Wednesday, 5 July 1911

Scott

"Three Men with a Sledge in Snow", a sketch by Wilson.

The Cape Crozier party had begun relaying, taking one sledge at a time and going back for the other, making them travel three miles for every one of distance. On the 5th, they managed only one and a half miles in soft new snow and a strong breeze, and recorded a noon temperature of almost -77°. "The day lives in my memory," wrote Cherry, "as that on which I found out that records are not worth making." [1] Wilson apologised continually, saying that he had never dreamed it would be so bad.


Notes:

[1] Apsley Cherry-Garrard, The Worst Journey in the World, ch.VII.

July 1911

Amundsen

On 4th July, Amundsen presented his "improved plan" for the attack on the Pole. They would start in the middle of September, instead of 1st November as originally planned, all eight men taking eighty-four dogs to the depot at 83°. They would build igloos and wait there until the middle of October, when the midnight sun would return, and then set off for the Pole.

A few weeks later, towards the end of the month, he revised this, suggesting a preliminary trip into King Edward VII Land to test equipment. He put this to the vote and was twice voted down, accepted the result, and proposed heading straight for the Pole on 24 August.

"The thought of the English gave him no peace," Hassel wrote later. "For if we were not first at the Pole, we might just as well stay home." [1]


Sources:

[1] Sverre Hassel, diary, 13 August, 1911, quoted by Roland Huntford in Scott and Amundsen (New York : Putnam, 1980, c1979), p.393.

Tuesday, 4 July 1911

Amundsen

Wisting at his sewing machine. [1]

Wisting, Amundsen wrote in his diary, "is sitting in the Great Ice Barrier and sewing tents on his Singer -- in +14°. To stop water dripping, he has lined his snowy sewing room with blankets ... and these insulate extraordinarily well. The sewing machine is a little sleepy first thing in the morning, but later on works well.... He is sewing new, light groundsheets in [the tents]. By this means, we will save several kilos." [2]

"Our sledging tents are of thin, white cloth, and that will be no good in the spring, when the sun is high. It will then be preferable to have a dark tent, into which one can go after the day's work, and rest one's eyes. Another consideration is that a dark colour will absorb the sun's rays to a greater degree, and make the tent warm. Ah well, we rarely allow ourselves to be defeated. We have made a mixture of ink powder and black boot polish, and with that product, we will get our tents as dark as we want."


Notes:

[1] Roald Amundsen Bildearkiv, Nasjonalbiblioteket.
[2] Roald Amundsen, diary, 5 July, 1911, quoted by Roland Huntford in The Amundsen Photographs (London : Hodder & Stoughton, c1987), p.111.

Sunday, 2 July 1911

Amundsen

The Aurora Australis over the South Pole. Photo by Keith Vanderlinde / National Science Foundation. [1]

The aurora, Amundsen wrote, stretched "in mighty curtains .... It was a lovely sight. It was as if in its light and power it wanted to fight a battle with the dawn over who would be first. In giant folds it thrust forwards, withdrew again and once more forced itself forwards -- shining in bright green, yellow & red. But, although its attack was violent, it had to give way to the dawn that slowly but surely was working its way up." [2]

"Sun, oh Sun, Thou art on the way back to us again, and a boundless welcome shalt Thou have. He first learns to treasure Thy blessed powers who once has been deprived of them. Life Thou givest; health and wellbeing."

The first part of the winter "has passed in a flash. Time has fled, but the memories are made .... [It] may seem odd but ... it is certain that not one of us have any doubts that we shall get through. There are no 'buts' to be heard. The matter seems decided. And so it ought to be. A lot will have to come in our way to deprive us from our goal. May the Almighty God be with us!" [3]


Notes:

[1] National Science Foundation, Office of Polar Programs.
[2] Roald Amundsen, diary, 3 July, 1911, quoted by Roland Huntford in Scott and Amundsen (New York : Putnam, 1980, c1979), p.381.
[3] Roald Amundsen, diary, 3 July, 1911, quoted by Roland Huntford in Scott and Amundsen (New York : Putnam, 1980, c1979), p.391.

Saturday, 1 July 1911

Scott

Atkinson's hand in a frostbitten condition similar to Cherry's, June 1911. [1]

Cherry wrote later, "During these days the blisters on my fingers were very painful. Long before my hands were frost-bitten, or indeed anything but cold, which was of course a normal thing, the matter inside these big blisters, which rose all down my fingers with only a skin between them, was frozen into ice. To handle the cooking gear or the food bags was agony; to start the primus was worse; and when, one day, I was able to prick six or seven of the blisters after supper and let the liquid matter out, the relief was very great. Every night after that I treated such others as were ready in the same way until they gradually disappeared. Sometimes it was difficult not to howl." [2]

Blistering is in fact a symptom of relatively shallow frostbite, deeper than when the skin becomes numb and white, but not as bad as when the affected area turns hard and, in worst cases, black.


Notes:

[1] Scott Polar Research Institute.
[2] Apsley Cherry-Garrard, The Worst Journey in the World, ch.VII.

Wednesday, 28 June 1911

Scott

Hauling their sledges up onto the Barrier, Cherry got all of his fingers frostbitten, leaving blisters an inch long, and that night the temperature fell to -47°. His glasses iced up and had to be put away -- "must be sure not to let any inability arising from this get on my nerves," he told himself. [1]


Notes:

[1] Apsley Cherry-Garrard, diary, 27 June, 1911, quoted by Sara Wheeler in Cherry : a life of Apsley Cherry-Garrard (New York : The Modern Library, c2001), p.110.

Tuesday, 27 June 1911

Scott

"Henry Robertson Bowers (left), Dr Wilson (centre), and Apsley George Benet Cherry-Gerrard (right) with loaded sled, ready to leave for Cape Crozier, 27 June 1911. Photograph taken by Herbert George Ponting, during the British Antarctic ('Terra Nova') Expedition (1910-1913)." [1]

Wilson, Bowers, and Cherry left on an expedition to Cape Crozier to collect penguin eggs.

This was Wilson's pet project, to study the embryology of Emperor penguin eggs, available unhatched only in the middle of winter. "It is because the Emperor is probably the most primitive bird in existence," Cherry explained later, "that the working out of his embryology is so important. The embryo shows remains of the development of an animal in former ages and former states; it recapitulates its former lives. The embryo of an Emperor may prove the missing link between birds and the reptiles from which birds have sprung." [2] The only known rookery was at Cape Crozier, and Wilson reckoned that the eggs would be laid in the beginning of July.

They took two 9-foot sledges lashed together, with 790 lbs. of gear and supplies for six weeks, travelling in the almost-complete darkness of midwinter. It would be the "worst journey in the world" after which Cherry later named his book.


Notes:

[1] Alexander Turnbull Library, National Library of New Zealand.
[2] Apsley Cherry-Garrard, The Worst Journey in the World, ch.VII. Wilson had been deeply influenced by the work of the German biologist and philosopher Ernst Haeckel, who proposed that the embryonic stages of an animal repeat the evolutionary history of its type. It is thought today that flightless birds evolved from those with flight, rather than the other way around.

Thursday, 22 June 1911

Scott

Midwinter's Day at Cape Evans, photographed by Ponting, 22 June, 1911. Seated from left, Debenham, Oates, Meares, Bowers, Cherry-Garrard, Scott at the head, Wilson, Simpson, Nelson?, Lt. Evans, Day?, and Taylor. Standing at left, Wright and Atkinson; at left, Gran. [1]

To mark Midwinter's Day, Scott wrote, "I screwed myself up to a little speech which drew attention to the nature of the celebration as a half-way mark not only in our winter but in the plans of the Expedition as originally published. (I fear there are some who don't realise how rapidly time passes and who have barely begun work which by this time ought to be in full swing.)

"We had come through a summer season and half a winter, and had before us half a winter and a second summer. We ought to know how we stood in every respect; we did know how we stood in regard to stores and transport, and I especially thanked the officer in charge of stores and the custodians of the animals. I said that as regards the future, chance must play a part, but that experience showed me that it would have been impossible to have chosen people more fitted to support me in the enterprise to the South than those who were to start in that direction in the spring. I thanked them all for having put their shoulders to the wheel and given me this confidence.

"We drank to the Success of the Expedition."

Everyone gave a short speech in turn, and then the table was upended and chairs set out for a show of Ponting's slides of the expedition.

"After this show the table was restored for snapdragon, and a brew of milk punch was prepared in which we drank the health of Campbell's party and of our good friends in the Terra Nova. Then the table was again removed and a set of lancers formed.

"By this time the effect of stimulating liquid refreshment on men so long accustomed to a simple life became apparent. Our biologist had retired to bed, the silent Soldier bubbled with humour and insisted on dancing with Anton. Evans, P.O., was imparting confidences in heavy whispers. Pat Keohane had grown intensely Irish and desirous of political argument, whilst Clissold sat with a constant expansive smile and punctuated the babble of conversation with an occasional 'Whoop' of delight or disjointed witticism. Other bright-eyed individuals merely reached the capacity to enjoy that which under ordinary circumstances might have passed without evoking a smile." [2]

Bowers' midwinter tree. [3]

"After dinner we had to make speeches," Cherry remembered, "but instead of making a speech Bowers brought in a wonderful Christmas tree, made of split bamboos and a ski stick, with feathers tied to the end of each branch; candles, sweets, preserved fruits, and the most absurd toys of which Bill was the owner. Titus [Oates] got three things which pleased him immensely, a sponge, a whistle, and a pop-gun which went off when he pressed in the butt. For the rest of the evening he went round asking whether you were sweating. 'No.' 'Yes, you are,' he said, and wiped your face with the sponge. 'If you want to please me very much you will fall down when I shoot you,' he said to me, and then he went round shooting everybody. At intervals he blew the whistle." [4]

Midwinter's Day at Cape Adare, photographed by Levick. [5]

At Cape Adare, Campbell's usually-strict rationing of alcohol was waived for the occasion, and champagne, brandy, and crême de menthe accompanied the celebratory dinner, with cigars and crystallized fruit, followed by songs, paper hats, and parcels from home.


Notes:

[1] Scott Polar Research Institute.
[2] R.F. Scott, diary, 22 June, 1911, quoted in Scott's Last Expedition, v.1.
[3] Scott Polar Research Institute.
[4] Apsley Cherry-Garrard, The Worst Journey in the World, ch.7.
[5] Scott Polar Research Institute.