Amundsen
The Norwegians reached 81° 1' S, and put up their next depot, with a half-ton of dog pemmican. Hassel, Bjaaland, and Stubberud turned for home -- with one of Amundsen's dogs, which was being chafed by a poorly-fitted harness -- while the others continued on for 83°.
March 3, 2011
March 1, 2011
Wednesday, 1 March 1911
Scott
Scott, Oates, and Gran turned out early in order to catch up with Bowers and the rest of the ponies, and struck out on ski for the forage depot a half-mile onto the Barrier southeast of Hut Point. As they approached, they saw with horror that the ice had broken up at the edge of the Barrier.
"My thoughts flew to the ponies and dogs," Scott wrote the next day, "and fearful anxieties assailed my mind. We turned to follow the sea edge and suddenly discovered a working crack. We dashed over this and slackened pace again after a quarter of a mile. Then again cracks appeared ahead and we increased pace as much as possible, not slackening again till we were in line between the Safety Camp and Castle Rock." [1]
"My orders were to push on to Hut Point over the sea-ice without delay," wrote Bowers later, "and to follow the dogs; previously I had been told to camp on the sea-ice only in case of the beasts being unable to go on. We had four pretty heavy sledges, as we were taking six weeks' man food and oil to the hut, as well as a lot of gear from the depôt, and pony food, etc. Unfortunately the dogs misunderstood their orders and, instead of piloting us, dashed off on their own. We saw them like specks in the distance in the direction of the old seal crack. Having crossed this they wheeled to the right in the direction of Cape Armitage and disappeared into a black indefinite mist, which seemed to pervade everything in that direction." [2]
Thinking that if they gave Cape Armitage a wide enough berth, they could get around to Hut Point safely, Bowers carried on with the ponies and sledges, Cherry, and Crean. "However, about a mile farther on I began to have misgivings; the cracks became too frequent to be pleasant, and although the ice was from five to ten feet thick, one does not like to see water squelching between them, as we did later. It spells motion, and motion on sea-ice means breakage." This was too much even for Bowers, and they turned back, going as far as they could with the exhausted ponies before setting up camp.
"We had only the primus with the missing cap and it took over 1 1/2 hours to heat up the water; however, we had a cup of pemmican. It was very dark, and I mistook a small bag of curry powder for the cocoa bag, and made cocoa with that, mixed with sugar; Crean drank his right down before discovering anything was wrong."
Two hours later Bowers was disturbed by a noise. Thinking that a pony had got into the oats, he went out of the tent. "I cannot describe either the scene or my feelings," he wrote, "I must leave those to your imagination. We were in the middle of a floating pack of broken-up ice. The tops of the hills were visible, but all below was thin mist and as far as the eye could see there was nothing solid; it was all broken up, and heaving up and down with the swell. Long black tongues of water were everywhere. The floe on which we were had split right under our picketing line, and cut poor Guts' wall in half." The pony had disappeared, and they were on a floe about 15 yards across, drifting to open sea.
They managed to retrieve two of the sledges from a nearby floe, before packing up their tent and the other two sledges and harnessing the ponies, and striking off across the moving ice, jumping from floe to floe, or using a sledge as a bridge across the leads, and making their way with agonizing slowness because Bowers was determined that they should not separate. A group of killer whales surfaced nearby, hunting seals in the broken-up ice.
Sea ice, both floes and brash, here in the Arctic in August 2009. [3]
Seeing a large floe that seemed to slope upwards to the Barrier's edge, they made a rush up it to find the sea between them and the Barrier open for some thirty or forty feet, filled with brash ice and killer whales. It was decided that Crean, because Cherry was too short-sighted to see and Bowers would not leave the ponies, would make a dash for help. "It was not a pleasant day that Cherry and I spent all alone there," Bowers noted later, with the sea wide open behind them, the edge of the Barrier calving as they watched, and killer whales blowing sometimes only inches away.
Fourteen hours later -- "I suppose there is no doubt we are in the devil of a hole," Cherry wrote in his diary as they waited [4] -- Crean appeared on the edge of the Barrier with Scott and Oates.
"Scott, instead of blowing me up," wrote Bowers, "was too relieved at our safety to be anything but pleased. I said: 'What about the ponies and the sledges?' He said: 'I don't care a damn about the ponies and sledges. It's you I want, and I am going to see you safe here up on the Barrier before I do anything else.'"
They dumped the gear from two of the sledges and used them as ladders to get across. Bowers was determined to rescue the ponies he had got this far, and Scott agreed, however reluctantly. "Titus [Oates] dug down a slope from the Barrier edge in the hope of getting the ponies up it. Scott knew more about ice than any of us, and realizing the danger we didn't, still wanted to abandon things. I fought for my point tooth and nail, and got him to concede one article and then another, and still the ice did not move till we had thrown and hauled up every article on to the Barrier except the two ladders and the ponies."
The shifting ice, though, kept them from getting the ponies, and they could only make camp and watch as the three ponies slowly drifted westwards. Some time later, the floe came up against a spur of the Barrier, and soon Bowers, with Cherry and Oates, was leaping across floes towards them. Cold and stiff, Punch shied at the first jump off, and went in, floundering in the brash ice. Rather than watch him be devoured by the killer whales, Oates finished him off with a pick. They got Nobby up onto the Barrier, but as he jumped between two floes, Bowers' pony Uncle Bill slipped and went in. They managed to drag him out, but, exhausted and done for, the pony could not get to his feet. "I said: 'I can't leave him to be eaten alive by those whales.' There was a pick lying up on the floe. Titus said: 'I shall be sick if I have to kill another horse like I did the last.' I had no intention that anybody should kill my own horse but myself, and getting the pick I struck where Titus told me. I made sure of my job before we ran up and jumped the opening in the Barrier, carrying a blood-stained pick-axe instead of leading the pony I had almost considered safe."
Like Wilson, reflecting upon it afterwards, Bowers felt that there was a greater hand than theirs at work. "Six hours earlier we could have walked to the hut on sound sea-ice. A few hours later we should have seen open water on arrival at the Barrier edge. The blizzard that knocked out the beasts, the death of Weary, the misunderstanding of the dogs, everything, fitted in to place us on the sea-ice during the only two hours of the whole year that we could possibly have been in such a position. Let those who believe in coincidence carry on believing. Nobody will ever convince me that there was not something more. Perhaps in the light of next year we shall see what was meant by such an apparent blow to our hopes. Certainly we shall start for the Pole with less of that foolish spirit of blatant boast and ridiculous blind self-assurance, that characterized some of us on leaving Cardiff." [5]
Looking back from six months later, Oates, though, was still bitter. "We lost 6 ponies including mine (Punch) which was a long way the best pony we had I was very upset the more so as I think he could have been saved if Scott had not been fussing to the extent he was, this pony was one of the ones drowned, the loss of the ponies was Scott's fault entirely." [6]
Notes:
[1] R.F. Scott, diary, 2 March, 1911, quoted in Scott's Last Expedition, v.1.
[2] H.R. Bowers, in a letter quoted by Apsley Cherry-Garrard in The Worst Journey in the World, ch.5.
[3] Wikimedia Commons.
[4] Apsley Cherry-Garrard, diary, 1 March 1911, quoted by Sara Wheeler in Cherry : a Life of Apsley Cherry-Garrard (New York : Modern Library, 2003, c2001), p.98.
[5] H.R. Bowers, quoted by Apsley Cherry-Garrard in The Worst Journey in the World, ch.5. Bowers not only singled out Cherry and Crean for praise in his report to Scott, but took full responsibility for underestimating the danger signs of the previous day, and for his own inexperience.
[6] L.E.G. Oates, letter?, [22 October, 1911], quoted by Sue Limb and Patrick Cordingley in Captain Oates : Soldier and Explorer (London : Batsford, c1982), p.120.
Scott, Oates, and Gran turned out early in order to catch up with Bowers and the rest of the ponies, and struck out on ski for the forage depot a half-mile onto the Barrier southeast of Hut Point. As they approached, they saw with horror that the ice had broken up at the edge of the Barrier.
"My thoughts flew to the ponies and dogs," Scott wrote the next day, "and fearful anxieties assailed my mind. We turned to follow the sea edge and suddenly discovered a working crack. We dashed over this and slackened pace again after a quarter of a mile. Then again cracks appeared ahead and we increased pace as much as possible, not slackening again till we were in line between the Safety Camp and Castle Rock." [1]
"My orders were to push on to Hut Point over the sea-ice without delay," wrote Bowers later, "and to follow the dogs; previously I had been told to camp on the sea-ice only in case of the beasts being unable to go on. We had four pretty heavy sledges, as we were taking six weeks' man food and oil to the hut, as well as a lot of gear from the depôt, and pony food, etc. Unfortunately the dogs misunderstood their orders and, instead of piloting us, dashed off on their own. We saw them like specks in the distance in the direction of the old seal crack. Having crossed this they wheeled to the right in the direction of Cape Armitage and disappeared into a black indefinite mist, which seemed to pervade everything in that direction." [2]
Thinking that if they gave Cape Armitage a wide enough berth, they could get around to Hut Point safely, Bowers carried on with the ponies and sledges, Cherry, and Crean. "However, about a mile farther on I began to have misgivings; the cracks became too frequent to be pleasant, and although the ice was from five to ten feet thick, one does not like to see water squelching between them, as we did later. It spells motion, and motion on sea-ice means breakage." This was too much even for Bowers, and they turned back, going as far as they could with the exhausted ponies before setting up camp.
"We had only the primus with the missing cap and it took over 1 1/2 hours to heat up the water; however, we had a cup of pemmican. It was very dark, and I mistook a small bag of curry powder for the cocoa bag, and made cocoa with that, mixed with sugar; Crean drank his right down before discovering anything was wrong."
Two hours later Bowers was disturbed by a noise. Thinking that a pony had got into the oats, he went out of the tent. "I cannot describe either the scene or my feelings," he wrote, "I must leave those to your imagination. We were in the middle of a floating pack of broken-up ice. The tops of the hills were visible, but all below was thin mist and as far as the eye could see there was nothing solid; it was all broken up, and heaving up and down with the swell. Long black tongues of water were everywhere. The floe on which we were had split right under our picketing line, and cut poor Guts' wall in half." The pony had disappeared, and they were on a floe about 15 yards across, drifting to open sea.
They managed to retrieve two of the sledges from a nearby floe, before packing up their tent and the other two sledges and harnessing the ponies, and striking off across the moving ice, jumping from floe to floe, or using a sledge as a bridge across the leads, and making their way with agonizing slowness because Bowers was determined that they should not separate. A group of killer whales surfaced nearby, hunting seals in the broken-up ice.
Sea ice, both floes and brash, here in the Arctic in August 2009. [3]Seeing a large floe that seemed to slope upwards to the Barrier's edge, they made a rush up it to find the sea between them and the Barrier open for some thirty or forty feet, filled with brash ice and killer whales. It was decided that Crean, because Cherry was too short-sighted to see and Bowers would not leave the ponies, would make a dash for help. "It was not a pleasant day that Cherry and I spent all alone there," Bowers noted later, with the sea wide open behind them, the edge of the Barrier calving as they watched, and killer whales blowing sometimes only inches away.
Fourteen hours later -- "I suppose there is no doubt we are in the devil of a hole," Cherry wrote in his diary as they waited [4] -- Crean appeared on the edge of the Barrier with Scott and Oates.
"Scott, instead of blowing me up," wrote Bowers, "was too relieved at our safety to be anything but pleased. I said: 'What about the ponies and the sledges?' He said: 'I don't care a damn about the ponies and sledges. It's you I want, and I am going to see you safe here up on the Barrier before I do anything else.'"
They dumped the gear from two of the sledges and used them as ladders to get across. Bowers was determined to rescue the ponies he had got this far, and Scott agreed, however reluctantly. "Titus [Oates] dug down a slope from the Barrier edge in the hope of getting the ponies up it. Scott knew more about ice than any of us, and realizing the danger we didn't, still wanted to abandon things. I fought for my point tooth and nail, and got him to concede one article and then another, and still the ice did not move till we had thrown and hauled up every article on to the Barrier except the two ladders and the ponies."
The shifting ice, though, kept them from getting the ponies, and they could only make camp and watch as the three ponies slowly drifted westwards. Some time later, the floe came up against a spur of the Barrier, and soon Bowers, with Cherry and Oates, was leaping across floes towards them. Cold and stiff, Punch shied at the first jump off, and went in, floundering in the brash ice. Rather than watch him be devoured by the killer whales, Oates finished him off with a pick. They got Nobby up onto the Barrier, but as he jumped between two floes, Bowers' pony Uncle Bill slipped and went in. They managed to drag him out, but, exhausted and done for, the pony could not get to his feet. "I said: 'I can't leave him to be eaten alive by those whales.' There was a pick lying up on the floe. Titus said: 'I shall be sick if I have to kill another horse like I did the last.' I had no intention that anybody should kill my own horse but myself, and getting the pick I struck where Titus told me. I made sure of my job before we ran up and jumped the opening in the Barrier, carrying a blood-stained pick-axe instead of leading the pony I had almost considered safe."
Like Wilson, reflecting upon it afterwards, Bowers felt that there was a greater hand than theirs at work. "Six hours earlier we could have walked to the hut on sound sea-ice. A few hours later we should have seen open water on arrival at the Barrier edge. The blizzard that knocked out the beasts, the death of Weary, the misunderstanding of the dogs, everything, fitted in to place us on the sea-ice during the only two hours of the whole year that we could possibly have been in such a position. Let those who believe in coincidence carry on believing. Nobody will ever convince me that there was not something more. Perhaps in the light of next year we shall see what was meant by such an apparent blow to our hopes. Certainly we shall start for the Pole with less of that foolish spirit of blatant boast and ridiculous blind self-assurance, that characterized some of us on leaving Cardiff." [5]
Looking back from six months later, Oates, though, was still bitter. "We lost 6 ponies including mine (Punch) which was a long way the best pony we had I was very upset the more so as I think he could have been saved if Scott had not been fussing to the extent he was, this pony was one of the ones drowned, the loss of the ponies was Scott's fault entirely." [6]
Notes:
[1] R.F. Scott, diary, 2 March, 1911, quoted in Scott's Last Expedition, v.1.
[2] H.R. Bowers, in a letter quoted by Apsley Cherry-Garrard in The Worst Journey in the World, ch.5.
[3] Wikimedia Commons.
[4] Apsley Cherry-Garrard, diary, 1 March 1911, quoted by Sara Wheeler in Cherry : a Life of Apsley Cherry-Garrard (New York : Modern Library, 2003, c2001), p.98.
[5] H.R. Bowers, quoted by Apsley Cherry-Garrard in The Worst Journey in the World, ch.5. Bowers not only singled out Cherry and Crean for praise in his report to Scott, but took full responsibility for underestimating the danger signs of the previous day, and for his own inexperience.
[6] L.E.G. Oates, letter?, [22 October, 1911], quoted by Sue Limb and Patrick Cordingley in Captain Oates : Soldier and Explorer (London : Batsford, c1982), p.120.
February 28, 2011
Tuesday, 28 February 1911
Scott
Scott, Cherry, and Crean were reunited with the others at Safety Camp. "Found everyone very cold and depressed," Scott wrote. "Wilson and Meares had had continuous bad weather since we left, Bowers and Oates since their arrival. The blizzard had raged for two days. The animals looked in a sorry condition but all were alive. The wind blew keen and cold from the east. There could be no advantage in waiting here, and soon all arrangements were made for a general shift to Hut Point." [1]
He decided to send all but one of the ponies ahead with Bowers, Crean, and Cherry, as Weary Willy was nearly done for. "We made desperate efforts to save the poor creature, got him once more on his legs and gave him a hot oat mash. Then after a wait of an hour Oates led him off, and we packed the sledge and followed on ski; 500 yards away from the camp the poor creature fell again and I felt it was the last effort. We camped, built a snow wall round him, and did all we possibly could to get him on his feet. Every effort was fruitless, though the poor thing made pitiful struggles. Towards midnight we propped him up as comfortably as we could and went to bed."
They woke in the morning to find poor Willy dead.
Notes:
[1] R.F. Scott, diary, 28 January, 1911, quoted in Scott's Last Expedition, v.1.
Scott, Cherry, and Crean were reunited with the others at Safety Camp. "Found everyone very cold and depressed," Scott wrote. "Wilson and Meares had had continuous bad weather since we left, Bowers and Oates since their arrival. The blizzard had raged for two days. The animals looked in a sorry condition but all were alive. The wind blew keen and cold from the east. There could be no advantage in waiting here, and soon all arrangements were made for a general shift to Hut Point." [1]
He decided to send all but one of the ponies ahead with Bowers, Crean, and Cherry, as Weary Willy was nearly done for. "We made desperate efforts to save the poor creature, got him once more on his legs and gave him a hot oat mash. Then after a wait of an hour Oates led him off, and we packed the sledge and followed on ski; 500 yards away from the camp the poor creature fell again and I felt it was the last effort. We camped, built a snow wall round him, and did all we possibly could to get him on his feet. Every effort was fruitless, though the poor thing made pitiful struggles. Towards midnight we propped him up as comfortably as we could and went to bed."
They woke in the morning to find poor Willy dead.
Notes:
[1] R.F. Scott, diary, 28 January, 1911, quoted in Scott's Last Expedition, v.1.
February 26, 2011
Sunday, 26 February 1911
Scott
Upon hearing the news of Amundsen, Gran wrote, "I felt as if the glacier had opened under me and a thousand thoughts rushed into my head. Was I to compete with my own compatriots, with my own flag? No, it was not pleasant to contemplate." [1]
Bowers called it "Amundsen's little game". "Trigger was so genuinely upset at the behaviour of his countryman that one could not help feeling sorry for him & the awkward position it put him." [2]
"I believe, from what I have seen," Gran went on in his diary, "that Amundsen's chances are better than ours. First, he is one degree further south than we are and, secondly, his speed is far superior to ours.... If we reach the Pole, then Amundsen will reach the Pole and weeks earlier."
Amundsen
The Norwegians reached their depot at 80° easily. This time, they had two sextants and a theodolite for an astronomic fix on their location: these gave a mean reading of 70° 59', a little over a mile (about 1.8 km) off.
Amundsen had decided on a careful marking of the depots. Ten black pennants on short sticks were laid out a half-mile on either side, making a transverse line of ten miles across their route; each pennant was marked with a number giving the distance and bearing of the depot.
Notes:
[1] Tryggve Gran, diary, 26 February, 1911, quoted in The Norwegian With Scott : Tryggve Gran's Antarctic Diary 1910-1913 ([Greenwich] : National Maritime Museum, 1984), p.63.
[2] H.R. Bowers, undated letter, quoted by Roland Huntford in Scott and Amundsen (New York : Putnam, 1980, c1979), p.369-370.
Upon hearing the news of Amundsen, Gran wrote, "I felt as if the glacier had opened under me and a thousand thoughts rushed into my head. Was I to compete with my own compatriots, with my own flag? No, it was not pleasant to contemplate." [1]
Bowers called it "Amundsen's little game". "Trigger was so genuinely upset at the behaviour of his countryman that one could not help feeling sorry for him & the awkward position it put him." [2]
"I believe, from what I have seen," Gran went on in his diary, "that Amundsen's chances are better than ours. First, he is one degree further south than we are and, secondly, his speed is far superior to ours.... If we reach the Pole, then Amundsen will reach the Pole and weeks earlier."
Amundsen
The Norwegians reached their depot at 80° easily. This time, they had two sextants and a theodolite for an astronomic fix on their location: these gave a mean reading of 70° 59', a little over a mile (about 1.8 km) off.
Amundsen had decided on a careful marking of the depots. Ten black pennants on short sticks were laid out a half-mile on either side, making a transverse line of ten miles across their route; each pennant was marked with a number giving the distance and bearing of the depot.
Notes:
[1] Tryggve Gran, diary, 26 February, 1911, quoted in The Norwegian With Scott : Tryggve Gran's Antarctic Diary 1910-1913 ([Greenwich] : National Maritime Museum, 1984), p.63.
[2] H.R. Bowers, undated letter, quoted by Roland Huntford in Scott and Amundsen (New York : Putnam, 1980, c1979), p.369-370.
February 25, 2011
Saturday, 25 February 1911
Scott
"Except for our tent the camp routine is slack," wrote Scott. "Shall have to tell people that we are out on business, not picnicking." [1] They had sighted the pony party in the distance, heading north, and so they depoted another six weeks' provisions at Corner Camp, and turned back to catch them up. The next day, an unexpected blizzard confined them to their tent.
Oates, Bowers, and Gran got in to Safety Camp, where they too heard the news of Amundsen. "More of this tomorrow," Gran wrote in his diary, "I am too astonished to write now." [2]
Notes:
[1] R.F. Scott, diary, 26 February, 1911, quoted in Scott's Last Expedition, v.1.
[2] Tryggve Gran, diary, 25 February, 1911, quoted in The Norwegian With Scott : Tryggve Gran's Antarctic Diary 1910-1913 ([Greenwich] : National Maritime Museum, 1984), p.62.
"Except for our tent the camp routine is slack," wrote Scott. "Shall have to tell people that we are out on business, not picnicking." [1] They had sighted the pony party in the distance, heading north, and so they depoted another six weeks' provisions at Corner Camp, and turned back to catch them up. The next day, an unexpected blizzard confined them to their tent.
Oates, Bowers, and Gran got in to Safety Camp, where they too heard the news of Amundsen. "More of this tomorrow," Gran wrote in his diary, "I am too astonished to write now." [2]
Notes:
[1] R.F. Scott, diary, 26 February, 1911, quoted in Scott's Last Expedition, v.1.
[2] Tryggve Gran, diary, 25 February, 1911, quoted in The Norwegian With Scott : Tryggve Gran's Antarctic Diary 1910-1913 ([Greenwich] : National Maritime Museum, 1984), p.62.
February 24, 2011
Friday, 24 February 1911
Scott
Mounts Erebus (on the left) and Terror, with the Hut Point peninsula in the foreground, ca.2005. [1] The peaks were visible for a while as the party made their way to Corner Camp.
Scott decided to take a party out to depot further supplies at Corner Camp and to meet Bowers' party returning with the ponies. "Roused out at 6. Started marching at 9. Self, Crean, and Cherry-Garrard one sledge and tent; Evans, Atkinson, Forde, second sledge and tent; Keohane leading his pony. We pulled on ski in the forenoon; the second sledge couldn't keep up, so we changed about for half the march. In the afternoon we pulled on foot. On the whole I thought the labour greater on foot, so did Crean, showing the advantage of experience."
"There is no doubt," he added, "that very long days' work could be done by men in hard condition on ski."
Notes:
[1] Wikipedia.
[2] R.F. Scott, diary, 24 February, 1911, quoted in Scott's Last Expedition, v.1.
Mounts Erebus (on the left) and Terror, with the Hut Point peninsula in the foreground, ca.2005. [1] The peaks were visible for a while as the party made their way to Corner Camp.Scott decided to take a party out to depot further supplies at Corner Camp and to meet Bowers' party returning with the ponies. "Roused out at 6. Started marching at 9. Self, Crean, and Cherry-Garrard one sledge and tent; Evans, Atkinson, Forde, second sledge and tent; Keohane leading his pony. We pulled on ski in the forenoon; the second sledge couldn't keep up, so we changed about for half the march. In the afternoon we pulled on foot. On the whole I thought the labour greater on foot, so did Crean, showing the advantage of experience."
"There is no doubt," he added, "that very long days' work could be done by men in hard condition on ski."
Notes:
[1] Wikipedia.
[2] R.F. Scott, diary, 24 February, 1911, quoted in Scott's Last Expedition, v.1.
February 23, 2011
Thursday, 23 February 1911
Scott
In the morning, "Scott jumped out of his bag," Cherry wrote in his diary, "& said, 'By Jove, what a chance we have missed -- we might have taken Amundsen & sent him back in the ship.' Bill [Wilson] very strong against any such idea -- [I] in sympathy -- at present Scott in right, Amundsen in wrong -- Scott argued there was no law down here & we know A. is acting against the wishes of his king." [1]
Cherry wrote years later, "Such a mood could not and did not bear a moment's reflection; but it was natural enough. We had just paid the first instalment of the heart-breaking labour of making a path to the Pole; and we felt, however unreasonably, that we had earned the first right of way. Our sense of co-operation and solidarity had been wrought up to an extraordinary pitch; and we had so completely forgotten the spirit of competition that its sudden intrusion jarred frightfully. I do not defend our burst of rage -- for such it was -- I simply record it as an integral human part of my narrative." [2]
Amundsen
Conditions on the second depot-laying journey were different from a week earlier.
"Prestrud," Johansen wrote, "who goes loose and unhindered in front on ski was impatient and bad tempered because he could not get into the tent and begin cooking. 'They began cooking in the other tent long ago,' he said. I had to inform him that not all dogs are equally good, and some have to be behind. There is nothing to be done about it. It is the heaviest job to come behind with the less good dogs. And when I finally arrive -- he creeps into the tent and begins cooking, but I've got to finish feeding my dogs, and arranging sledges, harnesses etc. and take in [sleeping] bags and clothes. When everything is in order, Amundsen and Hassel come in, and we creep together and eat our pemmican -- It is silent in the tent. We have not exchanged a word since our quarrel." [3]
Notes:
[1] Apsley Cherry-Garrard, diary, 24 February, 1911, quoted by Roland Huntford in Scott and Amundsen (New York : Putnam, 1980, c1979), p.368.
[2] Apsley Cherry-Garrard, The Worst Journey in the World, ch.5.
[3] Hjalmar Johansen, diary, 24 February, 1911, quoted by Roland Huntford in Scott and Amundsen (New York : Putnam, 1980, c1979), p.351.
In the morning, "Scott jumped out of his bag," Cherry wrote in his diary, "& said, 'By Jove, what a chance we have missed -- we might have taken Amundsen & sent him back in the ship.' Bill [Wilson] very strong against any such idea -- [I] in sympathy -- at present Scott in right, Amundsen in wrong -- Scott argued there was no law down here & we know A. is acting against the wishes of his king." [1]
Cherry wrote years later, "Such a mood could not and did not bear a moment's reflection; but it was natural enough. We had just paid the first instalment of the heart-breaking labour of making a path to the Pole; and we felt, however unreasonably, that we had earned the first right of way. Our sense of co-operation and solidarity had been wrought up to an extraordinary pitch; and we had so completely forgotten the spirit of competition that its sudden intrusion jarred frightfully. I do not defend our burst of rage -- for such it was -- I simply record it as an integral human part of my narrative." [2]
Amundsen
Conditions on the second depot-laying journey were different from a week earlier.
"Prestrud," Johansen wrote, "who goes loose and unhindered in front on ski was impatient and bad tempered because he could not get into the tent and begin cooking. 'They began cooking in the other tent long ago,' he said. I had to inform him that not all dogs are equally good, and some have to be behind. There is nothing to be done about it. It is the heaviest job to come behind with the less good dogs. And when I finally arrive -- he creeps into the tent and begins cooking, but I've got to finish feeding my dogs, and arranging sledges, harnesses etc. and take in [sleeping] bags and clothes. When everything is in order, Amundsen and Hassel come in, and we creep together and eat our pemmican -- It is silent in the tent. We have not exchanged a word since our quarrel." [3]
Notes:
[1] Apsley Cherry-Garrard, diary, 24 February, 1911, quoted by Roland Huntford in Scott and Amundsen (New York : Putnam, 1980, c1979), p.368.
[2] Apsley Cherry-Garrard, The Worst Journey in the World, ch.5.
[3] Hjalmar Johansen, diary, 24 February, 1911, quoted by Roland Huntford in Scott and Amundsen (New York : Putnam, 1980, c1979), p.351.
February 22, 2011
Wednesday, 22 February 1911
Scott
Scott arrived back at Safety Camp, a journey of five days with the dogs, compared to the three-weeks' distance with the ponies.
"The dogs are as thin as rakes; they are ravenous and very tired," he wrote in his journal. "I feel this should not be, and that it is evident that they are underfed. The rations must be increased next year and we must have some properly thought-out diet. The biscuit alone is not good enough. Meares is excellent to a point but a little pig-headed & quite ignorant of the conditions here. One thing is certain, the dogs will never continue to drag heavy loads with men sitting on the sledges; we must all learn to run with the teams and the Russian custom must be dropped. Meares, I think, rather imagined himself racing to the Pole and back on a dog sledge. This journey has opened his eyes a good deal." [1]
Lt. Evans was waiting for them with the one remaining pony; two of the three he had turn back with had died along the way.
In the evening, a party arrived from the Discovery hut with Campbell's news of Amundsen.
"For many hours," wrote Cherry, who was in Scott's tent, "Scott could think of nothing else nor talk of anything else. Evidently a great shock for him -- he thinks it very unsporting since our plans for landing a party there [at King Edward VII Land] were known." [2]
"That the action is outside one's own code of honour is not necessarily to condemn it and under no condition will I be betrayed into a public expression of opinion," Scott wrote. "One thing only fixes itself definitely in my mind. The proper, as well as the wiser, course, for us is to proceed exactly as though this had not happened. To go forward and do our best for the honour of ht country without fear or panic."
"There is no doubt that Amundsen's plan is a very serious menace to ours. He has a shorter distance to the Pole by 60 miles -- I never thought he could have got so many dogs safely to the ice. His plan for running them seems excellent. But above and beyond all he can start his journey early in the season -- an impossible condition with ponies." [3]
"As for Amundsen's prospects of reaching the Pole," Wilson mused in his diary, "I don't think they are very good for I don't think his dogs -- though he has so large a number, 116, and good drivers with lots of experience -- I don't think he knows how bad an effect the monotony and the hard travelling surface of the Barrier is to animals. Another mistake he seems to have made is in building his hut on sea ice below the Barrier surface instead of on the Barrier itself. It will be a fortunate thing for him if the whole hut doesn't float out into Ross Sea. There are 8 in his party. However, he may be fortunate and his dogs may be a success, in which case he will probably reach the Pole this year, earlier than we can, for not only will he travel much faster with dogs and expert ski runners than we shall with ponies, but he will be able also to start earlier than we can as we don't want to expose the ponies to any October temperatures." [4]
Notes:
[1] R.F. Scott, diary, 22 February, 1911, quoted by David Crane in Scott of the Antarctic (New York : Knopf, c2005), p.420-421.
[2] Apsley Cherry-Garrard, diary, 24 February, 1911, quoted by Roland Huntford in Scott and Amundsen (New York : Putnam, 1980, c1979), p.367-368.
[3] R.F. Scott, diary, 22 February, 1911, quoted by Roland Huntford in Scott and Amundsen (New York : Putnam, 1980, c1979), p.368.
[4] E.A. Wilson, diary, 22 February, 1911, in Diary of the Terra Nova Expedition to the Antarctic, 1910-1912 (London : Blandford, 1972), p.107.
Scott arrived back at Safety Camp, a journey of five days with the dogs, compared to the three-weeks' distance with the ponies.
"The dogs are as thin as rakes; they are ravenous and very tired," he wrote in his journal. "I feel this should not be, and that it is evident that they are underfed. The rations must be increased next year and we must have some properly thought-out diet. The biscuit alone is not good enough. Meares is excellent to a point but a little pig-headed & quite ignorant of the conditions here. One thing is certain, the dogs will never continue to drag heavy loads with men sitting on the sledges; we must all learn to run with the teams and the Russian custom must be dropped. Meares, I think, rather imagined himself racing to the Pole and back on a dog sledge. This journey has opened his eyes a good deal." [1]
Lt. Evans was waiting for them with the one remaining pony; two of the three he had turn back with had died along the way.
In the evening, a party arrived from the Discovery hut with Campbell's news of Amundsen.
"For many hours," wrote Cherry, who was in Scott's tent, "Scott could think of nothing else nor talk of anything else. Evidently a great shock for him -- he thinks it very unsporting since our plans for landing a party there [at King Edward VII Land] were known." [2]
"That the action is outside one's own code of honour is not necessarily to condemn it and under no condition will I be betrayed into a public expression of opinion," Scott wrote. "One thing only fixes itself definitely in my mind. The proper, as well as the wiser, course, for us is to proceed exactly as though this had not happened. To go forward and do our best for the honour of ht country without fear or panic."
"There is no doubt that Amundsen's plan is a very serious menace to ours. He has a shorter distance to the Pole by 60 miles -- I never thought he could have got so many dogs safely to the ice. His plan for running them seems excellent. But above and beyond all he can start his journey early in the season -- an impossible condition with ponies." [3]
"As for Amundsen's prospects of reaching the Pole," Wilson mused in his diary, "I don't think they are very good for I don't think his dogs -- though he has so large a number, 116, and good drivers with lots of experience -- I don't think he knows how bad an effect the monotony and the hard travelling surface of the Barrier is to animals. Another mistake he seems to have made is in building his hut on sea ice below the Barrier surface instead of on the Barrier itself. It will be a fortunate thing for him if the whole hut doesn't float out into Ross Sea. There are 8 in his party. However, he may be fortunate and his dogs may be a success, in which case he will probably reach the Pole this year, earlier than we can, for not only will he travel much faster with dogs and expert ski runners than we shall with ponies, but he will be able also to start earlier than we can as we don't want to expose the ponies to any October temperatures." [4]
Notes:
[1] R.F. Scott, diary, 22 February, 1911, quoted by David Crane in Scott of the Antarctic (New York : Knopf, c2005), p.420-421.
[2] Apsley Cherry-Garrard, diary, 24 February, 1911, quoted by Roland Huntford in Scott and Amundsen (New York : Putnam, 1980, c1979), p.367-368.
[3] R.F. Scott, diary, 22 February, 1911, quoted by Roland Huntford in Scott and Amundsen (New York : Putnam, 1980, c1979), p.368.
[4] E.A. Wilson, diary, 22 February, 1911, in Diary of the Terra Nova Expedition to the Antarctic, 1910-1912 (London : Blandford, 1972), p.107.
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