The Worst Journey in the World (70 page)

Meanwhile I was left alone at Hut Point, where blizzards raged
periodically with the usual creakings and groanings of the old hut.
Foolishly I accompanied my companions, when they started for Cape Evans,
as far as the bottom of Ski Slope. When I left them I found I could not
keep my feet on the slippery snow and ice patches, and I had several
nasty falls, in one of which I gave my shoulder a twist. It was this
shaking combined with the rather desperate conditions which caused a more
acute state of illness and sickness than I had experienced for some time.
Some of those days I remained alone at Hut Point I was too weak to do
more than crawl on my hands and knees about the hut. I had to get blubber
from the door to feed the fire, and chop up seal-meat to eat, to cook,
and to tend the dogs, some of whom were loose, while most of them were
tied in the verandah, or between the hut door and Vince's Cross. The hut
was bitterly cold with only one man in it: had there not been some
morphia among the stores brought down from Cape Evans I do not know what
I should have done.

The dogs realized that they could take liberties which they would not
have dared to do in different circumstances. They whined and growled, and
squabbled amongst themselves all the time, day and night. Seven or eight
times one day I crawled across the floor to try and lay my hands upon one
dog who was the ringleader. I was sure it was Dyk, but never detected him
in the act, and though I thrashed him with difficulty as a speculation,
the result was not encouraging. I would willingly have killed the lot of
them just then, I am ashamed to say. I lay in my sleeping-bag with the
floor of the hut falling from me, or its walls disappearing in the
distance and coming back: and roused myself at intervals to feed blubber
to the stove. I felt as though I had been delivered out of hell when the
relief party arrived on the night of April 14. I had been alone four
days, and I think a few more days would have sent me off my head. Not the
least welcome of the things they had brought me were my letters, copies
of the Weekly Times, a pair of felt shoes and a comb!

Atkinson's plan was to start on April 7 over the old sea-ice which lay to
the south and south-west of us: he was to take with him Wright, Keohane
and Williamson, and they wanted to reach Butter Point, and thence to
sledge up the western coast. If the sea-ice was in, and Campbell was
sledging down upon it, they hoped to meet him and might be of the
greatest assistance to him. Even if they did not meet him they could mark
more obviously certain depôts, of which he had no knowledge, left by our
own geological parties on the route he must follow. As I have already
mentioned, these were on Cape Roberts, off Granite Harbour, and on Cape
Bernacchi, north of New Harbour: there was also a depôt at Butter Point,
but Campbell already knew of this. They could also leave instructions to
this effect at points where he would be likely to see them. There was no
question that there was grave risk in this journey. Not only was the
winter approaching, and the daylight limited, but the sea-ice over which
they must march was most dangerous. Sea-ice is always forming and being
blown out to sea, or just floating away on the tide at this time of year.
The amount of old ice which had remained during the summer was certain to
be limited: the new ice was thin and might take them out with it at any
time. However, what could be done had to be done.

Before they left certain signals by means of rockets and Véry lights were
arranged, to be sent up by us at Hut Point if Campbell arrived: signals
had also been arranged between Hut Point and Cape Evans in view of
certain events. We did not have, but I think we ought to have had some
form of portable heliograph for communications between Hut Point and Cape
Evans when the sun was up and some kind of lamp signal apparatus to use
during the winter.

They started at 10.30 A.M. on Wednesday, April 17. The sun was now only
just peeping over the northern horizon at mid-day, and would disappear
entirely in six more days, though of course there was a long twilight as
yet. For fresh men on old sea-ice it would not have been an easy venture:
for worn-out men on a coast where the ice was probably freezing and
blowing out at odd times it was very brave.

They had hard pulling their first two days, and the minimum temperature
for the corresponding nights was -43° and -45°. Consequently they soon
began to be iced up. On the other hand they found old sea-ice and made
good some 25 miles, camping on the evening of the 18th about four miles
from the Eskers. Next morning they had to venture upon newly frozen ice,
and a blizzard wind was blowing. They crossed the four miles from their
night camp to the Eskers, glad enough to reach land the other side
without the ice going to sea with them. They then turned towards the
Butter Point Depôt, but were compelled to camp owing to the blizzard
which came on with full force. The rise in temperature to zero caused a
general thaw of sleeping-bags and clothing which dried but little when
the sun had no power. On the following morning they reached the Butter
Point Depôt, which they found with difficulty, for there was no flag
standing. Even as they struck their camp they saw the ice to the north of
them breaking up and going out to sea. There was nothing to do but to
turn back, for neither could they go north to Campbell nor could Campbell
come south to them. Wright now told Atkinson how much he had been opposed
to this journey all along: "he had come on this trip fully believing that
there was every possibility of the party being lost, but had never
demurred and never offered a contrary opinion, and one cannot be thankful
enough to such men."
^[260]
They made up the Butter Point Depôt, marked it
as well as they could in case Campbell should arrive there, and left two
weeks' provisions for him. They could do no more.

They got back to the Eskers that same day and anxiously awaited the
twilight of the morning to reveal the state of the new sea-ice which they
had crossed on their outward journey. To their joy some of it remained
and they started to do the four miles between them and the old sea-ice.
For two miles they ran with the sail set: then they had a hard pull, and
some Emperor penguins whom they could see led them to suppose that there
was open water ahead. But they got through all right, and did ten miles
for the day. On Monday 22, "blizzard in morning, so started late, and
made for end of Pinnacled Ice. We found our little bay of sea-ice all
gone out. Luckily there was a sort of ice-foot around the Pinnacled Ice
and we completed seven miles and got through."
^[261]

Tuesday, April 23.
"Atkinson and his party got in about 7 P.M. after a
long pull all day in very bad weather. They are just in the state of a
party which has been out on a very cold spring journey: clothes and
sleeping-bags very wet, sweaters, pyjama coats and so forth full of snow.
Atkinson looks quite done up, his cheeks are fallen in and his throat
shows thin. Wright is also a good deal done up, and the whole party has
evidently had little sleep. They have had a difficult and dangerous trip,
and it is a good thing they are in, and they are fortunate to have had no
mishaps, for the sea-ice is constantly going out over there, and when
they were on it they never knew that they might not find themselves cut
off from the shore. Big leads were constantly opening, even in ice over a
foot thick and with little wind. But even if the ice had been in I do not
believe that they could have gone many days."
^[262]

That same day the sun appeared for the last time for four months.

April 28 seemed to be a quite good day when we woke, and Wright, Keohane
and Gran started back for Cape Evans before 10 A.M. We could then see the
outline of Inaccessible Island, and the ice in the Sound looked fairly
firm. So they determined to go by the way of the sea-ice under Castle
Rock instead of going along the Peninsula to the Hutton Cliffs. Soon
after they started it came up thick, and by 11.30 it was blowing a mild
blizzard with a low temperature. We felt considerable anxiety, especially
when a full blizzard set in with a temperature down to -31°, and we could
not see how the ice was standing it. Two days later it cleared, and that
night a flare was lit at Cape Evans at a pre-arranged time, by which
signal we knew that they had arrived safely. We heard afterwards that
when it came up thick they decided to follow the land which was the only
thing that they could see. They soon found that the ice was not nearly so
good as was supposed: there were open pools of water, and some of the ice
was moving up and down with their weight as they crossed it: Gran put his
foot in. Then Wright went ahead with the Alpine rope, the ice being blue,
the pulling easy, and the wind force 4-5. As far as Turtleback Island the
ice was newly frozen, but after that they knew they were on oldish ice.
They were lost on Cape Evans in the blizzard for some time, but
eventually found the hut safely. One of the lessons of this expedition is
that too little care was taken in travelling on sea-ice.

Atkinson, Dimitri and I left for Cape Evans with the two dog-teams on May
1. Directly we started it was evident that the surface was very bad: even
the ice near Hut Point, which had been frozen for a long time, was hard
pulling for the dogs, and when after less than a mile we got on to ice
which had frozen quite lately the sledges were running on snow which in
turn lay on salt sleet. It seemed a long time before we got abreast of
Castle Rock, following close along the land for the weather was very
thick: when we started we could just see the outline of Inaccessible
Island, but by now the horizon was lost in the dusk and haze. We decided
to push on to Turtleback Island and go over Glacier Tongue in order to
get on to the older ice as soon as possible. The dogs began to get very
done: Manuki Noogis, who had been harnessed in as leader (for Rabchick
had deserted in the night), gave in completely, lay down and refused to
be persuaded to go on: we had to cast him off and hope that he would
follow. After a time Turtleback Island was visible in the gloom, but it
was all we could do, pushing and pulling the sledges to help the dogs, to
get them so far. We were now on the older ice: our way was easier and we
reached Cape Evans without further incident. We found Rabchick on
arrival, but no Manuki Noogis, who never reappeared.

As we neared the Cape Atkinson turned to me: "Would you go for Campbell
or the Polar Party next year?" he said. "Campbell," I answered: just then
it seemed to me unthinkable that we should leave live men to search for
those who were dead.

Ordinary people snuggle up to God as a lost leveret in a freezing
wilderness might snuggle up to a Siberian tiger....—H. G. WELLS.

(I)
5 men dead.
SCOTT
OATES
WILSON
SEAMAN EVANS
BOWERS

(II)
9 men gone home.
LIEUT. EVANS
DAY
SIMPSON
FORDE
MEARES
CLISSOLD
TAYLOR
ANTON
PONTING

(III)
2 men landed.
ARCHER
WILLIAMSON

(IV)
13 men at Cape Evans for third year.
ATKINSON
LASHLY
CREAN
CHERRY-GARRARD
KEOHANE
WRIGHT
DIMITRI
DEBENHAM
HOOPER
GRAN
WILLIAMSON
NELSON
ARCHER

A quite disproportionately small part of Scott's Last Expedition was
given to Atkinson's account of the last and worst year any of us
survivors spent: some one should have compelled him to write, for he will
not do so if he can help it. The problems which presented themselves were
unique in the history of Arctic travel, the weather conditions which had
to be faced during this last winter were such as had never been met in
McMurdo Sound! The sledging personnel had lately undergone journeys, in
one case no less than four journeys, of major importance, until they were
absolutely worn out. The successful issue of the party was a triumph of
good management and good fellowship. The saving clause was that as
regards hut, food, heat, clothing and the domestic life generally we were
splendidly found. To the north of us, some hundreds of miles away,
Campbell's party of six men must be fighting for their lives against
these same conditions, or worse—unless indeed they had already perished
on their way south. We knew they must be in desperate plight, but
probably they were alive: the point in their favour was that they were
fresh men. To the south of us, anywhere between us and the Pole, were
five men. We knew
they
must be dead.

The immediate problem which presented itself was how best to use the
resources which were left to us. Our numbers were much reduced. Nine men
had gone home before any hint of tragedy reached them. Two men had been
landed from the ship. We were thirteen men for this last year. Of these
thirteen it was almost certain that Debenham would be unable to go out
sledging again owing to an injury to his knee: Archer had come to cook
and not to sledge: and it was also doubtful about myself. As a matter of
fact our sledging numbers for the last summer totalled eleven, five
officers and six men.

We were well provided with transport, having the seven mules sent down by
the Indian Government, which were excellent animals, as well as our
original two dog-teams: the additional dogs brought down by the ship were
with two exceptions of no real sledging value. Our dog-teams had,
however, already travelled some 1500 miles on the Barrier alone, not
counting the work they had done between Hut Point and Cape Evans; and,
though we did not realize it at this time, they were sick of it and never
worked again with that dash which we had come to expect of them.

The first thing which we settled about the winter which lay ahead of us
was that, so far as possible, everything should go on as usual. The
scientific work must of course be continued, and there were the dogs and
mules to be looked after: a night-watch to be kept and the meteorological
observations and auroral notes to be taken. Owing to our reduced numbers
we should need the help of the seamen for this purpose. We were also to
bring out another volume of the South Polar Times on Mid-winter Day. The
importance of not allowing any sense of depression to become a part of
the atmosphere of our life was clear to all. This was all the more
necessary when, as we shall see, the constant blizzards confined us week
after week to our hut. Even when we did get a fine day we were almost
entirely confined to the rocky cape for our exercise and walks. When
there was sea-ice it was most unsafe.