South (48 page)

The record of the early months of the
Aurora
’s long drift in the Ross Sea is not eventful. The galley condenser was rigged, but the supply of fresh water remained a problem. The men collected fresh-fallen snow when possible and hoped to get within reach of fresh ice. Hooke and Ninnis worked hard at the wireless plant with the object of getting into touch with Macquarie Island, and possibly sending news of the ship’s movements to Cape Evans. They got the wireless motor running and made many adjustments of the instruments and aerials, but their efforts were not successful. Emperor penguins approached the ship occasionally, and the birds were captured whenever possible for the fresh meat they afforded. The
Aurora
was quite helpless in the grip of the ice, and after the engine room bilges had been thawed and pumped out the boilers were blown down. The pressure had been raised to sixty pounds, but there was no chance of moving the ship, and the supply of coal was limited. The story of the
Aurora
’s drift during long months can be told briefly by means of extracts from Stenhouse’s log:

“
May
21.—Early this morning there appeared to be movements in the ice. The grating and grinding noise makes one feel the unimportance of man in circumstances like ours. Twilight towards noon showed several narrow, open leads about two cables from ship and in all directions. Unable to get bearing, but imagine that there is little or no alteration in ship’s position, as ship’s head is same, and Western Mountains appear the same. . . . Hope all is well at Cape Evans and that the other parties have returned safely. Wish we could relieve their anxiety.

“
May
22.—Obtained good bearings of Beaufort Island, Cape Ross, and Dunlop Island, which put the ship in a position eighteen miles south 75º east (true) from Cape Ross. Since the 14th, when reliable bearings were last obtained, we have drifted northwest by north seven miles.

“
May
24.—Blizzard from south-southeast continued until 9 P.M., when it moderated, and at 11:45 P.M. wind shifted to northwest, light, with snow. Quite a lot of havoc has been caused during this blow, and the ship has made much northing. In the morning the crack south of the ship opened to about three feet. At 2 P.M. felt heavy shock and the ship heeled to port about 70º. Found ice had cracked from port gangway to northwest, and parted from ship from gangway along to stern. Crack extended from stern to southeast. 7:35 P.M.—Ice cracked from port fore chains, in line parallel to previous crack. The ice broke again between the cracks and drifted to northwest for about ten yards. The ice to southward then commenced to break up, causing heavy strain on ship, and setting apparently north in large broken fields. Ship badly jammed in. 9:15 P.M.—Ice closed in again around ship. Two heavy wind squalls with a short interval between followed by cessation of wind. We are in a labyrinth of large rectangular floes (some with their points pressing heavily against ship) and high-pressure ridges.

“
May
25.—In middle watch felt pressure occasionally. Twilight showed a scene of chaos all around; one floe about three feet in thickness had upended, driven under ship on port quarter. As far as can be seen there are heavy blocks of ice screwed up on end, and the scene is like a graveyard. I think swell must have come up under ice from seaward (northeast), McMurdo Sound, and broken the ice, which afterwards started to move under the influence of the blizzard. Hardly think swell came from the Sound, as the cracks were wending from northwest to southeast, and also as the Sound should be getting icebound by now. If swell came from northeast then there is open water not far away. I should like to know. I believe the Ross Sea is rarely entirely ice-covered. Have bright moonlight now, which accentuates everything—the beauty and loneliness of our surroundings, and uselessness of ourselves, while in this prison: so near to Cape Evans and yet we might as well be anywhere as here. Have made our sledging-ration scales, and crew are busy making harness and getting sledging equipment ready for emergencies. Temperature—30º Fahr.

“
May
26.—If the ship is nipped in the ice, the ship’s company (eighteen hands) will take to four sledges with one month’s rations and make for nearest land. Six men and one sledge will endeavor to make Cape Evans via the western land, Butler Point, Hut Point, etc. The remaining twelve will come along with all possible speed, but no forced marches, killing and depoting penguins and seals for emergency retreats. If the ship remains here and makes no further drift to the north, towards latter end of July light will be making. The sun returns August 23. The sea ice should be fairly safe, and a party of three, with one month’s rations, will proceed to Cape Evans. If the ice sets north and takes the ship clear of land, we will proceed to New Zealand, bunker, get extra officer and four volunteers, provisions, etc., push south with all speed to the Barrier, put party on to the Barrier, about two miles east of Cape Crozier, and land all necessary stores and requirements. The ship will stand off until able to reach Cape Evans. If necessary, party will depot all stores possible at Corner Camp and go on to Cape Evans. If worst has happened my party will lay out the depot at the Beardmore for Shackleton. If the ship is released from the ice after September we must endeavor to reach Cape Evans before going north to bunker. We have not enough coal to hang about the Sound for many days.

“
May
28.—By the position obtained by meridian altitude of stars and bearing of Mount Melbourne, we have drifted thirty-six miles northeast from last bearings taken on 23rd inst. The most of this must have been during the blizzard of the 24th. Mount Melbourne is one hundred and eleven miles due north of us, and there is some doubt in my mind as to whether the peak which we can see is this mountain. There may be a mirage. . . . In the evening had the soccer out on the ice by the light of a beautiful moon. The exercise and break from routine are a splendid tonic. Ice noises sent all hands on board.

“
June
1.—Thick, hazy weather. In the afternoon a black streak appeared in the ice about a cable’s length to the westward and stretching north and south. 8 P.M.—The black line widened and showed long lane of open water. Apparently we are fast in a floe which has broken from the main field. With thick weather we are uncertain of our position and drift. It will be interesting to find out what this crack in the ice signifies. I am convinced that there is open water, not far distant, in the Ross Sea. . . . Tonight Hooke is trying to call up Cape Evans. If the people at the hut have rigged the set which was left there, they will hear ‘All well’ from the
Aurora.
I hope they have. [The messages were not received.]

“
June
8.—Made our latitude 75º 59’ S. by altitude of Sirius. This is a very monotonous life, but all hands appear to be happy and contented. Find that we are not too well off for meals and will have to cut rations a little. Grady is taking exercise now and should soon be well again. He seems very anxious to get to work again, and is a good man. No wireless calls tonight, as there is a temporary breakdown—condenser jar broken. There is a very faint display of aurora in northern sky. It comes and goes almost imperceptibly, a most fascinating sight. The temperature is -20º Fahr.; 52º of frost is much too cold to allow one to stand for long.

“
June
11.—Walked over to a very high pressure ridge about a quarter of a mile north-northwest of the ship. In the dim light walking over the ice is far from being monotonous, as it is almost impossible to see obstacles, such as small, snowed-up ridges, which makes us wary and cautious. A dip in the sea would be the grand finale, but there is little risk of this as the water freezes as soon as a lane opens in the ice. The pressure ridge is about fifteen to twenty feet high for several hundred feet, and the ice all about it is bent up in a most extraordinary manner. At 9 P.M. Hooke called Cape Evans, ‘All well—
Aurora,
’ etc.; 10 P.M., weather reports for 8 P.M. sent to Wellington, New Zealand, and Melbourne, via Macquarie Island. [The dispatch of messages from the
Aurora
was continued, but it was learned afterwards that none of them had been received by any station.]

“
June
13.—The temperature in the chartroom ranges from zero to a little above freezing point. This is a very disturbing factor in rates of the chronometers (five in number, 3 G.M.T. and 2 Sid. T.), which are kept in cases in a padded box, each case covered by a piece of blanket, and the box covered by a heavy coat. In any enclosed place where people pass their time, the niches and places where no heat penetrates are covered with frozen breath. There will be a big thaw out when the temperature rises.

“
June
14.—Mount Melbourne is bearing north 14º west (true). Our approximate position is forty miles east-northeast of Nordenskjöld Ice Tongue. At 9 P.M. Hooke called Cape Evans and sent weather reports to Wellington and Melbourne via Macquarie Island. Hooke and Ninnis on several evenings at about 11 o’clock have heard what happened to be faint messages, but unreadable. He sent word to Macquarie Island of this in hopes that they would hear and increase the power.

“
June
20.—During this last blow with its accompanying drift snow there has been much leakage of current from the aerial during the sending of reports. This is apparently due to induction caused by the snow accumulating on the insulators aloft, and thus rendering them useless, and probably to increased inductive force of the current in a body of snow drift. Hooke appears to be somewhat downhearted over it, and, after discussing the matter, gave me a written report on the non-success (up to the present time) of his endeavors to establish communication. He thinks that the proximity of the Magnetic Pole and Aurora Australis might affect things. The radiation is good and sufficient for normal conditions. His suggestion to lead the down lead wires out to the ahead and astern would increase scope, but I cannot countenance it owing to unsettled state of ice and our too lofty poles.

“
June
21.—Blowing gale from southwest throughout day, but for short spell of westerly breeze about 5 P.M. Light drift at frequent intervals, very hazy, and consequently no land in sight during short twilight. Very hard up for mitts and clothing. What little we have on board I have put to one side for the people at the hut. Have given Thompson instructions to turn crew to making pair mitts and helmet out of Jaeger fleece for all hands forward. With strict economy we should make things spin out; cannot help worrying over our people at the hut. Although worrying does no good, one cannot do otherwise in this present impotent state. 11 P.M.—Wind howling and whistling through rigging. Outside, in glare of moon, flying drift and expanse of ice field. Desolation!

“
June
22.—Today the sun has reached the limit of his northern declination and now he will start to come south. Observed this day as holiday, and in the evening had hands aft to drink to the health of the King and the Expedition. All hands are happy, but miss the others at Cape Evans. I pray to God we may soon be clear of this prison and in a position to help them. We can live now for sunlight and activity.

“
July
1.—The 1st of July! Thank God. The days pass quickly. Through all my waking hours one long thought of the people at Cape Evans, but one must appear to be happy and take interest in the small happenings of shipboard.

“
July
3.—Rather hazy with very little light. Moderate west-northwest to southwest winds until noon, when wind veered to south and freshened. No apparent change in ship’s position; the berg is on the same bearing (1 point on the port quarter) and apparently the same distance off. Mount Melbourne was hidden behind a bank of clouds. This is our only landmark now, as Franklin Island is towered in perpetual gloom. Although we have had the berg in sight during all the time of our drift from the entrance to McMurdo Sound, we have not yet seen it in a favorable light, and, were it not for its movement, we might mistake it for a tabular island. It will be interesting to view our companion in the returning light—unless we are too close to it!

“
July
5.—Dull grey day (during twilight) with light, variable, westerly breezes. All around hangs a heavy curtain of haze, and, although very light snow is falling, overhead is black and clear with stars shining. As soon as the faint noon light fades away the heavy low haze intensifies the darkness and makes one thankful that one has a good firm ‘berth’ in the ice. I don’t care to contemplate the scene if the ice should break up at the present time.

“
July
6.—Last night I thought I saw open water in the shape of a long black lane to the southward of the ship and extending in an easterly and westerly direction, but owing to the haze and light snow I could not be sure; this morning the lane was distinctly visible and appeared to be two or three hundred yards wide and two miles long. . . . At 6 P.M. loud pressure noises would be heard from the direction of the open lane and continued throughout the night. Shortly after 8 o’clock the grinding and hissing spread to our starboard bow (west-southwest), and the vibration caused by the pressure could be felt intermittently on board the ship. . . . The incessant grinding and grating of the ice to the southward, with seething noises, as of water rushing under the ship’s bottom, and ominous sounds, kept me on the
qui vive
all night, and the prospect of a breakup of the ice would have wracked my nerves had I not had them numbed by previous experiences.

“
July
9.—At noon the sky to the northward had cleared sufficiently to allow of seeing Mount Melbourne, which appears now as a low peak to the northwest. Ship’s position is twenty-eight miles north-northeast of Franklin Island. On the port bow and ahead of the ship there are some enormous pressure ridges; they seem to be the results of the recent and present ice movements. Pressure heard from the southward all day.

“
July
13.—At 5 P.M. very heavy pressure was heard on the port beam and bow (south) and very close to the ship. This occurred again at irregular intervals. Quite close to the ship the ice could be seen bending upwards, and occasional jars were felt on board. I am inclined to think that we have set into a cul-de-sac and that we will now experience the full force of pressure from the south. We have prepared for the worst and can only hope for the best—a release from the ice with a seaworthy vessel under us.