Scott's Last Expedition/Volume 2/Voyages

VOYAGES OF THE TERRA NOVA

By Commanders E. R. G. R. Evans and
H. L. L. Pennell

First Voyage

To connect the thread of the story it is as well to run briefly over what occurred before Campbell landed at Cape Adare.

On January 28, 1911, Captain Scott and the southern depôt laying party having left, the ship proceeded for King Edward's Land with Lieutenant Campbell and his party on board. Ice preventing her from getting beyond Cape Colbeck, Campbell ran into the Bay of Whales, intending to land there; but finding Captain Amundsen had selected this site and built his hut here, he proceeded to the opposite extreme of Ross Sea to try and land on the north coast of South Victoria Land as far to the west as the ship could get. No landing place, however, could be found on this coast at all except at Cape Adare, Robertson Bay, where there is a moraine on which Borchgrevink wintered in 1898. There being no alternative he decided to build his hut here.

During the 18th and 19th the work of landing the stores for Campbell's party was carried out as rapidly as Feb. 18 and 19, 1911. Cape Adare. possible, a dead flat calm lasting the whole time. Heavy pack ice, setting round the ship, prevented all communication with the shore between 1 and 2 p.m. on the 18th; and at 4 p.m. on the 19th the ship was again being pressed by the ice, only more heavily than on the previous day, so that it was necessary for her to steam to her anchor.

At 8 p.m. the order was given to weigh and stand off, and the night was spent by the ship in doing magnetic work, as fortunately the middle of Robertson Bay was clear of ice.

At 3.30 a.m. the moraine was again approached, and the watch that had been landed to work on shore were Feb. 20, 1911. re-embarked. An adieu to Campbell's little party was hooted on the syren and the Terra Nova steamed to the N.N.W., in a calm, but with a rapidly falling barometer, to try and get round the pack that always extends north of North Cape.

Her orders were to explore to the west of North Cape as far as the coal supply allowed.

Six a.m. found her clear of the pack off the entrance to the bay. All hands set to to clear up the decks, batten down and prepare for bad weather, and it was well on in the forenoon before they were able to get any rest. By noon a strong wind was blowing from E.S.E. and freshening, and the sea was beginning to get up, so fires were banked and she was snugged down to lower topsails.

Blink appearing on the port hand, course was altered to north to keep away from it, when snow obscured everything.

At noon on the 21st course was altered to W., and shortly after the ship ran very close to an iceberg which Feb. 21, 1911, 68° 41′ S., 168° 29′ E. showed us that the range of vision, estimated at half a mile for ice, was considerably less than had been thought. During the afternoon she crossed Ross's track, the most westerly track in this sea up to date. At midnight steam was again put on the engines, the wind and sea having died rapidly and the weather cleared. A sounding was taken in 1435 fathoms and course altered to the S.W. to close S. Victoria Land again.

Bruce in the afternoon watch picked up some snow-capped mountains, and after this more peaks and lower Feb. 22, 1911, 69° 10′ S., 164° 30′ E. land were quickly raised above the horizon, and a large number of icebergs appeared ahead. The ship was brought up by pack at 9.p.m. which stretched between her and the shore and parallel to the coast, as far as could be seen.

Though several attempts had been made, no ship previously had had the good fortune to get in sight of the coast west of North Cape, so the luck of the Terra Nova was in this season.

This new coast-line discovered by Lieutenant Pennell has been christened Oates Land, after Captain L. E. G. Oates of the Inniskilling Dragoons.

The land was tantalisingly covered in cloud. Nothing could be done till the morning, and so the night was spent trawling and swinging for variation. A sounding gave 178 fathoms. The trawl was particularly interesting and made ample amends for the delay. As soon as it was light enough to see, we tried to close the land as the pack did not look especially heavy. Clouds still hid all except the lower land.

An hour and a half showed the futility of attempting to get through, and at 5 a.m. the attempt was given up, the ship being then 8000 yards from the end of a glacier tongue and in 134 fathoms of water. This tongue appeared to run down from snow-covered rounded hills, Feb. 23, 1911, 69° 29′ S., 162° 49′ E. while behind it a rugged range of hills ran down to a point, apparently forming the eastern point of a large bay, as away to the west could be seen high cliffs with outcroppings of rock, but everything in that direction was much obscured by mist or haze. The ship's position, fixed by sun and moon, was 69° 43′ S., 163° 17′ E.

Forty-seven icebergs could be counted from this spot, all being in the pack and probably mostly aground. This trend of the land to the northward would well account for the hang of the pack and icebergs north of North Cape.

At 8 a.m. the ship started to skirt the pack to the westward, noting what details could be made out of the coast, which were not many. The routine now was for Rennick to sound every forenoon and middle watch, and if in comparatively shallow water, as often as time could be spared. The sounding-machine was worked by hand, and on many nights was a cold and patience-trying job.

As she worked westward the pack pressed the ship out Feb. 24, 1911, 69° 4′ S., 161° 19′ E. from the land, and in the afternoon a light fog and snow came down again. In the middle watch it blew a strong wind from the S.E., with thick snow, and she was hove to.

The snow stopped about 8 a.m., but the day was dull and one could not see far. Course was shaped S.S.W. and Feb. 25, 1911, 68° 50′ S., 159° 11′ E. by 2 the Terra Nova was stopped by pack with what appeared to be a miniature archipelago close to the southward. These turned out to be icebergs, probably aground, and some of large size, but when this was discovered the weather brightened and a cliffy coast-line was seen to the S.W. Following the pack along towards the land, it was soon seen that there was clear water inside the pack. This water extended, apparently, up to the land, and at one place the line of pack was not more than a mile broad. After sounding in 154 fathoms the ship was worked into the pack with high hopes of finding another place like Robertson Bay, which is often clear of pack, though the entrance is usually more or less guarded by it.

At 5 p.m., after an hour's struggle, the attempt was seen to be hopeless, the ship was only a third way through, and the pack grew heavier as she advanced. A light wind had sprung up and this had closed the pack, so that the ship was caught and unable to move at all. This was very disappointing and the position was not free from anxiety as, undoubtedly, there is a fair tidal stream in these waters, and grounded icebergs do not make pleasant neighbours in such circumstances.

As the sun got low the day improved, the clouds broke, and in the sunshine we had a good view of the land, though the upper parts of it were always shrouded in cloud. The ship appeared to be off a point (or angle) in the coast, apparently forming the western end of a large bay to the east of us. The coast was steep and rugged, half-bare rocky points separated by glaciers being the chief features. The hills behind did not appear to be very high, but this is only guess-work, as the higher land was obscured in clouds all the time and only occasionally a glimpse could be got when the clouds partially lifted in one spot or another. There was no movement in the ice in respect to the ship till 5 a.m., when Cheetham reported a general easing up, and shortly after the ship was able to turn and work out to the northward without unusual difficulty.

After taking bearings and making sketches from the edge of the pack we ran to the northward and north-westward, Feb. 26, 1911, 68° 57′ S., 158° 53′ E. with pack on the port hand and the coast beyond the pack till 2 p.m., when the coast made a sharp bend to the westward, though the edge of the pack still continued to trend to the northward. While one of the soundings was being taken on this day a rorqual fouled the sounding wire in a most extraordinary manner, and for a short time there was quite an exciting and very novel sport of playing whale, which naturally ended by the wire parting.

This was the last we saw of the land, the pack not being finally cleared till in Lat. 64°23′ S. Many times false hopes were raised by the ship running into clear water and being able to turn west and even south of west towards where C. Hudson is marked on the charts, but invariably it was only a few hours before she would be turned and, as a general rule, each noon position was east of the previous one. On the whole, after leaving the coast, the floes were of a less formidable character than those found off the north shore of Victoria Land, but the interspaces were filled with slush or else frozen over with new ice. This made pack that earlier in the season would have been easily negotiable now absolutely impassable. The nights also were drawing out, and after dark the first appearance of pack had to be the signal to heave to till daylight, which often meant till 6 a.m., as the morning twilight was found very bad for picking a way through the pack.

The sea was now frozen over in the sort of large lakes or pools of still, open water that were found in this sea, and though this ice was never more than a few inches thick, it made a considerable difference to our speed.

On March 2, while working through fairly loose pack, the wind that had been light westerly turned to E.N.E., March 2, 1911, 67° 35′ S., 160° 16′ E. with the immediate effect of closing the floes in, and the ship was completely held up. During that night the wind shifted again to the southward and so topsails and foresail were set. It was merely waste of coal to try and steam through this ice, but the steady pressure of the ship under sail let her gradually, though very slowly, work through; often held up by a floe for an hour or more, in the end she would manage to turn it and run ahead half a ship's length or so. This meant that in her wake was generally to be found a small pool of water clear of ice.

A number of whales (lesser rorquals) were in this pack, and they soon discovered this clear water and took advantage of it to come and blow; as there was not room for them to come up in the ordinary way, they had to thrust their heads up vertically and blow in a sort of standing-on-their-tails position. Several times one rested its head on a floe, not twenty feet from the ship, with its nostrils just on the water-line; raising itself a few inches, it would blow and then subside again for a few minutes to its original position, with its snout resting on the floe. The men amused themselves by pelting it with little bits of coal and other missiles, of which it appeared to be entirely unconscious. The grooves on their throats were plainly seen, quite clearly enough to count accurately; and sometimes even their moustaches could be distinctly made out, as also the white band on the flipper.

Fortunately (or unfortunately) the whale gun was out of action, and so there was no necessity to try and March 4, 1911, 67° 11′ S., 160° 47′ E. procure a specimen for biological purposes. Whales kept close to the ship till noon on the 4th, when, the pack having eased up, steam was again put on the engines and she was able to make appreciable way.

The ship passed only some ten miles west of Young Island (one of the Balleny Group), but although it was March 5, 1911, 66° 37′ S., 161° 42′ E. a sunny day all the Balleny Islands were covered in clouds, and no useful bearings could be taken.

At last, on March 8, when in 64° 23′ S., 161° 39′ E., she cleared the last of the pack, and in half an hour sooty albatross were round the ship, a sure sign that no pack was north of her.

The next fortnight was a struggle for the ship to keep to windward, the wind obstinately holding to the north side of west and generally blowing hard. Although so light, she was much stiffer than expected.

To the seaman of the present day used to iron ships it is a never-failing source of surprise and delight to see a wooden ship in a heavy sea. How nicely she rides the waves, like a living being, instead of behaving like a half-submerged rock.

The albatross and other deep-sea birds were a great pleasure; while south of Lat. 60° the pretty Hour-glass dolphin (first noticed by Dr. Wilson in the Discovery) was often round the ship.

On the 22nd, when ninety miles south of the Macquarie Islands, the long-hoped-for fair wind March 22, 1911, 56° 9′ S., 159° 15′ E. came at last and held till we made Stewart Island. On the 23rd steam was again raised.

The pumps had been a nuisance throughout, and during a gale on the 24th the trouble came to a head: the ship was heeling between 40 and 45 degrees and jumping about considerably, and only a little water could be got through the engine-room pumps. The hand pump had been kept going all night, but during the morning also choked, and as soon as there was a little water in the well, it lifted a plate in the engine-room during one of the ship's bad heels and let all the ashes and coal down into the well. Both bunker doors had to be shut and could not be opened with safety; engines were stopped and steam kept for the bilge pump, whose suction was with great difficulty kept partially free by Mr. Williams. He kept a perforated enamel jug on the end of the suction, and stopping the pump every two or three minutes as the suction choked, removed and cleared the jug, replaced it and then restarted the pump; this process having to be kept up the whole time the hand pumps were being seen to. To accomplish his object Williams had to lie flat on the boiler-room plates, and when the ship listed to starboard, stretch right down with his head below the plates and clear as much coal away from round the suction as possible. This often meant that the water surged back before he could get his head out, and there can be few nastier liquids to be ducked in than that very dirty bilge-water.

Meanwhile for the hand pumps Davies had to take off the bottom lengths of the suction pipes, lift them, and clear them from below. To do this the flange rivets had to be bored out, and it took eight hours' incessant work to finish the job.

During the re-fitting at Lyttelton pumps and everything connected with them were thoroughly overhauled in all respects and never gave serious trouble again.

Paterson Inlet was made on March 28 and Lyttelton on April 1.

Throughout all her cruise the scientific side of the ship's work was undertaken as follows: Lillie had all the biological work and Rennick was solely in charge of the soundings, and it can be safely said that neither of them missed a single opportunity that offered;
Meteorological Log: Drake;
Zoological Log: Bruce;
Magnetic Log and Current Log: Pennell;
while the officer of the watch, at the time, kept a genera lookout for anything of interest that might occur.

Lyttelton, April 1–July 10.The ship lay at Lyttelton for three months, undergoing a general and thorough refit. Rennick was employed the whole time in plotting as much of the surveying work carried out in the Page:Scott's Last Expedition, Volume 2.djvu/551 south as could be done in the time, and in preparing the charts for the forthcoming winter's cruise; while Bruce looked after the refit.

Here we should like to take the opportunity of thanking Mr. J. J. Kinsey for the great trouble he always took to help the Expedition in every way that lay in his power.

Winter Cruise

The ship again left Lyttelton on July 10 for a three months' July 10–Oct. 10, 1911. Winter Cruise. cruise, to carry out surveying work round the Three Kings' Islands and between this group and the extreme north of New Zealand.

Hereabouts rather troubled waters prevail, as the swell from the Tasman Sea to the west meeting that from the Pacific to the east often causes a confused swell even in calm weather. The routine was to sound all day and have Lillie's plankton nets over all night, while opportunities for trawling were always taken as they occurred, Lillie being ready any hour of the day or night. On the whole a very good biological collection was obtained.

Occasionally a visit was paid to Mangonui on the east coast to take in fresh provisions, but, as a rule, the ship was hove-to for the night.

Lillie gave a series of popular lectures on evolution, which aroused the greatest interest fore and aft and did a great deal to break the monotony of the time.

Rennick and Mr. Williams very ingeniously adapted a motor (most generously lent by Mr. Kinsey from a motor-boat) to work the Lucas sounding machine, which quite trebled the ship's sounding efficiency.

Sounding work does not, as a rule, provide exciting incidents, the day when it is undertaken coming under one of two headings—suitable for work or unsuitable. On unsuitable days, if the wind was easterly, nothing could be done except to heave to and drift; if westerly, there was good anchorage inside North Cape (the extreme north-east point of New Zealand), and the whole company were on these occasions very thankful for the quiet days in the ship, in comparison with the tossing about experienced in easterly gales. Mr. Williams was also able to take advantage of these days to clean boiler tubes.

The time away was strictly limited to the period covered by the insurance of the ship, and so, on Bay of Islands, Sept. 24–28, 1911. September 22, she had to leave for Lyttelton. On the way down she called in at Russell, Bay of Islands, to take in fresh provisions and pick up her mail. Three days were spent here waiting for the mail and were much appreciated by everyone, as it is an exceedingly pretty and, historically, very interesting spot. Rennick without delay set about cleaning and painting the ship so that she might be presentable for Lyttelton, though frequent showers of rain did not help him.

Lillie and a companion walked over the peninsula to the tiny little Bay of Wangamumu, where there is a small whaling station belonging to Messrs. Jaggers and Cook. After a delightful walk through the bush, which took some seven or eight hours instead of three or four as expected, they were lucky enough to find Mr. Cook there himself, for he had arrived from the Southern Ocean only a few hours previously, and was preparing to commence whaling round this station.

Lillie was able to make arrangements to stay with them for a month.

On Thursday, the 28th, the Terra Nova weighed and proceeded south, calling at Wangamumu on the way, where Lillie was landed with all his paraphernalia for collecting and preserving specimens.

The ship arrived off Kaikoura at daybreak on the 8th and, being now close to home and with three days' grace, Kaikoura, Oct. 8, 1911. was able to put in two days' sounding on the hundred-fathom line and so to fill up a rather serious blank on the charts. The coast scenery here, on a fine day, is magnificent, as the seaward Kaikoura mountains run close to the coast and there are very many striking snow-capped peaks in the range.

On October 10 the Terra Nova was once more berthed alongside the wharf at Lyttelton. It is only fitting here to acknowledge the real hospitality shown the Expedition by New Zealand. From the Prime Minister downwards all were anxious to help, and the extent of this help received both from individuals and Government departments can only be fully realised by the ship's party, who found all difficulties smoothed away for them as soon as they arose. Dr. John Guthrie, M.D., of Lyttelton, took on the duty of honorary doctor, and Mr. P. Strain, of Christchurch, volunteered as honorary dentist. The services of both gentlemen were frequently and gratefully invoked.

The ship was rather over two months at Lyttelton, and the time was just sufficient. Rennick was able to Lyttelton, Oct. 10–Dec. 15, 1911. finish the chart of the Three Kings and the ship's soundings by working hard at it, although the time was very short for such work.

The mules, given by the Indian Government, had arrived some weeks before the return of the ship and were enjoying themselves in the fields on Quail Island, while the fourteen Siberian dogs from Vladivostok arrived during October. Everything that care and foresight could do for the mules had been done before they left India, and the Expedition owes a deep debt of gratitude to Lieutenant George Pulleyn of the Indian army, in whose care they were, for the trouble taken over them. For some time before leaving India they had been exercised in rocking-boxes to develop the muscles especially brought into use by the motion of a ship; and their equipment, which was sent with them, had been thought out with the greatest care. As we had only seven mules, the stables were built over the forehatch on the foremost side of the ice-house, so that they all were in the open air.

The dogs travelled unattended from Japan, and the officers of the different ships in which the mules and the dogs travelled took every possible pains to keep them in good health, with the most happy results in both cases.

Mr. James Dennistoun joined the Expedition here to take charge of the mules on the way south.

Lillie had a very fairly successful month at Wangamumu, as a good many whales were caught, all Page:Scott's Last Expedition, Volume 2.djvu/557 however, of one species—the Humpback. On his return from there he went off to Mount Potts in the South Island, collecting fossil plants, being fortunate in obtaining some specimens of the early Mesozoic flora.

The programme for the cruise as far as could be foreseen and according to the outline given in Captain Scott's sailing orders to the ship was:

  1. Pick up Campbell and party about January 1 at Cape Adare.
  2. Re-land them in the vicinity of Wood Bay.
  3. Relieve the geological party about January 15 at Granite Harbour.
  4. Land mules, dogs, stores, &c., at Cape Evans.
  5. Lay out various depôts according to the orders to be received at the Hut, in readiness for the next season's work.
  6. Consistently with carrying out the above, to make biological collections, sound, and carry out other scientific work to as large an extent as possible.

Second Voyage

At daybreak on December 15 the ship slipped and proceeded with mules, dogs, and all relief stores on board. Dec. 15, 1911. Leaving Lyttelton. This year was the year of transport workers' strikes at home, and it was only the extreme energy and determination of our manager, Mr. Wyatt, and the great consideration shown by the shipping companies, that enabled the stores to be shipped out in time. Until Christmas Day we had a high barometer and fine weather, with fairly light but continuous southerly winds. This made our progress slow, but the fine weather more than compensated for that.

Rennick sounded twice a day while on the New Zealand continental shelf and once a day afterwards, except for two and a half days round about Christmas, when the weather prevented this work being done.

The motor now worked without a hitch; without it the necessity of crossing the Southern Sea quickly, so as to save the animals, would have allowed very few soundings to be taken. The smooth sea also allowed the mules to be moved in their stalls, so that the stables could be properly cleaned out and thoroughly disinfected.

The Sunday before Christmas, just as we were going to lunch, Nigger, the cat, fell overboard. He had been Dec. 24, 1911, 60° 39′ S., 178° 39′ W. baiting the dogs on the poop, got uncomfortably close to one and, jumping to avoid the dog, went overboard. Fortunately it was an exceptionally calm day; the sea boat was lowered, and Nigger, who swam pluckily, was picked up and the ship on her course again twelve minutes after the accident. He was quite benumbed with the cold, but was taken down to the engine-room and well dried, given a little brandy to drink, and by the evening was all right again.

The first berg was passed on Christmas Day in 61° 31′ S., and the first belt of pack on the 26th in 63° 59′ S. It Dec. 26, 1911, 63° 31′ S., 173° 23′ W. was not, however, till the following evening that the real pack was met, and in the dog watches of the 28th it began to get heavy, eventually holding the ship up at 1 a.m. that night.

After once getting in the pack until they were landed, the mules were exercised at least twice, generally three Dec. 29 and 30, 1911, 66° 46′ S., 177° 48′ W. times, a week. They were walked round and round the main hatch and nearly all of them used to take the opportunity to roll, which they greatly appreciated. With the numerous ring bolts, combing of the main hatch, and other obstructions, there was a certain amount of risk; fortunately there was no accident and the benefit they derived from being moved about justified the risk being taken.

The deck was always well covered with ashes, which were kept for the purpose instead of being thrown overboard when sent up from the boiler-room. Two or three of the mules were inclined to jump about a bit; Lal Khan, in particular, enjoying his outings a little too much, but Bruce always took charge of him and managed to keep him well under control.

Every day after leaving New Zealand the dogs were given a run round the upper deck, and whenever the ship was stopped in the ice they were exercised on a floe, which afforded plenty of excitement to the men as well as to the dogs.

Being held up in the pack always gives a good opportunity for work of different sorts to be done. Lillie has his plankton nets over, trying different depths; Rennick always sounds; and, if the sun comes out, observations for variation are taken with the landing compass on a floe outside the range of disturbance of the ship's iron; and, if a floe with ice that has not been splashed with salt water is near enough, the ship is watered, as there is no knowing when the next opportunity may occur to obtain fresh water.

During the 30th the floes were visibly breaking up, and in the morning watch of the 31st steam was again put on the engines and the ship able to make slow but steady progress.

In the early hours of the New Year the pack was left, Jan. 1, 1912, 68° 44′ S., 178° 55′ E. and no more pack was met till the ship got to within five or six miles of Cape Adare at 9 a.m. on the 3rd.

Here very heavy pack was found and Robertson Bay was full of it, but by waiting for the chance she managed Jan. 3 and 4, 1912. Off Robertson Bay. to get within a mile of the moraine on which the hut is built by 11.30; all inside this was heavy pack swiftly moving with the tidal stream. Nothing could be done, and with the satisfaction of seeing people moving about near the hut, we had to haul off to the centre of the entrance, where there was now a space of clear water. While waiting, Lillie got a satisfactory trawl in fifty fathoms—the first of the season.

At 4 p.m. the water on the north side of the moraine cleared sufficiently to allow of an attempt at landing, and after an hour's pushing through the pack she anchored close in, in seven fathoms.

Rennick and Bruce immediately went on shore with the cutter and whaler, and in spite of a nasty swell which was breaking on the beach were able to embark some of the stores.

In an hour and a half, however, the boats had to return, as the pack was setting towards the ship, and she had to weigh at once; it was not till 1 p.m. the next day that the pack gave signs of easing up again, and the ship took till 4.30 to work her way through and anchor again in the same position. The swell had now died down, and in two and a half hours Campbell and all his party, their collections, and all necessary stores were on board; just in time, for the pack was again setting on the ship.

Robertson Bay is not a nice place from the seaman's point of view. The tidal streams are strong, the pack ice heavy, there are very many grounded bergs about, and gales are frequent and fierce, while the uneven bottom suggests the likelihood of unknown pinnacled rocks. It was with great satisfaction, therefore, that we left the bay with Campbell's party on board in excellent health and spirits.

More pack was found lying off the coast of South Victoria Land and kept the ship well off shore till about Jan. 7, 1912, 75° 15′ S., 168° 37′ E. forty-five miles E.S.E. of the extremity of the Drygalski Barrier, when it became sufficiently loose to let her turn in towards the Drygalski and work through it. With hopes alternately raised and lowered as the pack eased up or became heavier, the ship at last got on the north side of the Barrier and into clear water; and during the first watch of the 8th was secured alongside the sea ice at the entrance to what is now called Arrival Bay, about six miles north of Evans' Coves.

The gear and a month's depôt for Campbell's party were immediately disembarked, and with hands from the ship to haul a depôt sledge, he was left on a moraine about one and a quarter miles from the ship.

The ship slipped immediately her party returned, and meeting a good deal of fog and snow had some difficulty Jan. 10, 1912, 76° 3′ S., 165° 55′ E. in working through the pack on the way out, being eventually held up during the forenoon of the 10th and kept there for thirty-six hours; but in the end she arrived off Beaufort Island during the afternoon of the 12th.

The prospect was not encouraging, as there was nothing but heavy pack in the direction of Granite Harbour Jan. 12, 1912, 76° 42′ S., 167° 12′ E. and across the whole entrance to McMurdo Sound. It was, however, a glorious day, and the opportunity was taken to swing ship for magnetic constants, take observations for variation on the ice, sound, and try to collect plankton. In the Antarctic seas the water is often so full of diatoms that the fine meshes of the plankton nets choke as soon as they are put over. This, by stopping the passage of water through the net, prevents it catching anything and so renders useless many opportunities for collecting that would otherwise be favourable.

Till February 4 nothing could be done. On January 13 fast ice was found to extend as far north as Jan. 13–Feb. 4, 1912. In or near McMurdo Sound. the southern end of Bird Peninsula; and, when it was possible to work through the pack towards Granite Harbour, fast ice was found on the 23rd to extend thirty miles from the head of this inlet.

These three weeks were one long succession of being caught in the pack and struggling to get out again. Whenever there appeared to be any change, the ship would steam over towards Granite Harbour or Cape Evans to look; for often it appeared as if the ice in the strait was really breaking up, but every time in reality it was found that only comparatively little had gone out.

The time, however, was not wasted: whenever in a workable depth, with steam up, Lillie had his trawl out and so got six or seven trawls. Rennick got a number of soundings, though of necessity not in any particular line, and there were several opportunities for swinging ship and observing variation on fast ice, while an interesting series of Giant Petrels was obtained, ranging from white to the comparatively dark varieties.

Mather, who had taken great trouble in New Zealand to perfect his taxidermy, skinned all the ship's specimens.

At last, on February 4, the ship was secured alongside fast ice off Cape Barne. Atkinson came off with a dog team and reported all well, and was shortly followed by Meares and Simpson. They informed us that the ice was bad between the ship and shore, and consequently did not stay long, but took the mails with them when they left.

During the next two days two miles of ice went out Feb. 6–14, 1912. Off Cape Evans. in a gale, and in the first watch of the 6th the ship was at last secured alongside fast ice, with safe ice between her and Cape Evans.

The dogs went ashore at once, the mules were hoisted out early the next morning and soon were safely ashore, after being on board fifty-four days. It says much for Dennistoun's care of them that they landed in such good condition.

Sledging the stores on shore was commenced at once; but it was two and three-quarter miles to Cape Evans (i.e. five and a half miles on the round trip), so that the work was necessarily slow.

The unloading continued steadily till the 14th, with a break in the middle when a gale took another mile of ice out and so made work much quicker; but on the 14th the ice started breaking up and yet did not go out; nothing could be done, and as after a day no change took place the ship crossed over the Sound to Butter Point to see conditions in that direction. There were still nineteen tons of stores, including some coal, to be landed, but all the essentials were ashore.

At Butter Point a note from Taylor (in charge of the geological party) was found, saying that his party had Feb. 15, 1912. McMurdo Sound. camped there and gone on the previous day. Following the coast south, this party was observed on the Blue Glacier, and they were soon on board, all well. It was fortunate that Taylor had realised early the impossibility of the ship reaching Granite Harbour and so had beaten a retreat south over the piedmont. His specimens he had been compelled to leave in a depôt at Granite Harbour.

Shortly after they were picked up it came on to snow and blow. Owing to the weather it was impossible Feb. 19, 1912, 75° 27′ S., 166° 49′ E. to land this party at Cape Evans, so the ship turned north to pick up Campbell's team. Course was shaped direct for the extreme of the Drygalski Barrier, and the ship ran, with considerable pack to the east of her and loose pack in shore, until heavy ice ahead forced her to turn back on her course some twelve miles and then work through the eastern belt of pack.

The following extract is from the ship's journal:

'Following the edge of the pack north, it was seen to be very heavy and the blink gave no sign of open water inside it until the ship was east by north thirty-five miles from the end of the Drygalski, when there was a belt of pack some two miles broad and clear water inside, at any rate for some distance: this belt was entered at 2.30 p.m., and it shows the heaviness of the ice that she was not clear till past 9 o'clock (a speed of a third of a knot), although it was comparatively loose-looking pack.

'The wind was rising as she worked through this strip of pack, and soon after it came on to snow heavily. Nothing could be done but to remain under easy steam, to avoid the floes, if possible, and look out for bergs. Before midnight it was blowing storm force and objects were visible at only a few hundred yards.'

The storm continued for two days, the latter half without snow, when Mount Melbourne showed up in great beauty.

The open water the ship was in was about six miles broad, and though across the pack another lead (or possibly open water) could be seen, five miles or so distant, yet it was absolutely out of her reach.

The wind was steady in direction from the south-west, and the whole pack and ship drifted slowly but surely north until it became imperative to regain the open sea to avoid being caught in the cul-de-sac of Lady Newnes Bay.

Fortunately the retreat was open and the wind fair for taking it, and so on the 21st the ship had regained Feb. 21, 1912, 75° 0′ S., 169° 10′ E. her freedom of action, but was no nearer relieving Campbell. That evening the storm eased down and course was again shaped for the Drygalski Barrier, with the hope that the ice which had previously barred her way might have drifted past the end of the Barrier. The pack (now on the starboard hand) was followed south as closely as possible, though snow often shut in everything to a ship's length and compelled her to stop till it was clear enough again to see where she was going. Gradually she was able to alter more to the west and north of west, until in the middle watch (23rd) she had rounded the southern end of the pack, some 20 miles south of the Drygalski Barrier, and was steering north through light pancake ice with, of course, the heavy pack again to the eastward of her. The pancake ice gradually became heavier, but she was able to make two or three knots at sixty revolutions.

Tempted on by what appeared to be water sky ahead, she rather unexpectedly came to a dead stop about Feb. 23, 1912, 75° 43′ S., 164° 20′ E. 4 a.m. and could not even go astern in her wake, as the pack east of her was pressing in towards the coast and so consolidating the pancake ice she was in. At the same time the weather cleared and showed the extremity of the Drygalski Barrier to be fifteen miles due north. The water sky proved to be a myth.

Page:Scott's Last Expedition, Volume 2.djvu/569 After six hours the pressure eased and the Terra Nova was able to turn, taking, however, four hours' struggle to do so, and it took another twenty-six hours to escape from the ice which, on the day before, she had taken three hours to pass through. The alternative of leaving the ship in the ice and letting her drift with it past the Barrier was too dangerous to be more than thought of and cast aside, owing to the probable severe pressure that would be encountered while passing the Barrier itself.

The ship immediately proceeded to Cape Evans in order to report and to embark those going home, as it was probable that she would have to spend the remainder of her time trying to relieve Campbell.

As far as Cape Bird the ship passed through sea covered with pancake ice, and Ponting was able to get some very interesting photos of it in different stages of growth. Fortunately this ice only reduced her speed by about two knots.

After passing Cape Bird a strong southerly wind sprang up, so that great difficulty was experienced in making Cape Evans; but finally she anchored close in at 2 p.m. on the 25th, all the fast ice having gone out since she was last here. At 11 p.m. the gale lulled Feb. 25, 1912. Cape Evans. for a few minutes and a boat was sent ashore. Simpson at once came off with the news that Lieutenant Evans was at Hut Point and seriously ill, and should be taken off as soon as possible.

The gale came on again at once, and it was not till the first watch on the 28th that the ship could secure Feb. 28. Off Castle Rock. alongside the fast ice about ½ mile north of Hut Point and Atkinson and his party were able to bring Evans on board. The opportunity was taken to land two sledge loads of stores that would be useful at Discovery hut.

The ship at once proceeded to Cape Evans, and by everyone on shore and aboard lending a willing hand the remainder of the stores (about nineteen tons) was landed in the boats between 2 a.m. and 7.30 a.m., in a perfect calm and beautiful weather.

As soon as the last boat came off, the ship left for Terra Nova Bay again. It was essential that Lieutenant Feb. 29, 1912, 77° 7′ S., 166° 25′ E. Evans should have a doctor with him for a few days more and so Atkinson had to go in her, though it was quite likely that she might not be able to re-enter the Sound.

Conditions off Terra Nova Bay had not improved, and the ship ran up and down outside the heavier pack March 1 and 2. Off Terra Nova Bay. trying it in places wherever a sign of weakness showed; but with always the same result, that after entering two or three miles through pack which gradually grew heavier she would be brought up. Once, indeed, she managed to work through to a position north-east seven miles from the end of the Drygalski Barrier, but even here she was 35 miles from her destination, and this was the last flicker of reasonable hope.

The following extract is from the ship's log:

'All day on outskirts of ice filling Terra Nova Bay Page:Scott's Last Expedition, Volume 2.djvu/575 and extending fifteen to twenty miles eastward from the extremity of the Drygalski Barrier. On the outskirts thin pancake and small, but very heavy, bay ice floes; the heavy floes becoming more numerous and the new ice heavier the farther the pack is entered, till heavy pack with interspaces all filled with snow slush forms an impenetrable barrier; in places this year's pancake, consolidated and up to one foot thick, in thick slush, forms equally impenetrable barrier owing to its viscous nature.'

In the forenoon of the 3rd the ship was again headed for Cape Evans. From several miles north of Beaufort March 3, 1912, 76° 2′ S., 167° 26′ E. Island to nearly Cape Royds the ship was passing through pancake ice, refrozen into large solid sheets of very varying heaviness but often sufficient to reduce her speed fifty per cent. The wait at Cape Evans was very short; she was only delayed an hour embarking those members going home who had not been able to get on board before, together with Keohane, and then proceeded to Hut Point, where the ice had now broken away to within a quarter of a mile of the hut.

Atkinson and Keohane were landed and a few stores March 4, 1912. Off Hut Point. taken to the hut. The ship then ran for the Glacier Tongue to complete with water, and shortly after 10 p.m. (the 4th) proceeded again for Terra Nova Bay.

Although only twenty hours had elapsed between the time she passed Cape Royds going south, and repassed it going north, the ice had materially thickened, and between Cape Bird and Beaufort Island she forced through with considerable difficulty. The condition off Terra Nova Bay had, if anything, grown worse, and this time the ship was held up when 20 miles E.N.E. of the Barrier.

Finally, on March 7, taking into consideration the March 7, 1912, 75° 5′ S., 168° 43′ E. nature and extent of the pack and the time of the year, the conclusion was reluctantly come to that the ship could not reach Arrival Bay that season, and so she turned north.

The next day a sooty albatross was around the ship—a March 8, 73° 32′ S., 174° 12′ E. most welcome sight, proving the absence of pack to north of her; and from now on large numbers of deep sea birds were always round the ship.

On the 15th and 16th the Terra Nova passed up the north-east side of the Balleny Islands, closer than any March 16, 1912, 66° 44′ S., 164° 48′ E. other ship had been able to get, except Balleny himself; but either it was foggy or else it snowed so persistently, that nothing was seen of them except on the 16th, when the fog suddenly rolled away for two hours and, through a rift in the clouds, a glimpse of Buckle Island was obtained—part of the side of a snow-capped mountain with the sun on it, a rarely beautiful sight, appearing to be quite detached from anything to do with the earth herself. Before this one of the beautiful little snowy petrels had appeared, telling of ice in the vicinity, so the course was altered more to the northward and, when the fog lifted, icebergs and smaller bits of ice were seen on the port hand. It is seldom these little birds are found away from the close vicinity of ice.

Fires were put out on the 18th, a good offing having been made, the position being 64° S., 160° 12′ E.

Between the 21st and the 25th it blew hard, the climax being reached on Sunday night (the 24th), when March 24, 1912, 55° 51′ S., 165° 49′ E. a severe storm was raging, the most severe encountered by the ship during her whole commission. It is a wonderful sight to see a comparatively small ship in a storm, particularly at night; the marvellous way she rides over waves that look as if they must break on board, together with the dense darkness in the heavy squalls, relieved only by the white crests of the waves as they break, is a sight that makes up for a considerable amount of discomfort.

The gale was followed by two days' calm, when Ponting was able to cinematograph the birds feeding March 26 and 27, 52° 20′ S., 167° 33′ E. close under the ship's stern.

When off the coast of New Zealand a school of sperm whales was seen and followed for some time with the hopes of getting a photograph. The animals, however, were too shy for the ship to approach within reasonable photographic range.

At daybreak on April 1 the ship entered Akaroa harbour to despatch the telegrams with the season's April 1. Akaroa. news. Here we learned of Amundsen's success in his undertaking.

On the 3rd she was berthed alongside the wharf in Lyttelton again, and, needless to say, received with true New Zealand hospitality. The season had in many ways been a hard one for the engine-room department, but they never failed the ship in any of the difficulties in which she found herself, and, although conditions were often disheartening, the hands kept as willing and cheerful as if everything was going well.

Lieutenant Evans and Drake went home on Expedition business, the members of the shore party who had returned dispersed to their respective duties in civil life, and the men who had joined in New Zealand signed off temporarily for the winter.

Refitting and laying up the ship was hurried on as rapidly as possible and, by the help of the New Zealand Government, arrangements were made for the ship's party to survey Admiralty Bay in the Sounds.

The party were boarded at an accommodation house near French Pass and worked from motor launches, these latter being fitted with the ship's Lucas sounding machines.

The party consisted of thirteen, including officers, and three hands remained in the ship at Lyttelton as ship-keepers.

This work lasted from June 10 to October 15, when it was necessary to return to Lyttelton to prepare for the coming relief voyage.

On the whole for that part of New Zealand the weather this winter was unfavourable, but, in spite of this, a satisfactory amount of work was carried out.

On August 17 we had the great misfortune to lose Brissenden by drowning. He was buried on the hillside overlooking the bay, and a marble cross erected to his memory. Robert Brissenden was a first-class man, careful and reliable, besides being a very good messmate, and his loss was very much felt by all.

The Third Voyage

The ship left Lyttelton at 5 a.m. on December 14, Dec. 14, 1912. Lyttelton. 1912. A crowd of friends had collected to bid us farewell and send last messages to our companions in Victoria Land.

At 7 p.m. that evening we discovered a wretched man stowed away in the lifeboat. On being questioned the stowaway said he was a rabbiter and anxious to make a voyage in the Terra Nova: he appeared to be about thirty-five years of age and not very intelligent. As there was no object in taking this man south we shaped course for the nearest port, Akaroa, in order to land him. Fortunately, the Norwegian barque Triton was sighted at midnight, and her courteous captain relieved us of our stowaway, promising to land him in Dunedin.

The programme for the third southward voyage included the running of a line of soundings from Banks Peninsula to a point in Lat. 60° S., Long. 170° W. Thence the ship was to proceed due south until the pack was reached, sounding twice daily. After entering the pack she was to continue to force her way southward, keeping approximately on the meridian of 165° W., to sound over the less known portions of the Ross Sea, and to determine the nature and extent of the pack ice in this unexplored region.

The earlier southern voyages had mostly been made in more westerly longitudes.

In conjunction with the ambitious deep-sea-sounding programme Lillie was to make a number of quantitative plankton stations, and obtain trawls whenever the occasion was suitable. We also hoped to add materially to our magnetic observations for Variation, Dip, and Total Force.

The programme was fairly well adhered to, and thanks to Rennick's expert handling of the Lucas machine we obtained several soundings of about 3000 fathoms, when less ardent hydrographers would have surrendered to the bad weather.

On December 17 the Antipodes Islands were passed, the ship labouring in the heavy sea and occasionally rolling Dec. 17, 1912, 49° 12′ S., 178° 14′ E. her bulwarks under; it was not considered advisable to attempt a landing. These islands are visited twice a year by a Government steamer, and have been examined pretty thoroughly, although rather sketchily surveyed.

On this voyage the ship was infested with rats, but Cheetham, our boatswain, who has crossed the Antarctic Circle fourteen times, showed himself an adept at rat-catching and soon freed the ship from the pest. He used to throw the rats over the side, and the albatrosses and mollymawks would swoop down and devour the vermin in an incredibly short time. We had all kinds of rat-traps in use, and even used mouse-traps to catch the young.

On December 26, in Lat. 63° S., we passed the first iceberg of the voyage, an old disrupted berg, and as we Dec. 26, 63° 43′ S., 166° 36′ W. advanced southward all kinds of icebergs were to be seen. The ice-log shows a greater number and variety of bergs on this than on the two preceding voyages.

Dec. 29, 1912, 69° 28′ S., 166° 15′ W. The great belt of Antarctic pack ice was not reached until December 29, when we had attained the 69th parallel.

On comparison with the records of earlier voyages it will be seen that the northern limit of the pack this year lay two degrees farther south than found on voyages made in more western longitudes.

The only other Expedition that has explored this part of the Ross Sea was that under Sir James Ross, who found a line of compact hummocky ice in the same position in 1842; this confirmation throws some light on the trend of the pack in this quadrant.

We had expected to meet with pack ice on crossing the Antarctic Circle, and our expectations not being realised, the ship's company looked forward to an almost ice-free voyage to the Ross Sea.

Our hopes were frustrated. The day after entering the pack we encountered heavy bay ice, which retarded us to such an extent that we could scarcely make more than one mile an hour on our course. We had a tremendous struggle this season to get into the Ross Sea at all, and not until we had fought our way for over 400 miles did we really get through the pack.

The weather conditions this season were all that we could wish for, and we had plenty of time at our disposal to carry out our scientific programme. When our way was barred by temporary congestion of the pack Pennell, Rennick, and Lillie would all get ahead with magnetic, deep-sea sounding, and biological work, mostly under favourable conditions.

Occasionally the sea was so discoloured by diatoms that we might have been steaming in the Thames estuary, and then again the discoloured area would be succeeded by belts of beautiful blue water wherein one could see crab-eater seals diving under the ship.

Quite the most fascinating sight in the pack ice was the exhibition of swimming by two crab-eaters in the open water leads on New Year's Day. They followed the ship and disported themselves like dolphins; when we were forced to stop owing to the closeness of the pack the two seals rubbed themselves along the side of the ship.

We were disappointed at seeing no Ross seals this year, for we have secured no specimens of this animal at all.

Jan. 5, 1913, 71° 48′ S., 166° 48′ W. By January 5 we had worked through 168 miles of pack, averaging only 24 miles a day, and burning over seven tons of coal for each daily run.

Now we were confronted by small belts of ice composed of floes 15 to 20 feet thick and 100 feet in diameter. This ice was so hard that the ship could not break it. Whenever we collided with a floe the Terra Nova shook fore and aft, the officer in the crow's nest experiencing the most violent concussions.

On this day a penguin chased us for over an hour, crying out ludicrously whenever one of us imitated its call. The little creature became quite exhausted, as we were steaming through lighter ice at the time and it had to swim steadily after us. The poor bird was unable to reach the ship, as the 'kick' of the propeller swirled it away whenever it caught us up. As often as this happened the penguin would struggle on to a floe and reel about like a drunken man, until finally it lay still, thoroughly defeated.

We were completely beset with ice on January 6 Jan. 6 and 7, 1913, 71° 40′ S., 166° 47′ W. and 7, and the officers spent their time working for Lillie, obtaining plankton and water-bottle samples at many different depths.

Lillie put out his twenty-four mesh net at 1000 metres, and obtained a lot of specimens, including a fine jelly-fish.

On January 8, the ice opening up, we proceeded slowly on our way. We passed close alongside a low hummocky Jan. 8, 1913, 71° 41′ S., 167° 4′ W. iceberg which had three Emperor penguins on it. They must have been there some weeks, as the surface of the berg was much soiled and the snow trodden about over a great area. The iceberg was too high for the birds to have regained had they once left it. Two of the Emperors were very thin; the third, an enormous bird, was moulting and one could not make out what sort of condition he was in.

Until January 14 progress was painfully slow, but on this day the ship worked through into looser ice. The pack was eventually cleared on January 16 in Lat. 74° 50′ S., Long. 177° 15′ E.

The night of January 17–18 was very still and a belt of stratus cloud settled down, forming a thick fog; the ship nevertheless was worked through small ice belts and she rounded Cape Bird on the morning of the 18th. About breakfast time the sun dispersed the mist and shone brightly. The now familiar features of McMurdo Strait were clearly outlined to the southward, and our stout little ship steamed at full speed past Cape Royds towards our winter quarters.

We had spent the last twenty-four hours in 'squaring up' and preparing our comfortable, if somewhat limited, accommodation for the reception of our comrades at Cape Evans. The mails were all sorted and each member's letters done up in pillow-slips with his name boldly printed thereon. We had only one piece of bad news, the death of poor Brissenden, for all the wives and relations were well, and eagerly looking forward to the return of the Expedition. Every telescope and binocular in the ship was levelled on the hut as Cape Evans opened out from behind the Cape Barne Glacier. The bay was free of ice and one or two figures were discernible outside the hut.

The ship rapidly closed the beach, and by the sudden lively movements of those ashore we knew that the Terra Nova had been perceived.

As we stopped engines a crowd collected before the hut and we could count nineteen men—it was an exciting moment.

The shore party gave three hearty cheers, to which the ship's company replied. The Commanding Officer, espying Campbell, shouted through a megaphone, 'Are you all well, Campbell?' At this our friends on shore became speechless, and after a very marked hush, which quite damped our spirits, Campbell replied: 'The Southern Party reached the Pole on January 18 last year, but were all lost on the return journey—we have their records.'

The anchor was dropped; Campbell and Atkinson immediately came off and told us in detail how misfortune after misfortune had befallen our gallant leader and his four brave comrades. We listened sadly to the story, and our feelings were too deep to be described. We had actually prepared the cabins for the reception of our lost companions, and it was with infinite sadness that the beds were unmade, the flags hauled down from our mastheads, and those undelivered letters sealed up for return to the wives and mothers who had given up so much in order that their men might achieve.

But however great our sorrow we had the consolation of pride in the magnificent spirit shown by the Polar Party. The manner in which these men died is in itself an eloquent description of their characters as we knew them. The absolute generosity of Captain Scott himself runs through his dying appeal to the nation and those letters of his with no word of blame or reflection on others for the disaster, though he could not know that scurvy had smitten the last supporting party, and that those who would have come were fettered by illness and the weather conditions that finally arrested the advance of the dog teams.

It was characteristic also that he did not forget the future of his Expedition, but left instructions and letters to the end that the scientific results should be fitly published.

The two devoted men who died side by side with Captain Scott were fine British types. Wilson was a wonderful fellow, whose magnificent judgment helped us all to smooth over the little troubles which were bound to arise from time to time, and who (it has been said before and let it be said again) by his own example and the influence of his personality was mainly responsible for the fact that there never was a quarrel or an angry word in the Expedition.

Bowers possessed an individuality that attracted his companions enormously. He was, besides being a very quick, clever worker, a humourist of the most pleasing type. He bore hardship splendidly and stood the cold probably better than anyone in the Expedition.

The conspicuous bravery of Oates was typical of the man. 'The Soldier' was really loved by the men. He had a dry wit that always left him uppermost in those exciting arguments that did so much to cheer us during the winter season. Patrick Keohane, a splendid Irish seaman, remarked to us as the details of the story were unfolded: 'Captain Oates did just what we all expected of him, sir; he was a fine man that, sir; not much talk about him, but chock full of grit.'

The fifth man of the Southern Party was a British bluejacket of the finest type, who had made himself invaluable. Edgar Evans was the sledge-master, and to him we owed the splendid fitting of our travelling equipment. He left a fine record of service, and his example will do a great deal for the younger seamen of the Royal Navy.

The Terra Nova remained at anchor off Cape Evans for thirty hours, and those on board did their best to help the Cape Evans party to settle down for the homeward voyage.

We heard that the shore party had that day (Jan. 18) commenced the work of preparation for a third winter; they were delighted to see us. A typical extract from the diary of a member may be quoted:

'Jan. 18.

Terra Nova in sight
Hurrah! Hurrah!
Great Joy——
Hurrah!

We are relieved, and God be thanked for that Teddy[1] is on board the Terra Nova. Everything all right there.'

Immediately greetings had been exchanged and the situation thoroughly grasped, all hands packed and transported the specimens, collections, and equipment to the ship. We worked all night, and in twenty-four hours had removed our effects to the Terra Nova, and closed the hut after clearing it up and making a list of provisions and equipment.

We have left at Cape Evans an outfit and stores that would see a dozen resourceful men through one summer and winter at least.

On Sunday, January 19, at 5.20 p.m., the Expedition finally left Cape Evans and proceeded in the Terra Nova to Cape Royds, where a depôt of specimens left by Priestley's party on the Erebus journey was embarked.

We then steamed up the Sound towards Hut Point until brought up by the fast ice which still stretched out for nearly ten miles from the southern shores of McMurdo Sound.

Early on January 20 Atkinson set out with a party of seven to erect a cross in memory of our lost companions. It had been constructed by Davies of jarrah, an Australian wood.

This cross, 9 feet in height, now stands on the summit of Observation Hill, overlooking the Great Ice Barrier and in full view of the Discovery winter quarters.

in
memoriam

Capt. R. F. Scott, R.N.
Dr. E. A. Wilson, Capt. L. E. G. Oates, Ins. Drgs., Lt. H. R. Bowers, R.I.M.
Petty Officer E. Evans, R.N.

who died on their
return from the
pole. march
1912
to strive, to seek,
to find,
and not to
yield

The line chosen from Tennyson's 'Ulysses' was suggested by Cherry-Garrard. Atkinson's sledge team consisted of those who had taken part in the search for Captain Scott.

Page:Scott's Last Expedition, Volume 2.djvu/591 They took two days to convey the heavy wooden cross to the top of Observation Hill and erect it. It was well secured, and will remain in position for an indefinite time, as there is no dampness likely to cause rot in this high latitude.

During Atkinson's absence the ship's officers were employed surveying and carrying out magnetic work; the engineers took this opportunity of letting fires out and cleaning the boiler. Atkinson returned on the night of January 21, having put Hut Point in order and closed the old Discovery hut, which, like our own winter quarters, we have left well stocked with provisions and what equipment we could spare.

During the night of the 19th a large iceberg swept into McMurdo Sound and was carried by the current directly for us. Having no steam we had to set sail and stand away to the northward from the sea ice to which we were made fast. We had some excitement, as the wind was very light; the sails were just full enough to give us steerage way, and the great tabular iceberg drifted close across our stern.

The ship now proceeded towards Granite Harbour. Steam was ready by 5 a.m. on the morning of the 22nd, and encountering detached belts of ice we furled sail and worked close to the coast of Victoria Land.

At 2 p.m. the Terra Nova rounded Cape Roberts and secured to the fast ice off Granite Harbour.

Gran in charge of a party of six men went in to bring off a geological depôt left by Taylor and Debenham. It was a hard journey, 17 miles there and back. A big open lead had to be crossed en route, and Gran's men negotiated this by converting their sledge into a 'kayak,' using a canvas cover which made quite a good boat out of the sledge. On their way home to the ship they had the fortune to get on to a loose ice floe with their two sledges. Ferrying in this fashion much time was saved, and the party returned hungry and tired but successful at 3 a.m. on January 23.

During the absence of this party some surveying work was accomplished, and the astronomical observations taken by the navigating officers in conjunction linked on the work of Griffith Taylor and Debenham to the main survey. Off shore soundings were obtained by Rennick with a view to throwing light on the neighbouring glacier movements. Pennell carried out magnetic observations, Lillie trawled with the Agassiz and obtained a fine haul, which included enormous sponges. In short, the usual beehive industry in the scientific work was maintained.

At 3.30 a.m. the sledge gear was brought on board by Gran's party; they had secured all Taylor's and Debenham's beautiful geological collections, consisting largely of fossils and coral. These specimens had been left here a whole year ago.

This accomplished, we hauled in our ice anchors and proceeded under steam as requisite for working through the pack which barred our way to the Drygalski Barrier.

At 11.30 a.m. the ice became so heavy that we were forced to turn round and return towards Granite Harbour.

All day we worked to clear out of the pack and made only fair progress, the floes being so big that our weight Page:Scott's Last Expedition, Volume 2.djvu/595 would not move them. The outlook was brighter at midnight, when we were doing 5 knots to the north-eastward, the ice-fields being less compressed. The punching and butting through continued with varying success till 9 p.m. on January 24, when the Commander concluded that it was a waste of coal and unfair to the ship to proceed. We stopped, therefore, and banked fires.

After a delay of seven or eight hours Bruce reported the ice to be opening tremendously, and we accordingly proceeded on January 25, as soon as steam was ready. Very gradually the old ship worked towards Terra Nova Bay. Shortly after noon we won through into a very big open lead and could make five knots on our course. We stopped to sound at 8 a.m. and noon, the soundings showing 437, 625, and 515 fathoms. These soundings show a 'deep' which I believe Professor David rather suspected. They were really taken for his benefit.

By 3 a.m. on January 25 we had worked the ship through the ice near Campbell's winter quarters and secured to the sea ice which extended a quarter of a mile out from the piedmont. This was particularly solid and slippery, being quite free from snow. Although so close to the shore we found the depth 198 fathoms.

We sent a party away under Priestley to pick up the depôt of geological specimens; the remainder of the Expedition visited the igloo where Campbell and his party spent the previous winter.

The visit to the igloo revealed in itself a story of hardship that brought home to us what Campbell never would have told. There was only one place in this smoke-begrimed cavern where a short man could stand upright. In odd corners were discarded clothes saturated with blubber and absolutely black. The weight of these garments was extraordinary, and we experienced strange sensations as we examined the cheerless hole that had been the only home of six of our hardiest men. No cell prisoners ever lived through such discomfort. Most of the Terra Nova's crew secured mementoes of their visit to this unparalleled habitation.

We left a depôt of provisions at the head of the Bay, its position being marked by a bamboo and flag. This depôt contains enough food stuffs to enable a party of five or six men to make their way to Butter Point, where another large depôt exists.

Very early on January 26 we left these inhospitable shores, and steaming E.N.E. to get clear of the ice belts which stream up the coast, we virtually gained the open Ross Sea by the evening, on the return voyage to New Zealand.

An attempt was made to close the Balleny Islands, which do not all appear to be correctly charted, but thick weather and adverse ice conditions prevented our accomplishing this.

The Terra Nova stood well to the westward, as shown in the accompanying track chart, until she was in a good position for making New Zealand.

It is interesting to note that in latitude 64° 15′ S., longitude 159° 15′ E. the Terra Nova passed close to an iceberg twenty-one geographical miles in length.

On February 2, in latitude 62° 10′ S., longitude 158° 15′ E., during thick weather, the ship was beset with icebergs and at slow speed steamed for six miles along the face of one huge berg. She was in a narrow channel out of which she could not work owing to the close grouping of detached icebergs which lay on the other hand.

This last season the ice conditions appeared to be the worst on record as far as the exterior ice was concerned, but close to Victoria Land we were never seriously hampered.

The biological, magnetic, and hydrographical work was continued on our homeward voyage, and on February 10, at 3 a.m., the ship reached Oamaru, a small port on the east coast of South Island, New Zealand. Here Lieutenant Pennell and Dr. Atkinson were landed with the Commander's despatch, which was sent to the Central News for simultaneous distribution throughout the world.

The Terra Nova remained at sea until Wednesday, February 12, when she returned to Lyttelton.

Her entry into the harbour was very different from the happy return we had so looked forward to.

With flags at half-mast we steamed into the port and were berthed alongside the Harbour Board shed by Captain Thorpe, the harbour-master. Thousands came to meet us and quietly notified their sympathy, and for many days afterwards we received messages of condolence from all parts of the world.

The Voyage Home

The ship sailed from Lyttelton on her homeward voyage on March 13, 1913, under the command of Lieutenant Pennell. In the ward room, besides the Captain, were Rennick, Nelson, Lillie, Levick, Anderson, Mr. Williams, and Mr. Cheetham. When Bruce went home by mail steamer with Lady Scott, Nelson volunteered for the position of second mate, and proved himself a most efficient officer. Mr. Gibson Anderson of Christchurch volunteered for the voyage, and was taken on for coal trimming.

The ship had thirteen dogs on board, going home as pets of various members. Davies built platforms for the dogs; these stood about ten inches off the deck and had a ledge three or four inches high, so that in wet weather the animals would be off the decks and in hot weather have air circulating under them, while, when the ship was rolling, they had the ledges to support themselves against. These platforms were a great comfort to them.

It was intended to run down the Great Circle track to 56° South and then east along that parallel. The ship made a good run down to 56° South, but then met easterly winds, fortunately, however, being able to March 23, 1913, 56° 2′ S., 156° 25′ W. pass about fifteen miles north of where the Nimrod group is charted (from information received nearly a hundred years ago), and got two soundings, both over 2000 fathoms. Captain Davis in the Nimrod on her way home in 1909 passed right over the charted position, but weather prevented them sounding. Either this group is charted a great deal out of position, or, what is more likely, does not exist at all.

North-east winds continuing, the ship was driven a good deal farther south than was intended and met with March 27, 1913, 58° 51′ S., 142° 29′ W. a considerable amount of fog and thick weather.

On the 27th she passed three bergs, and another one on the 29th, but the weather all these days was so thick that ice could only be seen at a very short distance. On the 29th, however, she was able to alter to the north-east and soon to leave these March 29, 1913, 58° 39′ S., 134° 54′ W. rather uncomfortable latitudes.

There was a marked dearth of birds all across the Southern Ocean, great grey shearwaters and the little black-bellied petrels being the most common, while the mollymawks and sooty albatross were only occasional visitors.

Cape Horn was passed on April 11, in a strong gale; but as the ship entered the Straits Le Maire at daybreak the next morning the wind dropped and the sun rose over Staten Island, ushering in a beautiful day; and from here, with very little exception, fine weather was experienced all the way to England.

While crossing the shelf on which the Falkland Islands stand, Lillie was able to trawl, and once again after leaving Rio de Janeiro, for the last time on the commission, the catch in this case being almost entirely composed of swimming crabs.

Trawling probably caused more excitement and interest in the ship than anything else she did, and the instant a catch came in-board Lillie was surrounded by an interested group of men, very anxious to see if any startling novelty had at last been dragged up from the bottom.

Across the Atlantic the plankton nets were put over, when possible, for half an hour every night, and a good series of catches was made; the middle watch was chosen, as experience had shown the practical impossibility of entirely preventing garbage, ashes, &c., from being thrown overboard during the day, and the nets faithfully collected everything that went over. At night, however, after washing down the shoots and the ship's side where ashes had been thrown over, the haul was made and the net brought in absolutely clean.

Rio was reached on April 28, and the ship stopped here four days, coaling, taking in fresh provisions, and giving leave.

While crossing the Tropics the dog watches were taken in the stoke-hold by the after-guard. This gave each fireman a sixteen hours' spell free of watch two days out of every three: a great boon when the conditions are trying, as they undoubtedly are, in the engine-room and stokehold in the Tropics.

The ship called at Fayal in the Azores, in order to cable home, and anchored off Horta on June 2. She was placed in quarantine, much to our chagrin, though facilities were allowed for sending cables and getting provisions.

At last, on June 11, the ship dropped anchor in Crow Sound, Scilly Islands, where two days were spent painting Page:Scott's Last Expedition, Volume 2.djvu/603 and cleaning up, and on June 14 she arrived at Cardiff, exactly three years after leaving.

Here it only remains to acknowledge the exemplary conduct of the ship's company, fore and aft. Every member worked to help the Expedition forward loyally and cheerfully, accepting each position as it came, all hands doing their best to help matters forward and to see the humorous side of everything.

  1. 'Teddy' refers to Lieut. Evans, who was not expected to live after his bad attack of scurvy.