Chapter 22 - THE WESTERN BASE -
LINKING UP WITH KAISER
WILHELM II LAND
The Home of the Blizzard By Douglas Mawson
Preface
Chapters:
1 - The Problem
and Preparations |
2 - The Last
Days of Hobart and the Voyage to Macquarie Island |
3 - From Macquarie
Island to Adelie Land |
4 - New Lands
| 5 - First
Days in Adelie Land |
6 - Autumn
Prospects |
7 - The Blizzard |
8 - Domestic
Life | 9
- Midwinter and its Work |
10 - The
Preparation of Sledging Equipment |
11 - Spring
Exploits |
12 - Across King George V Land |
13 - Toil
and Tribulation |
14 -
The Quest of the South Magnetic Pole
| 15
- Eastward Over the Sea-Ice |
16 - Horn
Bluff and Penguin Point |
17 - With
Stillwell's and Bickerton's Parties |
18 - The
Ship's Story |
19 - The
Western Base - Establishment and Early Adventures |
20 - The
Western base - Winter and Spring |
21 - The
Western Base - Blocked on the Shelf-Ice |
22 - The
Western base - Linking up with Kaiser Wilhelm II Land
| 23 - A
Second Winter |
24 - Nearing
the End |
25 - Life on Macquarie Island |
26 - A Land
of Storm and Mist |
27- Through
Another Year |
28 - The
Homeward Cruise
Appendices:
2 - Scientific Work
| 3 - An Historical
Summary | 4
- Glossary |
5 - Medical Reports |
6 - Finance
| 7 - Equipment
Summary (2 pages) of the
Australian Antarctic Expedition
| The
Men of the Expedition
CHAPTER XXII
THE WESTERN BASE -
LINKING
UP WITH KAISER WILHELM II LAND
by Dr. S. E. Jones
On our return from the Western
Depot journey towards the end of October 1912, we found preparations
completed for the long western trip, towards Gaussberg in Kaiser
Wilhelm II Land, which was discovered by the German Antarctic
Expedition of 1902. The departure was delayed for several days,
but came at last on November 7, Moyes bidding us adieu and wishing
us good luck.
The party consisted of Dovers (surveyor),
Hoadley (geologist), and myself (surgeon). We were hauling one
sledge with rations for nine weeks. Our course, which was almost
due south lay over the glacier shelf practically parallel to
the sea-cliffs. The surface was good, and we covered eleven
miles by nightfall, reaching a point some two or three miles
from the rising land slopes. As the high land was approached
closer, the surface of the glacier-shelf, which farther north
was practically level, became undulating and broken by pressure-ridges
and crevasses. These, however, offered no obstacle to sledging.
Proceeding in the morning and finding that an ascent of
the slopes ahead was rendered impracticable by wide patches
of ice, we turned more to the west and steered for Junction
Corner. Upon our arrival
there, it was discovered that several
bergs lay frozen within the floe close to where the seaward
wall of the glacier-shelf joined that of the land ice-sheet.
Some of these bergs were old and rotten, but one seemed to have
broken away quite recently.
From the same place we could
see several black points ahead; our course was altered towards
them, almost due westward, about halt a mile from the sea-cliffs.
They proved to be rocks, six in number, forming a moraine. As
it was then half-past five, we camped in order that Hoadley
might examine them. There had been a halo visible all day, with
mock suns in the evening.
In the morning a high wind
was blowing. Everything went well for a little over a mile,
when we found ourselves running across a steep slope. The wind
having increased and being abeam, the sledge was driven to leeward
when on a smooth surface, and when amongst soft sastrugi, which
occurred in patches, was capsized. Accordingly camp was pitched.
The next day being less boisterous, a start was made at
9 A.M. There was still a strong beam wind, however, which carried
the sledge downhill, with the result that for one forward step
two had to be taken to the right. We were more fortunate in
the afternoon and reached the depot laid on the earlier journey
at 5.30 A.M. From this position we had a fine view of the Helen
Glacier running out of a bay which opened up ahead.
Having
picked up the depot next morning, we were disappointed to find
that we should have to commence relay work. There were then
two sledges with rations for thirteen weeks; the total weight
amounting to one thousand two hundred pounds. By making an even
division between the two sledges the work was rendered easy
but slow. When we camped at 6 P.M., five and a half miles had
been covered. The surface was good, but a strong beam wind hindered
us while approaching the head of Depot Bay. The ice-cap to the
west appeared to be very broken, and it seemed inevitable that
we should have to ascend to a considerable altitude towards
the south-west to find a good travelling surface.
In
the morning we were delayed by heavy wind, but left camp at
ten o'clock after spending an hour digging out the sledges
and tent. At lunch time the sun became quite obscured and each
of us had many falls stumbling over the invisible sastrugi.
At five o'clock the weather became so thick that camp was
pitched. Hoadley complained of snow-blindness and all were suffering
with cracked lips; there was consequently a big demand for hazeline
cream in the evening.
On Wednesday November 13, we started
early, and, finding a good firm track over a gently rising plateau,
made fair progress. At three o'clock a gale sprang up suddenly;
and fortunately the sledges were only a quarter of a mile apart
as we were relaying them in stages up the rising plateau. The
tent was pitched hurriedly, though with difficulty, on account
of the high wind and drift. The distance for the day was four
miles one thousand five hundred yards, the last mile and a half
being downhill into a valley at the head of the bay. The morainic
boulders visible from the camp at the depot were now obscured
behind a point to the west of Depot Bay.
The next sixty
hours were spent in sleeping-bags, a heavy snowstorm making
it impossible to move. Owing to the comparatively high temperature,
20 degrees to 26 degrees F., the snow melted readily on the
lee side of the tent, and, the water running through, things
became uncomfortably wet inside. At midday of the 16th, however,
we were able to go out, and, after spending two and a half hours
digging out the tent and sledges, we made a start, travelling
two and three-quarter miles on a south-westerly course.
During the morning of the 17th a slight descent was negotiated,
but in the afternoon came the ascent of the slopes on the western
side of Depot Bay. The ice-cap here was very badly crevassed,
and spiked boots had to be worn in hauling the sledges up the
steep neve slopes. In the latter part of the afternoon a course
was made more to the west, and about the same time the south-east
wind freshened and we travelled for a couple of hours through
thick drift. The night's camp was situated approximately
at the eastern edge of the Helen Glacier. The portion of the
ice-cap which contributes to the glacier below is marked off
from the general icy surface on either side by a series of falls
and cascades. These appeared quite impassable near sea-level,
but we hoped to find a smooth passage at an altitude of about
one thousand feet.
A start was made at 7 A.M. The surface
consisted of ice and neve and was badly broken by pressure-mounds,
ten to twenty feet high, and by numerous crevasses old and recent;
many with sunken or fallen bridges. While crossing a narrow
crevasse, about forty feet of the bridge collapsed lengthwise
under the leading man, letting him fall to the full extent of
his harness rope. Hoadley and myself had passed over the same
spot, unsuspecting and unroped, a few minutes previously, while
looking for a safe track. We were now nearing the approximate
western edge of the Helen Glacier, and the broken condition
of the ice evidently indicated considerable movement. Later
in the morning a more southerly course was kept over an improving
surface.
At midday Dovers took observations of the sun
and found the latitude to be 66 degrees 47' S. Owing to
the heat of the sun the fat in the pemmican had been melting
in the food-bags, so after lunch the provisions were repacked
and the pemmican was put in the centre of the large tanks. In
the afternoon we hoisted the sail, and by evening had done four
miles. From our camp the eye could range across the Helen Glacier
eastward to the shelf-ice of ``The Grottoes.'' Far away
in the north-west was a wide expanse of open water, while a
multitude of bergs lay scattered along the coast to the west
of the Helen Glacier.
The next day was gloriously bright,
with a breeze just strong enough to make hauling pleasant. Erecting
a sail, we made an attempt to haul both sledges, but found that
they were too heavy. It was soon discovered that a considerable
detour would have to be made to cross the broken ice on the
western edge of the Helen Glacier. By keeping to the saddles
and valleys as much as possible and working to the south, we
were able to avoid the rougher country, but at 4 P.M. we arrived
at what at first appeared an impasse.
At this point three
great crevassed ridges united to form the ice-falls on the western
side of the glacier. The point of confluence was the only place
that appeared to offer any hope of a passage, and, as we did
not want to retrace our steps, we decided to attempt it. The
whole surface was a network of huge crevasses, some open, the
majority from fifty to one hundred feet or more in width. After
many devious turns, a patch of snow between two large abysses
was reached. As the ice in front seemed even more broken than
that behind, camp was pitched. After tea a search was made for
a way out, and it was found that by travelling along a narrow,
knife-edge ridge of ice and neve, with an open crevasse on each
side, a good surface could be reached within a mile of the camp.
This ridge had a gradient of one in ten, and, unfortunately,
also sloped down towards one of the open crevasses.
During
the next four days a heavy blizzard raged. There was a tremendous
snowfall accompanied by a gale of wind, and, after the second
day, the snow was piled four feet high round the tent, completely
burying the sledges and by its pressure greatly reducing the
space inside the tent. On the 23rd, the fourth day, we dug out
the floor, lowering the level of the tent about two feet, and
this made things more comfortable. While digging, a crack in
the ice was disclosed running across the floor, and from this
came a considerable draught. By midday the weather had improved
sufficiently to allow us to move.
The sledge and tent
were excavated from beneath a great mass of soft snow; the new
level of the snow's surface being four to five feet above
that on which the camp had been made four days earlier. The
wind having fallen, we went ahead with the sledges. While crossing
the ridge of ice which led into the valley below, one man hauled
the sledges while the other two prevented them from sliding
sideways downhill into the open crevasse. That afternoon we
noticed very fine iridescent colouring in cirro-cumulus clouds
as they crossed the sun.
The next day gave us a pleasant
surprise, there being a strong breeze dead aft, while the travelling
surface ahead looked distinctly favourable. Sail was hoisted
and the two sledges were coupled together. The course for a
short distance was downhill, and we had to run to keep up with
the sledges. The slopes on the far side of the valley we had
entered on the previous afternoon were not so formidable as
they had looked, for by lunch time six and a half miles had
been covered. The surface was good, with occasional long undulations.
After lunch a turn to the north was made for a short distance
in order to come in touch with the coastline. Then the march
west was resumed by travelling parallel to the shore at a distance
of five to ten miles. At halting-time the extreme western edge
of Helen Glacier was passed, and below lay young floe-ice, studded
with numerous bergs.
In the morning, Dovers called attention
to what appeared to be an ice-covered island lying to the north-north-west,
thirty to forty miles away. We watched this carefully during
the day, but found its form to be constant. Through binoculars,
icy patches and bluff points at the eastern and western ends
were distinguishable.**
** This was examined in detail
from the `Aurora' in January 1913 and found to be an island,
which was named Drygalski Island, for it is evidently the ice-covered
``high-land'' observed by Professor Drygalski (German
Expedition, 1902) from his balloon.--ED.
As soon as camp
was struck the march was resumed direct for what every one thought
was a rocky outcrop, though nearer approach proved it to be
merely the shady face of an open crevasse. The same course was
maintained and the ridge of ice that runs down to the western
point of Depot Bay was soon close at hand. From its crest we
could see a group of about a dozen rocky islands, the most distant
being five miles off the coast. All were surrounded by floe.
Descending steeply from the ridge into a valley which ran out
to the sea-cliffs, we pitched camp for lunch.
The meal
completed, Hoadley and I descended to the edge of the glacier
in order to see if there were a passable route to the sea-ice.
Crossing wide areas of badly crevassed ice and neve during a
descent of nine hundred feet, we reached the sea-front about
one and a half miles from the camp. Below us there was a chaos
of bergs and smaller debris, resulting from the disintegration
of the land-ice, which were frozen into the floe and connected
to one another by huge ramparts of snow. Following a path downward
with great difficulty, we approached a small berg which was
discovered to be rapidly thawing under the action of the heat
absorbed by a pile of stones and mud. The trickling of the falling
water made a pleasant relief in the otherwise
intense silence.
As it seemed impossible to haul sledges through this jumble
of ice and snow, Hoadley suggested that he should walk across
the floe and make a brief geological examination of at least
the largest islet. I therefore returned to the camp and helped
Dovers take observations for longitude and magnetic variation.
Hoadley returned at 9 P.M. and reported that he had seen
an immense rookery of Emperor penguins near the largest islet,
besides Adelie penguins, silver-grey, Wilson and Antarctic petrels
and skua gulls. He also said that he thought it possible to
take a sledge, lightly laden, through the drifts below the brink
of the glacier.
Accordingly in the morning the eleven-foot
sledge was packed with necessaries for a week's stay, although
we intended to remain only for a day in order to take photographs
and search for specimens. Erecting a depot flag to mark the
big sledge, we broke camp at midday and soon reached the sea-front.
Our track then wound among the snow-drifts until it emerged
from the broken ice which was observed to border the land ice-sheet
for miles. The travelling became unexpectedly good for a time
over highly polished, green sea-ice, and thence on to snow,
amid a field of numerous small bergs. Many of these showed a
marked degree of ablation, and, in places, blocks of ice perched
on eminences had weathered into most grotesque forms. There
were numerous streams of thaw-water running from mud-covered
bergs. Perspiring in the heat, we more than once stopped to
slake our thirst.
Approaching the largest rock--Haswell
Island, as it was called later-- we saw more distinctly the
immense numbers of Emperor penguins covering several acres of
floe. The birds extended in rows even on to the
lower slopes
of several bergs. The sound of their cries coming across the
ice reminded one of the noise from a distant sports' ground
during a well-contested game. We camped at 5 P.M. on a snow-drift
at the southern end of the island. A large rookery of Adelie
penguins on a long, low rock, about a mile distant, soon made
itself evident.
Although the stay was intended to occupy
only about twenty-four hours, we were compelled to remain five
days on the island on account of a snowstorm which continued
for practically the whole of the time. This did not prevent
us from leaving the tent and wandering about; Hoadley keen on
the geology and Dovers surveying whenever the light was good
enough. The temperature of the rock was well above freezing-point
where it was exposed, and snow melted almost as soon as it fell.
Our sleeping-bags and gear soon became very wet, but we rejoiced
in one compensation, and that was a change in diet. It was agreed
that five Adelie penguins or ten Cape pigeons' eggs made
a good tasty entree to the monotonous ration.
The camp
was situated on the largest of a group of about twelve small
islets, lying within five or six miles of the coast, on the
lower slopes of which several outcrops of rock could be observed.
Haswell Island was found to be roughly diamond-shaped; three-quarters
of a mile in length, the same in width, and about three hundred
feet on the highest point. It was surrounded by one season's
floe, raised in pressure-ridges on the eastern side. On the
northern, southern, and especially the eastern face, the rock
was steep; on the western aspect, there was a more gentle slope
down to the floe, the rock being almost concealed by big snow-drifts.
There were signs of previous glaciation in the form of erratics
and many examples of polishing and grooving. The rock was very
rotten, and in many places, especially about the penguin rookeries,
there were collections of soil. Two deep gorges cut through
the island from north-west to south-east, in both of which there
were small ponds of fresh water.
The most marked feature
was the wonderful abundance of bird life, for almost all the
birds frequenting the shores of the continent were found nesting
there. Adelie penguins were in greatest numbers. Besides the
large rookery on one of the smaller islets, there were numerous
rookeries of fifty to one hundred birds each on Haswell Island.
In most cases the penguins made their nests on the rock itself,
but, failing this, had actually settled on snow-drifts, where
they presented a peculiar sight, as the heat of their bodies
having caused them to sink in the snow, their heads alone were
visible above the surface. One bird was observed carrying an
egg on the dorsal surface of his feet as the Emperor penguins
do. Feathers were scattered broadcast around each rookery. These
result from the numerous fights which occur and are also partly
derived from the bare patch of skin at the lower part of the
abdomen which provides the necessary heat for incubation when
the bird is sitting. Most of the birds had two eggs in a well-advanced
stage of incubation, and it was a difficult task to find a sufficient
number fresh enough for culinary purposes. Attached to each
rookery was a pair of skua gulls, who swooped down and quickly
flew off with any eggs left for a moment untended.
The
Emperor penguins had their rookery on the floe, about a mile
from the island. The birds covered four to five acres, but there
were undoubted signs that a much larger area had been occupied.
We estimated the numbers to be seven thousand five hundred,
the great majority being young birds. These were well grown,
most of them standing as high as the shoulders of the adults.
They were all very fat, covered by a grey down, slightly darker
on the dorsal than on the ventral surface, with dark tails and
a black, straight beak. The eyes were surrounded by a ring of
grey plumage, and this again by a black band which extended
over the skull to the root of the beak. Thus the markings on
the young do not correspond with those of the adults. A few
of the larger chicks had commenced to moult, the change of plumage
being observed on the flippers.
Daily we watched large
numbers of adults departing from and returning to the rookery.
The direction in which they travelled was north, towards open
water, estimated to be twenty miles distant. Although more than
once the adults' return to the rookery was carefully noted,
we never saw the young birds being fed, old birds as they entered
the rookery quietly going to sleep.
Hoadley, on his first
visit to the island, had seen Antarctic petrels flying about,
and a search revealed a large rookery of these on the eastern
side. The nesting-place of this species of petrel had never
before been discovered, and so we were all elated at the great
find. About three hundred birds were found sitting in the gullies
and clefts, as close together as they could crowd. They
made no attempt to form nests, merely laying their eggs on the
shallow dirt. Each bird had one egg about the same size as that
of a domestic fowl. Incubation was far advanced, and some difficulty
was experienced in blowing the specimens with a blow-pipe improvised
from a quill. Neither the Antarctic nor any other petrels offered
any resistance when disturbed on their nests, except by the
expectoration of large quantities of a pink or green, oily fluid.
The Cape pigeons had just commenced laying when we arrived
at the island. On the first day only two eggs were found, but,
on the fourth day after our arrival, forty were collected. These
birds make a small shallow nest with chips of stone.
The silver-grey or Southern Fulmar petrels were present in large
numbers, especially about the steep north-eastern side of the
island. Though they were mated, laying had scarcely commenced,
as we found only two eggs. They made small grottoes in the snow-drifts,
and many pairs were seen billing and cooing in such shelters.
The small Wilson petrels were found living in communities
under slabs of rock, and Hoadley one afternoon thought he heard
some young birds crying.
Skua gulls were present in considerable
force, notably near the penguin rookeries. They were breeding
at the time, laying their eggs on the soil near the summit of
the island. The neighbourhood of a nest was always betrayed
by the behaviour of these birds who, when we intruded on them,
came swooping down as if to attack us.
Although many
snow petrels were seen flying about, we found only one with
an egg. The nests were located in independent rocky niches but
never in rookeries.
Vegetable life existed in the form
of algae, in the pools, lichens on oversell rocks and mosses
which grew luxuriantly, chiefly in the Adelie penguin rookeries.
Weddell seals were plentiful about the island near the tide-cracks;
two of them with calves.
Though the continuous bad weather
made photography impossible, Hoadley was able to make a thorough
geological examination of the locality. On December 2 the clouds
cleared sufficiently for photography, and after securing some
snapshots we prepared to move on the next day. Dovers built
a small cairn on the summit of the island and took angles to
the outlying rocks.
On the 3rd we packed our specimens
and left for the mainland at 9.30 A.M., arriving at the land
ice-cliffs at 2 P.M. The snow surface was soft, even slushy
in places, and the heat amongst the bergs along the coast of
the mainland was very oppressive. After we had dug out the second
sledge and re-arranged the loads, the hour was too late for
sledging, so Dovers took another observation in order to obtain
the rate of the half-chronometer watch. While on the island,
we had examined the coast to the west with glasses and concluded
that the only way to get westward was to ascend to a considerable
altitude on the ice-cap, which, as far as the eye could reach,
descended to the sea-level in long cascades and falls. We had
expected to place a depot somewhere near Haswell Island, but
such procedure was now deemed inadvisable in view of its distance
from what would probably be our direct return route.
A start was made next day against an opposing wind, the sledges
being relayed up a steep hillside. Later on, however, a turn
was made more to the west, and it was then possible to haul
both sledges at the same time. The surface was soft, so that
after every halt the runners had to be cleared. The distance
for the day was five and a half miles, and the night's camp
was at an altitude of about one thousand five hundred feet,
located just above the broken coastal ice.
During December
5 and 6 a snowstorm raged and confined us to our tent. The high
temperature caused the falling snow to melt as it touched the
tent, and, when the temperature fell, the cloth became thickly
coated with ice.
On the 7th the march was resumed, by
skirting a small valley at an approximate altitude of two thousand
feet. The ice-cap ahead descended in abrupt falls to the floe.
Having a fair wind and a smooth surface, we made good headway.
In the afternoon we ran into a plexus of crevasses, and the
surface was traversed by high ridges. The snowbridges in many
cases were weak and several gave way while the sledge was crossing
them. A chasm about fifty feet deep and one hundred feet long
was passed, evidently portion of a crevasse, one side of which
had been raised. Later in the afternoon the surface became impassable
and a detour to the south was rendered necessary. This difficulty
arose near the head of the valley, in which situation the ice-cap
fell in a series of precipitous terraces for about one thousand
feet.
At midday on the 8th we were compelled to continue
the detour over a badly crevassed surface, ascending most of
the time. On that night, camp was pitched again amongst crevasses.
The sledge-meter showed only two miles one thousand one hundred
yards for the afternoon, relaying having been necessary.
The sledges slipped along in the morning with a fresh breeze
in their favour. The sky was covered with rapidly scudding,
cirro-cumulus clouds which, by midday, quite obscured the sun,
making surrounding objects and even the snow at our feet indistinguishable.
After continuing for four and a half miles, we were forced to
camp. In the afternoon a heavy snowstorm commenced and persisted
throughout the following day.
Though snow was still falling
on the morning of the 11th, camp was broken at 10 A.M., and
we moved off rapidly with a strong wind. During the morning
the surface was gently undulating, but it mounted in a gradual
ascent until nightfall. In the latter part of the afternoon
the sun was clouded over, and steering had to be done by the
aid of the wind. To the north we had a fine view of Drygalski's
``High Land'' (Drygalski Island), perceiving a distinct
seaward ice-cliff of considerable height.
As there were
no prominences on the ice-cap that could be used for surveying
marks, Dovers had considerable difficulty in keeping a reckoning
of our course. The trouble was overcome by building snow-mounds
and taking back-angles to them with the prismatic compass. At
this juncture we were about ten miles from the shore and could
see open water some thirty miles to the north. Frozen fast within
the floe were great numbers of bergs.
We started off
early on December 12 with the aid of a fair breeze over a good
surface, so that both sledges were easily hauled along together.
The course was almost due west, parallel to the coast. Open
water came within a few miles of the ice-cliffs, and, farther
north, a heavy belt of pack was observed. When the sun sank
lower, the bergs on the northern horizon were refracted up to
such a degree that they appeared to be hanging from the sky.
The aid rendered by the sail under the influence of a fair
breeze was well shown on the following day. In four hours, on
a good surface, both sledges were transported seven miles. When
we moved off, the wind was blowing at ten to fifteen miles an
hour. By 10 A.M. the sky became overcast and the wind freshened.
Camp was pitched for lunch at 11 A.M., as we hoped that the
weather would clear again later, but the wind increased and
snow began to fall heavily in the afternoon, so we did not stir.
The storm continued throughout the following day and it was
impossible to march until the 15th.
Continuing the ascent
on the 16th out of a valley we had crossed on the previous day,
we halted on the top of a ridge within view of German ``territory''--a
small, dark object bearing due west, evidently bare rock and
presumably Gaussberg. The course was altered accordingly towards
this object and everything went smoothly for ten miles. Then
followed an area where the ice fell steeply in waves to the
sea, crossed by crevasses which averaged fifty feet in width.
The snow-bridges were deeply concave, and the lower side of
each chasm was raised into a ridge five to ten feet high. Making
fast the alpine rope on to the sledges, one of us went ahead
to test the bridge, and then the sledges, one at a time, were
rushed down into the trough and up on the other side. After
crossing ten or more crevasses in this fashion, we were forced
to camp by the approach of a rapidly moving fog driven before
a strong westerly wind. While camp was being prepared, it was
discovered that a tin of kerosene on the front sledge had been
punctured causing the loss of a gallon of fuel. Fortunately,
we were well within our allowance, so the accident was not serious.
Soon after tea our attention was drawn to a pattering on the
tent like rain, caused by a fall of sago snow.
In the
morning the weather was clearer, and we saw that it was impossible
to reach Gaussberg by a direct route. The ice ahead was cleft
and split in all directions, and, in places, vertical faces
stood up to a height of one hundred feet. The floe was littered
with hundreds of bergs, and in several localities there were
black spots which resembled small rocks, but it was impossible
to approach close enough to be certain. Retracing the way out
of the broken ice, we steered in a south-westerly direction,
just above the line of serac and crevassed ice. The coast here
trended to the south-west, forming the eastern side of Drygalski's
Posadowsky Bay. The going was heavy, the surface being covered
by a layer of frost-crystals deposited during the night. A fog
came up again early in the afternoon and had quite surrounded
us at camping time. During the day there were fine clouds of
ice-crystals in the air, and at 8 P.M. a fog-bow was seen in
the east.
Turning out in the morning we saw Gaussberg
peeping over a ridge to the west, but were still prevented from
steering directly towards it by the broken surface. When we
had advanced ten miles, a heavy fog brought us to a halt at
5 P.M.
On Friday the 20th, in spite of a sticky surface,
thirteen miles was covered on a west-south-west course. The
ice-cap continued to be undulating but free of crevasses. The
altitude was between two thousand five hundred and three thousand
feet.
In the morning, after travelling two miles, we
came in sight of Gaussberg again and steered directly towards
it. The surface was good with a downward grade. At five and
a quarter miles a depot was made of the small sledge and most
of the food, in expectation of a clear run to the mountain.
Not far ahead, however, were two broken- backed ridges intersecting
the course, and a detour had to be made to the south to cross
them higher up.
Midsummer's day, December 22, was
spent in the tent, a move being impossible on account of the
high wind. In the afternoon we walked ahead a short distance
and reconnoitred six or seven crumpled ridges. Though the barometer
had been falling ominously for twenty-four hours, the bad weather
did not continue.
Gaussberg was reached in the afternoon,
after our track had passed through seventeen miles of dangerous
country. For the first few miles the surface consisted of a
series of steep, buckled ice-ridges; later, it was snow-covered,
but at times literally cut into a network of crevasses.
The only approach to Gaussberg from the plateau is from
the south. To the east and west there are magnificent ice-falls,
the debris from which litters the floe for miles around.
December 24 and Christmas Day were devoted to examining
the mountain. Dovers made a long series of observations for
longitude, latitude and magnetic variation, while Hoadley examined
the rocks and took
photographs.
On the southern side, the
ice-cap abuts against this extinct volcano at an elevation of
about four hundred feet above sea-level; the summit of the mountain
rises another eight hundred feet. On the north, the rock descends
to the floe. Gaussberg is pyramidal in shape, falling steeply,
from a ridge at the summit. The sides are covered with a loose
rubble of volcanic fragments, square yards of which commence
to slide at the slightest disturbance. This renders climbing
difficult and accounts for the large numbers of isolated blocks
fringing the base.
At the summit two cairns were found,
the bamboo poles which had previously marked them having blown
over. Further examination revealed many other bamboos which
had been used as marks, but no other record of the visit of
the German expedition, ten years before, was met. Bird life
was not plentiful, being limited to a few skuas, Wilson petrels
and snow petrels; the latter nesting under slabs of rock. There
were large quantities of moss where thaw-water had been running.
The ice and snow near the mountain showed evidences of marked
thawing, and we had difficulty in finding a favourable spot
for our camp.
Christmas Day was gloriously fine, with
just sufficient wind to counteract the heat of the sun. At midday
the Christmas ``hamper'' was opened, and it was not
long before the only sign of the plum-pudding was the tin. In
the afternoon we ascended the mountain and left a record in
a cairn at the top. By the route followed, Gaussberg was two
hundred and fifteen miles from ``The Grottoes'' but
relay work had made the actual distance covered three hundred
miles.
We had been away from home seven weeks, and, though
there was sufficient food for an outward journey of another
week, there was no indication that the country would change.
Further, from the summit of Gaussberg one could see almost as
far as could be marched in a week. Accordingly it was decided
to commence our return on the 26th, making a course almost due
east, thus cutting out numerous detours which had to be taken
on the outward journey.
We left the mountain on December
26, pursuing a course to the south of our outward track so as
to avoid some crevassed ridges. Ascending steadily against a
continuous headwind, we picked up the second sledge at midday
on the 28th.
Next day all the gear was transferred to
one sledge and a course made direct to the Helen Glacier; the
other sledge being abandoned.
On December 31, after a day's
blizzard, the surface was found to be covered with sastrugi
of soft snow eighteen inches to two feet in depth. In crossing
a wide crevasse, the sledge became bogged in the soft snow of
a drift which had a deceptive appearance of solidity. It took
us ten minutes to extricate ourselves, and, after this, crevasses
were negotiated at a run.
A violent blizzard raged during
the following day--the first of the New Year 1913. This proved
to be a blessing, for it made the surface more crisp and firm.
In the morning the sun was obscured and nothing was visible
but the snow at our feet, so that steering was very difficult.
In the afternoon the sun broke through, a strong westerly wind
sprang up and we moved along at a good pace, covering more than
thirteen miles before camping.
On January 3 the track
bordered on the edge of the plateau, the surface being almost
level, rising gently towards the south.
After a violent
blizzard of three days' duration, which confined us in the
tent, we continued on the same course for four days, averaging
about eleven miles each day. The surface was good, but a strong
south-easter blew practically all the time and reduced our speed
considerably.
At 10 A.M. on January 9, a fog-bank was
observed in the east. This rapidly approached, and in fifteen
minutes was quite close. There was now a splendid display of
rings and arcs, caused apparently by minute ice-crystals which
filled the air without obscuring the sun or sky. First an arc
of prismatic colours appeared in the east, and in a few seconds
the sky seemed literally to be covered with other arcs. At first
they seemed to be scattered indiscriminately, but after a short
time several arcs joined and we could discern a symmetrical
arrangement. The sun was surrounded by a ring, the lower portion
of which was broken by an inverted arc; two other arcs were
visible on either side. A large ring appeared encircling the
zenith, intersecting the first and passing through the sun.
Two pairs of arcs were also seen, one pair in each ring. Excepting
the arcs and ring about the zenith, which was grayish-white
against the blue sky, the arcs showed prismatic colouring. The
display lasted ten minutes and ended with the disappearance
of the ice-crystals.
The diagram
shows the arrangement of the arcs:
S = Sun. Z = Zenith. At
A, B, C, mock suns could be seen.
From our camp on the night
of January 10, broken country could be seen ahead. To the north,
open water was visible, and to the north-east the Shackleton
Shelf, so that we were nearing home at last. Here, a heavy snowstorm
delayed us for two and a half days, and it was not till the
afternoon of January 13 that we were able to move ahead.
The next day was dull, the sun being quite obscured; and
the only check upon the steering was the south-easterly wind.
At midday the thermometer registered 35 degrees F. in the shade,
and the surface became quite sticky. After tea we walked ahead
for a couple of hundred yards to the summit of a ridge where
the full extent of the Helen Glacier was laid before us. It
was evident that our position was some miles north of the true
course, but, considering the absence of steering marks and the
constant overcast weather, we considered ourselves lucky in
being so close to it.
The bad weather continued and snow
fell during the following day. On the 16th the light was better,
and we pushed into a strong wind which freshened to the force
of a moderate gale before we had travelled two miles. Approaching
a steep ascent we were compelled to camp. The morning brought
an improvement, and the crossing of the Helen Glacier was commenced
a mile or two above the outward course.
At midday on
January 18, over treacherous ice, in the face of strong winds,
we were making good headway towards Junction Corner. Almost
daily for a fortnight a Wilson petrel had visited us, the only
form of life seen on the return journey.
On the 19th
we were not able to move until 8.80 P.M., when the wind, which
had been blowing with the force of a gale, subsided. During
the afternoon a magnificent view of the Helen Glacier was obtained,
and in the west we could see Haswell Island and Drygalski Island.
Continuing on the same course, throughout the following
day, we picked up the hut with the binoculars at 5 P.M. There
now came a quick descent to Junction Corner.
On the lower
levels there was clear evidence of thawing having occurred.
The firm surface of snow which had been present on the outward
journey was now converted into rough ice, over which we walked
painfully in finnesko. Neve and ice surfaces were covered with
sharp spicules, and the sides and bridges of crevasses were
unmistakably thawed.
Leaving Junction Corner at 6 A.M.,
we steered a course for the hut, running parallel to the edge
of the glacier. At 3 P.M. the mast was sighted, and, later,
the hut itself. When within half a mile of ``The Grottoes''
we saw three figures on the floe and guessed that the eastern
party had returned. In a few minutes greetings were heartily
exchanged and they had welcomed us home.
Instructions
had been given that the Western Base should be in readiness
to embark on the `Aurora' not later than January 30, 1913.
When Wild's party had arrived, preparations for departure
were immediately made. Geological and biological collections
were packed, stores were sorted out and cases containing personal
gear were sledged to the edge of the glacier.
Harrisson
contrived a winch for sounding and fishing. Fourteen-gauge copper
wire was wound on it and, through a crack in the sea-ice a quarter
of a mile from the glacier, bottom was reached in two hundred
and sixty fathoms. As the water was too deep for dredging, Harrisson
manufactured cage-traps and secured some fish, a squid, and
other specimens.
At this time there was abundant evidence
of life. Skua gulls frequently flew about the hut, as well as
Cape pigeons, Antarctic, snow, Wilson, giant and silver-grey
petrels. Out on the sea-ice, there were Adelie and Emperor penguins;
the latter moulting. Hundreds of seals were seen with glasses
on the edge of the floe, ten miles to the north.
On the
whole, January was a very fine month. Some of the days seemed
really hot; the shade temperature on one occasion reaching 37
degrees F., and, in several instances, 33 degrees F. It was
quite a common thing for a man to work outside in loose, light
garments; in fact, with nothing more than a singlet on the upper
part of the body.
On January 26, while Kennedy took observations,
Wild and the others went for a walk towards the open water.
The surface was very rough and broken by leads, along which
Weddell seals lay in great numbers. Three miles of ice were
found to have drifted out, reducing the northern expanse to
seven miles.
In view of the possibility of the `Aurora'
not relieving them, the party went through their food-supplies,
finding that these were sufficient for another year, with the
exception of meat. With regard to coal, two tons of briquettes
remained, which, augmented by good stock of seal-blubber, would
provide sufficient fuel.
Laying in a store of seals'
flesh and blubber now became the principal work, and every fine
day saw a party out with a sledge. Unfortunately, the nearest
crack on the sea-ice was nearly two miles away, so that the
return journey, with a heavily laden sledge, was long and tedious.
Two holes were dug in the glacier near the hut, one for blubber
and the other for meat.
On January 31 six miles of sea-ice
still remained, and, if the ship had arrived to time, a good
deal of sledging would have been required to transport all the
gear aboard.
In February, the weather altered for the
worse, and there was not a single fine day until the 20th. A
strong east-southeast wind with falling snow prevailed. As the
days were shortening rapidly, all were beginning to feel anxious
about the `Aurora'.
Wild erected a flagstaff on the
highest ice-pinnacle near ``The Grottoes'' and flew
a large flag on it whenever the wind moderated. On the 16th,
a lamp-screen and reflector were fitted at the mast-head and
each night a hurricane lamp was placed there, which could be
seen eight miles with the naked eye.
On the 20th Dovers
and Wild made a large signboard, taking it out to a prominent
point on the glacier, three and a half miles to the north. It
was lashed to a bamboo pole with a flag flying on it. The open
water was then only three miles distant.
Wild writes:
``The 22nd February was the anniversary of the day the `Aurora' left us, but the weather was very different. A heavy blizzard was raging, the wind's velocity ranging up to eighty miles per hour. As it was Saturday, we kept the usual routine, scrubbing out and cleaning up the hut. We could not help speculating as to whether we should have to do it for another whole year. But every one had great faith in `good old Davis,' and nobody was at all downhearted.
``When we `turned out' on Sunday there was still a strong wind and drift, but this died away to a light breeze before breakfast was over, and the sun came out. I had a look round with the glasses and saw that the ice had broken away beyond a limit of one and a half miles. As there was a sledge, which Harrisson had been using for sounding, within a few yards of the water's edge, Jones and I went off to bring it in. We had gone less than half a mile when we saw what at first appeared to be a penguin, standing on some pack-ice in the distance, but which we soon saw was the mast-head of the `Aurora'.
``It was evident that she could not be alongside for some time, so Jones went back to the hut to tell the others to bring down a load of gear, and I went on to meet the ship. Before the `Aurora' had reached the fast ice, all the party were down with two sledge loads, having covered the mile and a half in record time.
``We were all anxious, of course, for news, and the first we received was the sad account of the deaths of Ninnis and Mertz; then of the wonderful march made by Dr. Mawson.
``Before closing, I should like to pay a tribute to the good-fellowship, unfailing industry, enthusiasm and unswerving loyalty which characterized my comrades. During the whole of the Expedition, whether carrying out monotonous routine work at the Base or under the trying conditions of sledging, all duties were performed with never-failing good temper and perseverance.
``Should it ever be my lot to venture on a like expedition I hope to have some, if not all, of the same party with me. But whether we meet again or not, I shall always think of every man of them with the greatest affection and respect.''
CHAPTER XXIII - A SECOND WINTER