The Thrilling Story of Scott’s Expedition to the Antarctic
THE age-old dreams of hundreds of men have been realised; the ends of the earth have yielded up their secrets—the Poles have been discovered. Peary to the North, Amundsen and Scott to the South, hardy adventurers all, with the wanderlust in their souls and science as their beckoner—these men went forth and wrested from the ice-bound regions something of what had been refused to the scores of men preceding them; some of whom had come back, weak, despondent, while others left their bones as silent witnesses to their noble failure to achieve what they set out for.
Of all the many expeditions which have set forth to the Polar regions, none was more tragic than that commanded by Captain Robert F. Scott. In practically the hour of his triumph he failed, because, no matter how efficient an organisation, no matter how far-sighted policy and arrangements may be, there is always the uncertain human element; there comes the point when human endurance can stand out no longer, when the struggle against the titan forces of Nature cannot be kept up. And then there is failure, though often a splendid failure.
Such was that of Captain Scott; he reached the goal he had aimed at for many years only to find that he had been forestalled by a month, and then, overtaken by unexpected bad weather, he and the men with him had to give up the struggle when within eleven miles of just one thing they stood in need of—fuel with which to cook the hot meals that meant life. The story is one that makes the blood course through the veins, makes the heart glow, makes the head bow in honour; because it is a story of matchless bravery, heroic fortitude and noble effort.
The Terra Nova, Scott’s ship, carried a complement of sixty men, each one of them picked because of his efficiency, each one having his allotted work. Geologists and grooms, physicist and photographers, meteorologists and motor-engineer, surgeons and ski-expert and seamen, men to care for dogs, and men to cook food—a civilised community of efficient, well-found, keen, and high-idealed men. It was, in fact, the best-equipped Polar expedition ever sent forth. Scott went out not merely to discover the South Pole, but also to gather data that should elucidate many problems of science. He took with him all the apparatus that would be necessary for this purpose, and when the Terra Nova left New Zealand, on November 26, 1910, there seemed good reason for the conviction that success must attend the expedition.
The voyage out to the Polar Sea was uneventful, except that early in December a great storm arose, and called for good seamanship to keep the vessel going; and even then she was very badly knocked about. She made a good deal of water, and the seamen had to pump hard and long; but at last, under steam and sail, the Terra Nova came through safely, and was able to go forward again, and by December 9 was in the ice-pack, which was that year much farther north than was expected. This held them up so that they could not go in the direction they wanted to, and had to drift where the pack would take them—northwards. Christmas Day found them still in the pack, and they celebrated the festivity in the good old English style. By the 30th they were out of the pack, and set off for Cape Crozier, the end of the Great Ice Barrier, where they had decided to fix their winter quarters. They could not get there, however, and they had to proceed to Cape Royds, passing along an ice-clad coast which showed no likely landing-place. Cape Royds was also inaccessible owing to the ice, and the ship was worked to the Skuary Cape, renamed Cape Evans, in the McMurdo Sound.
A landing was effected, and for a week the explorers worked like niggers getting stores ashore, disembarking ponies and dogs, unloading sledges, and the hundred and one other things necessary to success. The hut, which was brought over in pieces, was also taken ashore, a suitable site for it cleared, and the carpenters began erecting it.
During these early days misfortune fell upon them. One of their three motor-sledges, upon which great hopes were built, slipped through the ice and was lost.
By January 14 the station was almost finished, and Captain Scott went on a sledge trip to Hut Point, some miles to the west. Here Scott had wintered on his first expedition, which set out from England in 1901. In this his new expedition the hut was to be used for some of the party, and telephonic communication was installed. In due course the station was completed; there is no need for us to go into all the details of the hard work, or the exercising of animals and men, but a short description of this house on the ice may be of interest. It was a wooden structure, 50 feet long by 25 feet wide and nine feet to the eaves. It was divided into officers’ and men’s quarters; there was a laboratory and dark-room, galley and workshop. Books were there, pictures on the walls, stove to keep the right temperature. Stables were built on the north side, and a store-room on the south. In the hut itself was a pianola and a gramophone to wile away the monotony of the long winter night. Mr. Ponting, the camera artist, had a lantern with him, which was to provide vast entertainment in the way of picture-lectures on all kinds of subjects. Altogether, everything was as compact and comfortable as could be wished.
Naturally, there were various adventures during these early days; once the ship just managed to get away from the spot where almost immediately afterwards a huge berg crashed down, only a little later on the same day to become stranded. Luckily, by much hard work, the seamen managed to get her off.