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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. The Autora, 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.
The Endurance
Expedition
The Transcontinental
Party
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 neighbourhood of the South Sandwich
Group. They told me they had often seen the floes come right
up to the Group in the summer-time, 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 harbour might be very great. If no safe
harbour 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 unfavourable. 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
south-east. 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 goodbye 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 end
 Sunday,
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 south-westerly 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 south-west.
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 Harbour
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 Island
 The
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.
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