South with Scott Part 6

CHAPTER VII

ARRANGEMENTS FOR THE WINTER

Less than a fortnight from the day of our return to Cape Evans, on April 23 to be exact, the sun left us to remain below the horizon for four long weary months. Of course, there was a considerable amount of twilight, and even on midwinter's day at noon there was some gray light in the north.

Different people took the winter in different fas.h.i.+on, according to their temperaments. There were some who never could have faced a second winter with any degree of cheerfulness, but taking it all round, we did well enough, and when summer came again our concrete keenness and zeal had not one whit abated. That is especially true in the case of those who were chosen to make the great journey southward, even though it was obvious that certain members could only accompany their leader for a mere fraction of the great white way.

During the four months' winter darkness each one occupied himself with his special subject, and Dr. Wilson not only proved himself to be an efficient chief of our scientific staff, but a sound friend and companion to the executive members, Bowers, Oates, Meares, and myself. Uncle Bill was our Solomon and it was to him that we all went for sympathy and practical advice. It was to him the staff went, that is to say, the officers and scientists, for the smoothing over of those little difficulties, roughnesses, and unevennesses that were bound to arrive from time to time during the course of winter. The sailors came more to Bowers, Oates, and myself, for, in their conservative naval way, they could never quite get over the fact that the hut was not a s.h.i.+p and that there were other members who, although they had never come under any sort of naval or military discipline, were men of greater age and experience in fending for themselves than youngsters like Bowers and myself. Still, things went beautifully, and so they should have, when one considers the great care our leader had exercised in the selection of his personnel.

If Scott had had his choice again and if he had been allowed to select from the whole world, one can say without hesitation he would have chosen Wilson to captain our splendid scientific team and to be his human book of reference. Wilson was more nearly Scott's own age than the other important members of this enterprise, and Wilson, it must be remembered, had pulled shoulder to shoulder with Scott on his southern sledge journey in 1902-3.

Before taking a peep at the individuals forming the rest of our party and at their delicate scientific work at the base station, I must not forget to mention that Scott, with his indomitable energy, was away again four days after his return to Cape Evans with Bowers, Crean, and five fresh men to Hut Point for the dual purpose of replenis.h.i.+ng that station with fuel, lighting material, etc., and getting those who should be at Cape Evans for certain work and duty back there. Scott returned by the way we had come, i.e. the Glacier Tongue-Castle Rock route, and then left the dog-boy with Meares to take charge of these animals, Lashly and Keohane to nurse and exercise the two ponies, and Nelson and Forde to get into the way of winter roughing it, besides which he left Day over at Hut Point, where his clever fingers found plenty to do to ameliorate the condition of those living there. Day had learnt much under Shackleton in these parts, and by some of us he was nicknamed "Handy Andy." Meares was now appointed "Governor of Hut Point." As a matter of fact he and his dogs were better off here than at Cape Evans, because the dogs could use the big sheltered verandas already mentioned, whereas they had no such shelter at Cape Evans.

Scott was back in the hut by April 21, having left Meares definite orders that James Pigg and Punch the ponies were not to leave Hut Point for Cape Evans until the entire journey could be made over the sea ice under conditions of absolute safety. This meant a wait of three weeks to a month before everything suited, and the "Governor of Hut Point" did not come in until the 13th May, when he arrived in pomp and splendour with all the dogs and the two ponies fit and well--his party, black with soot and blubber, their wind-proof clothing smelly and greasy, a dirty but robust and cheerful gang.

A glance at the accompanying plan shows whereabout we worked. Starting at the left hand top corner we find Simpson's laboratory, and we usually found Simpson in it at work, always at work, except when he was engaged in scientific argument or when, just after lunch, he stretched himself out on his bunk at the end of a large cigar! Simpson was no novice to work in the frigid zones, for he had already wintered within the Arctic circle in northern Norway. Weather did not worry him much nor apparently did temperatures, for since his investigations midst the snows of the Vikings' land, Simpson had worked extensively in India. His enduring good humour and his smiling manner earned for him the sobriquet of Sunny Jim.

In the first year the self-registering instruments that found themselves in Simpson's corner, or in the small hut which contained his magnetic observatory, gave us an admirable record of temperatures, barometric pressures, wind force and direction, atmospheric electricity, suns.h.i.+ne when the sun did s.h.i.+ne, and the elements of terrestrial magnetism. Thanks to Simpson, we also had investigations of the upper air currents, aurora observations, atmospheric optics, gravity determination and what is more, some fine practical teaching that enabled the various sledging units properly to observe and collect data of meteorological importance.

Simpson's place was essentially at the base station; and his consequent work as physicist and meteorologist prevented him from taking an active part in our sledge journeys. When he was recalled to Simla in 1912 his work was ably continued by Wright, our Canadian chemist, who, as I have said elsewhere, accompanied us south to make a special study of ice structure and glaciation.

Wright lived in the bunk above Simpson's, and when not devoting his energy and magnificent physique to sledging and field work, he gave himself up to the study of ice physics, a somewhat new scientific line of research. Wright was originally introduced to the Expedition by Griffith Taylor, and Scott, advised by Wilson, was so keen on the inclusion of this young Canadian chemist in our scientific staff that really the study of ice structure and glaciation was made for Wright and his science coined for him. He photographed ice flowers formed in the sea, he found out how long ice took to freeze down our way, cast aspersions on the bearing capabilities of our beloved sea ice and, generally, brought his intelligence to bear in a way that commanded the approbation of Wilson and our chief. Wright was one of the strongest members of our Expedition, and he had the most powerful flow of language. He made some beautiful photographs of ice crystals and surprised the simple sailor like myself with his ability as a navigator and astronomer.

Moving along from Wright and Simpson we come to Nelson and Day. Teddy Nelson, our marine biologist, did both winters at Cape Evans, and he not only carried out biological work but studied the tides. His corner was pleasant to look upon, with its orderly row of enamelled and china trays and dishes. During the winter months holes were made in the sea ice through which were lowered tow-nets, for collecting drifting organisms and so on. Special thermometers of German make were lowered by Nelson through the ice holes to get sea temperatures, and likewise reversing water bottles were employed to obtain samples of sea-water daily.

Day, the motor engineer, was responsible for the lighting by acetylene.

He was wonderfully clever as a mechanic and also a good carpenter. He took charge of our petrol, paraffin, and spirit store, and was never idle for a minute.

Moving along to the right we come to the last cubicle, where the "Rubbleyubdugs" lived. These were Tryggve Gran, Griffith Taylor, and Frank Debenham. (All libel actions in connection with the Ubdugs I am prepared to settle out of port in the long bar at Shanghai.) Quoting from the "South Polar Times": "'The Ubdug Burrow' is festooned with kodaks, candles and curtains; they (the Ubdugs) are united by an intense love of the science of autobiography, their somewhat ambiguous motto is 'the pen is mightier than the sword, but the tongue licks them both!'" Griffith Taylor and Debenham were both Australians: the former was probably the wittiest man in the Expedition, and, in my opinion, the cleverest contributor to the "South Polar Times," excepting of course the artistic side. The "South Polar Times" was our winter magazine, beautifully ill.u.s.trated by Wilson's water colours and Ponting's photographs. Taylor's motto was "Advance, Australia!"--most certainly he helped it to. People were always welcome in the Ubduggery, where they seemed to have an unlimited supply of cigarettes and good novels.

Debenham was certainly nurse to the Ubdugs, that is to say he was the least untidy, but then of course he was the smallest. In this cubicle the most voluminous of diaries were kept, and at least two books have been published therefrom. Gran kept his diary mostly in Norwegian, but there were many words coined in our Expedition which had no Scandinavian equivalent, and Gran failed to translate them, in spite of his having more imagination than any one amongst us.

Crossing over the hut to the cubicle opposite one arrives at the somewhat congested s.p.a.ce in which Cherry-Garrard was housed, with Bowers above him. In their corner were store lists, books, and mystery bags which contained material for the "South Polar Times," toys and frivolous presents to liven us up at the midwinter and other festivities. Bowers and Cherry-Garrard were, in a way, worse off than the others, for they had the darkest part of the hut, yet in this gloomy tenement all kinds of calculations were made and much other good work done.

Oates came next, with his bunk more free of debris than anybody else's, for he was the horse man, pure and simple, and his duties freed him from that superabundance of books, instruments, stationery, specimens, charts, and what-not with which we others had surrounded ourselves. Any spare gear he kept in the saddle room, a specially cleared s.p.a.ce in the stables, where he was a.s.sisted by the little Russian groom, Anton, who soon became devoted to his hard-working and capable master. The two men, so unlike in appearance and character, etc., and such miles apart in social standing and nationality, worked shoulder to shoulder in the stables throughout the long winter night. By the dim candle-light which illuminated our pony-shelter, one could see Oates grooming his charges, clearing up their stall, refitting their harness, and fixing up the little improvements that his quick, watchful eye continually suggested.

At the far end of his stables he had a blubber stove, where he used to melt ice for the ponies' drinking water and cook bran mashes for his animals. Here he would often sit and help Meares make dog pemmican out of seal meat--they made about 8 cwt. of this sustaining preparation.

Moving along from the Chateau, Oates, Meares's and Atkinson's two bunks came next, Meares above and Atkinson below. These two sleeping berths likewise were not conspicuous by any superfluity of scientific oddments, for Meares's work took him outside of the hut as a rule, unless he was engaged in making dog harness. Meares and Oates were the greatest friends, and these two, Atkinson, Cherry-Garrard and Bowers, were, if I remember rightly, known collectively as the Bunderlohg. Although numerically superior to their _vis-a-vis_, the Ubdugs, and always ready to revile them, the Ubdugs kept their end up and usually came out victorious in discussions or in badinage.

Finally, the Holy of Holies, where Captain Scott and the library occupied one end and Uncle Bill and myself the far corner, with the ceaselessly ticking chronometers and many sledging watches. There was an air of sanct.i.ty about this part: all the plotting was done here, charts made and astronomical observations worked out. Wilson worked up his sketches at the "plotting table," interviewed the staff here, and above his bunk kept a third of the sh.o.r.e party's library. We had two comfortable trestle beds up our end and our leader also had a bed in preference to the built-up bunk adopted by most of the afterguard. Ours was the Mayfair district: Wilson and I lived in Park Lane in those days, whilst Captain Scott occupied Grosvenor Street! He had his own little table covered with "toney" green linoleum, and also had a multiplicity of little shelves on which to keep his pipes, tobacco, cigars, and other household G.o.ds. It was well illuminated in this part, and, although, hung around with fur mitts, fur boots, socks, hats and woollen clothing, there was something very chaste about this very respectable corner. For the rest of it we had our Arctic library, and the spare s.p.a.ces on the matchboard bulkhead, which fenced it on three sides, were decorated with photographs. In place of eiderdown Scott's old uniform overcoat usually covered his bed, while peeping out from under his sleeping place one could espy an emblem of civilisation and prosperity in the shape of a very good suit-case.

The foregoing pages ill.u.s.trate sufficiently the grouping of the afterguard, and if one adds an anthracite stove, a 12 ft. by 4 ft. table, a pianola, gramophone, and a score of chairs, with a small shelf-like table squeezed in between the dark-room and Simpson's corner, one completes the picture of the officers' quarters in the Cape Evans Hut.

A bulkhead of biscuit cases and so on divided us from the men's accommodation. They were very well off, each seaman having a trestle bed similar to Captain Scott's, unless he preferred to build a bunk for himself, as one or two did. They had a table 6 ft. by 4 ft., and the cook had a kitchen table 4 ft. square, and certainly no crew s.p.a.ce was ever provided on a Polar Expedition that gave such comfortable and cosy housing room.

CHAPTER VIII

THE WINTER CLOSES IN

The closing down of the Polar night was very swift now and the few hours of gray daylight were employed collecting what data was required by certain members for working on during the forthcoming days of darkness.

Young Gran was handed over to me to help with the survey work and astronomical observations which had to be taken from time to time. He was a most entertaining a.s.sistant. Without complaint, he stood patiently s.h.i.+vering in that cutting winter wind whilst I swung around the theodolite telescope and took angles for him to write down in my notebook. I don't think anybody has made a triangulated survey under conditions worse than we endured that epoch: the weather was beastly and we spent much time dancing when nearly sick with cold, our fingers tucked under our arms to recover their feelings. When one's extremities did get frost-bitten it was no joke--frost-bitten finger tips gave us little peace at night with their sharp burning pain.

The most interesting part of the survey work was what is known to the surveyor as coast-lining. This meant walking along the edge of the sea ice, fixing one's position by s.e.xtant angle every five hundred yards or so, and sketching in a notebook the character and features of the ever changing coast between the various "fixes." One could keep warm doing this and one saw more of the land and ice formation than the others, for it meant following carefully round-cape and glacier edge, penetrating inlets and delineating every islet, promontory, cliff, and talus.

In spite of the cold, the gloom, and the sad whistling wind that heralded the now fast approaching darkness, I felt glad to work with my s.e.xtant and sketch-book under the shadow of those fantastic ice-foots hung round with fringes of icicle. I loved to go with Gran into the deep bays and walk for miles under the overhanging of the vast ice cliffs all purple in the reflection of the early winter noon, and to come out sometimes as we did on to the sea ice clear of a jutting glacier, to face suddenly northward over the frozen sea where nothing but a great waste of ice stretched away to meet the horizon and the rosy, copper glow of the departed sun's rays. Some of the cloud effects at the end of April were too wonderful for mere pen or brush to describe. To appreciate them one must go there and see them, those wonderful half-light tints.

Then there were the ice caves and grottos which were formed in the grounded icebergs that had overturned before we came, and the still more wonderful caves in the ice-sheet where it over-rode Ross Island and formed a cliff-face between Cape Evans and Glacier Tongue, extraordinarily like the white chalk cliffs of Studland Bay I found them, with here and there outstanding pinnacles which a little imagination would liken to Old Harry Rocks when the gray light was on them.

At the most we could only take s.e.xtant and theodolite angles for two hours on either side of noon, so Gran and I went without our lunch, taking a few biscuits and some chocolate out with us on our survey days, and as we worked farther and farther from our base we found it necessary to start out in the darkness in order to take full advantage of what light was vouchsafed us. It was good healthy work and we developed glorious appet.i.tes, so that our mouths ran with water when perhaps we met a couple of fellows leading the little white ponies on the sea ice for exercise, and they told us what they had had for lunch and what was being kept for us. We found it all most interesting and, although I detested that sunless winter, I loved the changing scenery, which never seemed monotonous when there was any daylight or moonlight. To mark our "stations" we used red and black bunting flags, and they showed up very well. We gave them all sorts of weird names, such as Sardine, Shark, and so forth, and we knew almost to a yard their distances from one another, as also their bearings, which helped us when we were overtaken by bad weather. Eventually it became too dark for any survey work, but there was always plenty to do indoors for the majority of us. Apart from our specialist duties some one was always to be found who could give employment to the willing--there were no idlers or unwilling folk amongst us. Simpson, for example, would employ as many volunteers as he could get to follow the balloons which he frequently sent up to record temperature and pressure. To each of these balloons a fine silk thread was attached, or rather the thread was attached to the little instrument it carried.

When any strain was put on the thread it broke the thread connecting the small temperature and pressure instrument to the balloon, the former dropped on to the ice and was recovered by one of the volunteers, who followed the silk thread up until he came to the instrument where it had fallen. One required good eyesight for this work as for everything else down here, and I have never ceased to marvel at the way Cherry-Garrard got about and worked so well when one considers that he was very short-sighted indeed.

Everybody exercised generously, whether by himself on ski, leading a pony, digging ice for the cook or ice to melt for the ponies' drinking water, or even with a whole crowd playing rather dangerous football on the sea ice north of Cape Evans.

When the real winter came I used to walk, after winding the chronometers, until breakfast time to begin with. This gave me half an hour, then again before lunch I would put on ski and go for a run with anybody who had not a pony to exercise. The visibility was frequently limited, particularly on overcast days; one would glide along over the sea ice, which was in places wind-swept and in others covered with snow. Nothing in sight but the gray-white shadow underfoot and the blue-black sky above, a streak or band just a mere smudge of daylight in the north, but this would be sufficient to give one direction to go out on. Then slowly, dim, spectre-like shapes would appear which would gradually sort themselves out into two lots, black and white--these were t.i.tus's ponies--the white shapes, the black were the men leading them. On they came, seemingly at a great pace, and one heard a crunching noise as the hoofs of the ponies trod down the snow crust, but one could not hear the footfalls of the men. One exchanged a "Hallo" with the leading man and pa.s.sed on until a much bigger white shape loomed up in the obscurity of the noon-twilight, the going underfoot changed and skis fetched up against a great lump of ice which was scarcely discernible in the confusing darkness, and one realised that what little light there was to the northward had been blotted out by one of the big grounded icebergs. Directly one realised which berg it was a new course would be shaped, say to the end of the Barne Glacier; the cliffs of this reached, one proceeded homeward a league to the hut. This could not be missed on the darkest day if the coast-line was followed, and, at last, when stomach cried out like a striking clock, one realised that it was 2 p.m. or so, and a little glow indicated the whereabouts of the hut. Approaching it, one saw the tall chimney silhouetted against the sky, then the black shapes which oddly proclaimed themselves to be motor-sledges, store heaps or fodder dumps, and finally the hut itself. One stumbled over the tide-crack and up on to the much trodden snow which covered the Cape Evans's beach. Six or seven pairs of skis stuck in the snow near the hut door indicated that most people had come in to lunch, so there was need to haste. Off came one's own skis, and with a l.u.s.ty stab in they went heel downwards into the snow alongside the other ones, so that when a new fall came they would stand up vertically and be easily found again.

The sticks one took into the hut, because even in our well-appointed family there were pirates who borrowed them and forgot to replace them.

Entering the hut after kicking much snow from boots one pa.s.sed first through the acetylene smelling porch--Handy Andy's pride--as we called Day's gas plant, then in to the seamen's quarters, where the smell of cooking delighted and the sight of those great, hefty sailors scoffing the midday meal hustled one still more.

In the officers' half of the hut most people were already busy with their knives and forks, two or three perhaps just sitting down, the night watch-man probably sitting up on the edge of his bunk putting on his slippers, and cheerfully accepting the friendly insults from his pals at table who told him the date and year--down went ski-sticks on the bed, room would be made at the table, and half a dozen dishes pushed your way, and although the mess-traps were enamelled, the food you shuffled down from the tin plate and the cocoa you lapped from the blue and white mug had not its equal at the Carlton, the Ritz, or the Berkeley.

Concerning the night watchman and his duties, although we had so many self-recording instruments, there were certain things which called for attention during the silent hours. Aurora observations had to be made which no instrument would record, movement of clouds had to be noted in the meteorological log, the snow cleared from the anemometer and so forth, then of course rounds had to be made in case of fire, ponies and dogs visited, the galley fire lit or kept going according to requirements, and so on. Night watch-keeping duty was only undertaken by certain members chosen from the afterguard. Scott himself always took a share in this, as he did in everything else that mattered. One came to welcome the night on, for the attendant work was not very strenuous and the eight hours' quietude gave the watchman a chance to write up a neglected diary, to wash clothes, work out observations, and perhaps make contributions to the "South Polar Times" undisturbed by casual well-wishers who were not meant to see the article in question until the day of publication. We were allowed to choose from the stores more or less what we liked for consumption in the stillness of the night watch. I always contributed special China or Ceylon tea for the benefit of the lonely watchman--I had two big canisters of the beverage, a present from one of our New Zealand well-wishers, Mrs. Arthur Rhodes of Christchurch, and these lasted the afterguard watch-keepers through the Expedition.

The auroras were a little disappointing this first winter as seen from Cape Evans, they were certainly better seen from the Barrier. We only got golden bands and curtains splaying in the heavens, except for one or two rare occasions when there were distinct green rays low down amongst the shafts of weird light farthest from the zenith.

In view of the possibility of a second winter one kept a few letters going which contained a little narrative of our work to date. We had most imposing note-paper which was used for these occasions: the crest consisted of a penguin standing on the South Pole with the southern hemisphere underfoot, a garter surrounding this little picture inscribed with "British Antarctic Expedition--'Terra Nova' R.Y.S." Alas, some of the letters were never delivered, for death not only laid his hand upon certain members of the Expedition, but also upon some of our older friends, supporters, and subscribers.

One pa.s.sed out of the hut hourly at least and, on moonlight nights especially, one found something beautiful in the scenery about Cape Evans. At full moon time everything turned silver, from towering Erebus with gleaming sides to the smooth ice slopes of Ross Island in the north-east, while away to the southward the high black Dellbridge Islands thrust up from a sea of flat silver ice. Even the conical hills and the majestic Castle Rock, fifteen miles away, stood out quite clearly on occasions. The weirdest thing of all was to hear the dogs howling in the middle of the night, they made one think of wolves and of Siberia.

All things considered, the winter pa.s.sed quickly enough: we had three lectures a week, and our professional occupations, our recreations and different interests soon sped away the four months' winter darkness. The lectures embraced the technical and the practical side of the Expedition; thus, besides each of the scientific staff lecturing on his individual subject, Oates gave us two lectures on the care and management of horses; Scott outlined his plans for the great southern journey, giving probable dates and explaining the system of supporting parties which he proposed to employ; Ponting told us about j.a.pan, and ill.u.s.trated his subject with beautiful slides made from photographs that he himself had taken; Bowers lectured on Burma, until we longed to be there; and Meares gave us a light but intensely interesting lecture on his adventures in the Lolo country, a practically unknown land in Central Asia.

In connection with the work of Simpson at the base station, I must not forget the telephones. Certain telephones and equipment sufficient for our needs were presented to us in 1910 by the staff of the National Telephone Co., and they were very largely used in scientific work at the base station as well as for connecting Cape Evans to Hut Point, fifteen miles away. Simpson made the Cape Evans-Hut Point connection in September, 1911, by laying the bare aluminium wire along the surface of the snow-covered sea ice, and for a long time there was no difficulty in ringing up by means of magnetos. However, when the sun came back and its rays became reasonably powerful, difficulty in ringing and speaking was experienced.

We used the telephones almost daily for taking time, and Simpson used to stand inside the hut at the sidereal clock whilst I took astronomical observations outside in the cold. We also telephoned time to the ice cave in which the pendulums were being swung when determining the force of gravity. Telephones were quite efficient in temperatures of 40 degrees and more below zero.

Midwinter Day arrived on June 22, and here one must pay an affectionate and grateful tribute to Bowers, Wilson, Cherry-Garrard, and Clissold the cook.

To start with, we had to discuss whether we would hold the midwinter festival on the 22nd or 23rd of June, because in reality the sun reached its farthest northern Declination at 2.30 a.m. on the 23rd by the standard time which we were keeping. We decided to hold it on the evening of the 22nd, this being the dinner time nearest the actual culmination. A Buszard's cake extravagantly iced was placed on the tea-table by Cherry-Garrard, his gift to us, and this was the first of the dainties with which we proceeded to stuff ourselves on this memorable day.

Although in England it was mid-summer we could not help thinking of those at home in Christmas vein. The day here was to all intents and purposes Christmas Day; but it meant a great deal more than that, it meant that the sun was to come speeding back slowly to begin with, and then faster and faster until in another four months or so we should find ourselves setting out to achieve our various purposes. It meant that before another year had pa.s.sed some of us, perhaps all of us, would be back in civilisation taking up again the reins of our ordinary careers which, of necessity, would lead us to different corners of the earth. The probability was that we should never all sit down together in a peopled land, for Simpson was bound to be racing back to India with Bowers and probably Oates, whose regiment was at Mhow; Gran would away to Norway, and the other Ubdugs to Australia. One or two of us had been tempted to settle in New Zealand, and the old Antarctics amongst us knew how useless it had been to arrange those Antarctic dinners which never came off as intended.

But to return to the menu for Midwinter Day. When we sat down in the evening we were confronted with a beautiful water-colour drawing of our winter quarters, with Erebus's gray shadow looming large in the background, from the summit of which a rose-tinted smoke-cloud delicately trended northward, and, standing out from the whole picture a neatly printed tablet which proclaimed the nature of this much-looked-forward-to meal:

Consomme Seal.

Roast Beef and Yorks.h.i.+re Pudding.