On March 29th the wind abated a little, but it still continued to blow a full gale. The seas had not gone down and the Quest was thrown about like a plaything of the ocean, so that the man at the wheel had his work cut out to maintain the course and prevent her from broaching-to. I hung on, however, for we were making good progress in the right direction and saving coal.
We had irrevocably cut ourselves off from any chance of seeing our old winter quarters at Cape Wild, which was a great disappointment to us all, especially to McIlroy, who in the excitement of the rescue had left behind his diary. It was wrapped up in an oilskin covering and he had great hopes of recovering it. One writer says in his diary:
This is a great disappointment, but one meets many in this kind of work, and it is no good making a moan about them.... I would like to have got there all the same (he adds irrelevantly).
The rest of the run to South Georgia was not marked by any outstanding incident. On the 30th we saw a school of piebald porpoises, and Worsley reported seeing a “blackfish” about four feet in length, which leapt several times out of the water. Numerous birds tailed in our wake, increasing daily in numbers till we reached South Georgia. The winds dropped a little, but continued to blow freshly from the west-south-west on to our port quarter, enabling us to set all sail. The noon observation on the 31st showed a run of 197 miles. This was the Quest’s record, and was made without use of the engines. On the same day we were struck by an enormous breaking sea which almost broached us to and half filling the foresail dropped in a deluge on the deck-house, pouring in through the ventilators and flooding the cabins and wardroom. Much of it found its way through the main hatch, which is in the wardroom, and wetted many things in the hold. As we approached South Georgia we noticed about the ship a number of small seabirds somewhat resembling puffins, with short tail feathers and a very quick movement of the wings in flight. Worsley recognized them as “the same little flippity-flip-flop short-tailed birds that flew round the boat and annoyed the Boss so much,” referring to Sir Ernest Shackleton’s historic boat journey from Elephant Island to South Georgia during the last expedition.
On April 3rd we were in the vicinity of South Georgia and expected to make a landfall about dark. Worsley, who had not been able for some days to get an observation of the sun, was unable to pick up the island and we lay off all night. A number of soundings was taken. A large school of whales surrounded the ship and we could hear their “blowing” all about.
April 4th was also thick and hazy, and Worsley made a traversing cruise looking for the island, the proximity of which was indicated by the presence of birds, which we saw in hundreds with many young ones. In the afternoon the fog cleared and we caught sight of land, which we made for under steam. Night coming on, however, we stood off till daybreak.
At dawn on the 5th we recognized Anenkov Island, and decided to make for Leith Harbour round the north end of South Georgia.
During the afternoon we saw several steam whalers, a welcome sight after having had the world to ourselves for so long. At night there was a fine sunset, and outlined against the rosy horizon to the westward these little steamers made a very pretty picture.
We entered Leith Harbour at daybreak on April 6th and moored to the buoy. Scarcely had we made fast when we saw the motor-boat coming off with the familiar figure of Mr. Hansen and another smaller one wearing a white yachting cap. It proved to be Hussey, whom I had imagined back in England long before this. Mr. Hansen gave us a most cordial welcome, and I learned from Hussey all the news he had to tell.