The Worst Journey in the World (9 page)

Evans, who will always be called Lieutenant Evans in this book to
distinguish him from Seaman Evans, was in charge of the ship, and did
much to cement together the rough material into a nucleus which was
capable of standing without any friction the strains of nearly three
years of crowded, isolated and difficult life, ably seconded by Victor
Campbell, first officer, commonly called The Mate, in whose hands the
routine and discipline of the ship was most efficiently maintained. I was
very frightened of Campbell.

Scott himself was unable to travel all the way out to New Zealand in the
Terra Nova owing to the business affairs of the expedition, but he
joined the ship from Simon's Bay to Melbourne.

The voyage itself on the sailing track from Madeira to the Cape was at
first uneventful. We soon got into hot weather, and at night every
available bit of deck space was used on which to sleep. The more
particular slung hammocks, but generally men used such deck space as they
could find, such as the top of the icehouse, where they were free from
the running tackle, and rolled themselves into their blankets. So long as
we had a wind we ran under sail alone, and on those days men would bathe
over the side in the morning, but when the engines were going we could
get the hose in the morning, which was preferred, especially after a
shark was seen making for Bowers' red breast as he swam.

The scene on deck in the early morning was always interesting. All hands
were roused before six and turned on to the pumps, for the ship was
leaking considerably. Normally, the well showed about ten inches of water
when the ship was dry. Before pumping, the sinker would show anything
over two feet. The ship was generally dry after an hour to an hour and a
half's pumping, and by that time we had had quite enough of it. As soon
as the officer of the watch had given the order, "Vast pumping," the
first thing to do was to strip, and the deck was dotted with men trying
to get the maximum amount of water from the sea in a small bucket let
down on a line from the moving ship. First efforts in this direction
would have been amusing had it not been for the caustic eye of the 'Mate'
on the bridge. If the reader ever gets the chance to try the experiment,
especially in a swell, he will soon find himself with neither bucket nor
water. The poor Mate was annoyed by the loss of his buckets.

Everybody was working very hard during these days; shifting coal, reefing
and furling sail aloft, hauling on the ropes on deck, together with
magnetic and meteorological observations, tow-netting, collecting and
making skins and so forth. During the first weeks there was more cargo
stowing and paintwork than at other times, otherwise the work ran in
very much the same lines all the way out—a period of nearly five months.
On July 1 we were overhauled by the only ship we ever saw, so far as I
can remember, during all that time, the Inverclyde, a barque out from
Glasgow to Buenos Ayres. It was an oily, calm day with a sea like glass,
and she looked, as Wilson quoted, "like a painted ship upon a painted
ocean," as she lay with all sail set.

We picked up the N.E. Trade two days later, being then north of the Cape
Verde Islands (lat. 22° 28' N., long. 23° 5' W. at noon). It was a
Sunday, and there was a general 'make and mend' throughout the ship, the
first since we sailed. During the day we ran from deep clear blue water
into a darkish and thick green sea. This remarkable change of colour,
which was observed by the Discovery Expedition in much the same place,
was supposed to be due to a large mass of pelagic fauna called plankton.
The plankton, which drifts upon the surface of the sea, is distinct from
the nekton, which swims submerged. The Terra Nova was fitted with tow
nets with very fine meshes for collecting these inhabitants of the open
sea, together with the algae, or minute plant organisms, which afford
them an abundant food supply.

The plankton nets can be lowered when the ship is running at full speed,
and a great many such hauls were made during the expedition.

July 5 had an unpleasant surprise in store. At 10.30 A.M. the ship's bell
rang and there was a sudden cry of "Fire quarters." Two Minimax fire
extinguishers finished the fire, which was in the lazarette, and was
caused by a lighted lamp which was upset by the roll of the ship. The
result was a good deal of smoke, a certain amount of water below, and
some singed paper, but we realized that a fire on such an old wooden ship
would be a very serious matter, and greater care was taken after this.

Such a voyage shows Nature in her most attractive form, and always there
was a man close by whose special knowledge was in the whales, porpoises,
dolphins, fish, birds, parasites, plankton, radium and other things which
we watched through microscopes or field-glasses. Nelson caught a
Portuguese man-of-war (Arethusa) as it sailed past us close under the
counter. These animals are common, but few can realize how beautiful they
are until they see them, fresh-coloured from the deep sea, floating and
sailing in a big glass bowl. It vainly tried to sail out, and vigorously
tried to sting all who touched it. Wilson painted it.

From first to last the study of life of all kinds was of absorbing
interest to all on board, and, when we landed in the Antarctic, as well
as on the ship, everybody worked and was genuinely interested in all that
lived and had its being on the fringe of that great sterile continent.
Not only did officers who had no direct interest in anything but their
own particular work or scientific subject spend a large part of their
time in helping, making notes and keeping observations, but the seamen
also had a large share in the specimens and data of all descriptions
which have been brought back. Several of them became good pupils for
skinning birds.

Meanwhile, perhaps the constant cries of "Whale, whale!" or "New bird!"
or "Dolphins!" sometimes found the biologist concerned less eager to
leave his meal than the observers were to call him forth. Good
opportunities of studying the life of sea birds, whales, dolphins and
other forms of life in the sea, even those comparatively few forms which
are visible from the surface, are not too common. A modern liner moves so
quickly that it does not attract life to it in the same way as a
slow-moving ship like the Terra Nova, and when specimens are seen they
are gone almost as soon as they are observed. Those who wish to study sea
life—and there is much to be done in this field—should travel by tramp
steamers, or, better still, sailing vessels.

Dolphins were constantly playing under the bows of the ship, giving a
very good chance for identification, and whales were also frequently
sighted, and would sometimes follow the ship, as did also hundreds of sea
birds, petrels, shearwaters and albatross. It says much for the interest
and keenness of the officers on board that a complete hourly log was
kept from beginning to end of the numbers and species which were seen,
generally with the most complete notes as to any peculiarity or habit
which was noticed. It is to be hoped that full use will be made, by those
in charge of the working out of these results, of these logs which were
kept so thoroughly and sometimes under such difficult circumstances and
conditions of weather and sea. Though many helped, this log was largely
the work of Pennell, who was an untiring and exact observer.

We lost the N.E. Trade about July 7, and ran into the Doldrums. On the
whole we could not complain of the weather. We never had a gale or big
sea until after leaving South Trinidad, and though an old ship with no
modern ventilation is bound to be stuffy in the tropics, we lived and
slept on deck so long as it was not raining. If it rained at night, as it
frequently does in this part of the world, a number of rolled-up forms
could be heard discussing as to whether it was best to stick it above or
face the heat below; and if the rain persisted, sleepy and somewhat
snappy individuals were to be seen trying to force themselves and a
maximum amount of damp bedding down the wardroom gangway. At the same
time a thick wooden ship will keep fairly cool in the not severe heat
through which we passed.

One want which was unavoidable was the lack of fresh water. There was
none to wash in, though a glass of water was allowed for shaving! With an
unlimited amount of sea water this may not seem much of a hardship; nor
is it unless you have very dirty work to do. But inasmuch as some of the
officers were coaling almost daily, they found that any amount of cold
sea water, even with a euphemistically named 'sea-water soap,' had no
very great effect in removing the coal dust. The alternative was to make
friends with the engine-room authorities and draw some water from the
boilers.

Perhaps therefore it was not with purely disinterested motives that some
of us undertook to do the stoking during the morning watch, and also
later in the day during our passage through the tropics, since the
engine-room staff was reduced by sickness. A very short time will
convince anybody that the ease with which men accustomed to this work get
through their watch is mainly due to custom and method. The ship had no
forced draught nor modern ventilating apparatus. Four hours in the
boiling fiery furnace which the Terra Nova's stokehold formed in the
tropics, unless there was a good wind to blow down the one canvas shaft,
was a real test of staying power, and the actual shovelling of the coal
into the furnaces, one after the other, was as child's play to handling
the 'devil,' as the weighty instrument used for breaking up the clinker
and shaping the fire was called. The boilers were cylindrical marine or
return tube boilers, the furnaces being six feet long by three feet wide,
slightly lower at the back than at the front. The fire on the bars was
kept wedge-shape, that is, some nine inches high at the back, tapering to
about six inches in front against the furnace doors. The furnaces were
corrugated for strength. We were supposed to keep the pressure on the
gauge between 70 and 80, but it wanted some doing. For the most part it
was done.

We did, however, get uncomfortable days with the rain sluicing down and a
high temperature—everything wet on deck and below. But it had its
advantages in the fresh water it produced. Every bucket was on duty, and
the ship's company stripped naked and ran about the decks or sat in the
stream between the laboratories and wardroom skylight and washed their
very dirty clothes. The stream came through into our bunks, and no amount
of caulking ever stopped it. To sleep with a constant drip of water
falling upon you is a real trial. These hot, wet days were more trying to
the nerves than the months of wet, rough but cooler weather to come, and
it says much for the good spirit which prevailed that there was no
friction, though we were crowded together like sardines in a tin.

July 12 was a typical day (lat. 4° 57' N., long. 22° 4' W.). A very hot,
rainy night, followed by a squall which struck us while we were having
breakfast, so we went up and set all sail, which took until about 9.30
A.M. We then sat in the water on the deck and washed clothes until just
before mid-day, when the wind dropped, though the rain continued. So we
went up and furled all sail, a tedious business when the sails are wet
and heavy. Then work on cargo or coal till 7 P.M., supper, and glad to
get to sleep.

On July 15 (lat. 0° 40' N., long. 21° 56' W.) we crossed the Line with
all pomp and ceremony. At 1.15 P.M. Neptune in the person of Seaman Evans
hailed and stopped the ship. He came on board with his motley company,
who solemnly paced aft to the break of the poop, where he was met by
Lieutenant Evans. His wife (Browning), a doctor (Paton), barber
(Cheetham), two policemen and four bears, of whom Atkinson and Oates were
two, grouped themselves round him while the barrister (Abbott) read an
address to the captain, and then the procession moved round to the bath,
a sail full of water slung in the break of the poop on the starboard
side.

Nelson was the first victim. He was examined, then overhauled by the
doctor, given a pill and a dose, and handed over to the barber, who
lathered him with a black mixture consisting of soot, flour and water,
was shaved by Cheetham with a great wooden razor, and then the policemen
tipped him backwards into the bath where the bears were waiting. As he
was being pushed in he seized the barber and took him with him.

Wright, Lillie, Simpson and Levick followed, with about six of the crew.
Finally Gran, the Norwegian, was caught as an extra—never having been
across the Line in a British ship. But he threw the pill-distributing
doctor over his head into the bath, after which he was lathered very
gingerly, and Cheetham having been in once, refused to shave him at all,
so they tipped him in and wished they had never caught him.

The procession re-formed, and Neptune presented certificates to those who
had been initiated. The proceedings closed with a sing-song in the
evening.

These sing-songs were of very frequent occurrence. The expedition was
very fond of singing, though there was hardly anybody in it who could
sing. The usual custom at this time was that every one had to contribute
a song in turn all round the table after supper. If he could not sing he
had to compose a limerick. If he could not compose a limerick he had to
contribute a fine towards the wine fund, which was to make some
much-discussed purchases when we reached Cape Town. At other times we
played the most childish games—there was one called 'The Priest of the
Parish has lost his Cap,' over which we laughed till we cried, and much
money was added to the wine fund.

As always happens, certain songs became conspicuous for a time. One of
these I am sure that Campbell, who was always at work and upon whom the
routine of the ship depended, will never forget. I do not know who it was
that started singing