The decks were thoroughly awash before very long, whole water piling methodically aboard at every roll and pitch; but spite of all this, having reached the bank, soundings commenced, and every hour, day and night, the machines were busy.
Maybe a brief description of the whole art of taking comprehensive soundings may appeal to the more scientifically minded of my readers. The skipper sets the ship on a definite course, and along this course we are steered steadily, with the lead constantly going, the depths ranging from one hundred to two hundred fathoms, until we fail to find bottom at three hundred. Knowing then that the ship is no longer above the bank, course is altered until soundings are picked up again; and so, by dint of a series of criss-crosses over the sea, the exact size, depth and relative shape of the bank is quite accurately learnt. Sounding is a delightful job, especially when you turn out for it during a cold, bleak, windy middle watch. The proceedings being illuminated by a flaring hurricane lamp, away goes the lead, one man “feeling” the wire as it whines over the lead, until there comes a sudden slackening of tension, whereupon the feeler cries, “Bottom,” and another man applies the brake, not suddenly for fear of mishap, but gently, collecting the strain by degrees. Then it is necessary to wind in the wire and weights by hand; and at “three hundred fathoms and no bottom,” on a deck that is as nearly vertical as ever a ship’s deck could be, with the ship curvetting friskily and water cascading aboard, it is excellent exercise. Watches of this kind can become very long and dreary.
It took three full days and nights of steady work to get an accurate charting of the bank, but when Commander Wild was satisfied that the work was thoroughly done we made back to Prince Olaf, and, anchoring there, had lunch in placid waters, greatly to our contentment of spirit. Our prayers of thankfulness went up high, they were so fervently uttered.
We remained at Prince Olaf for one clear day, spent chiefly in violent political arguments amongst our very mixed ship’s company; and then returned to Leith Harbour in heavy snow squalls, which covered the entire coast with glittering white. Fierce blizzards blinded us as we entered the harbour; and as the steam whistle lanyard carried away and I had to repair it, I found that my idea about the warmth of these latitudes was all wrong; it was cold—cold!
So strong was the wind that three attempts were necessary before we moored to the buoy. The winter now being properly set in, South Georgia looked a God-forsaken place enough to sadden any watching eyes.
On Friday, April 28, a general holiday was decreed for all hands. Fishing was attempted, but returning to the ship the boat was caught in a blizzard that necessitated a hard, cold pull; and the rest of the day was gorgeously spent in my bunk, delightfully reading and sleeping—with, perhaps, more sleeping than reading.
In Leith Harbour we rigged a new bowsprit to replace the one carried away and replenished our stores, and on May 2 left for Gritviken in very squally weather, the launch pulling us clear and the people ashore firing a salute of rockets. The last thing I heard as we moved off were the cheers of the honest Shetlanders. Outside the weather was glorious, and Mr. Wilkins put down his dredge, bringing up some beautiful samples of maritime life. Arriving at Gritviken at 1 p.m. we anchored with our big spare anchor, which required the entire ship’s company, together with half a dozen tackles and Portuguese windlasses to get overside. In the evening I went ashore with Commander Wild, Dr. Macklin and Dr. McIlroy to the magistrate’s house for a game of billiards. The magistrate, Mr. Binney, owned a remarkable dog, whose favourite diet appeared to be cigarette ash.
On May 3 a great work was commenced—our offering to our dead and revered leader. A great cairn was to be built on top of a high, noble bluff, commanding a magnificent view of the bay; and accordingly a large party put ashore, armed with shovels and picks, and, borrowing a couple of sledges from the magistrate, proceeded to the summit of the bluff. Mac commenced at once to dig out foundations; and as there were no suitable stones at hand, we others climbed a steep slope and quarried out the side of a hill a quarter of a mile away. Despite the labour this entailed we all worked with a will, for there was a definite feeling in all that Shackleton himself was directing our efforts as of old. His spirit seemed to hover over us, and we exulted in our tribute.
Mr. Douglas attempted to blast the rock nearer the side of the cairn, but had no success; so we continued our work all day, bringing the stones down the hill on the sledges, and by evening the cairn was three feet high.
Immediately after breakfast next day we went ashore again to continue our labours. Young ice had formed overnight on the water, and pulling the boat was no easy task. In order to expedite our work we lashed boxes on the sledges to increase their carrying capacity, but Dr. Macklin’s sledge came to grief at the foot of the slope and he had perforce to return to the magistrate’s for another. Up and down we went as hard as we could go, and in the course of the forenoon transported about ten tons of rock. Mac made an excellent job of the building, and whilst we ashore toiled hard, the engineers aboard fashioned a noble cross, and this was erected on the summit of the cairn in the afternoon.