THE LONELINESS OF THE PACK
Note the Emperor Penguin on the floe
Photo: Wilkins
AN UNPLEASANT BUT NECESSARY DUTY—TAKING CRAB-EATER SEALS FOR FOOD
We soon began to meet old acquaintances in the form of crab-eater seals which, wakened from sleep on the floe, turned a curious eye in our direction and, scratching themselves the while with their queer hand-like flippers, pondered drowsily on the strange phenomenon which had come amongst them. Most of them seemed satisfied with their scrutiny, treating us as of no particular importance, and rolled over to sleep again. With their light silvery coats these are the most elegant of the southern seals and also the most active. They are characteristic of the pack, being found in large numbers about its free edge, where they obtain their living from the small crustacea of these regions, euphausiæ and amphipods. These small creatures live on the diatoms of which the Antarctic seas are so rich, and which often become embedded in the floe ice, which is stained brown or greenish-brown by their presence. Euphausiæ resemble small shrimps, and the amphipods are very like the sandhoppers of home beaches, but redder in colour. Whalers speak of them collectively as whale food, for they form the staple diet not only of the crab-eaters but of most of the Antarctic whales. It is an extraordinary thing that so large an animal as the whale should depend for its existence upon so small a creature, especially when one considers the millions necessary to make one meal. The side of natural history which interests me most is the consideration of animal habits, mode of life and source of food. There is something intensely fascinating about this study, but I confess to a lack of enthusiasm when it comes to a question of minute differences in structure and classification of species.
The ordinary whale has a gullet so small that one can scarcely pass one’s fist into it, and no whale could certainly ever have swallowed Jonah. The animal referred to in the Bible story is no doubt the Orca gladiator, which, though commonly known as the Killer whale, differs considerably in many features from the true whale. It is much better referred to by the name Killer only. It is smaller than the larger varieties of true whale, but it has immense jaws and a wide gullet, and lives not on whale food but on seals and penguins, and it is conceivable that it has on occasions accommodated a man; though whether it ever let one go again is a different matter. The killer is certainly an evil-looking monster. Before we had entered deeply into the pack we saw numbers of them gliding about us, driven smoothly forward by almost imperceptible movements of their powerful flukes, the downward strokes of which produce small whirlpools on the surface of the water. One could mark their progress by watching these whirlpools. Every now and then they rise to breathe, for they are not fish but mammals, and exhale a spout of fine vapour which in the distance looks like water. It is dangerous to cross leads of young ice whilst killers are about, for they are able by charging upwards from below to break through considerable thicknesses with their heads. The round holes produced in this way are quite common, and one frequently sees their evil heads and wicked little eyes appear suddenly above the surface, scattering fragments of ice in a wide circle. When sledging along newly frozen leads, it is customary to keep close in to solid ice, and when a crossing is necessary it is made as rapidly as possible.
By February 5th there was a certain amount of daylight all night, and we were not held up on account of darkness. The ice had increased all the time in density and thickness, and at times it was all we could do to push ahead. Already I began to feel the need of greater engine power, though the small size of the ship made her very handy to manœuvre, and we were able to dodge and squeeze past where a bigger ship would require to push and ram. For the man at the wheel the spell was no longer two hours of monotony, but a period of hard work for which he shed his bulky garments, finding all the warmth he required in the exercise entailed. It was only when we entered the leads that we could keep a steady course, and usually the commands, “Port! Steady! Starboard!” etc., followed each other in rapid succession as we turned and twisted and wriggled our way ahead.
Worsley appeared again to-day. This evergreen youth of fifty years certainly made a rapid recovery, for I did not think when I saw him after his accident that he would be up so soon. Although a very good patient, he chafed so much at his confinement to bed that Macklin thought it better to let him out of his bunk, taking, however, the precaution to strap and bandage his injured parts in such a way that he could not do himself much harm, and was unable to make any attempt to climb aloft—which is the first thing he would have wished to do! He was keenly anxious to take his watch, and I must confess I was looking forward to his return to duty, for Jeffrey and I had been doing “watch and watch” alternately, and I had to be frequently on deck during my watch below, which under the arduous circumstances was a heavy strain.