View of the Great Ice Barrier
As the wind and sea increased the Nimrod pitched about, shifting everything that could be moved on deck. The seas began to break over her, and we were soon wet through, not to be properly dry again for many days. Our chief anxiety was the care of the ponies, and looking back now to those days, it remains wonderful to me how they survived the hardships that fell to their lot.
The Nimrod had—owing to her deeply loaded condition—begun the voyage like a reluctant child being dragged to school, but as the gale increased in vehemence she seemed to throw off the sluggishness which possessed her, when she had found herself outward bound at the end of a tow-line for the first time in her strenuous life of forty years. Now that the tow-line was but little use—save to steady us in the furious gale—the Nimrod began to play her own hand, and marvellously well did she play it. So furiously did the gale blow that on the morning of the 5th I told Captain England to signal and ask the Koonya to pour oil on the water, but although this helped us to a certain extent it did not prevent the heaviest seas from breaking on board. The Nimrod rolled over fifty degrees from the perpendicular to each side; how much more than that I cannot say for the indicator was only marked up to fifty degrees, and the pointer had passed that mark. Under these circumstances it was but natural that the sturdy ponies had their strength taxed to the utmost to keep their footing. It was impossible to sling them, for they were only half-broken, and an attempt to put a sling under one nearly drove it crazy with fright. On the night of the 5th during an extra heavy roll one of the ponies slipped, and when the ship rolled the opposite way it turned right over on its back and could not regain its footing. All our attempts to get "Doctor," as he was called, upon his legs failed, and regretfully I had to order him to be shot.
CHAPTER VI
THE ANTARCTIC CIRCLE
The continuous bad weather was attributed by some on board to the fact that we had captured an albatross on the second day out. It is generally supposed by seamen to be unlucky to kill this bird, but as we did it for the purposes of scientific collections and not with the wantonness of the "Ancient Mariner," the superstitious must seek another reason for the bad weather.
The storm increased until, by midnight on the 6th, the squalls were of hurricane force, and the morning of the 7th brought no relief. Seas came on board with more frequency than ever, finding out any odd article that had escaped our vigilance. At one time a sack of potatoes was washed on to the deck and the contents were floating in two or three feet of water, but standing on the poop I heard one of the crew, in no way disheartened, singing, as he gathered them up, "Here we go gathering nuts in May."
On the evening of January 8, the gale was so terrific that we had to signal to the Koonya to heave to. We did this with the sea on our starboard quarter, and one enormous wave smashed in part of the starboard bulwarks and did much—though happily no vital—damage. The galley was washed out and the fire extinguished, but so pluckily did the members of the cooking department work that never during this most uncomfortable time were we without a warm meal. This was really a great feat considering that the galley was only five feet square, and thirty-nine persons blessed with very hearty appetites had to be provided for.
To show what a state we were in I may mention that in the wardroom I salved a small wooden case from the water, and found that it contained a patent mixture for extinguishing fires!
At noon on January 11 we were in latitude 57° 38′ South, and longitude 178° 39′ West, but the weather, which had moderated for a day or two, again became as bad as ever. We had imagined that we might find difficulty in cleaning out the stables, but the herculean waves settled that difficulty in a most arbitrary and thorough manner.
On the 13th we had a warmer and pleasanter day than any we had experienced since leaving Lyttelton, and the whole vessel began to look like a veritable Petticoat Lane. Pyjamas and pillows of pulp that had once been pillows of feathers, books and boots, coats and carpet-slippers were lying in a mass on the poop deck so that they might dry. A few of us ventured on baths, but in the open air and with the temperature only two degrees above freezing-point it was chilly work.