. The men immediately established a depot for the wintering party in case the ship was not able to reach the winter quarters. They then set off on the 200-mile journey to Snow Hill Island. Larsen and the rest of the men on the ANTARCTIC tried again to make their way to the southeast. She was still caught in the pack ice as a fierce storm blew her southwards... first bow first, then sideways, then stern first. This event continued until they reached the vicinity of Paulet Island. In his diary on January 10, 1903, scientist Carl Skottsberg wrote, "During the afternoon the pressure on the sides of the vessel--which had begun yesterday--could scarcely be marked, but after dinner, just as we sat down to a hand at cards, the ship began to tremble like an aspen leaf, and a violent crash sent

us all up on deck to see what the matter was. The pressure was tremendous; the vessel rose higher and higher, while the ice was crushed to powder along her sides". The ship was able to rise above the pressure of the ice but later that night the ANTARCTIC began to list to starboard. Everyone prepared to abandon ship but fortunately the pumps were able to keep up with the leak. Nearly two weeks went by like this as the ship drifted southeastwards in the ice. On January 16 the ice opened up to the point where the ship was able to right herself and on February 3 the pressure from an ice floe at her bow shook the stern loose and for the first time in weeks she was afloat. Unfortunately, this only worsened the leak so in an act of desperation, Larsen decided to try and beach the ship on Paulet Island. By February 12 the ship had managed to drift into a large lead that had opened in the direction of Paulet Island. The engine was started and the sails hoisted in a furious attempt to reach the island. But, this only made the leak unmanageable and, as the water rose, the order was given to abandon ship. "We stand in a long row on the edge of the ice", wrote Skottsberg, "and cannot take our eyes off her...The pumps are still going, but the sound grows fainter and fainter...she is breathing her last. She sinks slowly deeper and deeper...Now the name disappears from sight. Now the water is up to the rail, and with a rattle, the sea and bits of ice rush in over her deck. That sound I can never forget, however long I may live. Now the blue and yellow colours are drawn down into the deep. The mizzen-mast strikes against the edge of our floe and is snapped off; the main-mast strikes and breaks; the crow's nest rattles against the ice-edge, and the streamer, with the name ANTARCTIC disappears in the waves. The bowsprit--the last mast-top---She is gone!" The ANTARCTIC sank 25 miles from Paulet Island and the shipwrecked party now began the nightmare journey to it across the ice.

arrangements for a rescue party if the ANTARCTIC had not returned by autumn. Even if this were accomplished the men knew they would be in for a very difficult winter ahead as there would simply be no possibility of a rescue ship making it through the sea ice this late in the season.

While the ANTARCTIC was trying to find a route to pick up Nordenskjöld and the others, Gunnar Andersson, Lt. Duse and Toralf Grunden's attempt to reach the winter quarters on foot was being compromised by their lack of knowledge of the geography of the area. After being put ashore, the men headed off in a south-southwesterly direction which, according to James Clark Ross's chart, would bring them to Sidney Herbert Sound. Unfortunately, instead of finding a continuation of land after their struggle across the eastern end of Louis-Philippe Land they found themselves at the frozen entrance of the Crown Prince Gustav Channel.

Andersson wrote, "We stand silent and perplexed and gaze at the new and wonderful scene. Mile upon mile of snowy plain, such as we have never seen before, meets our eyes. One can actually imagine that a gigantic snow-clad city lies before us, with houses, and palaces in thousands, and in hundreds of changing, irregular forms--towers and spires, and all the wonders of the world. At first sight it appears incomprehensible, but it must be, after all, a bay covered with a frozen-in mass of numberless icebergs". The men set off across the bay on skis for Vega Island and, after 15 hours, reached the island and set up camp. The men thought for certain they were on James Ross Island and therefore would soon be able to reach Admiralty Sound. They climbed a peak on the island and to their dismay discovered their way blocked by an expanse of open water which they immediately recognized as Sidney Herbert Sound. But....they could see open water to the south so they assumed the ANTARCTIC had experienced little difficulty reaching the winter quarters on Snow Hill Island that summer. This final reasoning sealed their fate for the coming winter. Before Larsen dropped Andersson and the other two men off at Hope Bay, plans had been made between them that entailed the following: whoever was the first to arrive at winter quarters on Snow Hill Island was to gather the winter party and make for a rendezvous with the trailing group back at Hope Bay. After seeing all the open water to the south of them, Andersson and his men took it for granted that the ANTARCTIC had already arrived at Snow Hill Island and were proceeding to Hope Bay to pick them up. They gave it no further thought and were back at their depot at Hope Bay on January 13 where they settled down to await arrival of the ship to pick them up.

But, those days turned into weeks and it finally occurred to them that something had gone terribly wrong. On February 11 they started building a winter hut made with stone walls to a height of the tallest man. The sledge, turned upside down, served as the roof which was then covered with some planks and an old tarp. Inside the structure they put up the tent in order to give them some extra added protection. The floor was covered with penguin skins and on March 11 the hut was ready for occupancy. As winter set in, the snow surrounding them kept the inside temperature to a comfortable few degrees below freezing...any warmer would melt the ice on the walls and ceiling. The three men hunted penguins to supplement their food resources and eventually killed 700 of them. They even managed to kill a few seals and catch some fish through holes in the ice. They each took turn on duty and entertaining one another in the evenings. According to Andersson, the winter passed quickly. When spring arrived, Andersson made a short trek to see if the channel up to Vega Island was frozen and indeed it was. The men thankfully departed their hut on September 29 in search of the others. All of them were a fit to see as they were blackened by soot from head to foot with long scraggy beards and dirty, ragged clothes. They had just started their journey when a storm came up, trapping them in their small tent. Andersson wrote, "The storm grew more and more violent while the cold increased in intensity, and during the following night the tent-wall fell on my head and the snow packed itself over me, so that I lay fast as though in a vice. I was not released from my position until the storm had subsided, some 30 hours later". They reached Vega Island on October 9 and found the depot left the previous summer. The next two days were spent taking care of Grunden's and Duse's frostbite. After further exploration they were able to confirm that Sidney Herbert Sound actually connected with Crown Prince Gustav Channel but any decent from the island would be extremely difficult. Therefore, the men retraced their steps and began the last leg of their journey to meet up with the others by way of the sea ice around the island. They reached Cape Dreyfus, soon renamed Cape Well-met, on October 12. Andersson wrote, "At 1 PM we had halted at the cape in order to prepare dinner. Groups of seals lay here and there upon the ice; we had just passed by a couple of the animals, and a large family lay some distance further out. 'What the deuce can those seals be, standing up there bolt upright?' says one of us, pointing to some small, dark objects far away on the ice, in towards the channel. 'They are moving', cries another. A delirious eagerness seizes us. A field-glass is pulled out. 'It's men! It's men!' we shout". At long last the men were reunited with their leader.

The RescueThe story of Captain Larsen and the stranded men from the ANTARCTIC is another story of

incredible courage. They had existed in a makeshift hut on Paulet Island throughout the long winter months of 1903. The marooned men spent their first full day ashore on Paulet Island on March 1, hunting penguins and seals to supplement their food supplies for the coming winter. By the end, 1100 penguins had been killed. Work was also started on a stone hut which was not a job for the weak at heart. Stones had to be gathered and carried long distances to the site where the double-walled structure was built. When it was finished, it measured 34 feet by 22 feet with most of it taken up by the living quarters; twelve feet was used for the kitchen. Two stone beds were built along the walls of the living area, each measuring seven feet wide and accommodating 10 men each. By mid March, storms were quite violent and soon one of them blew the kitchen roof off. The winter days dragged on as the cycle continued: sleeping, cooking penguin (and occasional seal or fish), hunting and evenings spent talking or reading out loud from one of the few books that survived the sinking of the ANTARCTIC. From time to time they would have a sing-along but the men acutely feared what their final outcome would be. Skottsberg wrote, "Many hundred dreams have been dreamed in our island but I do not know if they helped to brighten our existence. They grouped themselves around two objects--food and rescue. Why, we could dream through a whole dinner, from the soup to the dessert, and waken to be cruelly disappointed. How many times did one not see the relief vessel in our visions--sometimes as a large ship, sometimes as nothing but a little sloop? And we knew the persons on board; they spoke about our journey; took us in their arms; patted us on the back...". But the reality of the situation was far different as food supplies dwindled away. On June 7, Ole Wennersgaard died. They buried him in a snowdrift until they could properly bury him in the spring.

The months dragged on until October arrived along with a breakup of the sea ice in the gulf which was a clear indication that the sea was clear for a ship to try and reach the three men they had left at Hope Bay. Carl Larsen took five crewmembers from the ANTARCTIC and headed off for Hope Bay at dawn on October 31 in hopes of contacting a rescue ship. They fought the weather all the way but on November 4 they finally reached Hope Bay. To their dismay they found the depot and stone hut but no sign of the men. Attached to the hut was a board on which a note had been written informing anyone who found it that Gunnar Andersson, Lieutenant Duse and Toralf Grunden had wintered there. A sketched map was found in a flask that showed Larsen the route the three men were taking in their attempt to reach Snow Hill Island. Larsen realized he would have to make the same journey but for him it would be by water. Bad weather delayed them for three days before they were able to launch their small boat into Antarctic Sound. Larsen wrote, "We broke up at 4 am and then rowed the whole day in the direction of Sidney Herbert Bay. Only here and there did we meet with scattered ice. The fine weather continued the whole of the next night, and we were making rapid progress towards our goal when, just as we passed Cape Gage and came into Admiralty Sound we met with a hinder which could not be forced by the boat. We found the ice extending in a straight line right over the bay towards Cockburn Island and Cape Seymour, and inwards across the whole of the sound. So at 2 am we drew the boat up on the ice and retired to rest". As Larsen and his companions struggled across the gulf, close by was a rescue ship working it's way through the ice around Joinville Island. The folks back in Sweden and Argentina had become very concerned with the fate of the ANTARCTIC when she didn't return. After all, both the British (DISCOVERY) and German (GAUSS) expeditions had barely escaped the unusual ice conditions that summer. So, arrangements were made for France, Sweden and Argentina to send rescue ships to the vicinity of Snow Hill Island the following spring. Lieutenant Julian Irizar, the Argentinian naval attaché in London, was chosen to lead the Argentinean rescue expedition aboard the corvette URUGUAY. Meanwhile, as rescue preparations were being made, Nordenskjöld returned to Hope Bay along with Andersson, Duse and Toralf. On October 26, Nordenskjöld, Andersson and Sobral undertook a journey to Seymour Island and left an inscribed message on a boathook which was raised as a signal on a cairn of rocks. November 7 became a day of great excitement: on this day Larsen and his men began their epic row across Erebus and Terror Gulf; as they were doing this, two more members of the wintering party, Gösta Bodman and Gustaf Akerlund, left winter quarters for Seymour Island; and finally it was on this date that Lieutenant Irizar and the URUGUAY reached the ice shelf off Seymour Island. A small party of men were put ashore to explore the region and that very afternoon discovered the boathook previously planted by Andersson and Sobral. Irizar slowly inched his ship along the edge of the ice until a tent was visible on the shore. Irizar and Lieutenant Yalour landed, walked to the tent and proceeded to wake up the two men inside--Bodman and Akerlund. The two officers then followed the Swedes

across the ice to the winter quarters. Nordenskjöld may have been consumed with delight but this was quickly tempered when the Argentineans informed him that they had not seen any sign of the ANTARCTIC. They quickly agreed to abandon the camp so that the search for the missing ship could start. All of a sudden the dogs started barking and when they went outside, to their astonishment was Bodman greeting Larsen and his party who had just completed the 15-mile journey across the ice. Nordenskjöld wrote, "No pen can describe the boundless joy of this first moment...I learned at once that our dear old ship was no more in existence, but for the instant I could feel nothing but joy when I saw amongst us these men, on whom I had only a few minutes before been thinking with feelings of the greatest despondency". All the men had finally been reunited.

The Hut at Winter Quarters

Otto Nordenskjöld's uncle was the discoverer of the Northeast Passage around Siberia. Nordenskjöld held a doctorate in geology and lectured at Uppsala University. He led geological expeditions to Tierra del Fuego in 1895-97 and to the Yukon in 1898. Upon return from the ANTARCTIC EXPEDITION , Nordenskjöld received much fame but remained in debt for the rest of his life. Nevertheless, he led further expeditions to Greenland in 1909 and to Peru and southern Chile in 1920-21.

Robert Falcon Scott1868-1912

 

Robert Falcon Scott was born at Outlands on June 6, 1868, to John and Hannah Scott. Robert's father, John Edward Scott, was the youngest of eight children. Of John's four older brothers, one died young, two went into the Indian army and one became a naval surgeon. However, poor health kept John from the family service tradition. Instead, John inherited a small brewery in Plymouth which his father and uncle had bought for £4782 out of prize money received during the Napoleonic wars. The family home was also inherited from his father, Robert. This was a house called Outlands near Stoke Damerel, just outside Devonport. The property, a small country estate, was complete with a nice home, a stream at the bottom of the garden, three large greenhouses, dogs, a peacock on the lawn and a small staff of maids and gardeners. In 1861 John Scott married Hannah Cuming, daughter of William Bennett Cuming of Plymouth, a Lloyd's surveyor, Commissioner of Pilotage, Commissioner for the Catwater Improvement, and a member of the Chamber of Commerce. Suffice it to say, this family was a highly respected, very conservative and rather well-to-do Plymouth family. The sons of such Devon families took to the sea as birds to the air and one of Hannah's brothers, Harry Cuming, became a Vice-Admiral. Thus, there was a significant naval tradition on both sides of Robert Falcon Scott's parentage. "Con", as his parents called him, was born into a large family; he had two older sisters, Ettie and Rose, a younger brother, Archie, and a younger sister, Katherine.

Throughout Con's childhood, daydreaming was a habit he worked hard to overcome as everyone, including himself, considered it a flaw. Other weaknesses, equally shameful in this era, were his uneasiness with the sight of blood and of suffering in animals. Although he tried hard to conceal it, he never really overcame these perceived problems.

As a boy, he was "shy and diffident, small and weakly for his age, lethargic, backward, and above all, dreamy" as one of his biographers wrote. On the other hand, he had a happy childhood as the first five children were born within a nine year period providing plenty of playmates. Although subject to occasional fits of temper, Con's father, John, was considered an easygoing father with plenty of patience.

Con's mother, Hannah, was loved and worshipped by all the Scott children; to Con she was always "the dear Mother". Not much is known about Hannah but one thing is certain: she had strong religious principles and never questioned the teachings of the Church of England. "My own dearest Mother," wrote Con on his departure from New Zealand on his last journey in 1910, "I quite understand and anticipated your anxiety concerning our spiritual welfare. I read the Church service every Sunday on our voyage to Melbourne and I propose to do the same with equal regularity throughout the voyage. You need not have any anxiety on this point".

Robert F. Scott joined his first seagoing ship in August, 1883, at the age of thirteen. The ship, HMS BOADICEA, was the flagship of the Cape Squadron, and in her he served as midshipman for two years. This was the first time that young Con had earned money, about £30 a year. Midshipmen were still students with naval instructors as their teachers. Training was intense for these young men as Admiral Sir William Jameson wrote that midshipmen were "up aloft in all sorts of weather and away for long hours in boats under oars and sail. In spite of rigid barriers, young officers learnt the lower deck point of view in a way which is often difficult to achieve in these more democratic days". The young men worked in the rigging 120 feet above deck. They slept in hammocks, bathrooms were unknown, instructors were strong and intense in their verbal attacks, and punishment included beatings and extra drill. As a result, survival created a man, from a boy, with complete suppression of a young boy's natural feelings of fright, homesickness and lack of self-confidence. He had to learn to bear pain without flinching, to obey orders directly, and disregard any immature tendencies. This treatment could be quite traumatic for a young boy coming from a comfortable home. Con Scott was considered an excellent example of

a student as he learned the lessons thoroughly while climbing up the lower branches of the navy. After a brief tour with the HMS LIBERTY , he served a year on HMS MONARCH, whose captain rated Con a "promising young officer". At the end of 1886 he joined HMS ROVER and was rated by her captain as an "intelligent and capable young officer of temperate habits". Con was 18 when the Royal Navy's Training Squadron, to which the HMS ROVER belonged, was cruising in the Caribbean. The midshipmen of the four participating ships raced their cutters across the bay at St. Kitts in the West Indies. The race was narrowly won by Con and a few days later young Con was invited aboard the HMS ACTIVE to dine with the Commodore, Albert Markham. Present at the dinner was Albert's cousin and guest, a middle-aged geographer named Clements Markham. Clements was thoroughly impressed by Con's intelligence, enthusiasm and charm and later wrote "My final conclusion was that Scott was the destined man to command the Antarctic expedition". Destiny had arrived for young Scott.

After nine months on the HMS ROVER , Scott went on to spend the winter of 1887-8 at the Royal Naval College at Greenwich and in March 1888 he was awarded first-class certificates in pilotage, torpedoes and gunnery, coming in with the highest marks in his class in his year of seamanship. He was commissioned as a sub-lieutenant and at the end of 1888, he was instructed to join the cruiser HMS AMPHION stationed near Vancouver, Canada. He had to make his own way across North America with the last stage of his trip being a long journey in a tramp steamer from San Francisco to Esquimault, BC.

After Scott's tour of service in the Pacific, he joined HMS CAROLINE briefly in the Mediterranean. The summer of 1891 was spent on leave with his family at Outlands. This was undoubtedly the most carefree time of Con's life as his lieutenant's salary of £182 10s a year provided him with independence allowing him to pay his own expenses. He played golf with his brothers and played tennis with his sisters. It was a happy time for the twenty-two year-old.

In September 1891 Con reported to the torpedo training ship HMS VERNON. He graduated with first-class certificates in all subjects and was appointed to HMS VULCAN in the Mediterranean. By the end of 1894, at the age of twenty-five, Con received tragic news from his mother: the family was virtually bankrupt. John Scott had sold the brewery on Hoegate Street a few years before and was now enjoying his life of retirement while working in his greenhouses. Hannah had assumed that interest income from the sale of the brewery would allow them a comfortable life and one can imagine her shock when John revealed the necessity to give up Outlands as he had drawn on the capital and, although never confirmed, likely made a poor investment which resulted in the loss of their remaining capital. In questionable health and 63 years old, John Scott had to look for a job.

John actually did find a job, as a manager of a small brewery. Outlands was let go and the family, except for Con's sister Rose, moved to Holcombe House, near Shepton Mallet, which they rented for £30 a year. Rose had landed a job at Nottingham Hospital and it wasn't long before the three remaining sisters began searching for their own careers. The oldest sister, 32-year-old Ettie, went on to become an actress. Attractive and single, she joined a touring company whose leading lady was Irene Vanbrugh. The two younger sisters, Grace (Monsie) and Kate (or Kitty) chose the more conventional trade of dressmaking.

The financial disaster of 1894 was bad enough, but three years later, in October 1897, John Scott died of heart disease at the age of 66, leaving his family without any support or life insurance. Hannah had to leave Holcombe House and the family became, briefly, penniless and homeless. Monsie and Kate had moved to a room over a shop in Chelsea so it was not long before Hannah moved in with them. The financial burden of Hannah fell upon her two sons who were struggling themselves on very meager Service pay. At the time, Archie was in West Africa. After the financial collapse of his family, he had himself moved from the Royal Artillery to the post of ADC and private secretary to the Governor of Lagos, Sir Gilbert Carter. The pay was better and living expenses were less. A year later he transferred to the Hausa Force which was engaged in bringing law and order to warring tribes of the interior of the Oil Rivers Protectorate. After his father's death, Archie contributed £200 a year to his mother's welfare. This was nearly as much as Con's entire salary but Con still managed to send £70 a year to his mother. This period was extremely difficult for Con. He had very little money left to cover his personal

expenses and enjoying a mild weekend of shore leave was out of the question. He had to pinch every penny as even an occasional glass of wine, game of golf, and so forth were normally too expensive. To take a young woman to dinner would have been impossible. He was cut off from his friends as he never had the funds to share in the same enjoyments as his comrades. Poverty, and real poverty it was, could only have forced Con to withdraw unto himself. Years later he wrote to his future wife "Do you remember I warned you that secretiveness was strongly developed in me? Don't forget that at forty the reserve of a lifetime is not easily broken. It has been built up to protect the most sensitive spots". The "sensitive spots" were his lack of self-confidence, his sense of inferiority, of frustration and isolation, born from his inability to share life's experience with his peers due to his lack of money. But, self-pity was not among his faults. There are no complaints in any recorded document written by Con.

His devotion to family remained constant throughout his life. Once he learned of the financial crisis in 1894, he applied for a transfer to HMS DEFIANCE, stationed at Devonport, so that he could help with the sale of Outlands and assist his mother and sisters in moving to Somerset. When they were settled, he applied for another seagoing job and was appointed torpedo lieutenant in HMS EMPRESS OF INDIA, a battleship in the Channel Squadron. This appointment lasted less than one year but while in the Mediterranean, he once again encountered Clements Markham and his cousin.

In the summer of 1897, Scott was appointed torpedo lieutenant to the flagship of the Channel Squadron, HMS MAJESTIC. From this ship came a number of future expedition members on Scott's first trip to the Antarctic aboard DISCOVERY: Lieutenant Michael Barne, Engineer-Lieutenant Reginald Skelton, Warrant Officer J. H. Dellbridge, and two petty officers, Edgar Evans and David Allan. It was at this time, while serving aboard the HMS MAJESTIC, that his father died. His oldest sister, Ettie, had married a promising politician, William Ellison-Macartney, only a few months before John's death. Con felt good about this as certainly Ettie would be in a much more stable and secure environment than if she had remained at Outlands with a looming financial crisis. Ettie's husband helped Monsie and Kate study the fashion industry in Paris by advancing them a loan. In addition, he contributed a small sum towards his mother-in-law's support. Meanwhile, Rose took a bold step that same year by taking a nursing job in the Gold Coast, then known as the White Man's Grave.

Hannah Scott In the autumn of 1898 Archie came home on leave and Con took him for a cruise off the Irish coast in the HMS MAJESTIC. Con was extremely proud of his brother and said Archie was "absolutely full of life and enjoyment and at the same time so keen on his job. He deserves to be a success. Commissioner, Consul and Governor is the future for him I feel". A little over a month later Archie went to Hythe to play golf, contracted typhoid fever and died within a week. Hannah was devastated and felt fully responsible for his death. Hannah felt that Archie served in West Africa solely to earn extra money which he could send home to his financially strapped mother and sisters. It was there, in West Africa, that Hannah felt Archie's health deteriorated. Con wrote to her, "Don't blame yourself for what happened, dear. Whatever we have cause to bless ourselves for, comes from you. He died like the true-hearted gentleman he was, but to you we owe the first lessons and example that made us gentlemen. This thing is most terrible to us all but is no penalty for any act of yours". Now the whole financial burden of the family fell on Con, other than what little his brother-in-law could afford to give. His brother-in-law was not a rich man and soon they had children. The first of three, Phoebe, was born in 1898.

Rose, still a nurse in the Gold Coast, worked hard to save her own money and in 1899 she married Captain Eric Campbell of the Royal Irish Fusiliers, one of her brother Archie's fellow officers

in the Hausa Force.

While serving on the HMS MAJESTIC, the third meeting between Con and Clements Markham took place. While home on leave in June, 1899, "chancing one day to be walking down the Buckingham Palace Road, I espied Sir Clements Markham and accompanied him to his house. That afternoon I learned for the first time that there was such a thing as a prospective Antarctic Expedition; two days later I wrote applying to command it". Scott wrote, in The Voyage of the Discovery, that "I may as well confess that I had no predeliction for polar exploration". His sister Ettie confirmed that "he had no urge towards snow, ice, or that kind of adventure" but had grown restless with the navy and "wanted freedom to develop more widely" as he had "developed great concentration, and all the years of dreaming were working up to a point". After sending his application, Con returned to duty aboard HMS MAJESTIC for the best part of a year.

 

Sir Clements Markham

In 1894 Markham had invited the Royal Society to join with the Royal Geographical Society, of which he was President, to finance the Antarctic project of his dreams. In hindsight, Markham felt this was a mistake as he was essentially snubbed by the Royal Society as their members felt the RGS was beneath them. Markham was then put off by the First Lord of the Admiralty and worse, by the Prime Minister, Lord Salisbury, who "regretted that he was unable, under existing circumstances, to hold out any hope of HMG embarking upon an expedition of this magnitude". Markham fought on by lobbying his friends, addressing meetings and writing papers, all in vain. He became very concerned as he felt other nations would rush in ahead of them and claim the riches certainly awaiting the first continental explorers. Markham was furious. In 1895, a wealthy British publisher, George Newnes, put up the money for Carsten Borchgrevink's 1898 SOUTHERN CROSS EXPEDITION. Here was a penniless Norwegian schoolmaster in Australia securing good British money while Markham, with all his influence, was left with empty hands. Finally, in 1897, the Council of the Royal Geographical Society pledged £5000. Markham "kept on writing letters to rich people" and suddenly Mr. Llewellyn Longstaff, a paint manufacturer living in Wimbledon, pledged £25,000. This generous gift caught the attention of the Prince of Wales, who had "declined to connect himself with the expedition until public feeling was manifest", and soon others followed. In July, 1899, the Government announced a grant of £45,000, provided that private sources matched it with an equal amount. At that time Markham had raised £42,000 in pledges so, with a little arm-twisting, he persuaded the RGS to contribute the additional £3,000.

A joint committee of the Royal Society and the Royal Geographical Society was formed to plan the expedition, acquire a ship, and assemble the personnel. This is when the fireworks started. From the very beginning, the two societies disagreed over the aim of the expedition. The RS saw it as an opportunity for extensive scientific research; Markham and the RGS declared it an opportunity for research and advancement in scientific knowledge concerning magnetism, meteorology, biology and geology. Actually, the real aim to Markham was twofold: geographical discovery and opportunities for young naval officers to win distinction in times of peace. The RS felt the expedition leader should be a scientist while Markham felt he "must be a naval officer; he must be in the regular line and not in the surveying branch, and he must be young. These are essentials". Markham was soon in for a serious struggle as the scientists joined forces with the "hydrographic clique" to offer their own choice for leadership. They didn't have a problem with a

naval officer commanding the ship, but they expected him to simply ferry the scientists to the ice, drop them off for their year of work, and come back the following year to pick them up and bring them home. Their choice to fill the position of Director of the Scientific Staff was John Walter Gregory, an eminent geologist. Although his scientific ability was unchallenged, Markham felt he was unsuitable as commander of such an expedition. Actually, he was well qualified as he had not only been on safari in East Africa's Rift Valley when it was wild, unmapped and dangerous, he had scaled Alpine peaks and explored Spitzbergen within the Arctic circle.

The joint committee began searching for an expedition leader the same month that Markham invited Scott to apply for that same position. Gregory was appointed Scientific Director in February 1900, four months before Scott was named the expedition's naval commander. Markham then sent a request to the First Lord of the Admiralty for the release of two young officers, one to lead and the other to be second in command:

The work involved in the stress of contest with the mighty powers of Nature in the Antarctic regions calls for the very same qualities as are needed in the stress of battle. Our application is that a young Commander should be allowed to take charge of its executive work...Youth is essential in polar service. No efficient leader of discovery in icy seas has ever been over forty, the best have been nearer thirty.

Markham offered three names: Commander John de Robeck, aged thirty-eight, Robert F. Scott, aged thirty-two and Charles Royds, aged twenty-four. Although Robeck's request was denied, Scott and Royds were approved for release on April 5, 1900. The joint committee met on April 18, 1900, and Markham informed the committee that the Admiralty had released Scott and Royds. Sir William Wharton, of the joint committee, was extremely angry at Markham for going over the committee's head and assuming authority for naming leadership. Meanwhile, the remaining committee members were furious and now Scott's appointment was questionable. At the next meeting, on May 4, another committee was appointed to settle the issue, six on Markham's side and six on the side of the "hydrographic clique" who would "strive to secure a job for the survey department with obstinate perversity". As luck would have it, at the next committee meeting on May 24, two of the "hydrographic clique" representatives stayed away which placed the majority with Markham. The fight was over as Scott's appointment was confirmed. The next day the committee unanimously approved Scott as the expedition leader. In December 1900 Professor Gregory arrived in Great Britain from Australia to organize his side of the expedition. When he arrived in London he was shocked to learn of his position on the team since he expected the Antarctic command had been placed under his direction. He expected to lead the expedition on the ice while Scott wintered over in Melbourne. According to Markham, instead of going to work on his scientific program, Gregory set about conspiring with the hydrographers to have Scott's leadership role overturned. Try as he might, Gregory was unsuccessful in his bid to capture the command. In May, 1901, Gregory was sent a telegram with a choice to either serve under Scott's command, or resign. Gregory resigned in disgust. Dr. George Murray, head of the botanical department of the British Museum, was appointed in his place on the condition that he go only as far as Melbourne to give scientific advise and training to the other scientists and then return to his duties at the museum. Gregory went on to occupy the Chair of Geology at Glasgow University for twenty-five years. At the age of sixty-eight, while crossing a river in Peru, he drowned.

 

The DISCOVERY Expedition1901-04

After his meeting with Markham in June 1899, Scott went back to sea and resumed his duties aboard the HMS MAJESTIC. On June 9, 1900 Scott received his letter of appointment and two days later wrote a formal letter of acceptance to the committee. A follow-up letter arrived on the desk of the two Presidents shortly thereafter in which Scott wrote:

1. I must have complete command of the ship and landing parties. There cannot be two heads.

2. I must be consulted on all matters affecting the equipment of the landing parties.3. The executive officers must not number less than four, exclusive of myself.4. I must be consulted in all future appointments, both civilians and others, especially the

doctor.5. It must be understood that the doctors are first medical men, and secondly members of

the scientific staff, not vice versa.6. I am ready to insist on these conditions to the point of resignation if, in my opinion, their

refusal imperils the success of the undertaking.

Scott went on leave for a few weeks and then started work by taking a course in magnetism at Deptford. Living with his two sisters and mother over the shop in Chelsea, Scott started his day by jogging across Hyde Park for exercise. He plunged himself into the planning of the expedition. Extraordinary details had to be worked out and even Hugh Robert Mill, distinguished librarian of the Royal Geographical Society (1892-1900), thought that Scott "if anyone, could bring order out of the chaos which had overtaken the plans and preparations".

In October 1900 Scott and the Markhams went to Christiania (Oslo) to consult Nansen. His vessel, the FRAM, had just returned intact with her crew after drifting right across the Arctic from the Siberian sea to emerge, after thirty-five months, north of Spitzbergen, which proved the Arctic region to be an ocean rather than a continent. The FRAM was designed like a saucer so that she would be lifted above the ice floes rather than crushed by them. It was a revolutionary design but to reach the Antarctic a ship would have to cross terrible seas and force her way through hundreds of miles of ice pack, so they thought a whaling vessel would be more suitable. (Ironically, Amundsen later borrowed the FRAM from Nansen and sailed her to Antarctica and right into the Ross Sea.) Scott and Nansen quickly became fast friends. Of Nansen, Scott wrote to his mother, "He is a great man, absolutely straightforward and wholly practical, so our business flies along apace. I wish to goodness it would go as well in England". Later, Nansen wrote of Scott, "I see him before me, his tight, wiry figure, his intelligent, handsome face, that earnest, fixed look, and those expressive lips so seriously determined and yet ready to smile--the features of a kindly, generous character, with a fine admixture of earnestness and humour". Nansen told him to get dogs so he did as Nansen and bought them in Russia. It was suggested that he buy Greenland dogs which were bigger and better, but they were hard to get as the many Arctic expeditions of the previous fifty years had taken a toll on the supply of these dogs. Twenty dogs and three bitches were selected in Archangel and sent to the London zoo where they were kept until they could be shipped to New Zealand.

The Crew

On May 29, 1900 Albert Armitage was appointed to serve as second-in-command and navigator. Armitage, aged thirty-six, came from the Merchant Navy where he had been an officer in the P and O fleet. His prior experience came from his participation, as navigator, with the Jackson-Harmsworth Arctic expedition in 1894. The expedition's primary goal was to determine if Franz Josef Land was part of a continent which might extend all the way to the North Pole. Armitage, and seven others, landed at Franz Josef Land and proceeded to spend three years in a hut within the 80°N circle, shooting polar bears and doing scientific research. Franz Josef land was simply a series of scattered islands that had been incorrectly mapped by their discoverer, Julius Payer. One day Armitage was searching the area with his field glasses when he spotted someone approaching on skis. The man was covered in oil and grease and black from head to foot. It was Nansen! Nansen and one companion had left the FRAM and her crew to make a dash for the North Pole. Unfortunately, they too soon discovered the impossibility of such a trek. They wintered in a tiny hut, living on bear meat in a latitude of 86°13'N, the farthest-north record that stood until Peary reached the Pole in 1909. Nansen and his companion had been dragging sledges and two kayaks, having eaten all the dogs by then, across seven hundred miles of ice, hoping to reach Spitzbergen where whaling vessels occasionally called. Finding Armitage saved their lives as a trip across the open seas to Spitzbergen in kayaks would have resulted in certain death. They returned to civilization in July 1896 in the WINDWARD.

The doctor on the Jackson-Harmsworth expedition had been Reginald Koettlitz, a six foot tall man with drooping mustaches of German heritage. At the age of thirty-nine, Koettlitz received his appointment in 1900. Markham described him as "a very honest food fellow, but exceedingly short of commonsense". However, Koettlitz was in agreement with other notable doctors that scurvy, the plague of all polar expeditions, was caused by a poison resulting from putrefaction of preserved food. The remedy was absolutely pure food.

The assistant surgeon was a young man recently qualified at St. George's Hospital. He had a wonderful talent for drawing and painting in water colors, was a deeply religious man and had a passion for birds. His name was Edward Adrian Wilson, son of a Cheltenham doctor. A courageous young man, Wilson spent too many chilly nights bird-watching, too many long nights with his studies to make up for time spent in art galleries, too much starving himself so he could give money to beggars or to buy books, and probably too much smoking. He ruined his health and contracted pulmonary tuberculosis. After spending two years in Norway and a Swiss sanitarium, he shook the disease but as soon as he began his duties as junior house surgeon he contracted blood poisoning which resulted in a painful abscess in his armpit. When Scott met him in 1900, his arm was still in a sling. Scott appointed him on the spot but he still had to pass an Admiralty Medical Board. He failed the first time and the second exam, only weeks before sailing, reported "Mr. E. A. Wilson unfit on account of disease in the right lung". Scott told Markham he must have him and Wilson told Scott "I quite realize it will be kill or cure, and have made up my mind that it will be cure". Dr. Wilson's contributions to the expedition were enormous and his incredible gallery of original artwork left for our enjoyment is highly prized and very valuable.

 Discovery, by E. A. Wilson The three naval officers appointed, at about the same time as Scott, were Charles Royds as first lieutenant, Michael Barne as second naval lieutenant and Reginald Skelton as chief engineer. Royd's charge was to deal with the men and internal economy of the ship. He was serving on HMS CRESCENT, which was the flagship on the North America station, at the time of his appointment. Michael Barne had been educated at Stubbington School in preparation for the navy and later served with Scott on HMS MAJESTIC. Reginald Skelton also served with Scott on the HMS MAJESTIC. A Norfolk man, he had joined the navy as an engineer-student in 1887, served in various ships on various stations until Scott finally met him when he was appointed senior engineer on the HMS MAJESTIC.

There were still three scientific positions to be filled and the first of those, as naturalist, was offered to a Scot, W. S. Bruce. Unfortunately he was busy organizing his own Scottish expedition (the SCOTIA in 1902) and he declined. The position was then offered to Thomas Vere Hodgson, aged thirty-seven, director of the marine biological laboratories in Plymouth. ("Young to have a polished bald head, sometimes needing a skull cap, but otherwise apparently strong and healthy" as Markham wrote).

The geologist, Hartley Ferrar, aged twenty-two, had just graduated from Cambridge with an honor's degree. Born in Ireland and raised primarily in South Africa, Markham felt he was capable but "very young, very unfledged, and rather lazy; however, he most likely could be "made into a man in this ship" by "the young lieutenants".

The physicist was Louis Bernacchi, aged twenty-five. His appointment was so late in coming that he had to join the ship in New Zealand. He had spent a very adventurous childhood on a mountainous island that was uninhabited except for his family and their dependents. His father was a silk merchant from Lombardy

and had bought the island from the Tasmanian Government for £20,000. Louis studied physics and astronomy at the Melbourne Observatory and was the only member of the expedition to have prior experience in the Antarctic. He had just spent two years with Borchgrevink's SOUTHERN CROSS expedition and had wintered over in the hut at Cape Adare. Markham declared him "Always grown up--never a boy".

Ernest Shackleton was an unusual choice. He was a Merchant Navy officer, like Armitage, but no one had invited him to join. Shackleton went to sea at the age of sixteen as an apprentice in a sailing vessel and his captain considered him "the most pigheaded, obstinate boy I ever came across". He worked his way up the ladder and was soon the third officer in a Union Castle liner. He became engaged to become married and told his future father-in-law "my fortune is all to make but I intend to make it quickly". He was ambitious but had no special interest in the polar regions or scientific research, for that matter. He applied to join the expedition and was promptly turned down. In Shackleton's case, it was a simple "who-you-know" matter--Llewellyn Longstaff, who had been the first to pledge financial backing to the expedition, had a son who was a passenger to Cape Town on the liner in which Shackleton served. The two men became friends and Shackleton persuaded young Longstaff to set him up for an interview with Armitage. The second-in-command was impressed and recommended him to Scott who, in February 1901, appointed him third lieutenant in charge of holds, stores, provisions and deep sea water analysis. Armitage wrote "His brother officers considered him a very good fellow, always quoting poetry and full of erratic ideas". Shackleton was forced to leave the expedition in 1903 and was replaced by George F. A. Mulock, who remained with the expedition until conclusion. Mulock was only twenty-one but had received excellent instruction as a surveyor in HMS TRITON, and his services provided were invaluable.

This concluded the complement of primary officers and scientists. The navy also released three warrant officers and six petty officers, including Edgar Evans and David Allan from the HMS MAJESTIC.

L to R: Lt. Armitage, Lt. Mulock, Lt. Shackleton, Dr. Wilson, Lt. Skelton, Capt. Scott,

Lt. Royds, Dr. Koettlitz, Mr. Bernacchi and Mr. Ferrar on board Discovery

The DISCOVERY was built at Dundee. She was the sixth of her name and the first to be specifically designed and built for scientific work. She had to be a wooden ship to withstand the

pressure of the ice since steel would simply buckle. She had to be a sailing ship but with auxiliary engines. The ship was to be exceptionally strong, built from a variety of timbers: English oak for the frames, eleven inches thick; Riga fir for the lining, eleven inches; Honduras mahogany, pitch pine or oak for the four-inch-thick lining, all sheathed with two layers of planking--twenty-six inches of solid wood in all. Her bow was incredibly strong; some of the bolts running through the wood were eight and a half feet long. The vessel was 172 feet long and 34 feet wide, of 485 tons register and a displacement of 1620 tons. She had to have room to store fuel, oil, 350 tons of coal, fresh water, dog food, medical supplies, scientific instruments, axes and saws, a sectional wooden hut, a piano and a library. Invitations for bids were offered but only two were received. On December 14, 1899 a contract with the Dundee Ship Building Company was signed. The keel was laid on March 16, 1900 and the final cost, including engines, was £49,277. On March 21, 1901 Lady Markham, with a pair of golden scissors, cut the tape and the DISCOVERY was launched. Food for the 47 men was stored aboard: 150 tons of roast pheasant, 500 of roast turkey, whole roast partridges, jugged hare, duck and green peas, rump steak, wild cherry sauce, celery seed, black currant vinegar, candied orange peel, Stilton and Double Gloucester cheese, 27 gallons of brandy, 27 gallons of whiskey, 60 cases of port, 36 cases of sherry, 28 cases of champagne, lime juice, 1800 pounds of tobacco, pemmican, raisins, chocolate and onion powder. While being loaded, many visitors came to see her. Among them were two former colleagues of Sir James Clark Ross: Sir Erasmus Ommaney (now aged eighty-seven) who had sailed with Ross to the Arctic in 1835, and the famous botanist Sir Joseph Hooker, naturalist in James Clark Ross's EREBUS and TERROR expedition. It was upon Hooker's advice that Scott found £1300 to purchase a balloon for the voyage. With much fanfare and a Godspeed service on board, the DISCOVERY weighed anchor on July 31, 1901, paused at Spithead to correct her compasses and proceeded to Cowes to receive the royal blessing. The new King and Queen, still uncrowned, came aboard. The Queen's Pekinese fell overboard and one of the sailors had to rescue it. The next day, August 6, the DISCOVERY passed Needles on her way to the unknown. As Markham noted, "Truly, they form the vanguard of England's chivalry. No finer set of men ever left these shores, nor were men ever led by a finer Captain".

Discovery launched March 21, 1901 The DISCOVERY was so heavy in the seas that she could not make more than seven knots. This became an immediate concern as New Zealand was 14,000 miles away. Her first stop was at Madeira Island where they took on more coal and sent back considerable mail. After leaving Madeira, the men were shocked to find that the DISCOVERY was leaking water into the hold and, as a result, had ruined a significant amount of food. What could be dried was saved and the rest was thrown overboard. The ship arrived in Cape Town on October 3, 1901 where nearly everyone proceeded to get drunk. Owing to the slowness of the voyage, Scott decided to cut the Melbourne leg of the journey and sail directly to Lyttleton, New Zealand. As a result of this decision, Dr. Murray was left in Cape Town so that he could return to his post at the British Museum.

The DISCOVERY arrived at Lyttleton at the end of November where the leak at last received attention. Meanwhile, the hospitality extended to the crew was generous, at the very least. Royds wrote that there was "Not a single sober man on board. The men are rushed at as soon as they get ashore and all good Service feeling is lost and I have awful times. Better men never stepped a plank whilst they are at sea, but in harbor they are nothing but brute beasts, and I am ashamed of them, and told them so, and penitent indeed they are, but only until they are drunk again". Scott wrote that the drunken men "disgust me, but I'm going to have it out with them somehow. There are only a few black sheep but they lend colour to the flock". A few were discharged and replaced. The men were nearly all bachelors and the young sailors soon were welcomed right into New Zealand homes. Skelton lived with the Meares family and eventually married the youngest daughter, Sybil, while Ferrar went on to meet his future wife in Christchurch.

While in New Zealand, Scott was to receive some good news from Markham. The men had determined that a relief ship would be needed to resupply the DISCOVERY the following year and, of course, check on their condition. In May 1901 Mr. Llewellyn Longstaff contributed £5000 which Markham used to purchase the MORGENEN. In September she sailed from Norway to England where she was refitted and renamed the MORNING. Lieutenant William Colbeck, RNR, was appointed her commander. Colbeck had Antarctic experience as he had been the magnetic observer on Borchgrevink's SOUTHER CROSS EXPEDITION.

On December 21 the DISCOVERY was escorted by HMS RINGAROOMA and HMS LIZARD out of the harbor as cheering crowds stood on the shore waving farewell.

Soon after crossing the Antarctic Circle they entered the ice pack. Just before midnight on January 8, 1902, Royds sighted land off the port bow. They headed for Cape Adare, where Borchgrevink's party had wintered, and soon landed on the beach. From Cape Adare they sailed nearly due south along the shore of Victoria Land and eventually landed at Cape Crozier on the northeastern tip of Ross Island where Royds and Wilson climbed to 1350 feet and viewed the Great Ice Barrier stretching as far as the eye could see. From Cape Crozier they steamed along the eastern edge of the Barrier and on January 30, after emerging from a whiteout in a snowstorm, the eastern extremity of the Barrier was reached where patches of rock were determined to rise 2000 feet above them. Scott named the new discovery King Edward VII Land. Scott turned about and retraced their route back to McMurdo Sound where they intended to set up winter quarters. Along the way they stopped long enough for Scott and Shackleton to take a trip aloft in the balloon. The balloon developed a leak and was never used again.

After arriving at their winter quarters, the ship was secured by ice-anchors to an ice-foot and a 36-foot square hut was built. Two smaller huts were put up to house the magnetic instruments and the dogs were moved into their kennels.

On February 16, 1902, the sun slipped below the horizon for the first time. It was too late in the season for any long-distance sledge trips so Scott planned a few short practice trips to test the equipment and men. As it turned out, Armitage and Bernacchi were the only men with a little dog-driving experience. It was hilarious to watch them but many hard lessons were learned.

The first trip was a three-day affair to White Island by Wilson, Shackleton and Ferrar. A hard lesson was learned on this first sledge trip as the three nearly became the first casualties of the expedition. Distances in the Antarctic are very deceptive and when plans were made, the three felt the island could easily be reached in a day and a half of sledging. The men had decided to haul the sledge themselves. It was two days before they reached the island whereupon a blizzard set in and frostbite struck their faces and feet. They were so exhausted from the trip that they could hardly pitch their tent and cook their meal. The trip taught them how little they actually knew about the Antarctic.

The next trip was taken by four officers and eight men with four sledges (Leader Royds, Quartley, Vince, Weller, Wild, Barne, Skelton, Evans, Heald, Plumley, Koettlitz and Hare). On the morning of March 4 the men started out for the penguin rookery at Cape Crozier where they were to leave a canister containing directions on how to find the expedition's winter quarters. Scott was to lead the party but had to decline as he had injured his knee in a skiing accident. The dogs did hardly anything but fight, frostbite attacked, the snow was so soft that they sank in well above their ankles and progress was so slow that on the second day they only made five miles. The rations got mixed up in the bag so that a mush of sugar, cheese, butter, soup tablets and chocolate had to be cooked together. Most of the dogs went lame and the men were exhausted so on the fourth day Royds decided to push ahead with Koettlitz and Skelton and send the rest, under leadership of Barnes, back to the ship. Royds and his men had a terrible struggle and after five days of hard going, they still hadn't found the rookery. Royd's decided to give up the search and return to the ship as temperatures reached -42°F. Royds, Koettlitz and Skelton reached the hut in four days but the other men had not been so lucky. Barnes and the returning party, eight members in all, had arrived to within four miles of the ship at a hill called Castle Rock. When they reached the summit, a blizzard came up and reduced visibility to nearly nil. They pitched their tents and since they couldn't get their cookers to work, frostbite began to set in. An experienced crew would have remained, no matter how uncomfortable, but the novice crew decided to head out into the storm. They soon found themselves on a steep slippery slope where Evans stepped on a patch of bare ice and tumbled out of sight. Barne sat down and slid after him with Quartley following close behind. All three men miraculously came to a halt when a patch of soft snow stopped them at the edge of a precipice with the sea pounding below. A howling dog flashed past and disappeared over the edge. Frank Wild took charge of leading the remaining five who were left at the head of the slope. He led them off in the direction of the ship but suddenly came upon a cliff with the dark sea below; another step and he would have gone right over the edge. Unfortunately, Vince could get no grip on the slippery ice and, like the dog, he vanished over the edge and into the sea. Wild, Weller, Heald and Plumley were able to fight their way back to the ship. Of the original twelve, only four had returned. A search party was quickly organized and led by Wild who came upon Barne, Evans and Quartley wandering about in a daze at Castle Rock. That evening Royds brought in his party and so it seemed only two men were lost, Vince and Clarence Hare. Hare had last been seen heading back to the abandoned sledges to get his ski boots. Two days later a figure came walking down the hill towards the ship. Incredibly, it was Hare and without even a trace of frostbite. It seems he had fallen down and simply gone to sleep. The snow covered and preserved him as he slept for thirty-six hours!

One more sledging trip was undertaken before winter set in. On Easter Monday, Scott started off with Armitage, Wilson, Ferrar and eight men with three sledges and nine dogs. The objective was to lay depots towards the south for use of the sledging parties in the spring. The dogs refused to work and the temperature dropped to -47°F. When they became exhausted, the men crawled into their sleeping bags. As Wilson put it, "Once in, one can do literally nothing but lie as

one falls in the tent. Reindeer skin hairs get in your mouth and nose and you can't lift a hand to get them out". At night the men would sweat which would produce a puddle beneath them and since nothing could be dried, by morning "you put on frozen mitts and frozen boots, stuffed with frozen grass and rime. There's a fascination about it all, but it can't be considered comfort". Two more days of this and Scott decided enough was enough. They packed up their gear and headed back to the ship with everyone learning from this experience. On April 23, 1901 the sun sank below the horizon and would not reappear for more than four months.

A winter routine was established with each man having his own special task. Royds was in charge of the seamen and petty officers, who were employed on routine activities such as "watering ship" every few days by hacking out blocks of ice and taking them on board to be melted in the boiler. Exercise was a problem as blizzards and extreme cold kept everybody inside for days on end. Birthdays were celebrated by special dinners and a religious service was held each Sunday. The South Polar Times appeared, edited by Shackleton, and all were invited to contribute; the first copy was formally presented to Captain Scott. Some men played cards and chess while others read and carried out scientific studies.

Summer sledging began on September 2 when Scott and eight others set out to lay a depot. They were back in three days as the conditions were impossible for both men and dogs. A typical sledging camp can be best described from descriptions written in the diaries of the men who fought the extremes. The first step was to set up a small tent just large enough for three men to lie down in. Snow was piled up around the outside of the tent in order to hold it down in case of a blizzard. The sledge would be unloaded and the cooker set up inside the tent. One had to be careful when grabbing metal as sometimes your skin would stick right to it. Changing from the day outfit into night gear was a laborious task, indeed. First you removed your finneskoes, making sure you left them in the shape of your feet since they froze as hard as bricks in a few minutes and would be impossible to put on in the morning until one could find a way to thaw them out. Then you had to unlace your leggings, which had to be done with bare hands. Needless to say, a pause was necessary periodically to stuff your hands back in your pants to keep them from frostbite. Three pairs of socks were pulled on which had been kept next to the body all day in order to keep them warm. Then came a long pair of fur boots reaching above the knee, then fur trousers and finally a loose fur blouse. Day-socks were often tucked inside the pant leggings in order to keep them warm for the next morning. Then came supper which consisted of a hoosh made of pemmican, cheese, oatmeal, pea-flour and bacon. At bedtime it was often discussed whether each man should sleep in his own bag or if three should try it together. When it's -40°F, it's certainly much easier to keep warm with three in a bag. Unfortunately, one could not move without disturbing the others, not to mention the fit of experiencing a leg cramp, which they often did. Condensation of breath was another problem. After a few days the inside of the tent became covered with a layer of ice and every time the wind shook it, a shower of ice fell on the men sleeping beneath. Also, their breath froze in their beards and around the necks of their fur coats which produced a collar as stiff as a board. Shivering fits could last for hours. Next morning, the whole process would be repeated in reverse. Then, Bernacchi wrote twenty-five years later, came a ceremony that no one ever talks about. Bathrooms were ruled out since they took too long to dig and besides, they would just fill up with snow. So, "feeling like a ham in a sack", each man took his turn loosening his clothes, going out into the snow, facing the wind and "watchfully awaiting a temporary lull. It's a ghastly business". No matter how quick you were, your clothes would fill with snow and for the next few hours you would walk around with a wet, cold bottom. Some of the men suffered from dysentery so one can easily imagine how much misery these men had to sustain when blizzards raged for days on end.

On September 17, 1902 Scott went on a preliminary reconnaissance with Barne and Shackleton. On the second night a blizzard came up and nearly took their tent away as they had neglected to pile enough snow around the outside. Before they made it back to the ship all had suffered from frostbite.

Many sledging trips took place over the spring and early summer. On November 2 Scott, Wilson and Shackleton set forth on their southern journey together with a large supporting party under Barne. This was to be the centerpiece of the expedition. Soon after leaving, they were slowed by

sticky snow and deep sastrugi. A two-day blizzard kept them in their tent and on the third day Shackleton started to cough. Beyond Minna Bluff, they were into the unknown and "already appeared to be lost on the great open plain". At the 79th parallel, photographs were taken and half of Barne's supporting party turned back. The rest pushed on until November 15 at which time the balance of Barne's party took for home. From the next day, things began to go wrong. The major problem came with the dogs. Instead of bringing dog biscuit to feed them, dried stockfish was brought. The stockfish had become tainted as the DISCOVERY sailed through the tropics and now the dogs wouldn't eat it. From November 16 onwards Scott's diary makes sad reading, with the dogs daily losing heart and condition, and the men's hopes of making a heroic journey slowly fading away. There was nothing they could do but to press on as far south as they could and when the dogs could do no more hauling, they simply would do the hauling themselves. They would have been better off just killing the dogs and depoting the meat as they sledged south but they went on hoping somehow the dogs would revive. On November 25, the party became the first to cross the 80th parallel, beyond which all maps were blank. "It has always been our ambition to get inside that white space and now we are there so the space can no longer be a blank; this compensates for a lot of trouble". Hunger now became a problem with the men as rations were significantly reduced in order to preserve what little food they had left. "We cannot stop, we cannot go back, and there is no alternative but to harden our hearts and drive", Scott wrote. "Certainly dog driving is the most terrible work one has to face in this sort of business". On December 5 Scott wrote, "The events of the day's march are now becoming so dreary and dispiriting that one longs to forget them when we camp; it is an effort even to record them in a diary. Our utmost efforts could not produce more than three miles for the whole march". Five days later the first dog died. The other dogs pounced on the fallen animal and ate the corpse. They decided to try and save the best nine dogs by feeding them the flesh of the others. Wilson volunteered for the job of butchering as Scott considered the job "a moral cowardice of which I am heartily ashamed". The victim was led away, with tail wagging, as the others howled in anticipation of the meal to come. Scott wrote, "We can only keep them on the move by constant shouting; this devolves on me. Stripes and Brownie doing absolutely nothing and vomiting. Poor old Grannie pulled till she could pull no longer and lay down in the snow; they put her on a sledge and she soon died. The dogs take away all idea of enjoying the marches".

More problems appeared as Dr. Wilson noticed that Shackleton's gums were swollen, the first sign of scurvy. Portions of seal meat were increased but "hunger is gripping us very tightly". On December 20 Wilson lay awake all night from sheer hunger. On December 26 snow-blindness was bothering Wilson's eyes so badly that he finally told Scott. The next day he hauled his sledge blindfolded as Scott described to him the mountains that were coming into view. Within sight was a huge peak which was larger than any mountain they had seen thus far. They estimated its height at 13,000 feet and named it Mt. Markham. Scott decided to turn for home on December 31, having reached 82°17'S. They had traveled 300 miles farther south than anyone before them and were only 480 statute miles from the Pole.

A dog a day was dropping dead or being slaughtered. Bismark was killed on January 4, Boss dropped behind and was never seen again, and when Kid died, they gave up trying to drive the rest and instead set them free to follow behind. When they were down to one day's ration, Scott pulled out his telescope and spotted the depot left on the outward march. Meanwhile, Shackleton's scurvy symptoms had reappeared; his throat was congested, his breath short, his gums were red and swollen and he started to spit blood. Now there were only two men to pull the sledges as Shackleton could only walk beside them in order to avoid too much exertion. On January 18, 1903, Shackleton completely gave out which forced them to camp for a number of days. Finally, on January 28 they reached Depot A, only sixty miles from the ship. "At length and at last we have reached the land of plenty". With Shackleton aboard one of the sledges, the team set off the next day and sledged fifteen miles. On February 2, White Island came into view and Scott wrote,"We are as near spent as three persons can be". On February 3, Skelton and Bernacchi came out and greeted them. Soon they were back on the ship with handshakes and congratulations coming from all. They had been gone for ninety-three days and had covered 960 statute miles.

L to R: Shackleton, Scott, Wilson

The MORNING, commanded by William Colbeck, had left Lyttleton on December 6, 1902. On January 24, 1903 she made fast with ice-anchors to the flow off Hut Point. A party from the MORNING delivered bags of mail; Royds alone had sixty-two letters and a cake. But all the talk was whether the eight or nine miles of ice that penned in the DISCOVERY would break up and be carried out to sea in time for her to return with the MORNING to Lyttleton. Colbeck could not risk leaving any later than the end of February and by February 10 it appeared the DISCOVERY would not break free as new ice was forming. On February 22 they tried blowing holes in the ice with explosives to crack the floes but this didn't work. By the 25th Scott accepted the fact that the MORNING would have to leave without them or risk being trapped itself. Fourteen tons of stores were offloaded onto the ice along with twenty tons of coal. The crew of the MORNING sledged them half way at which point they met the DISCOVERY crew who finished the sledge back to Hut Point.

The MORNING had one other primary purpose to fulfill: to remove any members of the expedition who wished to return to civilization. Eight men applied to return with the MORNING but Scott struggled with how to handle Shackleton. In his diary, Scott wrote that "On board he would have remained a source of anxiety, and would never have been able to do hard out-door work".

Dr. Koettlitz then put his opinion in writing: "Mr. Shackleton's breakdown during the southern sledge journey was undoubtedly, in Dr. Wilson's opinion, due in great part to scurvy taint. I certainly agree with him; he has now practically recovered from it, but referring to your memo: as to the duties of an executive officer, I cannot say that he would be fit to undergo hardships and exposure in this climate". Shackleton went home. There is much controversy over this decision as rumors were in circulation that Scott had other reasons for sending Shackleton home. Armitage disagreed with Scott's decision and bitterness towards Scott grew through the years that followed. Before the departure of the MORNING, Scott went so far as to suggest that Armitage go home to be with his wife and a child that he had never seen. Armitage was offended and insulted and later wrote, "I had been told that Sir Clements Markham intended to make the expedition a great Royal Navy one only, but all went well with me for the first year, when Scott thought that he had enough experience to go on his own--he had not --then he endeavoured to rid himself of all the Merchant Service element. When he, in a most kindly manner, suggested that I should return in the MORNING, I absolutely refused. But he never forgave me, as not only did I destroy the RN idea, but he feared that I would obtain kudos which he desired". It was in fact Armitage who never forgave Scott.

Once it was realized that the MORNING would sail alone, all the men got busy writing letters. On March 1, 1903 there was a farewell party on the MORNING which went on for half the night. The next morning the MORNING set sail. Shackleton shed tears as he watched his friends and shipmates drop out of sight. In his place, Sub-Lieutenant George Mulock, aged twenty-one, transferred to the DISCOVERY.

The winter of 1903 set in earlier and was much colder than the year before. Sledging plans were made for the following season while resentment grew between Scott and Armitage. Royds wanted to go back to Cape Crozier to look for more penguin eggs while Armitage wanted to go south across the Barrier, more or less in Scott's footsteps. Royds wrote, "In my opinion, his sole

wish is to beat the Captain's record. This the Captain wouldn't allow, though not for that reason by any means". This put Scott in an awkward position. If he refused, Armitage would charge that Scott wanted to keep the "farthest south" record to himself and not "let a subordinate have a go". This raised the question with Scott: are they there to do scientific and discovery work or are they there to compete for a dash to the South Pole? Scott clearly felt that it was the first-named objective. Scott could find no purpose in allowing Armitage to make a dash to the south as he felt, without dogs, Armitage would be fortunate to get as far as he had and would only risk death for himself and his party. It simply made no sense to Scott. Wilson wrote, "The Captain worked out the possibilities on paper and showed them to me, and I agreed with him in thinking it was far better to apply all our sledging energies to new work, rather than covering old ground with the chance of doing so little at the end of it. The upshot of it all is that Armitage is off the sledging list for this year altogether, though whether this is due to himself or anyone else I cannot say". Armitage's resentment only deepened.

On August 21, 1903 the rim of the sun appeared for the first time over the horizon. The sledging plans were pinned to the notice board with instructions for everyone to return and be back on board DISCOVERY by December 15 so that all hands could work together to free the ship, if possible before the return of the MORNING. There were to be two major ventures, each with a supporting party to lay depots and then return. Scott was to go west up the Ferrar glacier as far as he could get; Barne was to explore an inlet south of McMurdo Strait. The first to leave the ship, on September 7, were Royds, Wilson and four men, bound for Cape Crozier. The journey was rather uneventful as eggs and two live chicks were collected. On the trip back to the ship the temperature fell to -61°F which resulted in significant frostbite among the men. They arrived back at the ship without any further hardship. On September 9 Scott set out with Skelton and four others to lay a depot in preparation for the ascent of the western mountains. Meanwhile, Barne's party was out on the Barrier laying a depot southeast of White Island where the mercury in their thermometer dropped to -67.7°F and then broke. Scott's team left for their main journey on October 12. With four sledges, hauling 200 pounds per man, they reached New Harbor and dragged their loads up Ferrar glacier to a basin at about 4500 feet. The runners on the sledges became damaged to the point that the whole team had to turn around and travel eighty-seven miles back to the ship for repairs. Five days later they started out again and this time they succeeded in struggling to the top of the mountains where they were caught in a blizzard that nearly buried them alive. It was the most miserable week of his life, Scott wrote. They spent twenty-two out of every twenty-four hours in their sleeping bags for a whole week. They only climbed out long enough to get the cooker going and eat a hot meal. On November 14 they reached the summit at 8900 feet where they found themselves on a flat plain. For the next two weeks they sledged due west. A constant icy wind produced raw and bleeding lips. Lashly wrote, "The wind seems to be very troublesome here". On December 1 the team turned back. Scott wrote, "I don't know where we are but I know we must be a long way to the west. As long as I live, I never want to revisit the summit of Victoria Land". He was disappointed to find it an endless plateau nearly 9000 feet above sea level.

It was now a familiar story: hunger, exhaustion, deep sastrugi, fog, snowdrift, frostbite and snow-blindness. Food ran short and oil was nearly gone. On December 14 Scott faced the fact that they were lost. They had reached the edge of the plateau and were beginning to descend when Lashly slipped and started to slide on his back down the slope. In the process, he took the legs out from under the others and down they went, sledge and all, and when they came to a halt, they were stunned to find themselves at the head of the glacier, in familiar territory, only five or six miles from their depot. Miraculously, there were no broken bones. In Lashly's words, "all of a sudden the Captain and Evans disappeared down a crevasse and carried away one of the sledge runners, leaving me on top. It was now my duty to try and get them up again". Scott and Evans were left dangling with blue walls of ice on either side and nothingness below. Remarkably, Scott was able to swing his feet around and grip the wall with his crampons. Using the last of his strength, Scott was able to climb out to safety while Lashly pulled Evans up, whose only comment was "Well, I'm blowed". That night they reached the depot and eight days later, on Christmas Eve, they reached the ship. In fifty-nine days they had hauled their sledge 725 miles.

Only four men were at the ship to greet them when they arrived as the others were out on the

ice, ten miles away, sawing and blasting at the ice in the hope of breaking it up to a point where the DISCOVERY could be freed. Scott was pleased that all the sledging trips had returned safely. On the western mountains Ferrar had discovered a fossil leaf. Wilson was pleased with the results of his "penguin" expedition.

By the end of December, "twenty miles of ice hangs heavy on me". Scott had to start preparations for a third winter at Hut Point. On January 5, 1904 a ship came into view. It was the MORNING and a few minutes later, Wilson exclaimed, "Why, there's another". Wilson wrote, "We were dumbfounded". Wilson and Scott set off for the two ships and were subsequently greeted at the edge of the ice by four men speaking "such perfect Dundee that we could hardly understand a word they said". They were from the second ship, the TERRA NOVA . Soon Wilson and Scott were aboard the MORNING receiving their mail and questioning their old friend William Colbeck as to why two relief ships were at anchor in McMurdo Sound.

TERRA NOVA and MORNING reach the DISCOVERY When the MORNING returned from the Antarctic in 1903, Markham was delighted with the news of Scott's expedition but clearly a second relief expedition would be necessary. Unfortunately, there was little money left so together with Sir William Huggins, Markham appealed to the Government for a grant of £12,000. Markham knew all along that a second relief expedition would be necessary but this was a fact he had concealed from the Government when the original plans were laid. The Government felt misled and promptly took the matter out of the hands of the Societies. If left up to Markham and his group, the Government felt they would find an excuse to leave them on the ice for yet another year. The Government would take no chances as the goal would be to get the men home, safe and sound, even if it meant abandoning the DISCOVERY. On June 20, 1903 the Government agreed to pay for the relief expedition provided the MORNING was handed over "absolutely and at once", free of charge, to the Admiralty. Reluctantly, both societies agreed and the MORNING now had new owners. Sir William Wharton, the hydrographer,

was appointed by the Admiralty as chairman to the newly formed Antarctic Relief Committee.

Now the Government took an odd position. Wharton wrote, "It cannot be considered as certain that the MORNING could get through single-handed, and a second vessel, if a suitable one could be found, would be a great additional safeguard". This decision by the Admiralty came on June 22, 1903 which gave them little more than four months to locate, refit and get her to Lyttleton by mid November. Wharton investigated resources all over Europe in an attempt to find a worthy whaling vessel that could accomplish the goal and it was from St. John's, Newfoundland that the suggestion came to purchase the TERRA NOVA. She was considerably larger than the MORNING at 744 tons and 187 feet in length, and she came at a hefty price. She was purchased on July 6 for £20,000, some £17,200 more than Markham paid for the MORNING and well above her appraised value. Try as they might, by the time she was ready to sail it was simply too late in the season for the TERRA NOVA to reach New Zealand on her own and still leave enough time to make McMurdo Sound. So, Wharton instructed her to be towed by naval vessels as far as the Persian Gulf from where she would continue on under her own sail and steam. HMS MINERVA towed her from Portsmouth to Gibraltar, HMS VINDICTIVE took her on to Aden and from there HMS FOX towed her to an area 120 miles off the east coast of Socotra where she was left on her own for the final leg. The TERRA NOVA abandoned plans to meet the MORNING in Lyttleton as it was closer to sail directly to Hobart, Tasmania and meet up with her there. The two ships met in Hobart on October 31 and together they departed for McMurdo Sound.

Scott and his fellow officers were not only dismayed, but insulted, by the arrival of the TERRA NOVA along with the MORNING. They had no idea of the problems encountered by Markham in England but one thing they knew for certain: one ship was all that was needed and to send two implied they were in deep trouble and unable to handle things on their own. Scott wrote, "It was not a little trying to be offered relief to an extent which seemed to suggest that we have been reduced to the direst need. No healthy man likes to be thought an invalid". Scott was very concerned that his career would be jeopardized. After all, if found an incompetent commander by his superiors, he might as well forget any promotion upon their return. Ironically, the Government seemed concerned that the expedition might be having too good a time. To them it made no sense to have their officers and men remain indefinitely in the Antarctic on full pay, all the while feasting on seals and provisions sent at great expense in an annual relief ship. In July 1903 the Government "could not consent to the officers and men of the Royal Navy being employed in any further expedition in the ice, even if sufficient private funds were raised for such a purpose, and that Commander Scott will receive directions to this effect". These directions were given to Colbeck, commander of the TERRA NOVA. To make matters even worse, instructions were given to Colbeck to have the DISCOVERY abandoned if she could not be freed from the ice. Scott was furious. In normal conditions "a sailor would go through much rather than abandon his ship but the ties which bound us to the DISCOVERY were very far beyond the ordinary", Scott wrote. She was dearly loved by her crew; she had been their home for two and a half years. She was considered the finest ship ever built for such a task and to abandon her would be like a broken marriage; it may not have been their fault but the men would have returned "as castaways with the sense of failure dominating the results of our labours".

Twenty miles of ice separated the ship from open water in mid January. Captain Mackay of the TERRA NOVA felt the departure date should not extend beyond February 25, 1904 and Colbeck agreed. Blasting and sawing proved useless so nothing was left but to pray for southeasterly gales. Aboard the DISCOVERY Scott read the Admiralty's instructions to his crew and "There was a stony silence. I have not heard a laugh in the ship since I returned".

The crew began the difficult task of transferring all the scientific collections and equipment to the MORNING and TERRA NOVA. For the next five weeks the ice slowly began to break up. An all-out attack on the ice was put into gear. Explosives, saws and everything imaginable was used in an attempt to free the ship. On January 27 Scott wrote, "I fear, I much fear, things are going badly for us". Royds wrote, "It is perfectly sickening. Why doesn't it break up? What the devil is holding it? The prospects are as cheerless as they could be and I could simply scream at our absolute helplessness". The thermometer fell to -14°F. By February 3 Royds wrote, "things look

hopeless...everything is at a standstill". On February 12, Royds wrote, "As I write, the TERRA NOVA is now only about two miles away and the ice continues to break away. The ice was simply rushing out in huge lumps and floes, every blast sending more out, and cracking well behind". Now they worked harder than ever to free the ship as destiny was in the balance. St. Valentine's Day saw the break they needed as Scott and others raced up to Hut Point and noted that "The ice was breaking-up right across the strait, and with a rapidity which we had not thought possible. I have never witnessed a more impressive sight; the sun was low behind us, the surface of the ice-sheet in front was intensely white, and in contrast the distant sea and its forking leads looked almost black. The wind had fallen to a calm, and not a sound disturbed the stillness about us. Yet in the midst of this peaceful scene was an awful unseen urgency rending that great ice-sheet as though it had been naught but the thinnest paper...now without a word, without an effort on our part, it was all melting now, and we knew that in an hour or two not a vestige of it would be left, and that the open sea would be lapping on the black rocks of Hut Point".

The relief ships butted their way, side by side, to the DISCOVERY. The men cheered as the TERRA NOVA broke through the last sheet of ice at 10:30 p.m. and freed the DISCOVERY. A few days were hurriedly spent preparing the ships for departure. In memory to George Vince, a final emotional ceremony was held on the ice and a wooden cross was erected to mark his grave.

Despite a difficult departure to open water, the three ships finally were under way, leaving McMurdo Sound on February 19, 1904. Scott decided to take the DISCOVERY round Cape Adare and explore to the west along the northern coast of Victoria Land. The MORNING was to head straight for the Auckland Islands where the three ships would rendezvous and sail together to Lyttleton. After two years in the ice, the DISCOVERY was far from seaworthy; water poured into the holds, the pumps wouldn't work, gales came up and subsequently everyone got seasick since they'd been landlocked for so long. The rudder was in such poor shape that it was ready to fall off; they had a spare but it was only half as big. The farther west they went, the thicker the ice became. Becoming short of coal, the ship turned north to find open water so they could use the sails. By this time she had lost touch with the TERRA NOVA. She was pushed so far north that she missed land altogether and instead rediscovered the Balleny Islands. On March 14 they reached the Auckland Islands with only 10 tons of coal left aboard. Neither of the other ships were there so while they waited, some of the crew cleaned and painted the ship while others went ashore and shot anything that looked edible, including wild cattle and pigs. The New Zealand Government maintained a depot of emergency supplies for the use of shipwrecked sailors (called by sealers Sarah's Bosom). The other vessels showed up a few days later and after three days sailing, on Good Friday, April 1, 1904, they reached Lyttleton Harbor. There was a wonderful welcoming party and guests and reporters swarmed the ships. Unfortunately, a remark made by Scott in a crowd was overheard by a reporter who took the comment totally out of context and falsely reported the incident. The men of the DISCOVERY were in total agreement concerning the absurdity of sending the TERRA NOVA to rescue them. The story published by a Reuter's reporter made headlines in England: Commander Scott emphatically protests against the dispatch by the Admiralty of the TERRA NOVA, which he declares to have been a wasteful expense of money. He says that had the proper position of the DISCOVERY been made known, it would have been obvious that she was perfectly safe, and no assistance beyond that which the MORNING could render was requisite. Scott felt his goose was cooked when it came to a promotion. Even Royds commented, "Although it was the truth, he never said it".

Back home, matters weren't much better. Together with his brother-in-law, Scott was still supporting his mother. His two sisters were having a difficult time in the dressmaking industry as his mother wrote, "it is really a bad season, and no money going". Scott felt if he was not promoted, a certain life of poverty would return. Scott wrote to his mother from New Zealand, "If they wait till we get home, then two or three persons will inevitably leap over my head. The question is whether they will pass me over in June. It is such a close thing that it must make a great deal of difference".

Meanwhile, the ship was in need of repairs and yet money was so tight that Scott only paid the

regular crewmembers while the officers were left to fend for themselves. Everyone wrote home from Lyttleton. Royds and Wilson wrote to Scott's mother, Hannah, telling her how proud they were of her son's efforts. Wilson wrote, "Without a doubt he has been the making of the Expedition and not one of us will but feel more and more grateful to him for the way he has acted throughout. Notwithstanding that it is a difficult thing, at least I imagine it is, for the Captain to make intimate friends with anyone, I feel as though we were real friends, and I need hardly say I am proud of it".

The DISCOVERY was placed in dry dock for two months to complete repairs. Meanwhile, Scott was wined and dined by dignitaries all over the island. Scott wrote his mother, "We have had a very good time here but it is high time we were off, as all our young men are getting engaged. Skelton is actually caught. I believe the young lady is very nice". The young lady was Sybil. Others were caught as well: Teddy Evans of the MORNING and Ferrar among the officers, Blissett and Weller among the men.

Incredibly, Royds and Scott were taken to court and fined £5 for shooting cattle on Enderby Island, in the Auckland Islands, while waiting for the other ships to rendezvous. Although running wild, they had no idea the cattle were private property.

As for the scientists work, the collections went to the British Museum of Natural History and their statistical material to the Royal Society. Upon arrival in England, all the scientists went their separate ways. Wilson worked on his huge collection at the Natural History Museum. He never went back to medical practice. The Service men had no problems with future employment; they simply slipped back into their regular jobs without any loss of seniority. Royd's figured it would take ten years before a promotion and he was quite accurate as he did not reach rank of Captain until 1914. Skelton made a brilliant career for himself in the Royal Navy. But it was Scott who pondered his fate as the Discovery sailed from Lyttleton on June 8, 1904. On September 10, over three years after leaving, the Discovery reached Spithead.

Sir Clements Markham and his wife were aboard the ship when she steamed into Portsmouth Harbor where "All the men of war, and a line of boats sent from Whale Island, gave hearty cheers". It was here that Scott learned of his appointment as post-Captain which was to take effect the following day. In his welcoming speech at the East India Docks on September 16, Markham declared, "Never has any polar expedition returned with so great a harvest of scientific results". Truly, this had been the most revealing of all Antarctic exploration as meticulous records were kept on the scientific work. But Scott could not accept full credit as he proclaimed that "An Antarctic expedition is not a one-man show, not a two-man show, nor a ten-man show. It means the co-operation of all...There has been nothing but a common desire to work for the common good".

Scott now moved his mother and two sisters to a house they found at 56 Oakley Street, off the Chelsea Embankment. This was to be Scott's home for four years and it still stands today marked by a blue commemorative plaque.

Initially, Scott received royal thanks but his only honor was the appointment to Commander of the Victorian Order, a step up from the Membership which he already had. Even the press hounded the Government as they felt he should have at least received an Order of the Bath, if not a knighthood.

An exhibition at the Bruton Galleries opened on November 4, 1904, which drew an estimated 10,000 visitors. Inside were a collection of Wilson's drawings, Skelton's photographs, a model of the DISCOVERY, sledging equipment and rations. On November 7 Scott gave his first big lecture to 7,000 invited members and guests of the two Societies at Albert Hall. Now the praise was raining down on Scott. He was awarded the Patron's Gold Medal of the RGS, was made a member of the French Legion of Honour and the Russian Geographical Society, and received medals from the Geographical Societies of Philadelphia, Denmark and Sweden. What pleased him most was an honorary degree of Doctor of Science from Cambridge University. When he left London he headed for Edinburgh for more lectures and the Royal Geographical Society's

Livingstone Medal. Shackleton had arranged this and now the two were on excellent terms. Scott wrote his mother, "Everyone is very pleased with Shackleton. He is showing great energy and business capacity". Scott traveled with Shackleton to Glasgow and Dundee for more speaking engagements. Meanwhile, Markham pleaded with the Government to retain the DISCOVERY for future polar work but his remarks fell on deaf ears. She was sold to the highest bidder, the Hudson's Bay Company, for £10,000, about one-fourth her original cost.

Scott continued to travel around the country giving lectures and making preparations to publish a book about the expedition. Scott wrote, "Of all things I dread having to write a narrative and am wholly doubtful of my capacity; in any event if I have to do it, it will take me a long time. I have not...the pen of a ready writer". By the start of 1905 the book was nearly completed. On October 12, 1905, in an edition of 3000 copies, the Voyage of the Discovery was published. An incredible piece of work, the two-volume edition was profusely illustrated with Wilson's drawings and Skelton's photographs. Scott needlessly worried about his abilities for writing as nearly all the critics praised it. The Times Literary Supplement called it "a masterly work". His former crewmembers each received a free copy and they all loved it. Scott insisted on sending Wilson a check for £100 as a fee for reproducing his drawings; Wilson refused but Scott made him take it anyway. (Today, a single drawing can fetch $10,000 or more.) The book sold reasonably well; the first edition sold out immediately so 1500 more copies were printed the following month. But then the sales fell dramatically; when the book went out of print in 1919, total sales amounted to 5,272 copies. (Try to find one!) Scott was a little concerned with Armitage's newly published book, Two Years in the Antarctic which also came out in the autumn of 1905, but he wrote nothing derogatory about his former leader.

Scott was single and thirty-seven years old when, in April 1906, he announced at an RGS meeting that "I am sorry to say that my lines are cast in such places that in all probability I shall not return to those regions". But there was a great deal of emotion as in the same speech he touched on "those fields of snow sparkling in the sun, the pack-ice and bergs and blue sea, and those mountains, those glorious southern mountains, rearing their heads in desolate grandeur. The movements of the pack, those small mysterious movements with the hush sound that comes across the water, and I hear also the swish of the sledge...I cannot explain to you, they will always drag my thought back to those good times when these things were before me". Bernacchi wrote years later, "Those were golden days and their memories are fraught with joy". Michael Barne, with frostbitten fingers, was already trying to raise money to finance his own expedition. Later in April, Scott was saying that "in all probability" he would return to the Antarctic as London society expected him to make a dash for the Pole. In September, Scottish playwright J. M. Barrie wrote to Scott, "I chuckle with joy to hear all the old hankerings are coming back to you. I feel you have to go out again, and I too keep an eye open for the man with the dollars". By early 1907 , Scott had made up his mind to lead a second expedition to the Antarctic.

The TERRA NOVA Expedition 1910-13On January 28, 1907 Scott wrote to the secretary of the Royal Geographical Society, Mr. Scott Keltie, requesting financial assistance (£30,000) for a second expedition to Antarctica. He was already in touch with Barne, Mulock and Skelton of the DISCOVERY EXPEDITION. Unfortunately, Ernest Shackleton announced on February 12 that he was pressing forward with his own plans to lead an expedition to the South Pole. He had already raised £30,000 and was soliciting the RGS for help as well. Now the RGS felt caught in the middle which led to a huge rift between Scott and Shackleton that was never to be closed. A Clydebank shipbuilder, William Beardmore, had agreed to guarantee funding for Shackleton with the money to be repaid on Shackleton's return by writing a book, lecturing and selling articles. Shackleton tried to persuade Mulock to join him but Mulock declined because he had already committed to Scott. This caught Shackleton by surprise as he had no idea that Scott was planning on a return expedition. Dr.

Wilson was also approached by Shackleton but likewise declined as he was in the middle of an exhaustive project concerning his bird research in Antarctica; it just wouldn't be appropriate to abandon his studies at this time. The day after Wilson received the request from Shackleton, a letter showed up from Scott in which he was curious if Shackleton had mentioned his own desire to return to McMurdo Sound. This was the first Wilson had heard of Scotts' plans. Scott was clearly upset for essentially one basic reason: the view that an explorer may have an exclusive right to his own territory was an unspoken given. As the Frenchman Jean Charcot said, "There can be no doubt that the best way to the Pole is by way of the Great Ice Barrier, but this we regard as belonging to the English explorers, and I do not propose to trespass on other people's grounds". Shackleton had announced that he intended to make his winter quarters at McMurdo Sound, an announcement that should have been respectfully cleared through Scott first. The courtesy was never extended to his former commander. Nevertheless, Scott made an effort to not let his personal feelings stand in his way as he wrote Scott Keltie on March 1 and told him, "..it is our duty to work together as Englishmen, I mean you, I and Shackleton and all concerned. The first thing is to defeat the foreigners. Whether Shackleton goes or I go or we both go, we must let Arctowski clearly understand that the Ross Sea area is England's and we will not appreciate designs on it". On the other hand, Dr. Wilson wrote Shackleton, "I think that if you go to McMurdo Sound, and even reach the Pole, the gilt will be off the gingerbread, because of the insinuation which will almost certainly appear in the minds of a good many, that you forestalled Scott who had a prior claim on the use of that base". Shackleton and Scott met in London on May 17, 1907 where Shackleton put in writing to leave "McMurdo Sound base to you, and land either at the place known as the Barrier Inlet or at King Edward VII Land, whichever is the most suitable. If I land at either of those places I will not work to the westward of the 170 meridian W and shall not make any sledge journey going West...I think this outlines my plan, which I shall rigidly adhere to, and I hope this letter meets you on the points that you desire". Scott replied, "Your letter is a very clear statement of the arrangement to which we came. If as you say you will rigidly adhere to it, I do not think our plans will clash". Shackleton bought a small, dilapidated sealer, the NIMROD, and attracted two former mates from the DISCOVERY expedition to join him, Frank Wild and Ernest Joyce. The NIMROD sailed from the East India docks on July 30, 1907, taking a motor car, the first to be landed in Antarctica.

Scott went back to sea as Captain of HMS ALBERMARLE, a battleship with a complement of over 700 men. His appointment ended on August 25, 1907 and Scott went on half-pay until his next appointment, on January 1, 1908, to HMS Essex. It was between appointments that Scott met, for the second time, a twenty-eight-year-old sculptor, Kathleen Bruce. The two were invited to tea at Mabel Beardsley's where Kathleen was struck by Scott's "rare smile". Scott was hooked and for the next ten days he either visited with her or wrote love notes: "Uncontrollable footsteps carried me along the embankment to find no light--yet I knew you were there dear heart--I saw the open window and, in fancy, a sweetly tangled head of hair upon the pillow within--dear head--it seems so long till Friday--give me all the time you can". By the end of November the two were engaged to be married.

 Kathleen Bruce

Although Con felt he owed his mother his allegiance, Hannah wrote that "You must never let me be a hindrance to your making a home and a life of your own. You have carried the burden of the family since 1894. It is time now for you to think of yourself and your future. God bless and keep you".

Meanwhile, Shackleton and the crew of the NIMROD could not penetrate the ice pack to reach King Edward VII Land so they had to turn back and land the explorer's party at McMurdo Sound. This broke his promise to Scott and as the NIMROD steamed westwards, Shackleton wrote to his wife, "I have been through a sort of hell since the 23rd (January 1908) and I cannot even now realise that I am on the way back to McMurdo Sound and that all idea of wintering on the Barrier at King Edward VII Land is at an end--that I have had to break my word to Scott and go back to the old base, and that all my plans and

ideas have now to be changed--changed by the overwhelming forces of Nature...I never knew what it was to make such a decision as the one I was forced to make last night". Scott felt that this was Shackleton's intention from the very beginning and thus felt further betrayed.

Con and Kathleen's courtship continued into 1908. Although he never mentioned any attempt at the Pole, Kathleen wrote Con in July 1908 asking him to "Write and tell me that you shall go to the Pole. Oh dear me what's the use of having energy and enterprise if a little thing like that can't be done. It's got to be done, so hurry up and don't leave a stone unturned--and love me more and more, because I need it". Finally, on September 2, 1908, Con and Kathleen were married in the Chapel Royal at Hampton Court.

A sailor's wife in those days was one to be pitied as husbands were generally at sea for perhaps ninety percent of their married life. The wife was left to maintain the home and care for the children while the husband was away at sea, presumably having a gay old time with his fellow sailors and a wife in every port. This was a popular theory but in this case, the opposite were true. Kathleen was living it up in London with all her friends while making a name for herself as a sculptor. Meanwhile, Con was living a lonely life as captain aboard the HMS BULWARK. But Kathleen had her moments too, as she wrote Con in November 1908, telling him she was as "desperately, deeply, violently and wholly in love" as he was and was missing him terribly. "There's something so terribly real about you. I used to mend your trouser placquette hole and there's something grotesquely real about that. I never used to know anything about loneliness. Sir have you robbed me of my self-sufficiency?" Early in 1909 good news finally arrived. Kathleen wrote, "My love my dear love my very dear love throw up your cap and shout and sing triumphantly for it seems we are in a fair way to achieve my aim". Kathleen was pregnant. Also, an opportunity arose for Con to spend nine months living at home with his wife as an ordinary human. A position as Naval Assistant to Admiral Sir Francis Bridgeman was offered and accepted at the end of March 1909.

Also in March 1909 the news came that Shackleton had not reached the Pole. Despite all the hardships, Shackleton, Adams, Marshall and Wild had crossed the Barrier, struggled up the glacier which Shackleton named after his patron, Mr. Beardmore, and planted the flag at 88°23'S, some 97 miles from the Pole. Meanwhile, Professor Edgeworth David, Scott's surgeon A. F. Mackay and Douglas Mawson pushed on beyond the point reached by Scott on his western journey in 1903 and planted a flag on the South Magnetic Pole.

On July 1, 1909, Scott wrote Shackleton, "If as I understand it does not cut across any plans of your own, I propose to organise the expedition to the Ross Sea which as you know I have had so long in preparation so as to start next year. I am sure you will wish me success; but of course I should be glad to have your assurance that I am not disconcerting any plans of your own". Shackleton replied that his plans "will not interfere with any plans of mine". On September 13, 1909, Scott announced his plans: "The main object of the expedition is to reach the South Pole and secure for the British Empire the honour of that achievement". That very same day a son, Peter, was born to Kathleen and Con. James Berrie, a personal friend and the Scots playwright who wrote "Peter Pan", and Clements Markham were chosen as the godfathers.

On April 6, 1909, Robert Edwin Peary, a fifty-six-year-old commander on leave from the US Navy, together with Matthew Henson, his Negro servant and companion, reached the North Pole on their sixth attempt. The North was won so all thoughts of polar exploration now turned towards the South. Several nations now commenced with preparations for the trek: Peary announced in New York his plans to form an Antarctic expedition with the goal of the Pole attained by embarking from a region within the Weddell Sea; Germany's Lieutenant Wilhelm Filchner announced similar plans as the Americans but with the added goal of being the first to march right across the Pole in a trans-Antarctic expedition ending in McMurdo Sound; Frenchman Jean-Baptiste Charcot was exploring regions in Graham Land; the Japanese, led by

Lieutenant Nobu Shirase, planned an expedition to the very region which Scott hoped to explore in King Edward VII Land.

Scott went to work to raise the needed £40,000 for the expedition. Unfortunately, donations were slow in coming. Sir Edgar Speyer, the City financier, became Honorary Treasurer of the British Antarctic Expedition's fund and donated £1,000. Touring the countryside giving lectures to unenthusiastic audiences, Scott spent many cold nights in cheap hotel rooms. "Between £20 and £30 from Wolverhampton...£40 today...nothing from Wales...this place won't do, I'm wasting my time to some extent...I don't think there is a great deal of money in the neighbourhood...things have been so-so here...I spoke not well but the room was beastly and attendance small...another very poor day yesterday, nearly everyone out", Scott wrote. But, £2,000 came from Manchester, £1,387 from Cardiff and £750 from Bristol.

In November 1909 Shackleton got the knighthood Scott had missed and his book, The Heart of the Antarctic, was published.

In January 1910 the Government announced a grant of £20,000 and now the expedition could buy a ship. Scott wanted the DISCOVERY but the Hudson's Bay Company refused to sell her. After considering several others, Scott purchased the TERRA NOVA for a down payment of £5,000 with a promise of an additional £7,500 when the funds could be raised.

Experiments with motor sledges were now under way. Michael Barne, still dealing with frostbitten hands from the DISCOVERY EXPEDITION, had designed a new sledge. (Barne declined the opportunity to join Scott and was married before the departure of the TERRA NOVA). Early in March 1910, Scott went to Norway with Kathleen, Reginald Skelton, two mechanics and a "motor expert", Bernard Day, to test the experimental sledges. While in Christiania, Nansen introduced an expert skier, Tryggve Gran, to them. Gran was planning his own assault on the Pole but dropped his plans and joined Scott. Lieutenant Teddy Evans, who had talked his way into his appointment in the MORNING, had started to raise funds for yet another expedition to the Pole. When he heard of Scott's plans, he agreed to abandon his personal desires and join forces with Scott provided he was offered the position of second-in-command. Although Skelton was deeply hurt, Scott could not refuse the offer as the funds raised by Evans would be a real windfall. Evans was given the charge of getting the ship prepared for the South. Upon her return from the DISCOVERY expedition, the TERRA NOVA had been used for whaling and sealing and was now in a filthy, stinking condition.

The Crew

Money may have been slow in coming but volunteers were coming in from all over the world. More than 8,000 men volunteered to join the expedition. Five members of the DISCOVERY crew were accepted: Petty Officers Thomas Williamson, Edgar Evans and Thomas Crean, also Chief Stoker William Lashly and William Heald. The scientists were carefully picked and from the onset, Edward Wilson was Scott's first choice. Three geologists were chosen: two Australians, Frank Debenham and T. Griffith Taylor, plus Raymond Priestley who had been with Shackleton's NIMROD EXPEDITION. Canadian Charles Wright was selected as the physicist while George Simpson came from the Indian meteorological service. The one physicist who didn't go was the young lecturer from the University of Adelaide, Douglas Mawson, who was making his own plans, like many others, to explore an unmapped stretch of coast and country west of Victoria Land. In a letter to Griffith Taylor on February 15, 1910, Mawson wrote, "I am almost getting up an expedition of my own...Scott will not do certain work that ought to be done...I quite agree that to do much would be to detract from his chances of the Pole and because of that I am not pressing the matter any further. Certainly I think he is missing the main possibilities of scientific work in the Antarctic by travelling over Shackleton's old route. However he must beat the Yankees...". The biologists were Edward Nelson and D. G. Lillie.

While Wilson was selecting the scientists, Scott and Evans worked on forming the rest of the crew. From the Admiralty came naval lieutenants: Harry Pennell, navigator and magnetic observer, Henry Rennick in charge of the hydrographical surveys and deep-sea soundings and

Victor Campbell. Two Lieutenant-Surgeons, G. Murray Levick and Edward Atkinson, were appointed along with twenty-six petty officers and seamen. Various other volunteers were taken for a number of reasons. Herbert Ponting was a skilled, experienced photographer whose pictures taken during the Russo-Japanese War and been published in leading magazines in Great Britain and the United States. Apsley Cherry-Garrard, aged twenty-four and a relative of Reginald Smith's, contributed £1,000 to be appointed assistant biologist. Captain L. E. G. Oates of the 6th Inniskilling Dragoons, who walked with a slight limp due to a wound received in the Boer War, also contributed a similar amount and was put in charge of the ponies as this was his area of expertise. Like Oates, Henry Bowers, of the Royal Indian Marine, came from India to join the expedition. Bowers, a WORCESTER cadet, was a short, stocky man with red hair and a large nose which quickly earned him the nickname Birdie. Another former cadet from the WORCESTER, Wilfrid Bruce, joined the expedition. This was Kathleen's thirty-six-year-old brother. Bruce was instructed to travel to Vladivostok and meet up with Cecil Meares who had just selected twenty Siberian-bred ponies and thirty-four sledge-dogs for the expedition. The animals were escorted to Lyttleton via Japan and Australia. Losing only one pony and one dog on the long journey, the animals were inoculated ten times and put ashore on Quail Island.

Perhaps Scott still retained fresh memories of the disastrous results with the dogs during his southern journey on the DISCOVERY EXPEDITION, but whatever the reasons, his transportation choices undoubtedly led to the expedition's final results. The motor sledges were obviously experimental, since none had ever been used before, while the ponies would prove an even weaker link in the disastrous chain of events. It is true that Shackleton took nineteen ponies with him on his NIMROD EXPEDITION, but only four survived to set out on the journey towards the Pole. Of these, one had to be shot at the second depot; another gave up at the third; and by the time they reached the foot of the Beardmore Glacier only one was left. Soon afterwards, this pony fell into a crevasse, leaving Wild, who had been leading him, suspended by one elbow over the dark chasm. Scott planned to use the sledges to motor across the Barrier as far as possible, establishing depots along the way. The ponies would then take over and haul the sledges to the foot of the glacier. Scott felt that the animals would not be able to make it up the glacier but would be a good source of fresh meat upon their return from the Pole. In retrospect, it is felt that Scott would have had an easy go of it to the Pole had he adequately trained men and dogs to make the assault. Nevertheless, Scott wrote, "In my mind no journey ever made with dogs can approach the height of that fine conception which is realised when a party of men go forth to face hardships, dangers, and difficulties with their own unaided efforts, and by days and weeks of hard physical labour succeed in solving some problem of the great unknown. Surely in this case the conquest is more nobly and splendidly won". On June 1, 1910, the TERRA NOVA was towed away from the South-West India Docks as cheering crowds stood by. Ponting, who was standing beside Scott, wondered what their homecoming would be like and Scott answered, "I don't care much for this sort of thing (as the crowds cheered and steamers whistled). All I want is to finish the work we began in the DISCOVERY. Then I'll get back to my job in the navy".

Kathleen and Con aboard TERRA NOVA

Scott did not sail with the TERRA NOVA as he remained behind in an attempt to raise additional funding. Scott, with his wife, left the ship at Greenhithe where he was presented two flags by Queen Alexandra, now the Queen Mother: one to be planted at the farthest south attained while the second to be hoisted at the same spot and then brought back. Scott stayed another six weeks before leaving for South Africa to join the ship. Kathleen made the difficult decision of leaving young Peter behind and sailing on with Con as far as Sydney. They sailed in HMS SAXON on July 16, 1910, and were seen off by Wilhelm Filchner and Ernest Shackleton. Also aboard were Edward Wilson's wife, Ory, and Teddy Evans wife, Hilda. They reached Cape Town on August 2, 13 days before the TERRA NOVA. Like the DISCOVERY, the TERRA NOVA was a leaker. The leak wasn't too bad but, nevertheless, everyone took a turn at the hand pumps commencing at 6:00 a.m. and resuming every four hours

around the clock. When the ship reached the tropics, the heat was incredible. After leaving Madeira, the winds became so light that the engines were required. The men sweated and toiled as they fed enormous amounts of coal into the three furnaces. On July 25 the TERRA NOVA anchored off uninhabited South Trinidad Island, some 700 miles east of Brazil. (The DISCOVERY had also visited the island in 1901, when a new petrel, named after Wilson, Estrelata wilsoni, was found). Wilson and Cherry-Garrard, armed with guns, went after the birds; Lillie looked for plants and rocks; Nelson and Simpson searched for fish in pools.

Five new species of spiders were collected and a new moth. After leaving the island, the ship went "booming along" before strong westerlies. They arrived in Simon's Bay, Cape Town on August 15, 1910. The crew was soon reunited with Scott and for the next few days each member was left to himself to do as he pleased.

Although not happy about it, Wilson was instructed to take an ocean liner to Melbourne as Scott took over command of the TERRA NOVA. Mrs. Scott, Mrs. Evans, Wilson and his wife all sailed together aboard RMS CORINTHIC and upon arrival in Melbourne, Wilson consulted with Professor Edgeworth David and selected a third geologist. Meanwhile, Scott was enjoying himself aboard the TERRA NOVA . The object of taking command at Cape Town was to acquaint himself with the crew and select the members of the two shore parties; one party would remain at the expedition's base of operations, in or near McMurdo Sound, carrying out scientific research while the second party made the final assault on the Pole. A splinter group of six men, called the Eastern Party, was to be dispatched in unexplored King Edward VII Land, four hundred miles to the east. This group would be led by Victor Campbell. The naval lieutenants, Pennell and Rennick, would remain in charge of the ship. Scott wrote to his mother, "My companions are delightful".

After six weeks at sea, the TERRA NOVA reached Melbourne on October 12, 1910. Wilson loaded the wives and a bag of mail in a motor launch and set out to find the ship in pitch darkness. Kathleen wrote in her dairy, as they approached the ship "I heard my good man's voice and was sure there was no danger, so insisted, getting more and more unpopular...We at last got close to the beautiful TERRA NOVA with our beautiful husbands on board. They came and looked down into our faces with lanterns".

In Scott's mail was a telegram sent from Madeira on September 9, 1910...a telegram from Amundsen saying "Beg leave inform you proceeding Antarctic. Amundsen". Scott was clearly troubled by this announcement. Scott and much of the public resented the fact that Amundsen's intentions appeared secretive in nature. He had raised money for the publicly proclaimed intention of going to the Arctic, managed to borrow the FRAM from Nansen without payment and then turned about face for the South Pole. When the news arrived that Peary and Hansen had reached the North Pole, Amundsen felt left with little choice: "It was therefore with a clear conscience that I decided to postpone my original plan for a year or two and try to solve the last great problem...the South Pole". Amundsen was heavily in debt and knew if there was any chance to repay his debtors, a spectacular triumph would be needed. The Norwegians left Christiania on August 9, 1910, with ninety-seven Greenland dogs, a hut in sections and provisions for two years. When they arrived in Madeira, only two members of the crew, his brother Leon and the ship's commander, Lieutenant Nilsen, knew of his intentions; the rest of the crew assumed they would be on their way to Buenos Aires and then northwards to the Arctic. At Madeira he informed the crew of his real plans and all consented to go for the South. Amundsen chose to sail directly for the Ross Sea, a non-stop voyage, so the telegram for Scott was left with instructions for it not to be sent until after the FRAM had sailed. Once Amundsen left Madeira, he vanished into the unknown. Clements Markham put his spin on the situation when he stated that "She (the FRAM) has no more sailing qualities than a haystack. In any case, Scott will be on the ground and settled long before Amundsen turns up, if he ever does". On October 15, 1910, Markham reported to the RGS secretary that Amundsen had "quietly got a wintering hut made on board and 100 dogs and a supply of tents and sledges. His secret design must have been nearly a year old. They believe his mention of Punta Aranas and Buenos Aires is merely a blind, and that he is going to McMurdo Sound to try to cut out Scott...If I were Scott I would not let them

land, but he is always too good-natured".

Scott, still chasing money, went on to New Zealand, via Sydney, by way of ocean liner. Meanwhile, Teddy Evans resumed command of the ship as they left the harbor under full sail in full view of the Admiral's 13,000 ton flagship and the rest of the squadron. The Scotts arrived in New Zealand on October 27 and were greeted by Clements Markham's sister, Lady Bowen, and her husband, Sir Charles. They stayed in Lyttleton with the expedition's agent, Joseph J. Kinsey. Kathleen wrote, "There we were for a happy fortnight working and climbing with bare toes and my hair down and the sun and my Con and all the Expedition going well. It was good and by night we slept in the garden and the gods be blest".

The TERRA NOVA arrived and was promptly put into dry dock in order to fix her leak. The ship had her stores rearranged and repacked with everything getting banded: red for the Main Party and green for the Eastern one. The scientific instruments were checked and the hut was erected on land by the men who would have the job of setting it up at winter quarters. The three motor sledges, still in their crates, were lashed to the deck. Oates argued for forty-five tons of food for the ponies. (The ponies and dogs were waiting with Bruce and Meares on Quail Island in Lyttleton Bay). Stalls were built for nineteen ponies while the thirty-nine dogs were chained to bolts and stanchions on the ice-house and the main hatch, between the motor sledges. Scott managed to get 430 tons of coal into the holds and 30 more tons stacked in sacks on the upper deck. Oates managed to get an extra two tons of fodder on board without Scott's knowledge. In the ice-house were three tons of ice, 162 carcasses of mutton, three of beef, and cases of sweetbreads and kidneys. Scientific instruments were everywhere: sledges, an acetylene plant, the wooden huts, clothing, five ton of dog food and hundreds of other items had to be squeezed in...there was hardly room for the men. And, of course, there were other minor details. It seems Petty Officer Evans got drunk again, as in Cardiff, and disgraced the ship; and then the day before the final departure from Port Chalmers, the other Evans came to Scott with details of trouble between the wives. Tempers had flared on the departure of their husbands and Oates reported that "Mrs. Scott and Mrs. Evans had a magnificent battle, they tell me it was a draw after 15 rounds. Mrs. Wilson flung herself into the fight after the 10th round and there was more blood and hair flying about the hotel than you see in a Chicago slaughter-house in a month, the husbands got a bit of the backwash and there is a certain amount of coolness which I hope they won't bring into the hut with them, however it won't hurt me even if they do". Once at sea, all was well and later Kathleen stated, "If ever Con has another expedition, the wives must be chosen more carefully than the men---better still, have none".

On November 26 the TERRA NOVA sailed for Dunedin and Port Chalmers. The Scotts did not sail with her but came back in the harbor tug and spent their last two days together walking over hills to Sumner. The next day, in the afternoon, it was time to say farewell. There were massive cheering crowds on the shore as a tug took off the three wives. Wilson wrote of his wife, Ory, "There on the bridge I saw her disappear out of sight waving happily, a goodbye that will be with me till the day I see her again in this world or the next---I think it will be in this world and some time in 1912". Kathleen wrote, "I didn't say goodbye to my man because I didn't want anyone to see him sad. On the bridge of the tug Mrs. Evans looked ghastly white and said she wanted to have hysterics but instead we took photos of the departing ship. Mrs. Wilson was plucky and good...I mustered them all for tea in the stern and we all chatted gaily except Mrs. Wilson who sat looking somewhat sphinx-like". The ship sailed at 4:30 p.m. on November 29, 1910. For most of the men it would be a year and a half before they would see any green living thing; five others would never return.

Other than a little seasickness, the first few days at sea went quite well. However, on December 2 they were hit by a huge storm that dislodged the deck cargo creating dangerous conditions topside. The seas crashed over the decks, tossing the dogs from one side to the other, as water poured into the engine room and cabins below. The ponies suffered the most and when all was said and done, one dog had been lost overboard while two ponies had been killed. Meanwhile, the seawater mixed with coal dust thereby creating a sludge that choked the bilge pumps. Water quickly rose to the furnaces and, for the first time, the men were in fear of losing their ship. The men finally resorted to using buckets to bale the water out by hand. By morning the seas had begun to settle down. By 10:00 p.m. that evening Williams and Davies had succeeded in cutting

a hole through the engine room bulkhead which allowed Teddy Evans a big enough hole to crawl through so he could reach the pumps. Standing up to his neck in water, Teddy was able to clear the valves and "To the joy of all a good stream of water came from the pump for the first time". Afterwards, Raymond Priestly wrote that the ship at her worst would have given Dante a good idea for another Circle of Hell "though he would have been at a loss to account for such a cheerful and ribald lot of Souls". Bowers wrote, "Under its worst conditions this earth is a good place to live in". Wilson wrote, "I must say I enjoyed it all from the beginning to end". I think this was because he was one of the few who did not suffer from seasickness! About ten tons of coal were lost, sixty-five gallons of petrol and a case of biologists' spirits.

On December 8 the first berg was spotted and on the following day, in latitude 65°8'S, the TERRA NOVA entered the pack. For the next three weeks the ship had to be shoved and bashed through a massive amount of ice, consuming a great deal of precious coal in the process. On December 30 Scott wrote, "We are out of the pack at length and at last one breathes again". On New Year's Day, 1911, Mount Erebus came into view. They attempted to land at Cape Crozier, where they had planned on setting up winter quarters, but the seas were too rough. So, McMurdo Sound was their next option. Rounding the northwest tip of Ross Island, they proceeded down the coast past Cape Royds, Inaccessible Island, and Cape Barne. When they arrived at the Skuary, soon renamed Cape Evans, Scott, Evans and Wilson made the decision to set up winter quarters. About a mile and a half of ice lay between shore and open sea. On January 4 the TERRA NOVA anchored to the ice and the unloading began. The ponies were especially happy to finally be on firm ground as they rolled and kicked in the snow.

The first two motor sledges were unloaded and immediately put to work hauling stores to the new camp. As the third, and largest, sledge was unloaded and hauled by twenty men towards the shore, it decided to break through the ice and sink in sixty fathoms of seawater. Scott blamed himself for the tragedy as he was in a hurry to get the ship unloaded so she could embark with Campbell and his crew for King Edward VII Land.

The hut went up rapidly: it measured fifty feet by twenty-five and was nine feet to the eaves. It was insulated with quilted seaweed, lined with matchboard, lit by acetylene gas, provided with a stove and cooking range and divided into two by a partition made of crates (including the wine) to separate the men's from the officers' quarters. Within two weeks the hut was built and occupied.

Before starting on the depot-laying journey across the Barrier and towards the Pole, Scott and Meares traveled the fifteen miles south to revisit Hut Point. Scott was furious to find a window had been left open. Snow had drifted in and frozen into a solid block of ice. Scott knew that no one was to blame other than Shackleton since he was the last to use the hut when he had based at Cape Evans three years earlier. Scott wrote, "It is difficult to conceive the absolutely selfish frame of mind than can perpetrate a deed like this...finding that such a simple duty had been neglected by one's immediate predecessors disgusted me horribly".

On January 24 the depot-laying party got away, with all the dogs and eight ponies, across the Glacier Tongue and on to the Barrier. Two days later, Scott and a team of dogs went back to the ship across the ice to say good-bye to Lieutenant Pennell and his crew. Scott figured that by the time they returned from the depot-laying, the TERRA NOVA would have already deposited Campbell and his five companions--Raymond Priestly, surgeon Levick, Browning, Dickason and Abbott--somewhere in King Edward VII Land, and would be on her return voyage to New Zealand. Also on board were Griffith Taylor, Frank Debenham, Charles Wright and Edgar Evans who were to do scientific work in the mountains of Victoria Land.

Standing: Debenham and WrightSitting: Taylor and Priestley

Two days later the depot-laying party was on the Barrier, establishing a camp far enough from its edge to be out of any danger of the ice breaking free. They called this Safety Camp and it was from here that they made their final plans for the

push to the Pole. The first doubts about the ponies came as they sank into the soft snow and floundered. One of them actually went lame and although a complete set of snow-shoes for the ponies had been unloaded from the ship, all but one set were left back at Cape Evans. The lone set of snow-shoes were attached to "Weary Willie" with astounding results so Meares and Wilson headed back to base camp for the others. When they arrived at the Glacier Tongue, they found that all the sea ice had broken away leaving no path to reach the camp at Cape Evans. Meares and Wilson returned to Safety Camp "shoeless" and on February 2 the party set forth with five weeks' provisions, leaving behind two very disappointed men: Atkinson with a sore heel and Crean to look after him. They marched in an easterly direction until they arrived at Corner Camp. At Corner Camp their first blizzard arrived which kept them confined for three days. From Corner Camp they marched due south for ten nights to make their final depot. The ponies were becoming visibly weak, three in particular. At Camp 11 Scott decided to send them back with their escorts and push on with the remaining five. For the next couple of days conditions worsened with heavy snow and soon "Weary Willy", led by Gran, was overtaken by Meares and Wilson with the dogs. The wolf in the dogs broke loose as they pounced on the poor pony.

The men were able to get them off but not before the pony had been badly bitten. Next day the ponies were able to proceed but at Camp 15, on February 17, Scott decided to turn back before reaching, as he had hoped, the 80th parallel. At 79°28½'S, 142 miles from Hut Point, they built a cairn and deposited more than one ton of stores; this was One Ton Depot. By this time Oates' nose had become frostbitten as well as Bowers' ears and, besides, Scott wanted to get back to Cape Evans to learn of any news left by Pennell concerning Campbell's party at King Edward VII Land. On the fourth day of the return trip, twelve miles from Safety Camp, Wilson saw Meares' and Scott's dogs disappear one after the other "exactly like rats running down a hole--only I saw no hole. They simply went into the white surface and disappeared". The sledge hung precariously at the edge of the crevasse while eight dogs were left dangling in the abyss, howling and struggling. Two of the dogs had slipped their harness and fell forty feet to a ledge where they curled up and went to sleep. Wilson and Cherry-Garrard came to the rescue and hauled the eight dogs out with great difficulty. There still remained the issue of the two dogs left on the ledge, some sixty-five feet below. Wilson protested but Scott insisted on being lowered into the chasm to retrieve the dogs. As soon as the dogs were hauled out, they engaged in a fight with Wilson's team. Scott was left dangling in the abyss as the others rushed off to separate the dogs. Finally, Scott was hauled in and the next day they reached Safety Camp where they found Teddy Evans, Ford and Keohane waiting for them. The three reported to Scott that only one of the three ponies had survived the return trip as the others had died from exhaustion. They also had no news on Campbell, so after a meal and a few hours of sleep they went on to Hut Point pulling the sledges themselves. When they reached the hut, they found it to be empty. A note was pinned to the wall which said, "Mail for Captain Scott is in bag inside south door" but there was no bag and no mail. So, back they went to Safety Camp where they found Atkinson and Crean with the mail. "Every incident of the day pales before the startling contents of the mail bag", Scott wrote. In the bag was a letter from Victor Campbell. The TERRA NOVA had sailed along the Barrier as far as King Edward VII Land but found it impossible to go ashore. They turned back and on February 3 sailed into the Bay of Whales only to find a ship, anchored to the ice, which they recognized as the FRAM. Campbell, Levick and Pennell had breakfast in the FRAM and Amundsen, with two companions, had lunch in the TERRA NOVA. Amundsen offered to give Scott some dogs and Pennell offered to take the FRAM'S mail to New Zealand. Amundsen reported that his attempt for the Pole would not take place until the following Antarctic summer.

As it turns out, the Bay of Whales was the proper place for a starting point on an attempt for the Pole. Scott was afraid that too much was at risk to set up base camp at this location: it was afloat and large chunks of it broke off each year going out to sea. However, Amundsen knew that the

bay, charted by Ross in 1841, was still in the same position when Borchgrevink landed there in 1900 and when Shackleton sailed by in 1908 and named it the Bay of Whales. Besides, the Bay was sixty miles closer to the Pole than McMurdo Sound. Raymond Priestly was impressed when Amundsen drove his dogs up next to the TERRA NOVA for lunch. When he arrived next to the ship, he gave a whistle and the whole team stopped as one dog. He turned the sledge upside down and left the dogs in their tracks, to remain there, without fighting, until he had finished his lunch. Dogs, plenty of dogs, well-trained dogs was impressive. As much attention was given the dogs as the men on the FRAM: a false deck had been built above the real one to protect the dogs in stormy seas, an awning had been erected to protect them from the sun, and their diet was a carefully balanced mixture of dried fish, pemmican and lard. When he read the news, Scott wrote, "There is no doubt that Amundsen's plan is a very serious menace to ours". Although Scott took the news in good stride, many of the others were very angry and wanted to march right into the Bay of Whales and have it out, once and for all, with Amundsen. Cherry-Garrard wrote, "We had just paid the first installment of making a path to the Pole; and we felt, however unreasonably, that we had earned the first right of way".

Scott now had to get everyone back to Hut Point. On the last day of February the move began with Meares and Wilson leading off with the dog teams. Wilson went round by Cape Armitage and arrived safely at Hut Point. The others followed with the ponies and had to follow the sea-ice route. They had barely started when "Weary Willie" collapsed and died. While Scott, Oates and Gran stayed by Weary Willie's deathbed, Bowers, Crean and Cherry-Garrard went on ahead with the four surviving ponies and the loaded sledges. They dropped down off the Barrier onto sea-ice and started to probe their way round Cape Armitage. When the ponies could go no farther, they camped and turned in but were aroused two hours later by a strange noise. When they stepped outside, it was discovered that the ice had broke up and their camp was now adrift on a floe. One of the ponies had disappeared and survival seemed unlikely. The only hope was to take the three remaining ponies and four sledges and "hop" from floe to floe as they made their way back to the Barrier. Six hours passed before they made it to the edge of the Barrier. Using sledges as ladders, Scott and the others were able to climb on to the Barrier but the ponies drifted away on their floe as killer whales stood by. Scott replied, "Of course we shall have a run for our money next season, but so far as the Pole is concerned I have little hope". Next morning, Bowers spotted the ponies' floe resting against a spur jutting out from the Barrier. Bowers and Oates were able to make their way out across the floes and reach the ponies. Unfortunately, one pony immediately fell in so Oates had to kill him with his pick-axe. Meanwhile, the other two ponies were brought to the brink of safety. Both were hauled out but one could not get to his feet. The pony would slip and fall back into the water with each attempt and when the killer whales showed up, Bowers shouted, "I can't leave him alive to be eaten by those whales". Bowers grabbed the axe and killed him. When all was said and done, only one pony had survived. They had started their depot-laying journey with eight ponies; they bot back to Hut Point with two.

Now they waited at Hut Point for the sea-ice to freeze over again so they could continue on to Cape Evans. On March 15 they were joined by the geologists, Griffith Taylor, Frank Debenham and Charles Wright along with Petty Officer Edgar Evans who had been exploring the western mountains in Victoria Land. On April 11 Scott and half the party were able to get away for Cape Evans, with the rest to follow. When they reached the base they found the hut in good shape but one of the ponies and another dog had died. That left ten ponies out of the original nineteen. On April 23 the sun vanished beneath the horizon for the last time until August. Scott wrote that the sledging season had come to an end. That is, except for one trip led by Wilson to Cape Crozier in search of birds. The adventure is best told in a book written by Cherry-Garrard, The Worst Journey in the World.

A great deal of scientific work was accomplished during the winter at Cape Evans. Scott's diary is full of scientific data. He was constantly thinking and observing as he went on solitary walks, recording all things seen. He had a passion for science and was sensitive to nature and beauty alike. His spiritual growth was boundless..."There is infinite suggestion in this phenomenon (the aurora)--mysterious--no reality. It is the language of mystic signs and of portents--the inspiration of the gods--wholly spiritual--divine signalling". Needless to say, hours and hours of preparation were put into the plans for the push to the Pole. Always his thoughts came back to transport.

During the winter three more dogs died.

Six men missing from the hut at Cape Evans were Victor Cambell and his five companions who, having failed to get ashore on King Edward VII Land, had been taken by the TERRA NOVA to Cape Adare, where they established their base near Borchgrevink's old camp. The "Eastern Party" had thus become the "Northern Party". It had been arranged that the TERRA NOVA would pick up Campbell's party from Cape Adare on her return from New Zealand in early 1912. Geology, with twenty-five-year-old Raymond Priestley in charge, was to be the main pre-occupation, and surgeon Murray Levick was to study birds and marine life. So, the winter at Cape Evans passed. Scott celebrated his forty-third birthday with his companions. Scott wrote, "They are boys, all of them, but such excellent good-natured ones; there has been no sign of sharpness or anger, no jarring note, in all these wordy contests; all end with a laugh". A DISCOVERY EXPEDITION custom Scott revived was the issue of the South Polar Times.

The sun returned on Victor Campbell's thirty-sixth birthday, August 23. Scott fixed the date of departure for the Pole as November 1, 1911, at the latest. They couldn't start earlier because the ponies would not survive the cold so, to fill in the time, Scott, Bowers, Simpson and Edgar Evans left on September 15 on "a remarkably pleasant and instructive little spring journey" to the western mountains. It was probably on this trip that Scott picked his companions for the push to the Pole. Wilson was a given; Edgar "Taff" Evans, too--the sterling sledger, strong as an ox; Bowers, the only man Scott could rely on to grasp details and remember them--"The greatest source of pleasure to me is to realise that I have such men as Bowers and P.O. Evans for the Southern journey".

At the end of October, 1911, Scott called his men together to give them some bad news. The expedition was under heavy financial strain and had literally ran out of funding. Those men capable of forgoing their salary for the coming year were asked to do so. Some had already decided to return with the TERRA NOVA when she called in the summer: Griffith Taylor was expected back at his university, Ponting and Day's work was finished while Clissold and Forde were in poor health. Most of the others volunteered to stay another winter even if they received no pay. Before the departure of the Southern Party, Scott, like all the others, wrote to his family and friends. He acknowledged in his letter to Kathleen, "I don't know what to think of Amundsen's chances. If he gets to the Pole it must be before we do, as he is bound to travel fast with dogs, and pretty certain to start early. On this account I decided at a very early date to act exactly as I should have done had he not existed. Any attempt to race must have wrecked my plan, besides which it doesn't appear the sort of thing one is out for...You can rely on my not saying or doing anything foolish, only I'm afraid you must be prepared for finding our venture much belittled. After all, it is the work that counts, not the applause that follows". Scott wrote on the last page of the diary that he left behind, "The future is in the lap of the gods. I can think of nothing left undone to deserve success". On November 1, 1911, the time came for the start of his last journey.

The first to leave Cape Evans were Day, Lashly, Teddy Evans and Hooper with the motor sledges while the others with ponies and dogs followed behind. One machine gave out just beyond Safety Camp while the other had to be abandoned a mile beyond Corner Camp. On November 1, ten men, each with a pony and sledge, left Cape Evans in detachments: Scott, Wilson, Bowers, Oates, Atkinson, Cherry-Garrard, Wright, Edgar Evans, Crean and Keohane. Meares and Dimitri followed with the dogs. Everyone else remained at Cape Evans to carry out further exploration and research in Victoria Land. Scott assumed the TERRA NOVA would return in January bringing Victor Campbell and his Northern Party back to Cape Evans whereby Campbell would take command.

The distance from Hut Point to the Pole and back was 1766 statute miles. Every step of the way had to be marched on foot, with or without skis. They traveled by night for the benefit of the ponies. Temperatures never rose above zero Farenheit. Fighting constant snowfalls, the team reached One Ton Camp on the fifteenth day. There was a constant worry that the ponies would give out and upon reaching Camp 20, on November 24, the first pony was killed. Four camps later, on December 1, the second pony was shot.

Depots were made at regular intervals of roughly seventy miles, each containing food and fuel for a week for the returning parties. Scott wrote on December 3, "Our luck in weather is preposterous...the conditions simply horrible". On December 5 they awoke to a blizzard. The temperature normally rose just before and during a blizzard but in this case the temperature rose exceptionally high resulting in melting snow making everything wet. Scott wrote, "One cannot see the next tent, let alone the land. What on earth does such weather mean at this time of the year? It is more than our share of ill-fortune, but the luck may turn yet". The wet, warm blizzard kept them confined to their tents for the next four days. (This event quite likely led to their deaths. If they had not lost these four days they would have reached One Ton Depot ahead of the blizzard that kept them pinned at their last camp.) On the third day of the blizzard Scott wrote, "Resignation to misfortune is the only attitude, but not one easy to adopt...It is very evil to lie here in a wet sleeping-bag and think of the pity of it, whilst things go steadily from bad to worse". On the fifth day the blizzard let up enough for the men to break camp. They had to beat the ponies as they floundered up to their bellies and, Wilson wrote, "constantly collapsed and lay down and sank down, and eventually we could only get them on five or six yards at a time--they were clean done". They struggled for eleven hours after which time the party camped. Five ponies were shot, skinned and made into a depot. Wilson wrote, "Thank God the horses are now all done for and we begin the heavier work ourselves". Two days later found them on the foot of the Beardmore Glacier. After setting up the Lower Glacier depot, Meares and Dimitri started back with the dogs and mail. Day and Hooper had already turned back so a party of twelve, divided into groups, set out to man-haul the sledges up the glacier towards the summit 10,000 feet above. (Amundsen was already there). The glacier is over 100 miles long and in some places 40 miles wide. The struggle began with each man pulling over 200 pounds through the soft snow which they sank into nearly up to their knees. Some suffered from snow-blindness as others stumbled into crevasses, sledges and all. On December 13, the day before Amundsen reached the Pole, in nine hours the party had advanced less than four miles. Scott wrote, "I had pinned my faith on getting better conditions as we rose, but it looks as though matters are getting worse instead of better". Bowers wrote that he had "never pulled so hard, or so nearly crushed my inside into my backbone by the everlasting jerking with all my strength on the canvas band round my unfortunate tummy". The situation gradually improved as they scaled the glacier and on December 20 Scott named the first returning party: Atkinson, Wright, Cherry-Garrard and Keohane. Scott had dreaded this moment as all had pulled to the limit of their strength, but now four good men had to be deprived of their just reward: the Pole. The next day the men established Upper Glacier depot at 7,000 feet. After completion, the first supporting party left for home and reached Hut Point thirty-five days later on January 26, 1912. The two remaining groups went on with two sledges and twelve weeks' supply of oil and fuel, pulling 190 pounds per man. In Scott's group were Oates, Wilson and Taff Evans while Bowers had Teddy Evans, Lashly and Crean. They went on climbing for another sixteen days to reach their highest altitude at 10,570 feet. On Christmas day, with a strong wind in their faces, they advanced seventeen-and-a-half miles. The Christmas meal consisted of pony hoosh, ground biscuit, a chocolate hoosh made from cocoa, sugar, biscuit and raisins thickened with arrowroot, two-and-a-half square inches each of plum-duff, a pannikin of cocoa, four caramels each and four pieces of crystallized ginger. From here they made remarkable marches of fourteen to seventeen miles a day. On January 3 Scott chose four men to continue with him to the Pole and instructed the other three to return. Bowers was brought into his tent and Teddy Evans, Lashly and Crean would become the second returning support party. Teddy Evans was very bitter about Scott's decision but the rest of the crew knew it was a proper choice; aboard ship he was of great help but on land he was a failure. Wilson wrote, "I never thought for a moment he would be in the final party". Bowers wrote, "Poor Teddy--I am sure it was for his wife's sake he wanted to go. He gave me a little silk flag she had given him to fly on the Pole". Lashly and Crean were both in tears as the three men turned back at 87°32'S, at an altitude of 10,280 feet and 169 miles from the Pole.

There was no sign of the Norwegians as Scott and the others followed Shackleton's route. On January 6 they crossed the line of latitude where Shackleton turned back and were farther south, as they believed, than any man had been before. For the next few days the going was difficult. On January 9 they stayed in their bags all day as a blizzard roared outside. On January 10 they resumed their march, made a depot of one weeks' provisions and reckoned they were only ninety-seven miles from the Pole. On this day came the first hint that everyone was growing tired. Scott wrote, "I never had such pulling; all the time the sledge rasps and creaks. We have covered six miles, but at fearful cost to ourselves...Another hard grind in the afternoon and five

miles added. About seventy-four miles from the Pole--can we keep this up for seven days? It takes it out of us like anything. None of us ever had such hard work before...Our chance still holds good if we can put the work in, but it's a terribly trying time". A day later "It is an effort to keep up the double figures, but if we can do another four marches we ought to get through. It is going to be a close thing". Two days later, despite higher temperatures Scott wrote, "It is most unaccountable why we should suddenly feel the cold in this manner".

On January 13 they crossed the 89th parallel. Next day they started to descend and made their final depot of four days' food. Scott wrote, "We ought to do it now". This was the last cheerful entry in Scott's diary. The next day, January 16, they made a good march and figured they would reach the Pole the following day. In the afternoon, Bowers spotted something ahead which looked like a cairn. Half and hour later they realized the black speck to be a flag tied to part of a sledge. Nearby was the remains of a camp along with tracks made by sledges and dogs...many dogs. Scott wrote, "This told us the whole story. The Norwegians have forestalled us and are first at the Pole." Scott felt he had let his loyal companions down and had utterly failed them. Scott wrote, "Many thoughts come and much discussion have we had...All the day dreams must go; it will be a wearisome return".

On January 17, a force five gale struck them along with temperatures falling to fifty-four degrees of frost. Oates, Evans and Bowers all suffered from severe frostbite as they made an early lunch-camp. Scott wrote, "Great God! This is an awful place and terrible enough for us to have laboured to it without the reward of priority. Well, it is something to have got here, and the wind may be our friend tomorrow". Wilson wrote that it was "a tiring day" and despite Amundsen having "beaten us in so far as he has made a race of it...We have done what we came for all the same and as our programme was made out". The next morning they found the Norwegian's camp about two miles away. Inside the tent was a sheet of paper with five names on it: Roald Amundsen, Olav Olavson Bjaaland, Hilmer Hanssen, Sverre H. Hassel and Oscar Wisting. The date of the note was December 14, 1911. They had taken twenty-one days less than Scott's party to reach the Pole. They had arrived at the Pole with their dogs via a glacier they had named the Axel Heiberg. On the day Scott and his companions arrived at the Pole, Amundsen and his men were only one week out from their winter quarters in the Bay of Whales. The five men reached the FRAM in the Bay of Whales on January 25, 1912. In the Norwegian tent Amundsen left a note for Scott and a letter to be delivered to King Haakon. Bowers took photographs, and then they marched seven miles south-south-east to a spot which put them within half a mile of the Pole, altitude 9,500 feet. Here they built a cairn, planted "our poor slighted Union Jacks" and the rest of the flags, photographed themselves and headed for home. Scott wrote, "Well we have turned our back now on the goal of our ambition with sore feelings and must face 800 miles of solid dragging--and goodbye to the daydreams!"

 At the Pole, L to R: Wilson, Evans, Scott, Oates and Bowers The return trip started out fairly well but the temperatures were obviously becoming colder. Scott wrote, "There is no doubt that Evans is a good deal run down". On January 23 they had to camp early because of frostbite to Evans' nose. Oates' feet were always cold and when a blizzard held them up seven miles short of the next food depot, Scott wrote, "I don't like the look of it. Is the weather breaking up? If so God help us, with the tremendous summit journey and scant food". Despite the delays and difficult travel, the marches were good. They were becoming very tired as evidenced by the many injuries due to falls: Wilson strained a leg tendon and had to limp painfully beside the sledge for several days; Scott fell and bruised his shoulder and Evans hand lost two fingernails. On

February 7 they reached the head of the Beardmore Glacier and the next day they started their decent. On February 11, in difficult conditions, they took a wrong turn and ended up in the worse "ice mess" they had ever been in. For the next two days they stumbled around in a maze of ridges, growing more weak and despondent. They knew the next depot could not be far away but they simply couldn't find it. Down to their last meal, the men accidentally came upon the depot which was shrouded in fog. Scott wrote, "The relief was inexpressible. There is no getting away from the fact that we are not pulling strong". At this point it was determined to reduce rations since they weren't making the distances between depots in a timely manner. This only weakened them further as Evans began losing heart and was "nearly broken down in brain, we think". On February 16 Evans collapsed and camp had to be made. Next day he felt better and said he could go on. He would march for a while and then stop to adjust his boots while the others went on. When he failed to catch up, the others would go back only to find him kneeling in the snow with a wild look in his eyes.

His companions sledged him to the next camp and soon after midnight he died. After a few hours rest, they were on their way again. At the foot of the glacier they reached the pony meat and enjoyed their first full meal since leaving the plateau. "New life seems to come with greater food almost immediately". From here the travelling became difficult as the snow became very soft. "Pray God we get better travelling as we are not so fit as we were and the season advances apace". They left the foot of the glacier on February 19. On the 27th, Wilson's diary stopped. Bowers had given up on his on January 25. They arrived at the Southern Barrier depot six days later. Here they discovered a shortage of oil, presumably due to evaporation from the poorly sealed one-gallon tins. Another seventy miles brought them to the Middle Barrier depot where they once again discovered a short supply of oil. By this time Oates could no longer conceal his pain: his toes were black and gangrene was setting in. Temperatures were down to -40°F and the surface was so bad that even a strong wind in the sail would not move the sledge. Scott wrote, "God help us, we can't keep up this pulling, that is certain. Among ourselves we are unendingly cheerful, but what each man feels in his heart I can only guess". On March 7 Scott mentions the dogs for the first time: "We hope against hope that the dogs have been to Mt. Hooper (the next depot), then we might pull through. If there is a shortage of oil again we can have little hope...I should like to keep the track to the end". On the same day, the dogs, driven by Cherry-Garrard and Dimitri, were waiting at One Ton Depot, some seventy-two miles from Mt. Hooper. On March 9 Scott and his men reached Mt. Hooper. "Cold comfort. Shortage on our allowance all round...The dogs which would have been our salvation have evidently failed". An unusual north-west wind kept them in camp the next day as it was simply too cold to face. With half-cooked food, all of them getting frostbitten, all knowing they were doomed, they discussed the situation. Months before, at Cape Evans, they had discussed what to do if one of them became so injured as to not be able to continue on. Wilson carried lethal doses of morphine and opium in his medicine chest so one could eliminate himself if the situation called for it. At this point Scott ordered Wilson to hand over the drugs so Wilson handed each man thirty opium tablets. They were never used as suicide was against the code.

Things got worse as the north wind continued to blow in their faces. Wilson was now becoming weak so Scott and Bowers had to make camp by themselves. The temperature fell to -43°F. On

March 16 or 17 (they lost track of the days) Oates said he couldn't go on and wanted to be left in his bag. The others refused and he struggled on. There was a blizzard blowing in the morning when Oates said "I am just going outside and may be some time" and he stumbled out of the tent. Scott wrote, "We knew that poor Oates was walking to his death, but though we tried to dissuade him, we knew it was the act of a brave man and an English gentleman". Oates was never to be seen again. On March 20 they awoke to a raging blizzard. Scott's right foot became a problem and he knew "these are the steps of my downfall". Amputation was a certainty "but will the trouble spread? That is the serious question". They were only eleven miles from One Ton Depot but the blizzard stopped them from continuing on. They were out of oil and had only two days' rations. "Have decided it shall be natural--we shall march for the depot and die in our tracks", wrote Scott. They did not march again and on March 29 Scott made his last entry: "It seems a pity, but I do not think that I can write more. R. Scott. For God's sake look after our people". On another page he scribbled, "Send this diary to my widow". Remarkably, Scott was able to find the strength, despite being half starved and three quarters frozen, to write twelve complete, legible letters. He wrote to Kathleen and Hannah, to his brother-in-law, to his naval comrades Sir Francis Bridgeman and Sir George Egerton, to the Reginald Smiths and to Sir James Barrie. To Barrie he wrote, "I may not have proved a great explorer but we have done the greatest march ever made and come very near to great success". He wrote to Oates' and Bowers' mothers and to Wilson's wife. Wilson wrote to his parents, "looking forward to the day when we shall all meet together in the hereafter. I have had a very happy life and I look forward to a very happy life hereafter when we shall all be together again. God knows I have no fear of meeting Him--for He will be merciful to all of us. My poor Ory may or may not have long to wait". Letters were written to J. J. Kinsey in New Zealand and Sir Edgar Speyer expressing regrets for leaving the expedition in such a state of affairs, "But we have been to the Pole and we shall die like gentlemen". In Scott's letter to Kathleen, he wrote of hopes for his son, "I had looked forward to helping you to bring him up, but it is a satisfaction to know that he will be safe with you...Make the boy interested in natural history if you can. It is better than games. They encourage it in some schools. I know you will keep him in the open air. Try to make him believe in a God, it is comforting...and guard him against indolence. Make him a strenuous man. I had to force myself into being strenuous, as you know--had always an inclination to be idle". As for Kathleen, "I want you to take the whole thing very sensibly, as I am sure you will...You know I cherish no sentimental rubbish about remarriage. When the right man comes to help you in life you ought to be your happy self again--I wasn't a very good husband but I hope I shall be a good memory...The inevitable must be faced, you urged me to be the leader of this party, and I know you felt it would be dangerous. I have taken my place throughout, haven't I?...What lots and lots I could tell you of this journey. How much better it has been than lounging about in too great comfort at home. What tales you would have had for the boy, but oh, what a price to pay. Dear, you will be good to the old Mother...I haven't had time to write to Sir Clements. Tell him I thought much of him, and never regretted his putting me in charge of the DISCOVERY". Finally, there was a Message to the Public. He explained how the expedition's disaster was not due to poor planning, but by bad weather and bad luck. It was no one's fault..."but for my own sake I do not regret this journey, which has shown that Englishmen can endure hardships, help one another, and meet death with as great a fortitude as ever in the past. We took risks, we knew we took them; things have come out against us, and therefore we have no cause for complaint, but bow to the will of providence, determined still to do our best to the last...Had we lived, I should have had a tale to tell of the hardihood, endurance, and courage of my companions which would have stirred the heart of every Englishman. These rough notes and our dead bodies must tell the tale, but surely, surely, a great rich country like ours will see that those who are dependent on us are properly provided for".

Even at the very end Scott still felt comfortable with his decisions and felt a need to defend that position when he wrote, "Every detail of our food supplies, clothing and depots...worked out to perfection...We have missed getting through by a narrow margin which was justifiably within the risk of such a journey". Death, to Scott, was not a failure since they had reached their goal---the Pole. He hoped he had set an example of courage and loyalty to all those left behind when he wrote to Sir Francis Bridgeman, "After all we are setting a good example to our countrymen, if not by getting into a tight place, by facing it like men when we were there".

The blizzard raged on for another ten days before Scott's last entry on March 29, 1912. It was not until November 12 that Surgeon Atkinson, leader of the search party, found their tent all but

buried in snow. When "Silas" Wright pulled the flap aside, they saw the three men in their sleeping bags. On the left was Wilson, his hands crossed on his chest; on the right, Bowers, wrapped in his bag. It appeared that both had died peacefully in their sleep. But Scott was lying half out of his bag with one arm stretched towards Wilson. Tryggve Gran said, "It was a horrid sight. It was clear he had had a very hard last minutes. His skin was yellow, frostbites all over". Gran envied them. "They died having done something great--how hard must not death be having done nothing". Petty Officer Williamson said, "His face was very pinched and his hands, I should say, had been terribly frostbitten...Never again in my life do I want to behold the sight we have just seen". At the age of forty-three, Scott had been the last to die.

Atkinson took charge of the diaries and letters and read aloud the account of Oates' death and the Message to the Public. He then read the Burial Service and a chapter from Corinthians after which all the men gathered and sang Scott's favorite hymn, "Onward Christian Soldiers". The tent was then collapsed over the bodies and a snow cairn was built over all. Placed on top was a pair of crossed skis. Here they would lie until one day, drifting with the Barrier, they would find their final resting place in the sea. Atkinson led the search party back along the path believed taken by Scott in hopes of finding Oates. They found his sleeping bag but nothing more. Near the spot where they assumed he had fallen, the men erected a cross with the following inscription: "Hereabouts died a very gallant gentleman, Captain L. E. G. Oates of the Inniskilling Dragoons. In March 1912, returning from the Pole, he walked willingly to his death in a blizzard to try to save his comrades, beset by hardship".

The expedition was expected back in New Zealand early in April 1913. In January, Kathleen set out to meet him by way of the United States. After a few days of camping with cowboys in New Mexico, she set out from San Francisco aboard RMS AORANGI. On February 19, between Tahiti and Raratonga, she was called to the captain's cabin. With shaking hands, he showed her a message received by wireless: "Captain Scott and six others perished in a blizzard after reaching the South Pole January 18th". She went into mental shock as she went about her business the rest of the day: playing cards, taking a Spanish lesson and discussing American politics. Her brother Wilfrid met her in Wellington along with Ory Wilson, Atkinson and Teddy Evans who had taken the TERRA NOVA down to McMurdo Sound to embark Scott's party and the rest of the expedition. Atkinson handed Kathleen her husband's diary and last letter. It was now Kathleen's turn to be courageous in the face of tremendous debt still owed from the expedition. Ironically, with the death of the leader came funding that retired the £30,000 debt. Before long, £75,509 had come in which paid all outstanding debt and allowed grants to all dependants. There was still £12,000 remaining and this was handed over to Cambridge University which used the gift towards the foundation of the Scott Polar Research Institute. Officially constituted in 1926, Frank Debenham became the first director. The honor that would have been bestowed upon Scott was awarded to his wife, Kathleen; she became Lady Scott. Kathleen continued to carve statues of many leaders of her day: kings, prime ministers, writers and adventurers, including Nansen, who wanted her to marry him. She rejected the proposal but kept him as a friend. Kathleen went on to marry Edward Hilton Young, a politician who later became Lord Kennet of the Dene. She died of leukemia in 1947.

Other than Kathleen and the family, no one grieved more than Sir Clements Markham. He was now eighty-three and plagued by gout. The electric light bulb was widely used but Markam still preferred to read by candlelight. One night, while reading in bed, the bedclothes caught fire. The butler rushed in and extinguished the flames but the shock was too great and the old man died, unconscious, in January 1916.

Erich von Drygalski1865-1949

Erich von Drygalski was born on February 9, 1865 in Köningsberg, East Prussia. Near the end of the nineteenth century 'Antarctic fever' broke out in western Europe and in 1898 the German South Polar Commission suggested a national expedition to Antarctica. As Professor of Geography and Geophysics at the University of Berlin, Drygalski was certainly qualified and was subsequently chosen to be the leader of the expedition. Financing was not an issue but the Commission felt one ship would be all that was necessary so Drygalski asked for and received permission to build a new vessel rather than modify an existing ship.

The crew amounted to only 32 men. Of the 32, there were 22 regular crew members, 5 naval officers and 5 scientists (including himself).

On August 11, 1901, the GAUSS left Kiel for the south. On January 2, 1902, they reached Îles Kerguelen. On January 31 the GAUSS left Kerguelen for the Antarctic and seven days later they sighted the first of many icebergs. Navigation was particularly difficult from this point on and it wasn't until February 21 that the first land was sighted. Drygalski wrote the "coherent, uniform white contours, and in one place in the northeast darker spots which, when coming closer, also turned out to be ice. But there was no question about it: all the ice was on solid land...everywhere it ended abruptly at the water's edge, forming cliffs 40 to 50 meters high...the area behind them rose gently to about 300 meters..." Here, about 90° longitude, Kaiser Wilhelm II Land was named. It was late afternoon on February 21 that the ship attempted to enter an opening between two ice ridges only to become trapped.

"Later, nobody recalled exactly what happened during the next hours but we all felt that we had become a toy of the elements. A snowstorm blew up, floes and 'bergs closed in..." For the next few days the men tried everything to work the ship free of the ice but to no avail. By March 2 "our fate had been sealed: the trap we had entered had closed".

Drygalski and his men were to encounter many of the hardships of the Antarctic winter, just as Carsten Borchgrevink and the crew of the BELGICA before them. Fortunately, the ship was adequately supplied and the cabins / mess rooms were very comfortable. One of the crewmembers, F. Bidlingmaier, best described off-duty hours on the BELGICA as follows: "Sundays were beer-nights, Wednesdays were lecture-nights, but Saturday nights were best of all: on them we sat together behind a glass of grog, united in games or conversation. Clubs sprouted like mushrooms. There were several card-clubs, a gentleman's cigar-smoking-club, glee-clubs, a band composed of a harmonica, flute, triangle and two pot-lids for a cymbal".

Although somewhat pleasant indoors, outdoors was another matter. Snowstorms raged and other than her masts, the ship nearly disappeared in the snow. Temperatures dropped to -18°F resulting in cracked instruments and dozens of broken bottles of German beer! On the other

hand, there were occasional good days and it was during these times that scientific data was collected. The men built a windmill to generate electricity while others went on hunting expeditions for seal and penguin: "Their hearts and livers made a most delicious ragout...we loved it better than our tinned food".

"By March the situation had stabilized so much that I thought it was time to start the sledging expeditions". The first expedition left on March 18th, lasting eight days, and resulted in the first physical proof of reaching the Antarctic mainland when crewmembers returned with pieces of volcanic rock. The discovery, about 50 miles from the ship, was named Gaussberg. (See top photo).

Drygalski became the first balloonist in Antarctica when he climbed aboard the balloon the GAUSS was carrying and rose to an altitude of 1600 feet. "It was so warm up there I could even take off my gloves...the sight from this altitude was grandiose. I could see newly discovered Gaussberg and...gave my description via telephone to the deck of the ship. It was the only ice-free landmark in the surrounding area".

In early April, a second sledging expedition returned from a 13-day trip to Gaussberg where the four men had built a temporary shelter for any further trips to this area. It was at this time that Drygalski decided to take part in a third expedition which was very nearly his last. Temperatures had dropped to -38°F by the time the men had reached Gaussberg on April 27, six days after leaving the ship. Unfortunately, upon their arrival they discovered the shelter in ruins from the previous storms. Many hours were spent rebuilding the shelter. The next few days were devoted to geological and magnetic surveys. On their way back to the ship another storm hit. Food quickly ran out and just as they prepared themselves to kill some of the dogs, they stumbled upon a dead seal that had been killed by the previous teams. They now had plenty of food but the weather was so poor they totally lost their bearings. However, good fortune followed them as they literally stumbled into the snow-covered GAUSS again.

Gaussberg, located at 66°40'S, was the southern limit of the expedition. Drygalski thought it possible to attain 72° or 73°S but abandoned the idea when spring arrived. As spring arrived, attention was now given to the purpose of freeing the ship from the ice. The ice had started to break up but they were still 2000 feet from the nearest stretch of open water. Holes were dug through the ice by hand and filled with explosives in an attempt to blast their way free. Steel saws, some 20 feet long, were used to cut through the ice beside the ship's hull but progress was very, very slow. The crew was beginning to wonder if a second ship would be sent from Germany to search for them. Hans Ruser, captain of the GAUSS, went so far as to suggest throwing empty beer bottles into the water with messages contained inside with a description of their position. Furthermore, he suggested 100 more bottles be dropped by the balloon when a next northerly wind came up. One day Drygalski was walking around the ship when he noticed an area where soot from the ship's funnel had landed and melted the ice beneath. He determined that the black color of the soot absorbed the light from the sun which then melted the ice beneath. Immediately he ordered garbage aboard the GAUSS be laid in a trail to the open water. "Success came immediately. The ice under the dirt started to melt. Within a month we had a long water channel almost two metres deep. Although there were still four to five metres of ice underneath, the channel widened constantly" which grew into a small pond. By the end of December, 1902, rain fell.

Christmas and New Year's Day passed and it was not until February 8, 1903 that "we suddenly felt two sharp jolts in rapid succession...it was like a revelation, and with a cry 'the ice is breaking', I jumped out on to the deck". With the ship free from the ice, the expedition started a slow voyage along the Antarctic coast. Traveling among the floes was dangerous and slow so on March 31 Drygalski ordered retreat. "It was a most difficult decision, certainly the most difficult one I had to make, but it was necessary. There was no safe place to spend the winter here..." They reached the tip of South Africa on June 9 where Drygalski sent a request to Berlin suggesting another wintering in the Antarctic. On July 2 his request was denied, probably due to the fact that the Kaiser was disappointed that no new territory of significance had been discovered. The GAUSS arrived in Kiel on November 23, 1903.

Regardless, Drygalski wrote "...we found new territory in the Antarctic itself...something we can look back to in full satisfaction". Drygalski spent many years documenting his expedition as he published 20 volumes between 1905 and 1931. In 1906 he became Professor of Geography at Munich and in 1910 took part in Count Zeppelin's expedition to Spitsbergen. He retired from the university in 1934.

Carsten Borchgrevink1864-1934

Carsten Egeberg Borchgrevink was born in Norway in 1864. In 1888 Borchgrevink migrated to Australia where, after four years of bouncing around, he became a teacher. It appears safe to claim that Borchgrevink had an inner passion for adventure and exploration. In 1893 he signed on as a "generally useful hand" with the Norwegian sealing and whaling expedition led by Henrik Johan Bull. Commander Leonard Kristensen and the crew of the ANTARCTIC investigated whaling possibilities throughout the sub-Antarctic islands and eventually landed at Cape Adare on January 24, 1895. Over the course of these two years they visited Tristan da Cunha, the Prince Edward Islands, Îles Crozet, Îles Kerguelen, the Balleny Islands, Campbell Island and Possession Island. The landing at Cape Adare was the first confirmed landing on the Antarctic continental mainland. Commercially, the expedition was a failure.

Despite the poor commercial results, many geological and botanical findings tweaked the interest of the Australian Antarctic Committee, especially that of Professor T. W. Edgeworth David. Both Bull and Borchgrevink went on the lecture circuit in Melbourne and Sydney but could not raise enough interest to finance a second expedition.

Falling on deaf ears, Borchgrevink left for England. He presented his study to the Geographical Congress in London which resulted in Dr. H. R. Mill declaring "His blunt manner and abrupt speech stirred the academic discussions with a fresh breeze of realism. No one liked Borchgrevink very much at that time, but he had a dynamic quality and a set purpose to get out again to the unknown South that struck some of us as boding well for exploration". The British went on a campaign to raise the necessary funds and support for a significant expedition to the Antarctic. Meanwhile, Borchgrevink offered to lead a small expedition of his own with the primary goal of finding the South Magnetic Pole. In 1897 Borchgrevink returned to Australia to raise funds for his private expedition. Unfortunately, his success was limited as Australian interest was now with the Royal Geographical Society, under the leadership of Sir Clements Markham, and their large-scale plans. Never giving up, Borchgrevink turned to his employer, wealthy British publisher Sir George Newnes, and persuaded him to provide £40,000 for the small expedition. The Royal Geographical Society was furious as the money donated by Newnes would have been enough to "get the National Expedition on its legs".

First Confirmed Landing

Borchgrevink immediately went to work on his expedition by purchasing the POLLUX, a 521-ton ship, which he renamed the SOUTHERN CROSS . The ship left London on August 23, 1898 and arrived at Hobart, Tasmania on November 28. They departed Hobart on December 19 and sailed for 43 days before sighting the Balleny Islands on January 12, 1899. They crossed the Antarctic Circle on January 23 and on January 28 they sighted one of the Russell Islands, first seen by James Clark Ross in 1841. The SOUTHERN CROSS became caught in the ice and it was not until February 14 that they broke free. Three days later they sighted their landing place at Cape Adare.

Bernacchi wrote of the scene before them: "Approaching this sinister coast for the first time, on such a boisterous, cold and gloomy day, our decks covered with drift snow and frozen sea water, the rigging encased in ice, the heavens as black as death, was like approaching some unknown land of punishment, and struck into our hearts a feeling preciously akin to fear . . . It was a scene, terrible in its austerity, that can only be witnessed at that extremity of the globe; truly, a land of unsurpassed desolation".

Landing operations began the next morning and were completed some ten days later. "Camp Ridley", named after Borchgrevink's mother, was firmly established with prefabricated huts. The wintering party consisted of ten men and 75 sledge dogs.

The average age of the wintering party was 27 years old. A number of measurements were taken at the start and conclusive evidence showed that the three Englishmen were, on average, taller, stronger and heavier than the Norwegians while the two Finns, although small in stature, were slim and capable of withstanding any amount of cold.

Until winter arrived on May 15, various members of the party surveyed the coast of Robertson Bay and collected specimens of birds, fish, seals and penguins. Then the blizzards hit. On July 24 the huts were nearly destroyed by fire as a candle left burning in a bunk set the structure on fire. A great deal of damage occurred before the flames were extinguished. On the night of August 31, Hanson, Ellifsen and Bernacchi were nearly asphyxiated by coal fumes as they slept. Coal had been left burning in the stove and luckily Bernacchi woke up in time to throw open the door before they all died.

One of the Finns fell to the bottom of a crevasse. Fortunately he had a knife with him and, by cutting toeholds in the ice, he was able to climb out to safety. Hanson, the expedition's zoologist, died on October 14.

The cause of his death is still a mystery. He was buried at the top of Cape Adare and Bernacchi wrote "There amidst profound silence and peace, there is nothing to disturb that eternal sleep except the flight of seabirds. In the long dark winter night, the brilliant and mysterious Aurora Polaris sweeps across the sky and forms a glorious arc of light over the Cape and the grave. In the summer the dazzling sunlight shines perpetually upon it".

On January 28, 1900 the SOUTHERN CROSS returned for the party and early in the morning, while all were asleep, Captain Jensen knocked on the door, calling "Post!" The first to winter over on the Antarctic mainland, Borchgrevink and the crew sailed around the coast into the Ross Sea and towards the Ross Ice Shelf. They landed on Possession Island and found the tin box that was left there in 1895. They later landed at the foot of Mount Terror where Borchgrevink and the captain narrowly escaped drowning when a tidal wave, created by a huge calving of ice, nearly swept them to their death.

During their exploring of the area, a number of botanical specimens were collected and magnetic observations taken. The ice shelf had receded 30 miles since Ross first visited. On February 16, Borchgrevink, Colbeck and one of the Finns set out across the ice shelf and reached an estimated 78°50´S which was the farthest south reached to that time.

It was getting late in the season to be lingering in the area so they sailed onwards to Franklin Island where they made magnetic observations and determined the South Magnetic Pole to be much farther north and west than previously assumed. From here they sailed north out of the Ross Sea and crossed the Antarctic Circle on February 28, 1900.

Clearly Borchgrevink's expedition contributed significantly to the knowledge of Antarctica. But, the reception received in England was poor, at best. At this time, all eyes were turned upon Robert Falcon Scott's upcoming voyage in 1901. Besides, the authorities were still unhappy with his funding by a fellow countryman. Nevertheless, Borchgrevink continued to lecture in England and Scotland and was finally made a Fellow of the Royal Geographical Society. In 1902 he visited the United States where the American Geographical Society held a dinner in his honor. Norway also bestowed honors on their hero. He was created a Knight of St. Olaf and later a Knight Daneborg. It was not until 1930 that the English finally awarded Borchgrevink for his efforts when he was given the Patron's Medal of the Royal Geographical Society. The President of the Society proclaimed that "When the SOUTHERN CROSS returned, this Society was engaged in fitting out Captain Scott to the same region, from which expedition much was expected, and the magnitude of the difficulties overcome by Borchgrevink were underestimated. It was only after the work of Scott's Northern Party on the second expedition of 1912 . . . that we were able to realise the improbability that any explorer could do more in the Cape Adare district than Mr. Borchgrevink had accomplished. It appeared, then, that justice had not been done at the time to the pioneer work of the SOUTHERN CROSS expedition, which was carried out under the British flag and at the expense of a British benefactor".

Carsten Egeberg Borchgrevink made one more voyage, to the West Indies in 1902 to examine volcanic eruptions, but for the remainder of his life he lived in Slimdal, Norway where he was active in literary and sporting activities. He died in 1934.

Adrien de Gerlache1866-1934

The completion of the great British naval expedition of 1839-43, under the command of James Clark Ross on HMS EREBUS and Francis Rawdon Moira Crozier on HMS TERROR, brought to an end the era of early Antarctic exploration. On the other hand, a significant number of sealing and whaling voyages were undertaken by a variety of nations in the years leading up to the end of the century. The majority of these subsequent sailings originated from New England in the United States and from France.

Gold was discovered in California in 1848 and by 1849 the great gold rush had begun. This resulted in a significant increase of travel through the Straits of Magellan and around Cape Horn. A ship repair business was developed in the Falkland Islands at this time.

In 1849 the Southern Whale Fishery Company, incorporated by British Royal Charter, attempted to settle a new British colony at Port Ross in the Auckland Islands. The SAMUEL ENDERBY arrived carrying Charles Enderby and a number of settlers on December 4 and found, to their surprise, about 40 Maoris and 30 Morioris who had settled there in 1843. Serious problems developed as shore whaling was unsuccessful, passing vessels did not call to refit as expected and attempts to grow vegetables and crops were a total failure (although the Maoris were more successful). The colony was abandoned in 1852.

 

Elephant sealing at Heard Island After the voyage of Erasmus Darwin Rogers aboard the CORINTHIAN (1853-56), the United States sealing industry began operations on Heard Island in 1855. The island was frequently visited between 1855 and 1882 with American sealers wintering for most of the years after 1856.

In July 1895, the Sixth International Geographical Congress met in London and adopted a resolution: "That this congress record its opinion that the exploration of the Antarctic Regions is the greatest piece of geographical exploration still to be undertaken. That in view of the additions to knowledge in almost every branch of science which would result from such a scientific exploration the Congress recommends that the scientific societies throughout the world should urge in whatever way seems to them most effective, that this work should be undertaken before the close of the century".

Just such an undertaking was already under preparation by a lieutenant in the Royal Belgian Navy. He was 29 years old and his name was Adrien Victor Joseph de Gerlache. De Gerlache was an idealistic young officer with a passion to explore the southern latitudes. Unfortunately, his timing was poor. National resources were directed towards Africa and Belgium's newly acquired colony, the Congo. Fund raising was his only option and fortunately he was able to raise interest with the Brussels Geographical Society who organized a national subscription. The Belgian Parliament finally donated 60,000 francs and when the subscription lists closed, de Gerlache was left with nearly 300,000 francs at his disposal.

A 250-ton barque was purchased for 70,000 francs in Norway. The three-masted whaler PATRIA had been built for the icy waters of the north. Extensive refitting was done and subsequently re-christened as the BELGICA.

On July 29, 1896, de Gerlache received a letter from a 25-year-old Norwegian wishing to sail, unpaid, aboard the BELGICA. His request was accepted and thus Roald Amundsen was added to the ship's crew.

The scientific crew represented many nations: the zoologist, Emile Racovitza, was Romanian; the geologist, Henryk Arctowski, was Polish; navigating officer and astronomer, George Lecointe, was Belgian; Amundsen and a number of others were Norwegian; the laboratory assistant was Russian; the ship's surgeon, Dr. Frederick A. Cook, was a 32-year-old native of Sullivan County, New York.

The BELGICA left Antwerp on August 16, 1897. She was so overloaded that she could make no more than 6 miles per hour under steam and her decks were barely 2 feet clear of water.

The BELGICA reached Punta Arenas on December 1, 1897. For no recorded reason a number of crew members deserted leaving only 19 men. Scientific studies were conducted in Tierra del Fuego with the BELGICA departing south on December 14. This may have proved costly as the late departure date resulted in a late arrival date, January 20, in Antarctic waters.

Without warning, on January 22 a strong storm hit the BELGICA. Her containers of coal broke free and spilled out over the deck as huge waves flooded over the sides. As the sailors scrambled, Dr. Cook later wrote "While thus engaged we heard an unearthly cry--a cry which made me shiver because of its force and painful tone. We turned about quickly, but saw nothing to indicate the direction of the noise. Amundsen, thinking there'd been an accident in the engine room, rushed in that direction. I went to the quarter-deck, looked astern and saw a man struggling among the white crests. It was (Carl) Wiencke (a sailor). In trying to free the scuppers he had lost his balance, and in falling he uttered the awful cry. With a quick presence of mind he grasped the log-line. I began to draw it in, but he slipped until his hand was stopped by the log. He held on to this with a death-like grasp...but there was little to be done. With a bravery impossible to appreciate, Lieutenant Lecointe offered to be lowered into the sea to pass a rope around Wiencke. With two men on deck, Lecointe was lowered, but he sank at once with the counter-eddies and nearly lost his life. We managed to tow Wiencke to the side of the ship...but he gave up his grip on the log-line, and sank. Wiencke was a boy with many friends, and his loss

was deeply felt". It was the first loss of life on the BELGICA but not the last.

On the following day, Sunday, January 23, the storm subsided. They had arrived off the coast of Graham Land which had not been visited for the past 60 years. The BELGICA worked slowly between the Graham Land coast and a long string of islands to the west. De Gerlache named the passage Belgica Strait. Renamed in his honor, the great discovery is now known as Gerlache Strait.

Between January 23 and February 12, 1898, the Belgian Antarctic Expedition made no less than twenty separate landings on the islands along the strait. They charted and named the islands of Brabant, Liège, Anvers and, in memory of the sailor lost at sea, Wiencke Island. Heading southwest, the BELGICA crossed the Antarctic Circle on February 15, 1898. On the last day of February the explorers entered the ice pack at 70°20´S and 85°W. They reached another degree south and the vessel became wedged in the pack ice. For the next few days talk among the crew suggested de Gerlache intentionally trapped them in the ice. Efforts were made to free the BELGICA but the overloaded vessel remained imprisoned and by March 2 their fate was determined and the crew realized they were at the mercy of the south.

On March 2, the day they realized they were locked in for the winter, the vessel had reached 71°30´S, 85°16´W. Snow was piled high on the decks in an attempt to preserve heat and a small wooden shack was built on the ice. On May 17, total darkness of the winter night set in. Had they been close to land, surely the men would have deserted as they were constantly cold and damp. The men were crowded together, many unable to speak with each other due to language problems. Food was in short supply with much of it soft and tasteless. The crew quickly became tired of the same daily diet of canned meatballs, canned fish, and canned vegetables. By the month of May the crew was suffering from muscular spasms, lethargy and an intense desire to get away from one another. On June 5, 1898, Lieutenant Danco died from the cold and a weak heart. Henryk Arctowski wrote "In the obscurity of the midday twilight we carried Lieutenant Danco's body to a hole which had been cut in the ice, and committed it to the deep. A bitter wind was blowing as, with bared heads, each of us silent, we left him there...And the floe drifted on..."

It was at this time that Dr. Cook assumed moral command of the BELGICA. De Gerlache and Amundsen were busy with the details of preparing the ship to break free of the ice while Cook realized that the mood of the shipmates would become his responsibility. Cook new the men needed sunlight and fresh meat. De Gerlache had already tasted penguin and seal meat and declared them both to be inedible. As for penguin meat, Dr. Cook said "If it's possible to imagine a piece of beef, odiferous cod fish and a canvas-backed duck roasted together in a pot, with blood and cod-liver oil for sauce, the illustration would be complete". In order to convince the crew it was necessary for medicinal purposes, de Gerlache unwillingly agreed to "ignore the taste; swallow it down as a duty". Next, in order to take the men's minds off their unpleasantness, Cook organized card schools where bets of 1000 francs were accepted, of which none were ever honored. But, the Antarctic night still took its toll. One crewmember spoke no French so when he heard the word for something, he really thought it meant kill and thus

attacked anyone who spoke the word. Another man climbed overboard onto the ice and announced his departure for Belgium.

On July 23, 1898, the first glow of light returned along with the spirits of the men. The research work resumed. Soundings were taken through the ice and astronomical observations were taken while sledge parties explored the drift. Even though the winter was over, they were still firmly embraced by the ice which measured over seven feet thick.

The days continued on with no relief in sight. The expedition began to run short of coal and oil for the lamps and the crew began to fear the possibility of a second winter in the ice. In their minds, death was a certainty.

The BELGICA drifted to the west throughout August and September. In October they cheered to see lakes forming in the ice but the ice closed in and froze them in again. In November snow settled in around the ship as a number of the crew had to be treated by Dr. Cook for the onset of insanity. Panic was in the air as Christmas was celebrated aboard the ship. Despite the gloom, a constant watch was kept by de Gerlache, Lecointe, Amundsen and Cook. On New Year's Eve, 1898, a stretch of open water appeared. In the second week of 1899, a party sledged to the edge of the lake where they measured the depth of the ice. For the next few weeks, working day and night, the explorers chopped and sawed their way through the ice towards the ship. By the end of January they had cut a channel to within 100 feet of the ship. Then the wind changed, the ice shifted and the channel closed in behind them. Needless to say, the men became despondent. The remaining food was now being rationed and February would be the last month of the Antarctic summer, after which the days would become shorter and the weather unbearable. They even talked of abandoning ship but decided against it as they had no place to go.

On February 15, at 2 o'clock in the morning, de Gerlache was woke up by a sailor who had been on watch. The channel they had created was once again open! The engine was started and, for the first time since March 2, 1898, the BELGICA was moving under her own power. It was a desperate struggle, but by March 14 they cleared the pack after inching their way through seven miles of ice. Almost 13 months had elapsed since their initial entrapment. They had drifted across 17 degrees of longitude.

Roald Amundsen and two of his fellow countrymen left the BELGICA and sailed home on a Norwegian mailboat. Sailor Tollefsen had lost his sanity during the Antarctic night but eventually recovered. Sailor Knutsen wasn't so lucky as he died shortly after. Medals were presented by King Leopold of Belgium.

In 1901 de Gerlache led a zoological expedition to the Persian Gulf. In 1903 he joined Jean Charcot's expedition to the Antarctic but resigned in Buenos Aires. He made a number of important expeditions to the Arctic, among them Greenland in 1905 and 1909 and the Barents and Kara Seas in 1907. He assisted Ernest Shackleton with the organization of Shackleton's difficult expedition of 1914-17. De Gerlache sold him his yacht which Shackleton renamed the ENDURANCE.

James Clark Ross1800-1862

James Clark Ross, born in 1800, entered the Navy at 11 years of age. During his first years of service he was tutored and watched over by his uncle, Sir John Ross. In 1818 he joined his uncle on a controversial voyage in search of the Northwest Passage. Between 1819 and 1827 he joined Edward Parry in four more expeditions to the Arctic. Between 1829 and 1833 Ross spent another four and one half years exploring the Arctic, achieving the rank of commander. On May 31, 1831, Ross located the position of the north magnetic pole on Boothia Peninsula in northern Canada.

On April 8, 1839, Ross took command of the 370-ton EREBUS with his friend Francis Crozier assuming command of the 340-ton TERROR. Antarctica was the new challenge and a voyage was planned. Both ships were strengthened from bow to stern for the tough voyage ahead. The three-masted ships were ruggedly constructed warships used for carrying mortars. The TERROR had already seen service in Arctic waters during 1836.

Due to Ross' extensive experience in the Arctic voyages, substantial supplies of preserved meat was loaded aboard to head off the risk of scurvy. In addition, extraordinary amounts of soups, vegetables, cranberries, pickles and other foodstuffs were included. Ross knew that a happy crew was a well-fed, comfortable crew so extensive work was also done to the ships' interiors. Senior representatives of the Admiralty inspected the ships on September 2, 1839 and approval was granted. The crew was paid three month's salary in advance and on October 5, 1839, EREBUS and TERROR left England on their southern voyage.

Ross was instructed to sail to Tasmania where they were supposed to set up a permanent station for making magnetic observations. Along the way they were to set up similar observatories at St. Helena Island and the Cape of Good Hope. For two months EREBUS and TERROR stayed at Îles Kerguelen where a team of officers made hourly magnetometric observations while Ross made astronomical and tidal observations.

EREBUS and TERROR encountered a hurricane only two days after leaving the islands and became separated from each other. It was at this point that the expedition experienced its first fatality when the EREBUS'S boatswain fell overboard and drowned. The voyage to Tasmania became filled with excitement as icebergs made the trip quite hazardous. Ross and the EREBUS landed in Hobart on August 16, 1840; the TERROR had landed the day before. While there, the magnetic observatory was built with the help of 200 convicts brought in by the Lieutenant Governor of Tasmania, Sir John Franklin. While in Hobart, Ross read newspaper accounts of the French and American searches for the magnetic south pole. Both Dumont d'Urville and Charles Wilkes were doing research in an area that Ross felt was his expertise and his alone. Wilkes was kind enough to leave Ross charts of his course and discoveries, although Ross never truly acknowledged the gesture. Ross made the decision to take a more easterly course for his search of the south magnetic pole rather than follow in Wilkes' footsteps. At daybreak, on November 12, 1840, EREBUS and TERROR pulled up their anchors, sailed down the Derwent River, and said good-bye to Sir John Franklin as they left Hobart for the Antarctic.

One week later, they came upon the Auckland Islands. Approaching the islands, they noticed two boards erected on tall poles. On one board was a hand-painted sign recognizing American Charles Wilkes visiting the island on March 10 of the same year while the other painted sign was a notice from Dumont d'Urville recognizing his visit on the following day, March 11! Some magnetic observations and survey work was accomplished and the ships then sailed on to Campbell Island. On December 17 the two ships left Campbell Island and on December 27 they encountered the first icebergs and whales. On December 30 they crossed Fabian Gottlieb von

Bellingshausen's path and on New Year's Day, 1841, they crossed the Antarctic Circle.

They soon came upon the Antarctic pack of ice that had yet to be penetrated by man. Encountering bad weather, the ice stretched before them "motionless and menacing". Poor weather continued but on January 5 Ross decided to "make the attempt on the ice and push the ships as far into it as we could get them". They forced their way slowly through the pack until after "about an hour's hard thumping" they came to lighter, scattered ice. They continued on "at times sustaining violent shocks, which nothing but ships so strengthened could have withstood". At 5 am on January 9 they broke into an open sea. Ross had discovered the Ross Sea and he now set his sights on the south magnetic pole. On January 11 land was reported straight ahead. Ross first thought it to be an ice-blink (a whiteness in the sky caused by the reflection of ice ahead) but as they approached they realized the ice-blink was actually a mountainous, snow-covered land. Ross was actually disappointed to find land between him and his search for the south magnetic pole but, nevertheless, quickly determined the sighting to be a "way of restoring to England the honor of the discovery of the southernmost land, which had been nobly won by the intrepid Bellingshausen, and for more than twenty years retained by Russia". They next saw a range of mountains, rising to 8000 feet, which he named the Admiralty Range. He named as many of the peaks as he could see. His compass needle was behaving oddly; Ross determined he was within 500 miles of the magnetic pole. Taking a westerly course, they sailed through the Ross Sea and on January 12 Ross and Crozier planted a flag on newly discovered Possession Island, one of two islands located just off the mainland. A toast was offered to "Her Majesty and His Royal Highness Prince Albert" with the region claimed as Victoria Land.

On January 22 Ross calculated that they had reached a higher latitude than James Weddell had in 1823. On January 27 Franklin Island was formally possessed and on January 28 there was another surprise.

Beaufort Island and Mt. Erebus

Robert McCormick, EREBUS'S surgeon, described the discovery as "a stupendous volcanic mountain in a high state of activity". Dr. Hooker ran to grab his notebook and quickly wrote down his reaction: "All the coast one mass of dazzling beautiful peaks of snow which, when the sun approached the horizon, reflected the most brilliant tints of golden yellow and scarlet; and then to see the dark cloud of smoke, tinged with flame, rising from the volcano in a perfectly unbroken column, one side jet-black, the other giving back the colors of the sun....This was a sight so surpassing everything that can be imagined...that it really caused a feeling of awe to steal over us at the consideration of our own comparative insignificance and helplessness, and at the same time, an indescribable feeling of the greatness of the Creator in the works of His hand". The peak was 12,400 feet above sea level and was belching flame and smoke. Ross named it Mount Erebus and the smaller extinct volcano to the east, Mount Terror.

As the ships sailed south, Ross saw a low white line "extending from its eastern extreme point as far as the eye could discern to the eastward. It presented an extraordinary appearance, gradually increasing in height, as we got nearer to it, and proving at length to be a perpendicular cliff of ice, between one hundred and fifty feet and two hundred feet above the level of the sea, perfectly flat and level at the top, and without any fissures or promontories on its even seaward face". Ross realized there was no possible penetration further as Ross stated that "we might with equal chance of success try to sail through the cliffs of Dover, as to penetrate such a mass".

Naming it the Victoria Barrier, it was later changed to the Ross Ice Shelf. By the middle of February, after sailing eastwards along the shelf for 200 miles, Ross decided to abandon his search for an entrance until the next season. The expedition arrived at Derwent River on April 6, 1841. Ross was delighted and took pleasure in the fact that their efforts had been "unattended by casualty, calamity, or sickness of any kind, and that every individual on both ships had been permitted to return in perfect health and safety to this southern home".

EREBUS and TERROR at Victoria Land

On November 23, the expedition once again left Hobart, Tasmania for Antarctica. In three weeks they were among the ice bergs and on December 17 they entered the ice pack. By January 19, 1842, EREBUS and TERROR were in "an ocean of rolling fragments of ice, hard as floating rocks of granite, which were dashed against them by the waves with such violence that their masts quivered". TERROR'S rudder was smashed by the ice and the EREBUS'S didn't fare much better. Ross wrote: "There seemed to be but little probability of our ships holding together much longer, so frequent and violent were the shocks they sustained". Miraculously they did survive and, after repairs, continued south on February 4. By the end of February the Ross Ice Shelf was in sight again. It was so cold that while the crewmen were chipping ice from the bows of TERROR, a small fish was found frozen in place where it had been thrown against the ship's side. TERROR'S surgeon and naturalist, Dr. Robertson, tried to retrieve it for analysis but the ship's cat was a little quicker.

The weather remained a constant problem. Ross spent much of the summer frustrated by his hopeless efforts to find a route through the pack. He sailed eastward and a little further south than the previous season but, up against the wall, he decided to give it up as winter was rapidly approaching. They recrossed the Antarctic Circle and set a course for Cape Horn. The expedition progressed uneventfully for several hundred miles. In the darkness on March 12 a massive iceberg loomed directly ahead and "the ship was immediately hauled to the wind on the port tack with the expectation of being able to weather it. But just at this moment the TERROR was observed running down upon us, under her top-sails and foresail; and as it was impossible for her to clear both the berg and the EREBUS, collision was inevitable. We instantly hove all aback to diminish the violence of the shock, but the concussion when she struck us was such as to throw almost everyone off his feet. Our bowsprit, foretopmast, and other smaller spars, were carried away, and the ships hanging together, entangled by their rigging, and dashing against each other with fearful violence, were falling down upon the weather face of the lofty berg under our lee, against which the waves were breaking and foaming to near the summit of its perpendicular cliffs. Sometimes she rose high above us, almost exposing her keel to view, and

again descended as we in our turn rose to the top of the wave, threatening to bury her beneath us, whilst the crashing of the breaking upperworks and boats increased the horror of the scene". The ships were able to separate but the EREBUS was completely disabled and drifting on to the berg "so close that the waves, when they struck against it, threw back their sprays into the ship". It was a very serious moment but, as the EREBUS'S surgeon wrote, "Captain Ross was quite equal to the emergency, and, folding his arms across his breast, as he stood like a statue on the afterpart of the quarter-deck, calmly gave the order to loose the sail". Ross then ordered the use of a stern-board, a hazardous three-point turn that "perhaps had never before been resorted to by seamen in such weather". It took forty-five minutes to execute but "In a few minutes, after getting before the wind, she dashed through the narrow channel between two perpendicular walls of ice, and the foaming breakers which stretched across it, and the next moment we were in smooth water under its lee". There was a huge amount of damage to the EREBUS but repairs were quickly made and by March 15 they resumed their voyage. The expedition finally arrived at the Falkland Islands, after a brief stay at Cape Horn, where they remained for nearly five months.

Ross departed the Falklands on December 17, 1842, for his third and final season in the Antarctic. His desire was to penetrate the Weddell Sea and add to the research done by Weddell in 1822. Unfortunately, he met with "dense, impenetrable, pack ice". Abandoning his plan, Ross crossed the Antarctic Circle on March 5, 1843, and the TERROR sailed for home. Ross wrote: "The shores of Old England came into view at 5h 20m A.M. on the 2nd of September, and we anchored off Folkestone at midnight of the 4th". The voyage was completed after four years and five months at sea.

From Ross's departure in 1843 until the last decade of the 19th century, Antarctica was almost solely the domain of the sealer. There were a few exceptions. In 1844-45 the Admiralty sent out Lieutenant T.E.L. Moore in the barque PAGODA to carry out magnetic work in the south Atlantic and southern Indian Oceans. The Challenger Expedition of the British Admiralty in 1872-75 cruised through the south Indian Ocean in January and February 1874, mapping Prince Edward Island, Îles Crozet, Îles Kerguelen, and Heard Island. Reasons for the lack of further exploration were varied. America was involved with the Civil War and there was an extreme interest in the Arctic by both the Americans and Europeans. It was a resolution, passed by the Sixth International Geographical Congress in London in 1895, that ushered in the "Heroic Era". Before World War I halted the scientific research, some 16 exploring expeditions were launched from Australia, Belgium, England, France, Germany, Japan, Norway, Scotland, and Sweden.

Charles Wilkes1798-1877

The United States Exploring Expedition of 1838-42 is a milestone in American science. Often referred to as the Wilkes Expedition, this expedition brought back to the United States a wealth of geological, botanical, zoological, anthropological and other materials which created a foundation upon which much of American science was formed. At least three of the scientists involved with the expedition gained international acclaim from their efforts.

The expedition was authorized by Congress in response to popular demand. Investigations were carried on in widely separated areas of the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans including Brazil, Tierra del Fuego, Antarctica, Chile, Australia, New Zealand, the west coast of North America, the Philippines and the East Indies. The two penetrations into Antarctic waters were in February and March 1839, and

January and February of 1840. Even though the Antarctic portion of the expedition was part of a larger plan in the Pacific, major accomplishments were gained. Wilkes sighted land on several occasions as he sailed along the edge of the ice pack south of Australia for some 1500 miles. Thus, Wilkes was the first to provide proof of the existence of an Antarctic continent. Simultaneous to the Wilkes expedition were expeditions from two of the dominant players in Antarctic exploration, Great Britain and France. The French expedition, commanded by Dumont d'Urville, explored the Antarctic Peninsula from January to March 1838, and landed on the Adélie Coast, on the other side of Antarctica, in January 1840. The British Expedition under James Clark Ross explored the Ross Sea in 1840-41 and returned there again the following year. The 1842-43 season was spent on the edge of the Weddell Sea.

During the early 1800's American sealing and whaling ships were reaping huge rewards for their efforts. Demand for furs and whale bone, oil for lamps and ambergris for use in perfumes was rapidly growing. Unfortunately, the hunting grounds off Chile and Peru were quickly diminishing and by the 1820's the New England sailors were forced more and more to the south in search of new game. As a result, penetration into Antarctic seas created diverse problems for the sailors as captains were reluctant to proclaim to other expeditions where their new hunting grounds were located. Ships suddenly found themselves in raging weather among unreported islets. A number of vessels foundered or wrecked on these islets and submerged reefs. Demands grew from the New England whalers and sealers for the US Government to sponsor exploring expeditions to the Antarctic in hopes of finding, and subsequently charting, new hunting grounds. The indifferent success of the private expedition led by Benjamin Pendleton and Nathaniel Palmer in 1829-31 could not fulfill their hopes. Upon their return, Pendleton actually asked Congress to reimburse him for his losses!

On May 18, 1836, Congress passed an amendment to the Naval Appropriations Bill authorizing the President to "send out a surveying and exploring expedition to the Pacific Ocean and the South Seas," and a total of $300,000 was appropriated for the expedition. The amendment passed the Senate by a vote of 26 to 3 while in the House there was considerable opposition where the final vote was 79 to 65.

The primary purpose of the expedition was to aid commerce and navigation, but it was also supposed "to extend the bounds of science and to promote knowledge". In April 1838, four naval vessels were assigned to the expedition, with the VINCENNES, a sloop of war of 780 tons, designated as the flagship. Other vessels were the PEACOCK, a sloop of war of 650 tons, the PORPOISE, a brig of 230 tons, and the store ship RELIEF. Two New York pilot boats, the 110-ton schooner SEA GULL and the 96-ton schooner FLYING FISH were purchased for the expedition to be used as survey vessels close in to shore.

Wilkes was not the navy's first choice to lead the expedition. Thomas Ap Catesby Jones was originally placed in command but resigned in disgust due to delays coming from the Secretary of the Navy. The command was then offered to Commodore Shubrick, who declined. Captains Kearney and Gregory were asked and they thought it politically incorrect and so stepped aside. The next man chosen was Charles Wilkes. With little experience in sea duty, he more than made up for it in vision, intelligence and determination. His sense of mission and national pride demanded high standards of performance from himself and his crew. Unfortunately, he was not without flaws. A strict disciplinarian, he ran a taut ship..too taut for much of his crew. Many of the crew disliked him but, on the other hand, praised him for driving himself even harder. At final count, Wilkes would take with him 82 officers, nine naturalists, scientists and artists, and 342 sailors. Of the latter, only 223 would return to the United States with the expedition, or aboard other American vessels. During the voyage 62 would be discharged as unsuitable, 42 would desert, and 15 would die of disease, injury or be drowned. On August 18, 1838 Wilkes led his

squadron to sea to begin the great United States Exploring Expedition.

VINCENNES

Their first stop was at Madeira and from there they made their way down the South American coast where they clustered in Orange Harbor near the southern tip of Tierra del Fuego. It was here that Wilkes split the expedition into three teams. Wilkes moved his command to the PORPOISE and, with the SEA GULL as tender, prepared to push as far southwards as possible. The second group, comprised of the PEACOCK and FLYING FISH, would be sent southwestward to find, and hopefully better, James Cook's most southerly penetration. The remaining group, comprised of the VINCENNES and RELIEF, were to carry out survey work in the region of Tierra del Fuego and the Straits of Magellan. The four departing vessels took aboard a 10 month's supply of foodstuffs from the RELIEF as they anticipated a winter trapped in ice. Ten days after the PORPOISE and SEA GULL set sail from Orange Harbor, they found themselves shrouded in fog and coated with ice. Wilkes abandoned the expedition and sent the SEA GULL to Deception Island where her captain was to land and collect a self-registering thermometer that was left on the island in 1829. The instrument was never located and the SEA GULL found itself in a fierce storm. The PORPOISE, while on her way back to Tierra del Fuego, very nearly ran aground on Elephant Island due to the soupy fog. Meanwhile, the PEACOCK and FLYING FISH had troubles of their own. Two days out from Orange Harbor the FLYING FISH disappeared in the fog. The FLYING FISH was hit with a strong storm that ripped away some of her sails, crushed her boats and injured the helmsman and lookout. Incredibly, she still managed to fight her way through and on March 22 reached within one degree of Cook's furthest penetration.

Then, on March the 25th the FLYING FISH was sighted among the ice floes. It had been a month since she had first disappeared in the fog and while the captains were jubilant over their meeting, they nonetheless hurried to get underway as they agreed the days were growing shorter and their ships were in poor condition. The FLYING FISH would return to Orange Harbor while the PEACOCK would sail on to Valparaíso.

Upon reaching Orange Harbor, the FLYING FISH encountered the PORPOISE, SEA GULL and

VINCENNES already at anchor. The RELIEF was away having taken the scientists into the Straits of Magellan for a survey. Charles Wilkes was not aware of the fact that the RELIEF nearly wrecked at the entrance to the straits and that she, like the PEACOCK, had decided to sail directly to Valparaíso. Wilkes waited until April 20 for the return of the RELIEF but finally gave up and sailed the PORPOISE and VINCENNES north. Alone in Orange Harbor, the FLYING FISH and the SEA GULL awaited the return of the store ship RELIEF. On April 28, with no sign of the RELIEF, they set sail for Valparaíso. At midnight they lost contact as the FLYING FISH struggled to ride out a nine-day gale. As for the SEA GULL, she was never seen again, lost with all hands somewhere off the long Chilean coast.

As with other exploratory expeditions, the Americans made use of the Antarctic winter to extend their knowledge of the Pacific island groups. The waters and coastlines of the Paumoto Islands, Tahiti, Samoa, the Marshalls and Hawaii were charted as the scientists collected botanical and geological specimens. Wilkes, once again in command of the VINCENNES, sailed from Sydney, Australia on December 26, 1839. With the PORPOISE, PEACOCK and FLYING FISH close behind, their first rendezvous was to be at Macquarie Island, 800 miles southeast of Tasmania. Seven days of good weather ushered the vessels southward but on the night of January 1, 1840 the FLYING FISH lost sight of the others. She went on, as planned, to Macquarie Island. Two days later, amid worsening weather, the PEACOCK also became separated from the group. She too reached Macquarie Island but anchored out of sight of the FLYING FISH. The VINCENNES and PORPOISE both were blown off course and subsequently passed east of the island. Wilkes decided too much time would be lost trying to fight his way back to Macquarie Island so the VINCENNES and PORPOISE continued on to their second rendezvous point where they would wait for the other two ships. Unfortunately, the FLYING FISH was leaking badly with waves breaking over her. Despite the problems, Lt. Pinkney took the ship southwards in a determined attempt to catch the others. On January 9 the VINCENNES and PORPOISE reached the second rendezvous point, Emerald Island, but lo and behold there was nothing but open water. They had fallen victim to inaccurate charts. With no time to spare, they continued south. Two days later the vessels reached what Wilkes was to refer to as "the icy barrier". They had sailed as far south as possible so they turned westwards in an attempt to find a passage through the pack ice. On January 16 the PEACOCK came into view. Concern was voiced over the fate of the FLYING FISH. The FLYING FISH actually reached the ice barrier on January 21 and struggled westwards from there in an attempt to reach the others. Admitting defeat, they turned north and arrived in New Zealand five weeks later.

Reunited, the VINCENNES, PORPOISE and PEACOCK sailed west among the ice floes. On the day that the PEACOCK arrived a view of land had been shouted by the lookouts. All three vessels sighted the land and Wilkes sketched what he took to be a distant range of mountains. He named one of them Ringgold's Knoll, after the captain of the PORPOISE. Two days later, an officer aboard the PEACOCK captured an emperor penguin. The bird was found to contain 30 pebbles in it's stomach which further confirmed evidence of land, especially since the water was so shallow. On January 24 the PEACOCK was on it's own, attempting to get closer to land. Captain Hudson took his vessel into a bay crowded with floes. While attempting to avoid the large blocks of ice, the ship met with disaster. The PEACOCK crashed astern into an ice floe, the force of which threw his crew to the deck. Inspection revealed that the rudder had been torn from it's fixings. The ice closed in, grinding against the hull. Anchors were hooked on to the floes, only to be torn loose. Time and again she was rammed by great masses of ice. The stern boat was crushed. The carpenters worked throughout the night to repair the rudder. By eight o'clock on the morning of January 25, the rudder was in position again and the sloop worked her way free of the bay. Some crewmembers wished to continue on but Captain Hudson determined the PEACOCK had served her term. She turned north, reaching Sydney in the last week of February 1840.

PEACOCK driven into the iceberg ... On January 30 a lookout aboard the PORPOISE spotted a vessel in the distance. It was the French explorer Dumont d'Urville on

board the ASTROLABE . As the story goes, Lt. Ringgold "closed with the strangers, desiring to pass within hail under their stern. But so far from any reciprocity being given, I saw with surprise sail making by boarding the main tack on board the ASTROLABE. Without a moment's delay, I hauled down my colours and bore up on my course before the wind". Dumont d'Urville and Ringgold both claimed they were insulted by the other. They had met but behaved like a pair of touchy prima-donnas.

The PORPOISE continued westwards reaching 100 degrees East on February 14, 1840. Satisfied his duty was done, the PORPOISE turned eastwards and then north to reach the Bay of Islands, New Zealand, on March 26.

It is ironic that at this time Wilkes was unaware his flagship was the last of the squadron in the Antarctic. Pressing west, Wilkes drove the VINCENNES onward, sighting land on February 12. He celebrated with champagne, spent three hours taking observations, then once again sent the VINCENNES tacking west. On February 21 he confronted a wall of ice that stretched as far as the eye could see. He named it Termination Land which was changed later to Termination Ice Tongue and still later changed to the Shackleton Ice Shelf. It extends 180 miles out from the shoreline.

With a number of sightings logged, a list of mountains and headlands named, the tough-minded commander of The United States Exploring Expedition took his flagship back to Sydney. Captain Hudson, aboard the PEACOCK, was there to greet him and Wilkes promptly declared discovery of the Antarctic continent which he dated as January 19, 1840.

Between the spring of 1840 and the summer of 1842, Wilkes undertook a lengthy survey of the North American coast, then sailed to the Philippines and around the Cape of Good Hope. By the time he returned to the United States in 1842, his discoveries had been challenged along with his conduct as commander of the expedition. Upon his return, Wilkes learned that the English explorer James Clark Ross had sailed across some of the land the American claimed to have seen. Ross was correct, but so was Wilkes as Wilkes had experienced the effect known as looming, or polar refraction, which is a desert-like mirage that projects a perfect image relayed by the upper atmosphere, convincing the observer it is far closer than it really is. Wilkes made matters worse when he attempted to retract his recorded date of discovery as January 19, changing the date to January 16. It was his attempt to lay sole claim to discovery of the Antarctic continent since French explorer Dumont d'Urville also claimed January 19 as the date of his first view of the mainland. This matter aside, his biggest problem were charges leveled against him by his fellow officers. A Naval Court of Inquiry was convened, culminating in July 1842 in a sad and sordid court martial. All but one of the charges against him fell apart. The Court found him guilty of the illegal punishment of seamen, based on an incident that had occurred in Callao, aboard the RELIEF. Six of the crew had stolen liquor from the stores, and Wilkes had ordered them to be punished with more than the legal 12 lashes. The verdict left him fuming, but he concentrated on his efforts on writing the five-volume Narrative of his voyage. It was published in 1845, Congress allowing no more than 100 printed copies. Two of these were offered to France, two to Great Britain, two to Imperial Russia, two lodged in the Library of Congress. One each was given to the States of the Union, one to 25 designated countries, one to the Naval Lyceum, Brooklyn. Captain Hudson was given one, as was Captain Ringgold. Wilkes was allowed a single copy.

Wilkes went on to continue his career in the navy. He returned to active duty in 1861 during the Civil War, but his interception of a British mail steamer almost brought Britain into the war on the

side of the Confederacy. Wilkes went before a court martial once again, was found guilty and placed on the retired list. It took many years before his Antarctic accomplishments were recognized.

Jules-Sebastien-Cesar Dumont d'Urville1790-1842

On January 20, 1840 Captain Dumont d'Urville was exploring the same seas as the United States Exploring Expedition when he and his crew sighted land about a hundred miles west of the first position reported by Senior Commander Wilkes of the USEE four days before. A landing party went ashore on a small, rock-covered island near the ice cliff and planted the French flag thus assuming possession of the region on January 22. The claim extends from the coastline for approximately 135 miles between the 142nd and 137th east meridians extending inland all the way to the South Pole. A voyage of world circumnavigation, the French naval expedition of 1837-40, commanded by d'Urville on the ASTROLABE and Jacquinot on the ZÈLÈE visited the South Orkney Islands, South Shetland Islands, the northwest coast of Trinity Peninsula, Orléans Channel and Joinville Island. Here is their story.

Jules-Sébastien-César Dumont d'Urville was born in 1790 in the fruit-growing region of Calvados. By the age of 17 he was accepted into the French Navy and graduated at the top of his class of 1811 attaining the rank of ensign three years later. He had many interests and spoke fluently the English, German, Spanish, Greek, Italian and Hebrew languages. He studied astronomy, geology, entomology and botany.

In late 1819, d'Urville was on a voyage to chart areas of the Black Sea and eastern Mediterranean aboard the CHEVRETTE when, during a survey of the Mirtoan Sea, the ship anchored off the island of Mílos. During a conversation with the French consular official on the island, d'Urville learned of a statue recently unearthed on the island. He visited the site and was overwhelmed by the beauty of the artwork whereupon d'Urville immediately wrote the French government pleading for them to purchase the statue. The government authorities responded quickly and instructed him to purchase the statue 'for whatever it might cost'. It now stands in the Louvre Museum in Paris...the Venus de Milo. King Charles X rewarded d'Urville with the Legion of Honor and promoted him to Lieutenant de Vaisseau.

August 1822 found d'Urville serving aboard the COQUILLE on a hydrographic and botanical research expedition to the Gilbert and Caroline Islands, Tahiti, the Falkland Islands and a part of Western Australia then known as New Holland. After 31 months and 13 days, they returned with numerous charts, maps, sketches, specimens and samples. After their return to France from the COQUILLE Expedition, d'Urville was awarded the Cross of St. Louis and promoted to Commander. Soon, d'Urville submitted a plan for further research in the southern ocean. Promising new discoveries and improved hydrographic methods enabling safer passages in foreign waters, his plan was approved in December 1825. On April 22, 1826 d'Urville departed Toulon on the ASTROLABE (formerly the COQUILLE) with his second-in-command Charles Hector Jacquinot. This proved to be his second successful circumnavigation of the world. Among his accomplishments were the discovery of the Fijian islands of Matuku and Totoya, successful charting of the Loyalty Islands, surveying of the New Zealand coastline and mapping and exploration of the Tongas and Moluccas. The records were so detailed that for the first time the scattered islands could be divided into three major groups: Melanesia, Polynesia and Micronesia. The ASTROLABE returned to France on March 25, 1829.

Upon his return, d'Urville was accused of arrogance and self-seeking, of treating his crew

harshly and a willingness to exaggerate his findings. Whether true or not, he nevertheless was desk-bound, without a command, for the next seven years. Suddenly in early 1837, d'Urville submitted a plan to the navy for another voyage of exploration to the Pacific islands, this time approaching them via the Straits of Magellan. King Louis-Philippe was interested in expanding France's presence in the southern seas; he was aware of the immense accomplishments of England's James Weddell in 1823 as well as America's interest in Antarctica and so his request was accepted. d'Urville only requested one ship but the King gave him two: the ASTROLABE with 17 officers and 85 men and the ZÈLÈE with 81 officers and men. He was instructed to take them through the Straits of Magellan, across to Pitcairn Island, the Fijis, and the Solomons. From there he was to sail along the northern coast of New Guinea, then to Western Australia, Tasmania and New Zealand. But....first he would have to sail to the South Shetlands and then south 'as far as the ice permits'.

The men were selected for his voyage and promised a bonus of 100 gold francs if they reached the 75th parallel, which was beyond Weddell's southing. An extra 20 francs were promised for each degree further south. On September 7, 1837, the ships departed Toulon. At the end of the month they were anchored at Tenerife in the Canary Islands. By October 7, d'Urville had to cancel shore leave due to the irritation caused by the drunkenness of his men. Troubled by Atlantic fog, the ships were still north of the Straits of Magellan on December 10. Christmas was spent in the straits where the crew fished, hunted wild geese and prepared the ships for the brutality of the southern oceans. On January 8, 1838, d'Urville led the ships out of the straits and south along the coast of Tierra del Fuego. Four days later found them in a sea of wilderness running east-southeast into freezing fog and rain. It was not much longer when the first ice was spotted and by January 31 d'Urville was encouraged to find himself following Weddell's route. Unfortunately, the weather encountered by Weddell in 1823 was extraordinarily mild in comparison to the weather bestowed upon d'Urville's ships in 1828. On the night of January 21-22, d'Urville was suddenly awakened by a frightened crew. As he hurried on deck, there before him was a low wall of ice stretching across the horizon. With no alternative, they turned north and by January 24 it was determined they had been forced so far to the north that it would be impossible to attain what Weddell had achieved. The ships turned for the South Orkneys for a few day's rest. Depressed by his failure while suffering from gout and migraine, d'Urville was suspicious of Weddell's claim to the penetration so far to the south. He wrote bitterly of his time in the South Orkneys: 'Nothing anywhere in the world could be more gloomy and more repulsive than the aspect of these desolate regions'. On February 2, 1838, the ships were once again sailing southwards in search of Antarctica. Within 48 hours they came upon another icefield. With raised spirits, d'Urville followed it westwards and entered an inlet in the ice with Jacquinot, on the ZÈLÈE close behind. Although a brave attempt, it was foolhardy as during the night he heard the ice crack and crunch and by morning the channel had closed behind the ships.

Working frantically to free the ASTROLABE

"We then had to use every means at our disposal. Men climbed down onto the ice to tie ropes to the floes...those who remained on board hauled on them to move painfully forward, while others tried to push the ice aside with picks, pincers and pickaxes...Seeing our two ships, one thought of two crayfish stranded by the tide on a beach full of stones...and struggling to regain the open sea". It took five days to bust free from the ice-filled lake. During the process a number of the crew suffered from frostbite, including all three surgeons. Eventually they landed on Weddell Island where they hunted for fresh meat, killing and eating penguins which they compared favorably with

chicken.

Continuing westward, the ships reached the South Shetland Islands on February 27. A coastline was observed stretching to the south so d'Urville claimed the territory for his king and country, naming it Louis-Philippe Land; the coastline which extended eastwards was called Joinville Land.

The ships remained in the area until early March. They mapped and charted the northern area of what is known today as Graham Land. The surgeon on board the ASTROLABE informed d'Urville of crewmen showing signs of scurvy. Concealing this fact so as not to alarm the other crew members, d'Urville accepted their fate and began a long, slow journey towards Chile. By March 27 there were 21 confirmed cases of scurvy aboard the ASTROLABE, while the ZÈLÈE resembled a floating hospital. On April 1 crew member Lepreux died. The hydrographer, Dumoulin, and the ASTROLABE'S second officer, Demas, both became ill with the disease. The ships reached the port of Talcahuano in Chile on April 6. Even though the epidemic had been contained on the ASTROLABE, there were 38 cases of scurvy on the ZÈLÈE. Dumont d'Urville had demanded too much of his men and subsequently nine men deserted him in Talcahuano. Others too sick to travel were left behind as d'Urville continued on to Valparaiso. It was here that d'Urville learned that his struggles and accomplishments were deemed a failure by his critics. He was eventually able to convince them otherwise as he displayed the ship's records, charts and geological specimens he had obtained.

Between May 1838 and October 1839 d'Urville led the ASTROLABE and ZÈLÈE on an exploring adventure across the breadth of the Pacific Ocean. The scurvy suffered in southern waters was now replaced with fever and dysentery which cost the lives of 14 men and officers during the voyage. Another six died in Hobart, Tasmania which was his departure point for his third attempt at reaching the Antarctic mainland.

On January 2, 1840 the ships were headed out to sea. Within a week, the surgeons reported a total of 16 men ill with seasickness due to the constant rolling of the seas. By January 18th they crossed the 64th parallel. At 6 o'clock the following morning the lookouts counted half a dozen huge icebergs nearby. By 6 o'clock that evening they were surrounded by at least 59. The hydrographer, Dumoulin, climbed the rigging of the ASTROLABE and reported 'an appearance of land'. The belief that land was near raised the spirits of all those aboard. At 9 o'clock the sun was still above the horizon and at 10:50 PM d'Urville wrote that the sun disappeared 'and showed up the raised contour of land in all its sharpness. Everyone had come together on to the deck to enjoy the magnificent spectacle'. On January 20 d'Urville wrote '...before us rose the land; one could distinguish the details of it...Unfortunately an unbroken calm prevented us from approaching it to make the matter certain. Nevertheless, joy reigned on board; henceforth the success of our enterprise was assured'. Despite a light breeze, by the middle of the following day they were within four miles of land. Showing no signs of a safe place to go ashore, they turned west, following the coast, until 6 PM when a boat was lowered so that Dumoulin could take sightings from one of the icebergs. Another boat was launched from the ZÈLÈE and by 9 PM the two boats reached an islet only a few hundred yards off the coast. The officers and men struggled ashore, shoving aside penguins in the process, and planted a flag claiming the land in the name of France. The men then set about exploring the islet, searching for any life. They unfortunately found nothing but a few chips of granite which was enough to prove that they had landed on firm ground rather than an iceberg. Recording the landing and departure, officer Joseph-Fidéle-Eugéne Dobouzet wrote '...We saluted our discovery with a general hurrah...The echoes of these silent regions, for the first time disturbed by human voices, repeated our cries and then returned to their habitual silence'. The boats rowed back to their respective ships and Dumont d'Urville promptly named the mainland Terre Adélie after his wife's name. The wide stretch of water along its shore is now known as the Dumont d'Urville Sea.  

Ham Radio QSL Card Confirming My 2-Way Radio Contact With Base Dumont d'Urville

Almost immediately the weather turned brutal with temperatures dropping to below freezing and whirlwinds of snow surrounding the ships. In the confusion, the ASTROLABE lost contact with the ZÈLÈE creating intense fear among the crewmembers of being driven into an iceberg or on top of the icepack itself. The ASTROLABE struggled in seas with waves spilling over onto her decks causing her to heel over at such an angle that the leeward battery was almost entirely covered by the sea. By January 29 the ships were moving rapidly southwest with only a few icebergs in sight. A little after 4 o'clock in the afternoon a very surprised lookout spotted an approaching ship closing fast. The westbound vessel was the PORPOISE, the American ship of the United States Exploring Expedition commanded by Charles Wilkes. No signals were exchanged and no greetings exchanged. The PORPOISE sailed quickly to the west while the ASTROLABE headed north.

Dumont d'Urville spent eight more months exploring southern waters. He returned to Hobart, sailed on to New Zealand, turned north to New Guinea and Timor, north again to St. Helena Island and on November 6, 1840, the two ships entered the harbor at Toulon. They had been away three years and two months.

 Upon his arrival, d'Urville was promoted to the rank of rear admiral. The Geographical Society awarded him their highest honor, the Gold Medallion. Jacquinot and Dumoulin were also promoted. The French government was so delighted with their accomplishments that they shared 15,000 gold francs among the 130 survivors of the expedition.

In 1842, while with his wife and son, d'Urville was killed in a train accident near Versailles.James Weddell

1787-1834

 

James Weddell joined the Navy in 1796 and by 1815 had risen to the rank of Master earning him high marks from his superiors in the process. In 1819 he joined the Merchant Service and was introduced to a shipwright named James Strachan who, along with several other partners, owned a 160 ton brig. Weddell persuaded Strachan to give him command of the ship for a sealing expedition to the newly discovered South Shetland Islands. Even though Weddell was new to sealing, Strachen went along with the plans due to Weddells Antarctic training while in the Navy. Little is known about this voyage other than Weddell actually visited the group as

well as the South Orkney Islands recently found by Powell and Palmer. Weddell returned in 1821 but it was an unprofitable venture due to insufficient cargo.

The following year a second voyage was planned, again primarily for sealing, but this time it was agreed that Weddell would attempt to search beyond those efforts of earlier sealers. On September 17, 1822 the JANE, manned by 22 men along with the 65 ton BEAUFOY, with 13 men under the command of Matthew Brisbane, departed from England.

Due to the inadequate size of the ships, along with poor provisions, the task ahead was a formidable one indeed. Between 1820 and 1822 no less than six sealing vessels had shipwrecked in the South Shetlands. The JANE, in particular, received significant damage to her planking and stem due to the severe weather. There was plenty of rum for the sailors (3 glasses a day), but the food was inadequately supplied from the onset. Rations had to be halved while wintering in the Falkland Islands and scurvy was a constant threat although only one crewman died.

Weddell was an explorer at heart. The accuracy of his observations and the charts prepared of the South Orkneys proved he was a man who admired accuracy and despised the wild and unsubstantiated claims made by some of the earlier explorers. Even though there were tremendous problems confronted by the expedition, Weddell, much like Cook before him, was a great leader of men. The men were cheerful and willing to work despite all the hardships.

After stopping at Madeira and Bona Vista, Weddell crossed the equator on November 7 and sailed on to the Falkland Islands for repairs arriving on December 19. On December 30, both ships sailed south and reached the eastern end of the South Orkneys on January 13, 1823. Finding few seals Weddell decided to search further south. Slowly the two vessels made their way south experiencing difficulties with fog and icebergs along the way. By January 27, Weddell turned north once again as, after all, he was to hunt for seals and thus far his cargo hold was essentially empty. Hoping to find land between the South Orkneys and South Shetlands, Weddell sailed to within 100 miles of Sandwich Land where he came close enough to Cook's route to know he would not find land where he had hoped to. It was on February 4 that Weddell decided to head south once again. Brisbane bravely agreed and in the dark and foggy weather the two ships began their historic journey.

Both crews suffered from the intense cold and fog. Weddell did what he could for them but the small ships were constantly battered by the gales which kept them in a perpetual state of dampness. The weather eventually cleared and at noon on February 20 Weddell determined his position to be some 214 miles further south than Cook had achieved. The weather was now extraordinarily clear and mild. Four icebergs were sighted but there was no land in sight. Due to the lateness of the season, along with Weddell's possible doubts of there being any land at the pole, Weddell took advantage of the favorable winds and headed north. The crew was naturally disappointed in his decision but Weddell gave a speech to the crew praising their efforts and congratulating them on penetrating further south than anyone before them. Weddell named the waters King George IV's Sea. After sheltering at South Georgia and wintering at the Falklands, the ships sailed for the South Shetlands in October 1823. They were struck by a violent hurricane and upon reaching the islands they discovered a thick ice pack surrounding them so on the 18th of November, Weddell turned to the west to search for seals around Cape Horn. Both ships eventually returned to England in July 1824.

It is sad to note that no other ship has successfully sailed the same route as Weddell to substantiate his claim but there seems to be no reason to disbelieve him. It was a record southing that would not be broken until Wilhelm Filchner succeeded nearly 100 years later in 1911.

Fabian Gottlieb von Bellingshausen1778-1852

After the death of James Cook in 1779, the European nations realized little success in their search for the great southern continent, Terra Australis. In 1819 Czar Alexander I of Russia authorized an expedition to the south polar region and thus the search was renewed.

The man chosen to command the expedition was Fabian Gottlieb von Bellingshausen. Born in 1779, he began his naval career as a cadet at the age of 10, graduating from the Naval Academy at Kronstadt at the age of 18. He was 40 years old when the call came forth for his exciting voyage to the south polar region. His goal was to continue the work of Cook while sailing as far south as possible. It is safe to say that Bellingshausen considered Cook a personal hero and mentor as he constantly studied Cook's remarkable achievements.

Bellingshausen's flagship was a 600 ton corvette named the VOSTOK . The second ship was the 530 ton MIRNYI which was a transport vessel. Both ships were built of pinewood. A total of 117 men sailed with the Vostok and 72 were aboard the MIRNYI. In the third week of July, they set sail eventually arriving at Portsmouth, England where he went on to meet in London with the president of the Royal Society, Sir Joseph Banks. Banks had sailed 50 years earlier with Cook and now supplied the Russians with books and charts for their expedition. On September 5, 1819 Bellingshausen's polar expedition departed from Portsmouth and by the end of the year they were within sight of South Georgia. From here they headed southeast for the South Sandwich Islands where they began a circumnavigation of the group. It is interesting to note that icebergs supplied their fresh water needs. On January 26, 1820 Bellingshausen crossed the Antarctic Circle becoming the first to do so since Cook in 1773. The following day his log indicates sailing to within 20 miles of the Antarctic mainland. He should have been able to see it so perhaps he simply mistook it for a wall of ice. The dispute as to who first sighted the mainland remains to this day. England says it was their naval captain Edward Bransfield, America says it was their sealer Nathaniel Palmer while the Russians insist it was Bellingshausen. On February 22 the VOSTOK and MIRNYI were hit by the worst storm of the voyage. For three days they were pounded by the storm with heavy snows and wind causing ice encrusted ropes and spars which concealed the icebergs from the weary lookouts. His only option was to sail north and on April 11, 1820 the faster VOSTOK arrived at Sydney harbor with the MIRNYI entering the harbor eight days later. After a month of rest, Bellingshausen took his ships on a four month exploratory cruise of the Pacific. Arriving back in Sydney in September, Bellingshausen was notified by the Russian consul that an English sealing captain named William Smith had discovered a group of islands on the 67th parallel, which he called the South Shetlands, and had proclaimed them to be part of the Antarctic continent. Bellingshausen immediately decided to take a look for himself with the major motive of finding a way to continue further south.

On the morning of November 11, 1820 the VOSTOK and MIRNYI left Sydney for the last time arriving at Macquarie Island the last week of November where they exchanged greetings with English and American sealers. Here they discovered the fur seal population had been entirely wiped out and now the slaughter was of the elephant seals.

On December 24th the ships once again penetrated the Antarctic Circle, the first since their exploratory voyage eleven months earlier. It didn't last long as they were confronted with storms pushing them northward and by the 16th of January, 1821 they had crossed the circle no less than 6 different times with each time resulting in the relentless storms forcing them northward. On January 21 the weather finally had cleared and at 3:00 PM they spotted a dark speck against the ice in the distance. All telescopes on the VOSTOK scanned the sight and with the increasing sunlight Bellingshausen had no doubt that they had discovered land within the Antarctic Circle. The next day the land turned out to be an island which Bellingshausen named Peter I Island. Fog and ice kept them from landfall so they continued on for the South Shetlands. On January 28 they were enjoying fine weather, within the 68th parallel, when once again land was sighted some 40 miles to the south-southeast. Too much ice lay between the ships and landfall but a number of mountains free of snow were sighted. Bellingshausen named his second discovery

Alexander Coast, now known as Alexander Island. Although not part of the mainland, it is nevertheless connected to it by a deep wide shelf of ice and had they put a boat ashore and ventured across this shelf, they would have arrived on the Antarctic mainland. Sailing on, one week later they came upon eight English and American sealing ships in the South Shetlands. This is where Bellingshausen met a young American, Nathaniel Palmer, who was the captain of the HERO. Two different accounts of this meeting exist. According to American Edmund Fanning, Palmer told him Bellingshausen named the coast "Palmer's Land" in honor of the boy discoverer; Bellingshausen's own account only mentions a polite conversation about the weather and sealing with Palmer returning to his ship afterwards.

Contented, Bellingshausen sailed north and arrived in March at Rio de Janeiro where they remained until May overhauling the ships. On August 4, 1821 they dropped anchor at Kronstadt. The voyage had lasted two years and 21 days. Only three men had been lost. Russia seemed uncaring about the great discoveries as some ten years elapsed before Bellingshausens' works were even published, most of which remain untranslated. Russia was unimpressed with his circumnavigation of the continent and thus all interest in Terra Australis was abandoned until whaling fleets were sent to the south in 1946. The first Russian scientific base was established on the mainland during the International Geophysical Year (1957-58).

Bellingshausen continued to serve his country for another 30 years, attaining the rank of Admiral. He later became Governor of Kronstadt. Russia now claims that Bellingshausen was the true discoverer of the Antarctic mainland which, ironically, they failed to recognize for 100 years.

James Cook1728-1779

 

James Cook was born in the Yorkshire village of Marton on October 27, 1728. His first experience at sea came at the age of 18 when he signed on as a deckhand aboard a Whitby collier carrying coal to London. He became an accomplished mathematician in his spare time and was actually offered a command of his own ship but refused and joined the Royal Navy as a seaman. His talents were soon recognized and after two years he became master of his own ship, the PEMBROKE, and was ordered to chart the waters of the St. Lawrence River in Canada. His work was masterful and the Admiralty recalled him to England and placed him in command of the ENDEAVOUR which was to take a number of scientists to the Pacific Ocean for observance of Venus.

     The ENDEAVOUR departed England in 1768 and after visiting Tahiti the following year he discovered New Zealand and claimed it for Great Britain. Sailing west, in 1770 he sighted the east coast of Australia. From here he sailed north and on August 22 he claimed the whole of eastern Australia as a British possession. The ENDEAVOUR returned to England in 1771 having added significantly to Britain's potential empire in the Pacific.

     One question remained...whether the unexplored part of the southern hemisphere can only be an immense mass of water or possibly contain another continent. Such speculative geography was a question which had engaged the attention not only of learned men, but of most of the maritime powers of Europe. The British Admiralty decided it was time to find out once and for all. The Admiralty promoted Cook to Commander and was told to

prepare for his second voyage. He was instructed to travel south to find Bouvet's Cape Circumcision and determine whether or not it was part of the imagined continent. If so, he was to "take possession of convenient situations in the country in the name of the King of Great Britain". If not part of a continent, then he was to sail as far south as possible, circumnavigate the area and sail north whenever weather and ice made exploration impossible.

RESOLUTION and ADVENTURE, June 1772

The Admiralty outfitted the newly purchased Resolution and Adventure with the Resolution being Cook's flagship. The RESOLUTION was only 110 feet long and 35 feet across the beam. The ADVENTURE was even smaller. With little ceremony the two tiny ships set sail from Plymouth Sound at 6:00 am on July 13, 1772 faced with a three year voyage.

The two ships arrived at Cape Town, South Africa, some 109 days later. Cook soon learned of a voyage to the Indian Ocean by a Frenchman named Yves-Joseph de Kerguelen-Tremarec and of his discovery of land there which he called LA FRANCE AUSTRALE. It was important news as Cook determined this, like Bouvet's Cape Circumcision, could prove an existence of a southern continent. On November 23, 1772, Cook sailed out of Cape Town heading into the unknown waters to the south. On December 11 the crew of the ADVENTURE thought they found it. What they actually sighted was an iceberg and by the following day they found themselves at the edge of an endless pack of ice. On January 17, 1773, the ships most likely became the first to cross the Antarctic Circle. For two months Cook sailed alongside the pack, looking for an entrance to travel further south. Cape Circumcision was not to be found where reported and since he was well south of Kerguelen's discovery Cook determined that Kerguelen's La France Australe could not be part of a southern continent either.

With the onset of winter, Cook sailed north and reached Dusky Sound, on the South Island of New Zealand, on March 25 after sailing some 10,600 miles through uncharted waters. He spent the winter exploring the islands of the South Pacific. During a storm Cook became separated from the ADVENTURE but, nevertheless, sailed south once again on November 27. He once again reached the ice pack, in mid December, and continued his search for a way through to the south. Cook's skill as a seaman and navigator cannot be challenged...through heavy storms and dangerous seas filled with huge icebergs the RESOLUTION survived without the loss of a single man. On January 30 he reached his furthest south but could go no further. The ice "extended east and west far beyond the reach of our sight, while the southern half of the horizon was illuminated by rays of light which were reflected from the ice to a considerable height...It was indeed my opinion that this ice extends quite to the Pole, or perhaps joins to some land to which it has been fixed since creation".

Cook once again wintered in New Zealand, leaving in November 1774 on his third voyage. He sailed across the south Pacific and arrived five weeks later at Tierra del Fuego. He remained for two weeks and then left in a northeasterly direction into the Atlantic. Unexpectedly, they sighted land and immediately thought they had finally found the southern continent but instead it was an island, covered in ice, which he named South Georgia. Although his intentions were to continue to England, his temptation to the south could not be resisted and at the end of January he sighted a group of islands even more desolate than South Georgia. These he named the South Sandwich Islands. After a week of exploration in them, he turned

north for England, reaching England on July 30, 1775. The voyage lasted three years and eight days covering more than 60,000 miles. Cook had proved there was no southern continent unless it was at the pole itself.

Cook's reputation was unchallenged and with his conclusion one can assume that all further exploration would have been unnecessary except for one detail...he kept thorough records of his sailing. Although governments were to turn their attentions elsewhere for exploration, the owners of whaling fleets in Europe and America were drawn to the southern waters by the constant mention in his journals of large numbers of seals and whales encountered during the voyages. Thus it was they, not the explorers, who now prepared themselves for exploration into the Antarctic waters.

RESOLUTION and DISCOVERY at Kerguelen Islands

Cook was promoted again after returning from his second voyage in 1775. He accepted his appointment as Fourth Captain at Greenwich Hospital but with conditions; at 46 years of age he was not ready for this form of retirement so if his country were to call him for more active service or if he felt he could be of an essential service to the public, then he would quit the position. It didn't take long.

The RESOLUTION, now under command of Captain Clerke, was to sail to Tahiti to return a native who had been brought back to England by Tobias Furneaux on the ADVENTURE when it lost contact with Cook's RESOLUTION in the New Zealand storm of 1773. The ADVENTURE was unseaworthy and Cook was asked in early 1776 to find a replacement to accompany the RESOLUTION on the voyage. He recommended another Yorkshire collier, which the Admiralty accepted, renamed it the DISCOVERY and promptly decided to take command of the expedition.

Cook took command, once again, of the RESOLUTION while Clerke was in command of the DISCOVERY. The voyage was to be another sailing of exploration to the Pacific. However, this time the route was to be different. Known in England as the Northwest Passage, the route to the Pacific from the Atlantic could only be suspected as all 50 previous attempts at the passage had failed. Discovery of this northerly route to Asia could be significantly quicker than the hazardous route around Cape Horn. Since Cook needed to call at Tahiti, he decided to enter the Pacific from the Indian Ocean, in the process giving him an opportunity to investigate the land discovered by Kerguélen-Tremarec.

Cook and the RESOLUTION left Plymouth on July 12, 1776 with Clerke following a few weeks later in the DISCOVERY. A leaking RESOLUTION arrived in Cape Town on October 18 with the

DISCOVERY arriving on the 10th of November. Together they left on November 30th steering southeast in an attempt to locate a group of islands discovered some years earlier by Marion du Fresne. On December 12 they spotted the first of the islands whereby Cook promptly named them the Prince Edward Islands. Continuing further south, on December 24 they saw land exactly where they expected it to be. The land was an islet off the northwest point of Kerguélen's LA FRANCE AUSTRALE which they encountered later that day. The following day they entered a large bay and anchored near a sandy beach. Crew members went ashore and one of them found a bottle with a note in it containing an inscription in Latin recording the French visits in 1772 and 1773. Cook wrote of his own visit on the same parchment, placed it back in the bottle together with a silver coin and buried it again.

Cook spent four days exploring the island and coastline. While unimpressed due to the lack of trees, shrubs and little grass, there nevertheless was a good supply of fresh water. Cook called them the "Islands of Desolation" although they are known today as the Îsles Kerguélen.

On December 30, 1776, Cook and Clerke sailed away from the island for New Zealand. This was Cook's last contact with the Antarctic region. Cook was advised to wait until the summer of 1778 before starting his search for the Northwest Passage. On January 18, 1778, Cook made his last great discovery...the Hawaiian Islands. For the following month, the two ships sailed north up the west coast of America. Several unsuccessful attempts to locate the passage were tried along the coasts of Canada and Alaska. After sailing through the Bering Strait and crossing the Arctic Circle, Cook abandoned his search and turned both ships south for the Hawaiian Islands.

They reached the islands at the end of November and in the middle of January, 1779, Cook anchored at Kealakekua Bay where he was greeted by thousands of cheering natives. Upon returning to his ship on February 10, Cook discovered a native had stolen one of their boats. Cook went ashore on the 14th with a squad of marines to take the king back to the ship as a hostage. The king was even willing to go but when they reached the water's edge, a large group of natives stopped them and urged the king not to go. Up the shoreline, a chief was killed while trying to leave the beach and suddenly the mood became very hostile. A native approached Cook in a threatening manner and Cook fired at him. The natives attacked and the marines fired back with guns and bayonets. The battle only lasted a few minutes but when it was over, Cook lay dead on the beach.

Jean-Baptiste Charles Bouvet de Lozier1704-1786

 

Jean-Baptiste Charles Bouvet de Lozier was born in 1705. Orphaned at the age of 7, upon receiving his education in Paris he was sent to work in the shipyards at St. Malo. He studied navigation and received the rank of lieutenant in the Compagnie des Indes in 1731. With an insatiable desire to explore the southern seas, he petitioned his employers in 1733 with a plan of exploration. He asked for two ships consisting of a frigate and a larger trading vessel. For this, he promised to search the southern seas for land that could accommodate French trading vessels on route to the Far East. With a touch of arrogance, Bouvet adamantly expressed his desires to discover new land, in the name of France, and "If the Company accepts my plans, I insist on being given complete authority and made Governor of whatever I discover. A New Europe offers itself to whomsoever dares to discover it!"

Some three years later, his wish was granted. On July 19, 1738 the AIGLE and MARIE left the port of Lorient on a course for Santa Catarina Island off the coast of Brazil. Bouvet landed in early October, made repairs, resupplied the vessel and sailed southeast one month later. Although poorly equipped for the cold weather to follow, the ships crossed the 44th parallel on December 10th. Shrouded in fog, this was

the area placed on early maps where Bouvet was to find Terres Inconnues.

It wasn't until December 15th that the fog lifted and, unfortunately, all that was discovered was a large iceberg! The next day they had their first penguin encounter with Bouvet describing them as "amphibious creatures that look like large ducks, but have fins instead of wings". Continuing south, by the end of December they were nearly 1600 miles from inhabited land. Icebergs were increasingly present causing much fear in the crew..."In effect [they] are floating rocks which are more to be feared than land. If we hit one we will be lost...". On January 1, 1739, at 3:00 PM they spotted "a very high land, covered with snow, which appeared through the mist". It really was a miracle as Bouvet stumbled upon the only land within 20 degrees west and 90 degrees east! Bouvet believed it to be a promontory of the Antarctic mainland and promptly named it the "Cape of Circumcision". For twelve days Bouvet tried to land on the island but the dense fog suggested he continue to wait. Food staples became depleted and the crew fell sick with scurvy. With his crew devastated, Bouvet surrendered to the weather and headed east, following the 52nd parallel while skirting the ice floes. The crew had spotted a significant number of penguins and seals suggesting Terres Australes lay to the south. On January 25, Bouvet's seriously ill crew turned north for the Cape of Good Hope and anchored there on February 24.

It took three long months for the return voyage to France, reaching the port of Lorient on June 24. Five days later Bouvet drafted a letter which was sent to his directors suggesting his intense disappointment:

"I am sorry to inform you that the Terres Australes are much further from the Pole than hitherto believed, and completely unsuitable as a staging post for vessels en route to the Indies. We have sailed 1200-1500 leagues (3600-4500 miles) in unknown waters, and for seventy days encountered almost continuous fog. We were forty days among the icebergs and we had hail and snow almost every day. The cold was severe for men accustomed to a warmer climate. They were badly clothed and had no means of drying their bedding. Many suffered from chilblains but they had to keep working. I saw sailors crying with cold as they hauled in the sounding line. To alleviate the men's discomfort I distributed blankets, hats, shoes, old clothes...and I opened two kegs of brandy to issue to the crew. The dangers were as great as the discomforts. For more than two months we had been in uncharted waters. We had very little daylight and there were few times when we weren't encountering some kind or risk...It was not the officers and crew who failed in their mission, but rather the mission that failed them".

Although hugely disappointed, Bouvet was admired as an explorer with his name being added to the "Compagnie's" roll of honor. A number of navigational errors were committed by Bouvet during his exploration casting doubt on the very existence of his Cape of Circumcision. Captains James Cook and James Clark Ross both tried to find it, without success, as it had been incorrectly charted. Incredibly, it was 1808 before again being sighted, this time by the English whalers James Lindsay of the SNOW SWAN and Thomas Hopper of the OTTER. As with Bouvet, they were unable to approach the island. The first landing did not come until 1822 when American Benjamin Morrell forged on shore. In honor of the discoverer, he renamed it Bouvet's Island. Three years later an Englishman, Norris, chose to rename it Liverpool Island but on December 1, 1929, a Norwegian expedition claimed the 22 square mile island for Norway and once again credited its original discoverer by naming it Bouvet Island.