Where None Had Gone Before

At midnight we were at the top and looking down a long slope bearing a little to the left to a large open bay. Shackleton fearing we might overshoot Stromness Bay whaling station, which would have been fatal, we decided to make down the NE slope. The easy descent lured us on. It was grand, swinging on with only an occasional check, though the freer striding chafed the inside of our thighs, previously irritated with constant wettings from salt water, until they were raw and bleeding.

By 2 a.m. we had come down so far that we could see some small rocky islets in the bay beneath us, and we discussed whether or not they could be the Blenheim Rocks in Stromness Bay. Suddenly we found ourselves in a crevassed area, so we knew we were approaching the breaking-off edge of some glacier. As there was no such glacier in Stromness Bay, we must have turned too soon towards the sea. Shackleton said, "We must turn back for a while." Wearily we retraced our footsteps upwards for nearly a mile, then gradually curved off to the left, as we had done the previous morning from Possession Bay. The slope to the SE became very steep, and I think this was the weariest part of the whole journey, partly no doubt from the hopeless feeling at having to climb again to previously hard-won heights.

This was not to be wondered at. As the interior was unknown, there was no chart of it, and recognition of the bits of the coast we could see was difficult by moonlight.

I was roped in the rear, and noticed the ropes so slack several times that it was hard to avoid treading on it. Once in fact I did so. This is irritating to the others in ordinary mountaineering, but with fatigued men it is almost more than they can bear if it happens often and, following the example of our leader, we all did our utmost to help and consider each other and avoid any cause of annoyance. Teamwork was pulling us through. Although Crean and I had several times asked Sir Ernest to let us take the lead for a while he would not, but led the whole journey, though it was certainly more exhausting breaking the trail. In normal times he would sometimes be irritable, but never when things were going badly and we were up against it.

The slope up which we were going got very steep. We were making for the only opening in a ridge of rocky mountains which lay athwart our course. This reminded one of the gap left when a tooth has been drawn. The snow ran up into and through it.

About 5 a.m. we reached the lower flank of the great buttress of rock on the right, and feeling woefully sleepy and weary, we lay our three sticks across a corner in the rocks, sat on them, all three snuggling together for warmth and leaning back against the rock. Crean and I fell asleep instantly. Shackleton , with his unselfishness and care of his men, kept awake, fearing if we all slept we should never awaken again.

After we had slept for 10 minutes, in Shackleton 's words, "I woke them and told them they had been asleep for half an hour and the moral effect of my deception did them as much good as if they had been." I certainly felt wonderfully refreshed.

The slope grew steeper still, and we struggled up it until just after 6 o'clock, when we reached the gap. In a tiny terrace of snow we dug a hole and started the Primus. While Crean cooked hoosh Sir Ernest and I unroped, worked our way up to a better point of vantage and looked for the best course. It was a clear, calm, lovely morning, the moon, her good work done, paling in the west, the dawn breaking.

Almost straight below were the dark waters of Fortuna Bay, with a great valley at the head, half filled with a mighty glacier that swept round the mountains with a noble curve, and was fed by another glacier that broke farther south through the ridge on which we were standing, so there seemed to be no road there. Beyond the valley was another transverse ridge, much lower than the one we were on, and beyond that some glimpses of the water of Stromness Bay—our goal. Sir Ernest recognized a remarkable Z-shaped stratification of the great rocky face on the far side of Stromness Bay, and we felt safe. No fear of overshooting our mark now or losing our way.

Immediately in front of us the slope was precipitous. It went off, so far as we could tell, into a sheer cliff; but to the right it looked as though there was a possible descent. It seemed too good to be true, and I said so quite solemnly to Sir Ernest. We felt happy now we could see the end of our journey.