No casualties occurred during the winter, but Dr. Atkinson sustained a severely frost-bitten hand on July 4 when we had one of our winter blizzards. Certain thermometers had been placed in positions on the sea ice and up on the Ramp by Simpson, and these we were in the habit of visiting during the course of our exercise; the thermometer reading was done by volunteers who signified their intention to Simpson in order to avoid duplication of observation. On blizzard days we left them alone, but Atkinson, seeing that the wind had modified in the afternoon, zealously started out over the ice and was absent from dinner. Search parties were sent in various directions, each taking a sledge with sleeping-bags, brandy flask, thermos full of cocoa, and first-aid equipment. Flares were lit and kept going on Wind Vale Hill, Simpson's meteorological station overlooking the hut. Search was made in all directions by us, and difficulty was experienced due to light snowfall. Atkinson fetched up at Tent Island, apparently, which he walked round for hours, and, in trying to make the Cape again, became hopelessly lost, and, losing one of his mitts for a time, fell into a tide crack and did not get home till close upon midnight. Search parties came in one by one and were glad to hear the good news of Atkinson's return. My own party, working to the south of Cape Evans, did not notice how time was passing, and we—Nelson, Forde, Hooper, and myself—fetched up at 2 a.m. to be met by Captain Scott and comforted with cocoa.
Atkinson's hand was dreadful to behold; he had blisters like great puffed-out slugs on the last three fingers of his right hand, while on the forefinger were three more bulbous-looking blisters, one of them an inch in diameter. For days and days the hand had constantly to be bandaged, P. O. Evans doing nurse and doing it exceedingly well. Considering all things, we were fairly free of frostbite in the Scott expedition, and there is no doubt that Atkinson's accident served as an example to all of us to "ca' canny."
Although we had our proportion of blizzard days I do not think our meteorological record showed any undue frequency of high wind and blizzards; but, as Simpson in his meteorological discussion points out, we suffered far more in this respect than Amundsen, who camped on the Ice Barrier far from the land. It is a bitter pill to swallow, but in the light of after events one is compelled to state that had we stuck to our original plan and made our landing four hundred miles or so to the eastward of Ross Island, we should have escaped, in all probability, the greater part of the bad weather experienced by us. Comparison with Framheim, Amundsen's observation station, shows that we at Cape Evans had ten times as much high wind as the Norwegians experienced. Our wind velocities reached greater speeds than 60 miles an hour, whereas there does not appear to be any record of wind higher than 45 miles an hour at Amundsen's base at the Bay of Whales. Some of our anemometer records were very interesting. In the month of July, when Wilson's party was absent, we recorded 258 hours of blizzards, that is, of southerly winds of more than 25 miles an hour speed. This was the record for the winter months, but while we were depot-laying and waiting for the sea to freeze over at Hut Point, no less than 404 hours of blizzard were recorded in one month—March. Think of it, well over half the month was blizzard, with its consequent discomfort and danger. The blizzard which nearly caused the loss of the Cape Crozier party measured a wind force up to 84 miles an hour; no wonder the canvas roof of the stone hut there was swept away!
Our minimum temperature at the hut meteorological station was 50 degrees below zero in July, 1911, and the maximum temperature during the winter occurred in June when the thermometer stood as high as +19 degrees.
Our ten ponies stood the winter very well, all things being considered. One nearly died with cramp, but he pulled round in extraordinary fashion after keeping Oates and myself up all night nursing him. In spite of the names we assigned to the animals, largely on account of their being presented to us by certain schools, institutions, and individuals, the ponies were called by names conferred on them by the sailors and those who led them out for exercise. The ten animals that now survived were James Pigg, Christopher, Victor, Nobby, Jehu, Michael, Snatcher, Bones, Snippets, and a Manchurian animal called Chinaman, who behaved very badly in that he was always squealing, biting, and kicking the other ponies. A visitor to the stables, if he lent a hand to stir up the blubber which was usually cooking there, found himself generally welcome and certain to be entertained. Oates and Meares, his constant companions, had both served through the South African War, and had many delightful stories to tell of their experiences in this campaign; their anecdotes are not all printable, but no matter. Of Oates it is correct to say that he was more popular with the seamen than any other officer. He understood these men perfectly and could get any amount of work out of them, this was a great advantage, because he only had his Russian groom permanently to assist him, and he generally used volunteer labour after working hours to carry out his operations. In the two lectures he gave us on "The Care and Management of Horses," to which reference has been made, Oates showed how much time and thought he had devoted to his charges, and to the forthcoming pony-sledge work over the Great Ice Barrier.
During the latter half of the winter Oates and I saw a good deal of one another, as we daily exercised our ponies on the sea ice when Wilson's party was away and afterwards also till the weather was light enough for me to continue surveying. Oates led two ponies out generally— Christopher, the troublesome, and Jehu, the indolent while the care of the rogue pony, Chinaman, devolved on myself. When the ponies went well, which was usually the case, when they did not suffer from the weather, we used to have long yarns about our respective services and mutual friends. Oates would often discuss the forthcoming southern journey, and his ambition was to reach the top of the Beardmore Glacier; he did not expect to be selected for the southern party, which was planned to contain four men only—two of these must have special knowledge of navigation, to check one another's observations—the third would be a doctor, and it was expected that a seaman would be chosen for the fourth. So Oates was convinced that he had no chance, never for a moment appreciating his own sterling qualities.
By the spring the ponies were all ready to start their serious training for the southern journey, and the proper leaders now took charge to daily exercise their animals in harness. The older sledges were used with dummy loads, varying in weight according to the condition and strength of the pony. So well in fact and so carefully did Oates tend his charges, that by the time they were required for the southern journey only Jehu caused him any anxiety, even so this beast managed to haul a reasonable load for a distance of nearly 280 miles.
As to the dogs, the list was as follows:
Poodle—killed during gale outward in ship.
Mannike Rabchick (Little Grouse)—died from fall into crevasse.
Vashka—died suddenly, cause unknown.
Sera Uki (Gray Ears)—died after cramp and paralysis of hind legs.
Seri do. do.
Deek do. do.
Stareek (Old Man)—sent back with first supporting party.
Deek the Wild One.
Brodiaga (Robber).
Biele Glas (White Eye).
Wolk (Wolf).
Mannike Noogis (Little Leader).
Kesoi (One Eye).
Julik (Scamp).
Tresor (Treasure).
Vida.
Kumugai.
Biela Noogis (White Leader).
Hohol (Little Russian).
Krisraviza (Beauty).
Lappe Uki (Lap Ears).
Petichka (Little Bird).
Cigane (Gipsy).
Giliak (Indian).
Osman.
Seri (Gray).
Sukoi (Lean).
Borup.
Rabchick (Grouse).
Ostre Nos (Long Nose).
Makaka (Monkey).
Chorne Stareek (Black Old Man).
Peary.
Note.—Borup and Peary were from the American North Polar Expedition puppies. Borup was used in Dimitri's dog team which got right on to the Beardmore Glacier, but Peary was never any use except for the other dogs to sharpen their teeth on. He was a regular pariah.