The landing-place in its essential features closely resembles Cape Wild, being composed of a narrow low-lying spit connecting the main island with an outstanding rock. This, again, is separated from another higher outlying rock by a channel through which the seas surge with some force. At the inner end of the spit is a high shoulder of rock which bounds the glacier on this side, whilst on the far side of it is another similar shoulder. The main part of the island seems to be much more accessible than it is at Cape Wild, but the place seemed to be no more suitable as a site for a permanent camp, for there were signs that the spit is at times sea swept, and it is equally unsheltered from strong winds.
Penguins were present in large numbers. There were two varieties, ringed and gentoo, which had segregated into two camps, the ringed occupying the outer rock whilst the gentoos collected together on the inner buttress. The former, which derive their name from a thin but clearly defined ring round the throat, are quaint, deliberate little animals which show not the least fear of man. They are the most wonderful climbers and form their rookeries in the most inaccessible places, often on the faces of steep and precipitous rocks where the footing is very precarious. After coming in from their fishing it often takes them hours to reach their final positions, but they show extraordinary patience and perseverance as they hop from ledge to ledge and from one small foothold to another. They are often to be seen on the slopes of large icebergs out at sea. The gentoo is a larger, more brightly coloured bird, with orange beak and legs, and has a small white patch over each eye which gives it a curiously inane expression. It is more shy of man than any other of the Antarctic penguins, and when chased can travel at quite good speed and dodge cleverly. As we came up a number of both kinds were stalking slowly and solemnly along the beach. Amongst them moved little pigeon-like paddy birds (Chionis alba) which look very pretty at a distance, but at close vision are seen to have very ugly heads and beaks. They darted about with little quick steps and, like the penguins, watched us curiously, no doubt wondering what strange new creatures we might be. Dominican gulls, skuas and Cape pigeons flew all about the place, and numbers of blue-eyed shags perched on rocks close to the sea or, with necks outstretched and stiff as ramrods, flew with an intent air to their fishing in the bay.
I walked across the spit to find a beach on the other side leading down to a small bay. My mind was immediately set at rest regarding our blubber requirements, for, lying about in the shelter of rocks and large pieces of stranded glacier ice, were a number of seals and sea-elephants, including three enormous bulls, each of which weighed many tons, whilst on a strip of beach on the far side of the little bay was a large harem of cows. I shot those on the spit and set all hands to the flensing. I have a mind-picture of my men: McIlroy, Kerr, Carr and Macklin busily plying their knives, arms bare to the shoulders and red with blood. Soon the place resembled a shambles. I loathed having to slaughter all these creatures, but the matter was one of the direst necessity, and I had to put aside any feelings of sentiment. I have never at any time countenanced the unnecessary taking of life, and whenever it has been necessary to kill I have always insisted that it should be done in the most humane way possible, and that steps would be taken to ensure that no wounded animal should escape.
The blubber was removed in large strips from the carcasses, and a party led by Jeffrey dragged it over the beach to the edge of the water. Another party secured it to lines and towed it out to the ship.
Whilst the flensing was in process a curious incident occurred. I had given orders for a dozen penguins to be killed. One gentoo, in taking flight, had splashed through a small pool of blood and came out with white waistcoat dyed a vivid red. He went to rejoin his fellows on the hill, but they, failing to recognize him in his new colourings, pecked at him so viciously that he at last drew away and went off, to stand disconsolate and solitary at the head of the beach. Some little while later Watts, who had not witnessed the incident, suddenly exclaimed with much excitement, “Look, there’s a new species of penguin! Quick! Somebody help me to catch him!” Taking pity on the penguin’s outcast condition I drove him into the sea, from which he returned clean and white, once more a normal penguin. This time his friends received him without comment.
Photo: Wilkins
SHACKLETON’S LAST ANCHORAGE