At first I decided to bury Sir Ernest in South Georgia. I had no idea, however, of what Lady Shackleton’s wishes might be, and so ultimately decided to send him home to England. The doctors embalmed the body, which was placed in a lined coffin kindly made for us by Mr. Hansen, of Leith. There was a steamer named Professor Gruvel lying in Gritviken Harbour, which was due to sail in about ten days, and her captain, Captain Jacobsen, offered to carry the body as far as Monte Video, from where it could be sent on by mail boat.
As soon as the necessary arrangements had been made we carried him ashore. All hands mustered quietly and stood bareheaded as we lifted the coffin, covered by our silk white ensign, to the side of the Quest, and passed it over into a motor launch. All the time the rain soaked heavily down. From the pier we carried him to the little hospital and placed him in the room in which we had lived together seven years before.
The next day we carried him to the little church, which is situated so romantically at the foot of towering snow-covered mountains, over ground which he had so often trod with firm, eager steps in making the final preparations for the start of the Endurance expedition.
Here I said good-bye to the Boss, a great explorer, a great leader and a good comrade.
I had served with him in all his expeditions, twice as his second-in-command. I accompanied him on his great journey which so nearly attained the Pole, shared with him every one of his trials and vicissitudes in the South, and rejoiced with him in his triumphs. No one knew the explorer side of his nature better than I, and many are the tales I could tell of his thoughtfulness and his sacrifices on behalf of others, of which he himself never spoke.
Photo: Wilkins
PRINCE OLAF WHALING STATION