Next day about 9 a.m. I went in with Rennick, Bowers, Oates, Gran, and two seamen to the landing place, taking a whaler and pram equipped with grass hawser, breeches buoy, rocket line, and everything necessary to bring off the gear. We had a rough time getting the stuff away undamaged by the sea, but the pram was a wonderful sea-boat and we took it in turns to work her through the surf until everything was away.

At the last, when nearly everything had been salved and got to the whaler, the collections in tin boxes, wooden cases and baskets, and the two men, Atkinson and Brewster, were on board, a large wave threw the pram right up on the rocks, capsizing her and damaging her badly. Her two occupants jumped out just before a second wave swept the boat over and over. Then a third huge roller came up and washed the pram out to sea, where she was recovered by means of a grapnel thrown from the whaler. The two on the rocks had to face the surf again but were good swimmers, and with their recovery our little adventure ended. It was a pity we had bad weather, because I intended to give the crew a run on the island when Campbell had finished with them.

We remained another day under the lee of Trinidad Island owing to a hard blow from the south-east—a dead head wind for us—because I felt it would be useless to put to sea and punch into it. We were anchored one mile S. 4 degrees E (magnetic) from the Ninepin Rock, well sheltered from the prevailing wind. We left Trinidad at noon on the 28th, well prepared for the bad weather expected on approaching the Cape of Good Hope.

Whilst clearing the land we had an excellent view of South West Bay and saw a fine lot of rollers breaking on the beach. I was glad we kept there that day, as, in my opinion, our anchorage was really the only fair one off the island. By noon on the 29th we had left South Trinidad out of sight, the wind had freshened again and we could almost lay our course under sail for the Cape. This next stage of the voyage was merely a story of hard winds and heavy rolls. The ship leaked less as she used up the coal and patent fuel. All the same we spent many hours at the pump, but, since much of the pumping was done by the afterguard—as were called the officers and scientists we developed and hardened our muscles finely. In the daytime the afterguard were never idle; there is always plenty to do in a sailing ship, and when not attending to their special duties the scientists were kept working at everything that helped the show along. Whilst on deck they were strictly disciplined and subordinate and respectful to the ship's executive officers, while in the wardroom they fought these same officers in a friendly way for every harsh word and every job they had had imposed on them.

Campbell was a fine seaman; he was respected and admired by such people as Oates and Atkinson, who willingly pocketed their pride and allowed themselves to be hustled round equally with the youngest seaman on board. The Wicked Mate generally had all the afterguard under the hose before breakfast, as washing water was scarce and the allowance meagre on such a protracted voyage.

In the hotter weather we nearly all slept on deck, the space on top of the ice-house and in the boats being favourite billets. There was no privacy in the ship and only the officers of watches and lookout men were ever left with their thoughts. One or two of the younger members confessed to being home-sick, for the voyage was long and it was not at all certain that we should all win back to "England, home, and beauty."

Those who were not sailor men soon acquired the habit of the sea, growing accustomed to meeting fair and foul weather with an equally good face, rejoicing with us sailor men at a fair wind and full sail and standing by top-gallant and topsail halyards when the prospects were more leaden coloured and the barometer falling. We numbered about forty now, which meant heaps of beef to haul on ropes and plenty of trimmers to shift the coal from the hold to the bunkers. One or two were always stoking side by side with the firemen, and in this fashion officers, seamen, and scientific staff cemented a greater friendship and respect for one another.

On August 7, after drinking to absent friends, Oates, Atkinson, and Gran, "the three midshipmen" were confirmed in their rank and a ship's biscuit broken on the head of each in accordance with gunroom practice, and after this day, during good and bad weather, these three kept regular watch with the seamen, going aloft, steering, and taking all the usual duties in their turn.

From the start Pennell, who was to relieve me in command of the ship on her arrival at the Antarctic base, showed an astounding knowledge of birds, and Wilson took the keenest interest in teaching him about bird-life in the Great Southern ocean and giving him a preliminary idea of the bird types to be met with in Antarctica.

Reflecting back to these days one sees how well we all knitted into the places we were to fill, because a long sea-voyage searches out hidden qualities and defects, not that there were many of the latter, still one man developed lung trouble and another had a strained heart. One of these, to our great regret, was forced to leave the expedition before the ship went south, while the other had to be ruled out of the shore party—an awful disappointment to them both.