At daybreak on the 24th steam was raised and we continued south, pushing through pancake ice which contained many heavy floes. Seen from aloft the pancake formation makes a most beautiful mosaic. Much of our finest art is surpassed by Nature, and in these southern regions there is much to attract those who have an artistic temperament.

The ice rapidly increased in thickness, and by noon we were again held up by dense impenetrable pack in position lat. 68° 32´ S. and 0° 5´ E. long. To the south the outlook was hopeless. I climbed to the crow’s nest to scan the horizon to the southward, but saw only closely packed and heavy ice stretching away to the horizon, whilst in the sky was a strongly marked ice-blink. It was bitterly disappointing. There was no alternative but to retrace our steps and work to the westward. I went below, where once more I pulled out all the charts and examined again the records of old explorers in these regions. I had a long talk with Worsley and Kerr. The season was well advanced; the Quest had neither the driving power nor the amount of coal to enable me to batter hard at heavy floe. As a matter of fact, I do not think that any ship, however powerful, could have made any impression on the stuff to the south of us. As far as finding land in this segment was concerned I felt that we had shot our bolt. I was, however, determined to have another try, and to make Cape Town my base, where I could overhaul and refit my ship, where there was a big supply of good winter stores and equipment, and where I could readjust the personnel. I intended to make the start early in the season, and I felt confident that with the time to spare to enable us to wait for the ice to move we should reach new land.

My intention was now to make as directly as possible for the charted position of “Ross’s Appearance of Land,” the accuracy of which I hoped either to verify or to disprove, and to take a series of soundings on the spot. We should by that time be very short of coal and consequently also in need of ballast. I determined, therefore, to call at Elephant Island, where I felt sure we would find sea-elephants in sufficient numbers to supply us with blubber as fuel. Blubber is by no means an ideal form of fuel for the furnace, for it burns with a fierce, hot flame and is very messy. Mixed judiciously with coal, however, I knew it would materially help to spin out the supply. I hoped, also, to be able to take aboard a quantity of sand or shingle as ballast. From there I proposed proceeding to Deception Island to coal, and thence return to South Georgia.

At this point I must mention that which is not a pleasant subject, but one which should not be glossed over, because it indicates what is a most important feature in the preparation for a polar expedition: the choice of personnel. It is a matter which requires the greatest possible care, for one discordant or unadaptable spirit can do a vast amount of harm in infecting others.

There can be no doubt that since leaving South Georgia we had had a very wearing time and one which tried the temper and patience of all hands. It must be admitted that before leaving England the arrangements for the comfort of the personnel had in some directions been overlooked, and long-continued discomfort is bound sooner or later to have an effect upon the temper. Life on board ship entails a certain amount of dull routine, providing at times an amount of exhausting work but very little active exercise. We had experienced long spells of bad weather, with a large proportion of dull, grey days and little sunshine. I therefore expected and was prepared to find that individuals would experience periods of irritability, and that things would not always run as smoothly as might be desired. The personnel had been selected from men of marked individual character, and in order that a body of men of this type shall be able to live in absolute harmony over a long period of time it is necessary that an outstanding quality of each shall be a good “give and take” sporting spirit. The effect of one or two selfish and discordant natures can easily be understood. There was surprisingly little friction amongst the various members of the expedition, which is due largely to the sound qualities of the nucleus of old, tried men.

I began to be aware, however, about this time of an amount of dissatisfaction and grumbling occurring in both the forward and after-messes that I did not like. Men who sat at table with me and to a certain extent enjoyed my confidence discussed and freely criticized expedition affairs with members of the after-mess. Of this I had ample confirmation. Some of those thus employed were officers who from their position on the ship should have been my most loyal supporters. In the after-mess also I was surprised to find that the men affected were those in whom I had placed the most implicit trust. It was a condition of things that required prompt measures. I assembled each mess in turn, and going straight to the point told them that further continuance would be met with the most drastic treatment. I pointed out that although I would at all times welcome suggestions from the officers and scientific staff, and would consider any reasonable complaints, I could consider no selfish or individual interests, and my own decision must be final and end discussion of the matter.

I was glad to notice an immediate improvement.

On February 25th we passed through a lot of loose ice, and in the evening entered a patch of heavy, old, deeply stained diatomaceous floes. Scores of crab-eater seals lay asleep on them in batches of five or six. Passing close to one piece on which six were lying in a clump, I laid the ship alongside and with my heavy rifle shot them all. I sent Macklin, with Douglas and Argles, on to the floe to secure them, which is best done by passing a strop round the body and tightening it close up under the flippers. Having fixed up a block and tackle we hauled them aboard—an awkward job on account of the swell in which the Quest rolled heavily. In the subsequent flensing Douglas jabbed his knee, the knife penetrating the joint. The wound itself was small, but Macklin insisted on absolute rest until he could be sure that there was no infection. Carr also cut his finger. These accidents were largely due to the movement of the ship, which rendered the operation a difficult one. Two inexperienced men wielding their knives on the same seal are a source of danger to each other, for with the sweeping strokes employed there is the chance of a mutilating cut. I always insisted in cases like this that only one man at a time should have a knife in his hand.

Watts succeeded in getting Greenwich time by wireless from Rio de Janeiro, which enabled us to check our chronometers. Long-distance messages were not easily obtained owing to bad atmospheric conditions, which produce loud noises in the ear-pieces.

By February 28th, as a result of our depleted bunkers, the ship was very light and ill-ballasted. I told Worsley to remove from the decks all heavy gear and place it below, for which purpose I arranged to clear the coal from the forward part of the bunkers and put it aft into the side pockets. I divided the men into two working parties, one to go down in the morning, consisting of McIlroy, Marr, Macklin and Dell, and one to work in the afternoon, of Wilkins, Carr, McLeod and Watts. So much vigour did the morning party put into this work, however, that at lunch-time there was little for the others to do beyond stow the gear from above.