Friday, 15 November 1912

Scott

A commemorative card with an illustration of Oates's memorial, 1913. [1]

The search party went on to look for Oates, but found only his sleeping bag a few miles away. They put up another cairn and cross, which was marked "Hereabouts died a very gallant gentleman, Capt. L.E.G. Oates, of the Inniskilling Dragoons."

Amundsen's letter to King Haakon, left at Polheim 17th December 1911, and collected by Scott a month later. [2]

Back at what Williamson called "Sorrowful Camp", he and Gran found by chance a bag containing Amundsen's letter to King Haakon, among the debris on Scott's sledge.

Cherry, knowing now that Scott and his party had been only sixty miles away when he and Dimitri had waited for them at One Ton, was haunted by self-recrimination. "If only we had travelled for a day and a half," he wrote in his diary, "we might have left some food and oil on one of the cairns, hoping that they would see it.... It will always to the end of my life be a great sorrow to me that we did not do this." [3]


Amundsen

One of Amundsen's receptions, at an unidentified location. [4]

Amundsen lectured on his attainment of the South Pole at the Queen's Hall, London. Kathleen Scott was present; his photographs, she thought, "were very poor, & many of them faked -- painted etc." [5] (In the days before colour photography, prints and lantern slides were frequently touched up by hand.)

A Bristol schoolgirl who also attended one of Amundsen's lectures wrote in her diary, "Amundsen had a simply killing Norwegian accent. And we had to consentrate [sic] for all we were worth to be able to understand what he said. [The slides were] mostly coloured and simply lovely.... Amundsen told us that many people asked what was the use of trying to get to the S. Pole etc. The man said with the utmost scorn, 'Little minds have only room for thoughts of bread & butter.'" [6]


Notes:

[1] Dundee Heritage Trust.
[2] Source unknown.
[3] Apsley Cherry-Garrard, diary, 15 November, 1912, quoted by Roland Huntford in Scott and Amundsen (New York : Putnam, 1980, c1979), p.556.
[4] Roald Amundsen Bildearkiv, Nasjonalbiblioteket.
[5] Kathleen Scott, [source not given] quoted by Roland Huntford in The Amundsen Photographs (London : Hodder & Stoughton, c1987), p.8. In Mrs Scott's defence, it is difficult at times not to compare Ponting's brilliant photographs with the rather indifferent ones from Amundsen's expedition.
[6] Quoted by Roland Huntford in The Amundsen Photographs (London : Hodder & Stoughton, c1987), p.7.

Thursday, 4 April 1912

Scott

Cherry, beginning what would turn out to be years of personal struggle to come to terms with his grief at the loss of his friends and Captain Scott, replayed in his diary the last few hours before he had turned back at the top of the Beardmore that day in December, leaving the Polar party to go on.

"Atch tells me that Bill discussed the health of those going on with him the last morning on the top. Titus they agreed on as being very done: Bill said Scott was keen on his going on, he wanted the Army represented, but Atch who went to see Titus in his tent did not think T. wanted to go on, though he (T.) did not actually say so. He thinks Titus knew he was done -- his face showed him to be so, & the way he went along. Birdie & Evans they also agreed on as being done. This has been confirmed. Lashley told Atch that they both looked very bad on the Plateau. Bill thought Crean was also, but Atch did not agree."


Notes:

[1] Apsley Cherry-Garrard, diary, 4 April 1912, Scott Polar Research Institute.

Sunday, 17 March 1912

Scott

"Lost track of dates, but think the last correct," Scott wrote. "Tragedy all along the line. At lunch, the day before yesterday, poor Titus Oates said he couldn't go on; he proposed we should leave him in his sleeping-bag. That we could not do, and induced him to come on, on the afternoon march. In spite of its awful nature for him he struggled on and we made a few miles. At night he was worse and we knew the end had come."

"Should this be found I want these facts recorded. Oates' last thoughts were of his Mother, but immediately before he took pride in thinking that his regiment would be pleased with the bold way in which he met his death. We can testify to his bravery. He has borne intense suffering for weeks without complaint, and to the very last was able and willing to discuss outside subjects. He did not -- would not -- give up hope to the very end. He was a brave soul. This was the end. He slept through the night before last, hoping not to wake; but he woke in the morning -- yesterday. It was blowing a blizzard. He said, 'I am just going outside and may be some time.' He went out into the blizzard and we have not seen him since." [1]

"I can only write at lunch and then only occasionally. The cold is intense, -40° at midday. My companions are unendingly cheerful, but we are all on the verge of serious frostbites, and though we constantly talk of fetching through I don't think anyone of us believes it in his heart."

"We are cold on the march now, and at all times except meals. Yesterday we had to lay up for a blizzard and to-day we move dreadfully slowly. We are at No. 14 pony camp, only two pony marches from One Ton Depôt. We leave here our theodolite, a camera, and Oates' sleeping-bags. Diaries, &c., and geological specimens carried at Wilson's special request, will be found with us or on our sledge."

On the return from One Ton, Dimitri had begun complaining that he was feeling ill, with first a headache, then a bad right arm and side so that he could hardly work. Back at Hut Point, he recovered almost immediately upon their arrival, to the astonishment of Cherry, who was on the verge of a nervous breakdown himself, from worry over Scott and especially his own companions on the Winter Journey, Wilson and Bowers. "Dimitri is quite well. It is sad that he has really been shamming ill," Cherry wrote bitterly in his diary, "it has made the last journey very bad & it is all rather disgraceful. He just hasn't got the guts." [2]


Notes:

[1] R.F. Scott, diary, 16 or 17 March, 1912, quoted in Scott's Last Expedition, v.1. It is not completely clear why, if in fact Oates did say something before he left the tent, Wilson did not relay these last words to Mrs Oates.
[2] Apsley Cherry-Garrard, diary, 17 March 1912. Scott Polar Research Institute.

Tuesday, 12 March 1912

Scott

"Things are left much the same," Scott wrote, "Oates not pulling much, and now with hands as well as feet pretty well useless. We did 4 miles this morning in 4 hours 20 min. -- we may hope for 3 this afternoon, 7 × 6 = 42. We shall be 47 miles from the depot. I doubt if we can possibly do it. The surface remains awful, the cold intense, and our physical condition running down. God help us! Not a breath of favourable wind for more than a week, and apparently liable to head winds at any moment." [1]


Notes:

[1] R.F. Scott, diary, 12 March, 1912, quoted in Scott's Last Expedition, v.1.

Monday, 11 March 1912

Scott

"Titus Oates is very near the end, one feels," Scott wrote. "What we or he will do, God only knows. We discussed the matter after breakfast; he is a brave fine fellow and understands the situation, but he practically asked for advice. Nothing could be said but to urge him to march as long as he could. One satisfactory result to the discussion; I practically ordered Wilson to hand over the means of ending our troubles to us, so that anyone of us may know how to do so. Wilson had no choice between doing so and our ransacking the medicine case. We have 30 opium tabloids apiece and he is left with a tube of morphine. So far the tragical side of our story." [1]

"The sky completely overcast when we started this morning. We could see nothing, lost the tracks, and doubtless have been swaying a good deal since -- 3.1 miles for the forenoon -- terribly heavy dragging -- expected it. Know that 6 miles is about the limit of our endurance now, if we get no help from wind or surfaces. We have 7 days' food and should be about 55 miles from One Ton Camp to-night, 6 × 7 = 42, leaving us 13 miles short of our distance, even if things get no worse."


Amundsen

The Daily Chronicle published a letter from Nansen defending Amundsen. "[He] had set his course, as he had determined, and without looking back.... It was foggy day after day, week after week -- the charitable fog of mediocrities in which all that is high and great is shrouded, when all at once ... a new message came. Men stop, look up, and there, high above them shines a deed, a man.... It is unique as a deed, as a voyage of discovery, and in results; and told so simply, as if it were of an Easter pleasure trip on the mountains. And yet what does it not convey of a sage, well-laid plan, and splendid execution of determined courage, endurance and manly power!" [2]


Notes:

[1] R.F. Scott, diary, 11 March, 1912, quoted in Scott's Last Expedition, v.1.
[2] Daily Chronicle, 11 March, 1912, quoted by Roland Huntford in Scott and Amundsen (New York : Putnam, 1980, c1979), p.547-548.

Sunday, 10 March 1912

Scott

"Things steadily downhill," Scott wrote. "Oates' foot worse. He has rare pluck and must know that he can never get through. He asked Wilson if he had a chance this morning, and of course Bill had to say he didn't know. In point of fact he has none. Apart from him, if he went under now, I doubt whether we could get through. With great care we might have a dog's chance, but no more. The weather conditions are awful, and our gear gets steadily more icy and difficult to manage. At the same time of course poor Titus is the greatest handicap. He keeps us waiting in the morning until we have partly lost the warming effect of our good breakfast, when the only wise policy is to be up and away at once; again at lunch. Poor chap! it is too pathetic to watch him; one cannot but try to cheer him up." [1]

"Yesterday we marched up the depot, Mt. Hooper. Cold comfort. Shortage on our allowance all round." Having had Meares and the dogs go further than planned in November, and the last-minute decision to take five men to the pole instead of four, had meant that the returning parties passing the depot earlier had been forced to break into rations and redistribute them; Scott seemed now not to remember this, and wrote in his diary, "I don't know that anyone is to blame -- but generosity & thoughtfulness have not been abundant -- The dogs which would have been our salvation have evidently failed. Meares had a bad trip home I suppose. -- It's a miserable jumble."

With no sign of the Polar party at One Ton, Cherry-Garrard and Dimitri turned back for Cape Evans.


Notes:

[1] R.F. Scott, diary, 10 March, 1912, quoted by Roland Huntford in Race for the South Pole : the expedition diaries of Scott and Amundsen (London : Continuum, c2010), p.292. The two asides in the second paragraph quoted here -- "generosity & thoughtfulness have not been abundant" and "It's a miserable jumble" -- were deleted from the published edition of Scott's diary.

Thursday, 7 March 1912

Scott

"This morning in 4 1/2 hours," wrote Scott, "we did just over 4 miles. We are 16 from our depot. If we only find the correct proportion of food there and this surface continues, we may get to the next depot [Mt. Hooper, 72 miles farther] but not to One Ton Camp. We hope against hope that the dogs have been to Mt. Hooper; then we might pull through. If there is a shortage of oil again we can have little hope. One feels that for poor Oates the crisis is near, but none of us are improving, though we are wonderfully fit considering the really excessive work we are doing." [1]


Amundsen

"'The Fram' at Hobart, Tasmania, from South Pole, 1912." [2]

The Fram put in at Hobart, after having sighted land three days earlier and been held off by storm. The first thing that Amundsen asked about was news of the Terra Nova, and was cheered when he was told that she had not been heard of.

Having learned a hard lesson on the Northwest Passage, losing his newspaper scoop and the resulting funds to cover his debts, Amundsen himself did not even know with which newspaper his brother Leon had contracted, and the Fram remained at anchor outside Hobart and refused to identify herself. Amundsen, he wrote in his diary, went ashore alone and "got a room at the Orient Hotel -- Treated as a tramp -- my peaked cap and blue sweater -- given a miserable little room.... Visited the Consul.... Then I cabled to the King ... Nansen and Leon. The day passed quietly, except for reporters, who were insistent but without result." [3]

The next day, Amundsen "received a telegram from Leon, instructing me to cable my report to the Daily Chronicle, London. This was immediately done. After that, I kept very quiet. When I had gone to bed -- 10 p.m. -- the telegrams began to rain down -- the King's came first."


Notes:

[1] R.F. Scott, diary, 7 March, 1912, quoted in Scott's Last Expedition, v.1.
[2] "Tasmanian views, Edward Searle's album of photographs of Australia, Antarctica and the Pacific, 1911-1915", National Library of Australia.
[3] Roald Amundsen, diary, [date not given], quoted by Roland Huntford in The Amundsen Photographs (London : Hodder & Stoughton, c1987, p.142.

Wednesday, 6 March 1912

Scott

Oates's feet were so swollen that it took an hour to get them into his finnesko each morning.

They were now struggling nine or more hours to manage six or seven miles a day.

"Poor Oates is unable to pull, sits on the sledge when we are track-searching -- he is wonderfully plucky, as his feet must be giving him great pain. He makes no complaint, but his spirits only come up in spurts now, and he grows more silent in the tent. We are making a spirit lamp to try and replace the primus when our oil is exhausted. It will be a very poor substitute and we've not got much spirit. If we could have kept up our 9-mile days we might have got within reasonable distance of the depot before running out, but nothing but a strong wind and good surface can help us now, and though we had quite a good breeze this morning, the sledge came as heavy as lead. If we were all fit I should have hopes of getting through, but the poor Soldier has become a terrible hindrance, though he does his utmost and suffers much I fear." [1]


Notes:

[1] R.F. Scott, diary, 6 March, 1912, quoted in Scott's Last Expedition, v.1.

Tuesday, 5 March 1912

Scott

"Regret to say going from bad to worse," Scott wrote at lunchtime. "The result is telling on all, but mainly on Oates, whose feet are in a wretched condition. One swelled up tremendously last night and he is very lame this morning. We started march on tea and [cold] pemmican as last night -- we pretend to prefer the pemmican this way. Marched for 5 hours this morning over a slightly better surface covered with high moundy sastrugi. Sledge capsized twice; we pulled on foot, covering about 5 1/2 miles. We are two pony marches and 4 miles about from our depot. Our fuel dreadfully low and the poor Soldier nearly done. It is pathetic enough because we can do nothing for him; more hot food might do a little, but only a little, I fear. We none of us expected these terribly low temperatures." [1]


Amundsen

Having sighted the coast of Tasmania the previous day, the Fram was held off by bad weather. "It was a stinking job to get in to Hobart," Bjaaland wrote in his diary. "Storm and calm followed each other, and when we finally were at the approaches to our goal, so God help me we were blown past, the result being we had to lay to in a storm with torn sail and splintered gaff." [2]


Notes:

[1] R.F. Scott, diary, 5 March, 1912, quoted in Scott's Last Expedition, v.1.
[2] Olav Bjaaland, diary, 5 March, 1912, quoted by Roland Huntford in Scott and Amundsen (New York : Putnam, 1980, c1979), p.531.

Saturday, 2 March 1912

Scott

"Misfortunes rarely come singly." At the Middle Barrier Depot, at 81° 35', they again found a mysterious shortage of oil. "Titus Oates disclosed his feet," wrote Scott, "the toes showing very bad indeed, evidently bitten by the late temperatures. The third blow came in the night, when the wind, which we had hailed with some joy, brought dark overcast weather. It fell below -40° in the night, and this morning it took 1 1/2 hours to get our foot gear on, but we got away before eight. We lost cairn and tracks together and made as steady as we could N. by W., but have seen nothing.... In spite of strong wind and full sail we have only done 5 1/2 miles. We are in a very queer street since there is no doubt we cannot do the extra marches and feel the cold horribly." [1]


Notes:

[1] R.F. Scott, diary, 2 March, 1912, quoted in Scott's Last Expedition, v.1.

Saturday, 24 February 1912

Scott

They reached the Southern Barrier Depot, Scott wrote, and "[found the] store in order except shortage oil -- shall have to be very saving with fuel -- otherwise have ten full days' provision from to-night and shall have less than 70 miles to go." [1]

Notes from Meares, Atkinson, and Teddy Evans relieved their anxiety as to the supporting parties, although the one from Evans was "not very cheerful," Scott added. "Think he must have been a little anxious."

"There is no doubt we have been rising steadily since leaving the Shambles Camp. The coastal Barrier descends except where glaciers press out. Undulation still but flattening out. Surface soft on top, curiously hard below. Great difference now between night and day temperatures. Quite warm as I write in tent. We are on tracks with half-march cairn ahead; have covered 4 1/2 miles. Poor Wilson has a fearful attack snow-blindness consequent on yesterday's efforts. Wish we had more fuel."

That evening, in a temperature that had dropped to -17°, he wrote, "A little despondent again. We had a really terrible surface this afternoon and only covered 4 miles. We are on the track just beyond a lunch cairn. It really will be a bad business if we are to have this pulling all through. I don't know what to think, but the rapid closing of the season is ominous. It is great luck having the horsemeat to add to our ration. To-night we have had a real fine 'hoosh.' It is a race between the season and hard conditions and our fitness and good food."

Oates wrote his last diary entry.

"I'm right in it," Cherry wrote at Hut Point, "to take 2 dog teams out to meet Scott. Crean & Dimitri got in yesterday 12 noon with the news of Evans very bad with scurvy, dogs not started, & Silas or I was to take them out. Atch must stop with Evans here at Hut Point. Left C. Evans with Silas & D. [sic] at 2 pm. & got over without difficulty. Ice good & got outside Big Razorback. Atch settled I was to go." He was hampered by short-sightedness, had never driven dogs before and could not navigate. He nervously filled the front of his diary with notes to himself on the use of a compass, minute details on the Polar Party's estimated arrival dates, and the course from landmark to landmark. "Dimitri & other dog team came in this morning & I have spent the day in navigation, weights & dog training. Start tomorrow if possible, dogs had to rest today but now blizzing a bit. Of course I feel doubtful about my navigation, but what one can do one can do & Scott is not depending on the dog teams. I think he may be in to One Ton by the 30th & if so the dogs now can do little or nothing." [2]


Notes:

[1] R.F. Scott, diary, 24 February, 1912, quoted in Scott's Last Expedition, v.1.
[2] Apsley Cherry-Garrard, diary, 24 February, 1912, Scott Polar Research Institute. In a letter home of 26 October 1911, Scott had written, "'Cherry' has just come to me with a very anxious face to say that I must not count on his navigating powers. For the moment I didn't know what he was driving at, but then I remembered that some months ago I said that it would be a good thing for all the officers going South to have some knowledge of navigation so that in emergency they would know how to steer a sledge home. It appears that 'Cherry' thereupon commenced aserious and arduous course of study of abstruse navigational problems which he found exceedingly tough and now despaired mastering. Of course there is not one chance in a hundred that he will ever have to consider navigation on our journey and in that one chance the problem must be of the simplest nature, but it makes matters much easier for me to have men who take the details of one's work so seriously and who strive so simply and honestly to make it successful" (quoted in Scott's Last Expedition, v.1).

Saturday, 17 February 1912

Scott

P.O. Evans seemed a little better in the morning, and got into his harness but could not pull. "He asked Bowers to lend him a piece of string," Scott wrote. "I cautioned him to come on as quickly as he could, and he answered cheerfully as I thought. We had to push on, and the remainder of us were forced to pull very hard, sweating heavily. Abreast the Monument Rock we stopped, and seeing Evans a long way astern, I camped for lunch. There was no alarm at first." [1]

Oates recorded in his diary, "After lunch, as Evans was not up, we went back on ski for him, Scott and I leading and we found him on his hands and knees in the snow in a most pitiable condition." Evans said that he thought he must have fainted. "He was unable to walk, and the other three went back for the empty sledge and we brought him into the tent where he died at 12.30 a.m." [2]

"On discussing the symptoms," Scott went on, "we think he began to get weaker just before we reached the Pole, and that his downward path was accelerated first by the shock of his frostbitten fingers, and later by falls during rough travelling on the glacier, further by his loss of all confidence in himself. Wilson thinks it certain he must have injured his brain by a fall. It is a terrible thing to lose a companion in this way, but calm reflection shows that there could not have been a better ending to the terrible anxieties of the past week. Discussion of the situation at lunch yesterday shows us what a desperate pass we were in with a sick man on our hands at such a distance from home."


Notes:

[1] R.F. Scott, diary, 17 February, 1912, quoted in Scott's Last Expedition, v.1.
[2] L.E.G. Oates, diary, 17 February, 1912, quoted by Sue Limb and Patrick Cordingly in Captain Oates, Soldier and Explorer (London : Batsford, 1982), p.159.

Friday, 16 February 1912

Scott

"Evans has nearly broken down in brain, we think," wrote Scott. "He is absolutely changed from his normal self-reliant self." [1]

Oates brusquely noted, "Camp at 8.15 owing to poor Evans having a partial collapse. He first had to get out of his harness and hold on to the sledge and later he said he could not get on. If he does not get by tomorrow God knows how we are going to get him home. We could not possibly carry him on the sledge." [2]

Wilson, more charitably, thought that Evans' collapse "had much to do with the fact that he has never been sick in his life and is now helpless with his hands frost-bitten." [3]


Notes:

[1] R.F. Scott, diary, 16 February, 1912, quoted in Scott's Last Expedition, v.1.
[2] L.E.G. Oates, diary, 16 February, 1912, quoted by Sue Limb and Patrick Cordingly in Captain Oates, Soldier and Explorer (London : Batsford, 1982), p.158.
[2] E.A. Wilson, diary, 16 February, 1912, quoted by Roland Huntford in Scott and Amundsen (New York : Putnam, 1980, c1979), p.534.

Thursday, 15 February 1912

Scott

"Again we are running short of provision," wrote Scott. "We don't know our distance from the depot, but imagine about 20 miles. Heavy march -- did 13 3/4 (geo.). We are pulling for food and not very strong evidently. In the afternoon it was overcast; land blotted out for a considerable interval. We have reduced food, also sleep; feeling rather done. Trust 1 1/2 days or 2 at most will see us at depot." [1]

Oates noted equally tersely, "Evans is quite worn out with the work and how he is going to do the 400 odd miles we have still to do I don't know." [2]

The Terra Nova left to collect Debenham's Second Western Party at Granite Harbour on the western side of McMurdo Sound, and four days later headed north for Terra Nova Bay.


Notes:

[1] R.F. Scott, diary, 15 February, 1912, quoted in Scott's Last Expedition, v.1.
[2] L.E.G. Oates, diary, 15 February, 1912, quoted by Sue Limb and Patrick Cordingly in Captain Oates, Soldier and Explorer (London : Batsford, 1982), p.158.

Monday, 12 February 1912

Scott

"We are in a rather nasty hole tonight," wrote Oates in his diary. "Got among bad crevasses and pressure, all blue ice. We struggled in this chaos until about 9 p.m., when we were absolutely done." [1]

"By a fatal chance we kept too far to the left," Scott wrote, "and then we struck uphill and, tired and despondent, arrived in a horrid maze of crevasses and fissures. Divided councils caused our course to be erratic after this, and finally, at 9 P.M. we landed in the worst place of all. After discussion we decided to camp, and here we are, after a very short supper and one meal only remaining in the food bag; the depot doubtful in locality. We must get there to-morrow. Meanwhile we are cheerful with an effort. It's a tight place, but luckily we've been well fed up to the present. Pray God we have fine weather to-morrow." [2]

"It's an extraordinary thing about Evans," added Oates, "he's lost his guts and behaves like an old woman or worse. He's quite worn out with the work, and how he's going to do the 400 odd miles we've still got to do, I don't know." [3]


Notes:

[1] L.E.G. Oates, diary, 12 February, 1912, quoted by Roland Huntford in Scott and Amundsen (New York : Putnam, 1980, c1979), p.520.
[2] R.F. Scott, diary, 12 February, 1912, quoted in Scott's Last Expedition, v.1.
[3] L.E.G. Oates, diary, 12 February, 1912, quoted by Roland Huntford in Scott and Amundsen (New York : Putnam, 1980, c1979), p.521.

Thursday, 25 January 1912

Scott

"Thank God we found our Half Degree Depôt," Scott wrote with obvious relief. [1]

"Oates suffers from a very cold foot; Evans' fingers and nose are in a bad state, and to-night Wilson is suffering tortures from his eyes. Bowers and I are the only members of the party without troubles just at present. The weather still looks unsettled, and I fear a succession of blizzards at this time of year; the wind is strong from the south, and this afternoon has been very helpful with the full sail. Needless to say I shall sleep much better with our provision bag full again. The only real anxiety now is the finding of the Three Degree Depot. The tracks seem as good as ever so far, sometimes for 30 or 40 yards we lose them under drifts, but then they reappear quite clearly raised above the surface. If the light is good there is not the least difficulty in following. Blizzards are our bugbear, not only stopping our marches, but the cold damp air takes it out of us. Bowers got another rating sight to-night—it was wonderful how he managed to observe in such a horribly cold wind. He has been on ski to-day whilst Wilson walked by the sledge or pulled ahead of it."


Amundsen

Framheim, in an undated photograph. [2]

When they had set off at ten in the evening the night before, the weather, Amundsen wrote, was still "of the most unpleasant kind. Calm with thick snowfall and drift so that one could not see more than the tips of one's skis." [3] They lost the marked track, and when the weather cleared after an hour or so, there was not a flag in sight. Amundsen ordered a compass course.

"After 8 miles march, a large, dark object hove into sight -- 2 points off our course -- to the west. We struck out for it. It turned out to be one of our sledges, which we had left at the start on the 20th October 1911. Before we knew it, we had reached our point of departure. We saw nothing of Fram, but that was hardly to be wondered at because the whole inner part of the bay was covered with ice. Framheim, on the other hand, lay, as we had left it, bathed in the morning sun."

It was four o'clock in the morning, and the five men unhitched the dogs as quietly as they could and crept into the hut. "Good morning, my dear Lindstrøm," Amundsen said. "Have you any coffee for us?"

Wisting, who described this scene years later, said "It would be very difficult for me to describe the various phizzes that emerged from their respective bunks and stared at us -- they had to be seen." [4]

"Good God, is it you?" was all that Lindstrøm could say at first, for the polar party had not been expected for another ten days. "Get up boys," he called out to the others, "it's the first cuckoo of spring."

"Roald came up to me, and shook my hand," Stubberud recalled, "I didn't ask about anything." [5] Somebody, Wisting wrote, finally put the question: "'Have you been there?' 'Yes, we've been there,' answered Roald Amundsen, and then there was a hullabaloo. Soon after, we were all seated round the table and savoured Lindstrøm's hot cakes and heavenly coffee. How good a cup of coffee can really taste one only realises when, like us, one has had to go without so long." [6] (For three months, the polar party had had nothing but hot chocolate.)

Hanssen wrote later, "The gathering round the breakfast table at Framheim after the end of the trip belongs to the moments in one's life one never forgets." [7]

After a short speech from Amundsen -- "We haven't got much to tell in the way of privation. The whole thing went like a dream" -- they finished off, Bjaaland said, "[with] a really good schnapps." [8]


Notes:

[1] R.F. Scott, diary, 25 January, 1912, quoted in Scott's Last Expedition, v.1. This was the depot made at 88° 29' on 10th January.
[2] Roald Amundsen Bildearkiv, Nasjonalbiblioteket.
[3] Roald Amundsen, diary, 26 January 1912, quoted by Roland Huntford in Race for the South Pole : the expedition diaries of Scott and Amundsen (London : Continuum, c2010), p.261.
[4] Oscar Wisting, 16 År med Roald Amundsen, p.38, quoted by Roland Huntford in Scott and Amundsen (New York : Putnam, 1980, c1979), p.526.
[5] Jørgen Stubberud, interview with Roland Huntford, quoted by Huntford in Scott and Amundsen (New York : Putnam, 1980, c1979), p.526.
[6] Oscar Wisting, 16 År med Roald Amundsen, p.29, quoted by Roland Huntford in Scott and Amundsen (New York : Putnam, 1980, c1979), p.526.
[7] Helmer Hanssen, Gjennem Isbaksen, p.101, quoted by Roland Huntford in Scott and Amundsen (New York : Putnam, 1980, c1979), p.526.
[8] Olav Bjaaland, source not given, quoted by Roland Huntford in Scott and Amundsen (New York : Putnam, 1980, c1979), p.527.

Wednesday, 24 January 1912

Scott

"Things beginning to look a little serious," wrote Scott. A strong wind developed into a blizzard, and they struggled to put up the tent. "This is the second full gale since we left the Pole. I don't like the look of it. Is the weather breaking up? If so, God help us, with the tremendous summit journey and scant food. Wilson and Bowers are my standby. I don't like the easy way in which Oates and Evans get frostbitten." [1]

They had managed 7 miles for the day, and were 7 miles from their depot. [2]

"Evans has got his fingers all blistered with frost-bites," Bowers wrote in his diary, "otherwise we are all well, but thinning, and in spite of our good rations get hungrier daily. I sometimes spend much thought on the march with plans for making a pig of myself on the first opportunity. As that will be after a further march of 700 miles they are a bit premature." [3]


Amundsen

The going suddenly better, "the dogs flew as never before," Amundsen wrote. But as they made camp, "the Sou'Wester broke out with drift and other abomination." [4]

Within hours of Framheim, they had covered 21 miles. They had lightened their loads so much in order to make good time that, Bjaaland noted, "We have almost no food, a few biscuits and chocolate." [5]


Notes:

[1] R.F. Scott, diary, 24 January, 1912, quoted in Scott's Last Expedition, v.1.
[2] Roland Huntford notes here that Scott's inability to continue in this gale, which was a force 8 from the SSE, illustrates how the compasses used by the Norwegians and the British differed crucially. "Amundsen's ship's models, fixed on the sledges, allowed travel in any conditions. Scott only had pocket compasses and portable sundials, both of which assumed good visibility to take the necessary bearings.... In the [man-hauling] traces, it was well-nigh impossible to navigate without periodic halts to take compass bearings, and [without] marks in the terrain by which to steer." The Norwegians, however, could keep going in a similar gale, such as the one on 1st/2nd December, even though at that point it was in fact a head wind for them. "Keeping a course in poor visibility needed someone to follow on behind and call out directions.... [Consequently, Scott] was stopped by a following wind, which otherwise ought to have helped him along" (Race for the South Pole, p.259).
[3] H.R. Bowers, diary, 24 January, 1912, quoted by Apsley Cherry-Garrard in The Worst Journey in the World, ch.12.
[4] Roald Amundsen, diary, 25 January, 1912, quoted by Roland Huntford in Scott and Amundsen (New York : Putnam, 1980, c1979), p.508.
[5] Olav Bjaaland, diary, 25 January, 1912, quoted by Roland Huntford in Race for the South Pole : the expedition diaries of Scott and Amundsen (London : Continuum, c2010), p.260.

Thursday, 18 January 1912

Scott

Having decided now that they had come too far, they set off back in a southeasterly direction for a little over three miles.

The sharp-eyed Bowers soon saw the Norwegian tent about two miles off, with a list inside of the five men who had made up the Polar party: "Roald Amundsen, Olav Olavson Bjaaland, Hilmer Hanssen [sic], Sverre H. Hassel, Oscar Wisting, 16 Dec. 1911. The tent is fine," Scott admitted, "a small compact affair supported by a single bamboo. A note from Amundsen, which I keep, asks me to forward a letter to King Haakon!" [1]

Scott, Oates, Wilson, and Evans at the Norwegians' tent. [2]

"Dear Captain Scott," Amundsen's note ran, "As you are probably the first to reach this area after us, I will ask you kindly to forward this letter to King Haakon VII. If you can use any of the articles left in the tent please do not hesitate to do so. With kind regards I wish you a safe return. Yours truly, Roald Amundsen." [3] "I am puzzled at the object," Scott wrote, in a remark edited out of his journals before publication. [4]

Wilson listed the "considerable amount of gear" the Norwegians had left in the tent: "half reindeer sleeping-bags, sleeping-socks, reinskin trousers [sic] 2 pair, a sextant, and artif[icial] horizon, a hypsometer with all the thermoms broken, etc. I took away the spirit-lamp of it, which I have wanted for sterilizing and making disinfectant lotions of snow." [5] Bowers was in fact glad to get a pair of reindeer mitts to replace the dogskin ones he had lost a few days earlier.

While Bowers photographed and Wilson sketched, Scott wrote a note to leave in the tent saying that they had been there, and went on another six miles. "We built a cairn, put up our poor slighted Union Jack, and photographed ourselves -- mighty cold work all of it." [6]

Scott and his men: from left, Wilson, Bowers and Evans (sitting), Scott, Oates. Bowers took most of the photographs at the Pole, here with a string (in his right hand) to the shutter release. [7]

A less well-known photograph, this time with Wilson pulling the shutter-release. From left, Wilson, Scott, Evans, Oates, and Bowers. [8]

Finding another of Amundsen's black flags about half a mile away, with the note in English, "The Norwegian Polheim is situated in 89 deg. 58' SE by E. (comp.) 8 Miles. 15 Decbr, 1911, Roald Amundsen" [9], they took it for the Norwegian Pole. (It was in fact the left-hand flag used to box the Pole.)

Wilson's sketch of one of Amundsen's pole markers, 18th January, 1912. [10]

"There is no doubt that our predecessors have made thoroughly sure of their mark and fully carried out their programme," wrote Scott. "I think the Pole is about 9500 feet in height; this is remarkable, considering that in Lat. 88° we were about 10,500. We carried the Union Jack about 3/4 of a mile north with us and left it on a piece of stick as near as we could fix it. I fancy the Norwegians arrived at the Pole on the 15th Dec. and left on the 17th, ahead of a date quoted by me in London as ideal, viz. Dec. 22. It looks as though the Norwegian party expected colder weather on the summit than they got; it could scarcely be otherwise from Shackleton's account. Well, we have turned our back now on the goal of our ambition and must face our 800 miles of solid dragging -- and good-bye to most of the daydreams!" [11]


Amundsen

On the first clear day they had had for a while, and having had poor visibility on the three previous visits to the area, the Norwegians were able to see, Bjaaland noted, "several rock and snowclad mountains which seemed to run in a N.E. direction ... 30 miles off." [12] Amundsen, however, conscious of the need to get home first with the news, refused to investigate. "I have contented myself," he wrote calmly later, "with giving the name of Carmen Land to the land between 86° and 84°, and have called the rest 'Appearance of Land.' It will be a profitable task for an explorer to investigate this district more closely." [13]

At the time, however, his anxiety made him short-tempered. "Hanssen has fallen into disgrace," Hassel noted in his diary. "He allowed himself to disagree with His Majesty Amundsen regarding Else [one of the dogs] which Hanssen insisted smelled, but Amundsen could not smell anything. For the time being they are not talking." [14]


Notes:

[1] R.F. Scott, diary, 18 January, 1912, quoted in Scott's Last Expedition, v.1.
[2] Source unknown.
[3] Roald Amundsen, letter to R.F. Scott, quoted by Roland Huntford in Scott and Amundsen (New York : Putnam, 1980, c1979), p.516.
[4] R.F. Scott, diary, [18 January, 1912], quoted by Roland Huntford in Scott and Amundsen (New York : Putnam, 1980, c1979), p.516. Scott's irritation is completely understandable.
[5] E.A. Wilson, diary, 18 January, 1912, quoted by Apsley Cherry-Garrard in The Worst Journey in the World, ch.13.
[6] R.F. Scott, diary, 18 January, 1912, quoted in Scott's Last Expedition, v.1.
[7] Wikipedia.
[8] Encyclopedia Britannica Kids.
[9] Quoted by Roland Huntford in Scott and Amundsen (New York : Putnam, 1980, c1979), p.518.
[10] "Amundsen's Original South Pole Station".
[11] R.F. Scott, diary, 18 January, 1912, quoted in Scott's Last Expedition, v.1.
[12] Olav Bjaaland, diary, 19 January 1912, quoted by Roland Huntford in Scott and Amundsen (New York : Putnam, 1980, c1979), p.507.
[13] Roald Amundsen, The South Pole, ch.13. This area near the Queen Maud Range was later found to be nonexistent, probably disturbances due to the Steers Head crevasse system.
[14] Sverre Hassel, diary, [date not given], quoted by Tor Bomann-Larsen in Roald Amundsen (Stroud, Gloucestershire : Sutton, c2006, c1995), p.109.

Tuesday, 16 January 1912

Scott

Wilson's sketch of one of Amundsen's markers, 16th January, 1912. This is Flag 1, of the Norwegians' evening camp on 13th December, near Scott's Camp 68. [1]

"The worst has happened, or nearly the worst," wrote Scott. "We marched well in the morning and covered 7 1/2 miles.... [We] started off in high spirits in the afternoon, feeling that to-morrow would see us at our destination. About the second hour of the march Bowers' sharp eyes detected what he thought was a cairn; he was uneasy about it, but argued that it must be a sastrugus. Half an hour later he detected a black speck ahead." [2]

"The flag was of black bunting tied with string to a fore-and-after which had evidently been taken off a finished-up sledge," noted Wilson, who would sketch another of the Norwegians' markers a few days later. "The age of the tracks was hard to guess but probably a couple of weeks -- or three or more. The flag was fairly well frayed at the edges. We camped here and examined the tracks and discussed things." [3]

"We're not a very happy party tonight," Oates wrote. "Scott is taking his defeat much better than I expected.... Amundsen -- I must say that man must have his head screwed on right."[4]

"It is a terrible disappointment, and I am very sorry for my loyal companions," wrote Scott. "Many thoughts come and much discussion have we had. To-morrow we must march on to the Pole and then hasten home with all the speed we can compass. All the day dreams must go; it will be a wearisome return. We are descending in altitude -- certainly also the Norwegians found an easy way up."

"I am awfully sorry for Captain Scott," Bowers wrote, "who has taken the blow very well indeed." [5]

Two days out from the Upper Glacier Depot at Mt. Darwin, Lashly wrote, "We are under the impression we are slightly out of our proper course, but Mr. Evans thinks we cant be very far out either way, and Crean and I are of the same opinion according to the marks on the land. Anyhow we hope to get out of it in the morning and make the Cloudmaker Depôt [the Middle Glacier depot at 84°33'] by night. We shall then feel safe, but the weather dont look over promising again to-night, I am thinking. So far we have not had to stop for weather. We have wondered if the Pole Party have been as lucky with the weather as we have. They ought by now to be homeward bound." [6]


Amundsen

The Norwegians reached their depot at 82°, the southernmost of their depots laid the previous autumn. "We had a special meal," Amundsen wrote, "to celebrate our arrival at civilisation's furthermost outpost in the South. Wisting has to be cook on such occasions. He plied us with a mixture of pemmican and seal steak. For dessert: chocolate pudding." [7]

The weather continued poor, with snowstorms, gales, drift, and fog, but they were now on their line of flags home. They were moving easily, despite the weather, between cairns, whose original four days' distance from each other was now down to two or three. The dogs had been put on double rations of pemmican, seal meat, and biscuits, and even chocolate as well towards the end, to lighten the loads.

Three members of the Japanese Antarctic Expedition in the Bay of Whales, January 1912. [8]

That day, Nilsen wrote aboard the Fram, "we were a little surprised to see a vessel come in ... finally we saw the Japanese flag. I had no idea that the expedition was on the way again." [9]

This was the Japanese Antarctic Expedition under Nobu Shirase. The ship had not reached the ice pack until late February, too late in the season to make land, and had returned to Australia before making a second attempt.

Their aim, Nilsen wrote, "was not (?) the Pole. In all, they had 25 (27?) men on board, 2 Ainus to drive their dogs, of which they had 27. They mostly eat vegetables, as far as I understand.... Together with Prestrud, I went on board Kainan Maru. It is a small, extremely dirty vessel of about 200 tons. Everything seems to be very disorganized. A seal lay half-dead on the ice; they only stood around and laughed at it. If we had had some firearms with us, we could have put it out of its misery.... [They] are really quite wild. We spoke 'English' with them."

“With an invitation to come again next day," Prestrud wrote later, "and permission to take some photographs, we returned to the Fram; but nothing came of the projected second visit to our Japanese friends. Both ships put out to sea in a gale that sprang up during the night, and before we had another opportunity of going on board the Kainan Maru the southern party had returned.” [10]


Notes:

[1] Hinks, Arthur R. "The Observations of Amundsen and Scott at the South Pole", The Geographical Journal, v.103, no.4 (April, 1944), between pp.170-171.
[2] R.F. Scott, diary, 16 January, 1912, quoted in Scott's Last Expedition, v.1.
[3] E.A. Wilson, diary, 16 January, 1912, quoted by Apsley Cherry-Garrard in The Worst Journey in the World, ch.13.
[4] L.E.G. Oates, diary, 16-18 January, 1912, quoted by Roland Huntford in Scott and Amundsen (New York : Putnam, 1980, c1979), p.513.
[5] H.R. Bowers, diary, 18 January, 1912, quoted by David Crane in Scott of the Antarctic (New York : Knopf, c2005), p.486.
[6] William Lashly, diary, 16 January, 1912, quoted by Apsley Cherry-Garrard in The Worst Journey in the World, ch.XII.
[7] Roald Amundsen, diary, 17 January, 1912, quoted by Roland Huntford in Scott and Amundsen (New York : Putnam, 1980, c1979), p.507.
[8] Roald Amundsen Bildearkiv, Nasjonalbiblioteket.
[9] Thorvald Nilsen, quoted by Roland Huntford in The Amundsen Photographs (London : Hodder & Stoughton, c1987), p.138.
[10] Kristian Prestrud, "The Eastern Sledge Journey", in Roald Amundsen's The South Pole, ch.15. Note that the date is given as 17th January; see Hinks' note on dates in "The Observations of Amundsen and Scott at the South Pole" (The Geographical Journal, April 1944, p.169).

Monday, 15 January 1912

Scott

"My pemmican," Oates wrote in his diary, "must have disagreed with me at breakfast, for coming along I felt very depressed and homesick." [1]

At lunch they made their last depot at 89° 37' S, and pressed on.They had seen no trace of Amundsen, having taken it for granted that the Norwegians would follow the known route up the Beardmore. "It ought to be a certain thing now," wrote Scott, "and the only appalling possibility the sight of the Norwegian flag forestalling ours." [2]

Atkinson's returning party arrived at One Ton in the evening. At the depots all along the way, they had been finding "rather despondent" notes from Meares, reporting thick weather and short rations. He had killed one dog along the way, and taken a portion of biscuit and butter from the units in order to make it to the next depots. "The dogs had the ponies on which to feed," Cherry wrote later, "to make up the deficiency of man-food we went one biscuit a day short when going up the Beardmore: but the dogs went back slower than was estimated and his provisions were insufficient. It was evident that the dog-teams would arrive too late and be too done to take out the food which had still to be sledged to One Ton for the three parties returning from the plateau." [3]

"Judge therefore our joy when we reached One Ton ... to find three of the five XS rations which were necessary for the three parties. A man-hauling party consisting of Day, Nelson, Hooper and Clissold had brought out this food; they left a note saying the crevasses near Corner Camp were bad and open. Day and Hooper had reached Cape Evans from the Barrier on December 21: they started out again on this depôt-laying trip on December 26."

The Terra Nova was unable to collect the Second Western Geological Party because of ice.


Amundsen

Since they were now into a routine of a 15- to 20-mile run then eight hours' camp regardless of the time of day, they arrived at 82° 30' S at 1:30 in the morning, after 5 1/2 hours' "splendid skiing". [4] The temperatures of around -10° (-23 C) were so comparatively warm for the conditions that Amundsen found it "baking hot" in the tent.


Notes:

[1] L.E.G. Oates, diary, 15 January, 1912, quoted by by Sue Limb and Patrick Cordingly in Captain Oates, Soldier and Explorer (London : Batsford, 1982), p.157.
[2] R.F. Scott, diary, 15 January, 1912, quoted in Scott's Last Expedition, v.1.
[3] Apsley Cherry-Garrard, in The Worst Journey in the World, ch.XII.
[4] Roald Amundsen, diary, quoted by Roland Huntford in Race for the South Pole : the expedition diaries of Scott and Amundsen (London : Continuum, c2010), p.244.