CHAPTER II
THE LAST DAYS AT HOBART AND THE VOYAGE TO MACQUARIE ISLAND
``Let us probe the silent places, let us seek what luck
betide us;
Let us journey to a lonely land I know.
There's a whisper on the night-wind, there's a star agleam to
guide us.
And the Wild is calling, calling--Let us go.''--SERVICE.
It will be convenient to pick up the thread of our story
upon the point of the arrival of the `Aurora' in Hobart, after her long
voyage from London during the latter part of the year 1911.
Captain Davis had written from Cape Town stating that he expected to reach
Hobart on November 4. In company with Mr. C. C. Eitel, secretary of the
Expedition, I proceeded to Hobart, arriving on November 2.
Early in the morning of November 4 the Harbour Board received news that
a wooden vessel, barquentine-rigged, with a crow's-nest on the mainmast,
was steaming up the D'Entrecasteaux Channel. This left no doubt as to her
identity and so, later in the day, we joined Mr. Martelli, the assistant
harbour-master, and proceeded down the river, meeting the `Aurora' below
the quarantine ground.
We heard that they had had a very rough passage after leaving the Cape.
This was expected, for several liners, travelling by the same route, and
arriving in Australian waters a few days before, had reported exceptionally
heavy weather.
Before the ship had reached Queen's Wharf, the berth generously provided
by the Harbour Board, the Greenland dogs were transferred to the quarantine
ground, and with them went Dr. Mertz and Lieutenant Ninnis, who gave up
all their time during the stay in Hobart to the care of those important
animals. A feeling of relief spread over the whole ship's company as the
last dog passed over the side, for travelling with a deck cargo of dogs
is not the most enviable thing from a sailor's point of view. Especially
is this the case in a sailing-vessel where room is limited, and consequently
dogs and ropes are mixed indiscriminately.
Evening was just coming on when we reached the wharf, and, as we ranged
alongside, the Premier, Sir Elliot Lewis, came on board and bade us welcome
to Tasmania.
Captain Davis had much to tell, for more than four months had elapsed since
my departure from London, when he had been left in charge of the ship and
of the final arrangements.
At the docks there had been delays and difficulties in the execution of
the necessary alterations to the ship, in consequence of strikes and the
Coronation festivities. It was so urgent to reach Australia in time for
the ensuing Antarctic summer, that the recaulking of the decks and other
improvements were postponed, to be executed on the voyage or upon arrival
in Australia.
Captain Davis seized the earliest possible opportunity of departure, and
the `Aurora' dropped down the Thames at midnight on July 27, 1911. As she
threaded her way through the crowded traffic by the dim light
of a thousand flickering flames gleaming through the foggy atmosphere, the
dogs entered a protest peculiar to their ``husky'' kind. After a short preliminary
excursion through a considerable range of the scale, they picked up a note
apparently suitable to all and settled down to many hours of incessant and
monotonous howling, as is the custom of these dogs when the fit takes them.
It was quite evident that they were not looking forward to another sea voyage.
The pandemonium made it all but impossible to hear the orders given
for working the ship, and a collision was narrowly averted. During
those rare lulls, when the dogs' repertoire temporarily gave out, innumerable
sailors on neighbouring craft, wakened from their sleep, made the most of
such opportunities to hurl imprecations in a thoroughly nautical fashion
upon the ship, her officers, and each
and every one of the crew.
On the way to Cardiff, where a full supply of coal was to be shipped, a
gale was encountered, and much water came on board, resulting in damage
to the stores. Some water leaked into the living quarters and, on the whole,
several very uncomfortable days were spent. Such inconvenience at the outset
undoubtedly did good, for many of the crew, evidently not prepared for emergency
conditions, left at Cardiff. The scratch crew with which the `Aurora'journeyed
to Hobart composed for the most part of replacements made at Cardiff, resulted
in some permanent appointments of unexpected value to the Expedition.
At Cardiff the coal strike caused delay, but eventually
some five hundred tons of the Crown Fuel Company's briquettes were
got on board, and a final leave taken of English shores on August 4.
Cape Town, the only intermediate port of call, was reached on September
24, after a comparatively rapid and uneventful voyage. A couple of days
sufficed to load coal, water and fresh provisions, and the course was then
laid for Hobart.
Rough weather soon intervened, and Lieutenant Ninnis and Dr. Mertz, who
travelled out by the `Aurora' in charge of the sledging-dogs, had their
time fully occupied, for the wet conditions began to tell on their charges.
On leaving London there were forty-nine of these Greenland, Esquimaux sledging-dogs
of which the purchase and selection had been made through the offices of
the Danish Geographical Society. From Greenland they were taken to Copenhagen,
and from thence transhipped to London, where Messrs. Spratt took charge
of them at their dog-farm until the date of departure. During the voyage
they were fed on the finest dog-cakes, but they undoubtedly felt the need
of fresh meat and fish to withstand the cold and wet. In the rough weather
of the latter part of the voyage water broke continually over the deck,
so lowering their vitality that a number died from seizures, not properly
understood at the time. In each case death was sudden, and preceded by similar
symptoms. An apparently healthy dog would drop down in a fit, dying in a
few minutes, or during another fit within a few days. Epidemics, accompanied
by similar symptoms, are said to be common amongst these dogs in the Arctic
regions, but no explanation is given as to the nature of the disease. During
a later stage of the Expedition, when nearing Antarctica, several more of
the dogs were similarly stricken. These were examined by Drs. McLean and
Jones, and the results of post-mortems showed that in one case death was
due to gangrenous appendicitis, in two others to acute gastritis and colitis.
The dog first affected caused some consternation amongst the crew, for,
after being prostrated on the deck by a fit, it rose and rushed about snapping
to right and left. The cry of ``mad dog'' was raised. Not many seconds had
elapsed before all the deck hands were safely in the rigging, displaying
more than ordinary agility in the act. At short intervals, other men, roused
from watch below appeared at the fo'c'sle companion-way. To these the situation
at first appeared comic, and called forth jeers upon their faint-hearted
shipmates. The next moment, on the dog dashing into view, they found a common
cause with their fellows and sprang aloft. Ere many minutes had elapsed
the entire crew were in the rigging, much to the amusement of the officers.
By this time the dog had disappeared beneath the fo'c'sle head, and Mertz
and Ninnis entered, intending to dispatch it. A shot was fired and word
passed that the deed was done: thereupon the crew descended, pressing forward
to share in the laurels. Then it was that Ninnis, in the uncertain light,
spying a dog of similar markings wedged in between some barrels, was filled
with doubt and called out to Mertz that he had shot the wrong dog. In a
flash the crew had once more climbed to safety. It was some time after the
confirmation of the first execution that they could be prevailed upon to
descend.
Several litters of puppies were born on the voyage, but all except one succumbed
to the hardships of the passage.
The voyage from Cardiff to Hobart occupied eighty-eight days.
The date of departure south was fixed for 4 P.M. of Saturday, December 2,
and a truly appalling amount of work had to be done before then.
Most of the staff had been preparing themselves for special duties; in this
the Expedition was assisted by many friends.
A complete, detailed acknowledgment of all the kind help received would
occupy much space. We must needs pass on with the assurance that our best
thanks are extended to one and all.
Throughout the month of November, the staff continued to arrive in contingents
at Hobart, immediately busying themselves in their own departments, and
in sorting over the many thousands of packages in the great Queen's Wharf
shed. Wild was placed in charge, and all entered heartily into the work.
The exertion of it was just what was wanted to make us fit, and prepared
for the sudden and arduous work of discharging cargo at the various bases.
It also gave the opportunity of personally gauging certain qualities of
the men, which are not usually evoked by a university curriculum.
Some five thousand two hundred packages were in the shed, to be sorted over
and checked. The requirements of three Antarctic bases, and one at Macquarie
Island were being provided for, and consequently the most careful supervision
was necessary to prevent mistakes, especially as the omission of a single
article might fundamentally affect the work of a whole party. To assist
in discriminating the impedimenta, coloured bands were painted round the
packages, distinctive of the various bases.
It had been arranged that, wherever possible, everything should be packed
in cases of a handy size, to facilitate unloading and transportation; each
about fifty to seventy pounds in weight.
In addition to other distinguishing marks, every package bore a different
number, and the detailed contents were listed in a schedule for reference.
Concurrently with the progress of this work, the ship was again overhauled,
repairs effected, and many deficiencies made good. The labours of the shipwrights
did not interfere with the loading, which went ahead steadily during the
last fortnight in November.
The tanks in the hold not used for our supply of fresh water were packed
with reserve stores for the ship. The remainder of the lower hold and the
bunkers were filled with coal. Slowly the contents of the shed diminished
as they were transfered to the 'tween decks. Then came the overflow. Eventually,
every available space in the
ship was flooded with a complicated assemblage of gear, ranging from the
comparatively undamageable wireless masts occupying a portion of the deck
amidships, to a selection of prime Australian cheeses which filled one of
the cabins, and pervaded the ward-room with an odour which remained one
of its permanent associations.
Yet, heterogeneous and ill-assorted as our cargo may have appeared to the
crowds of curious onlookers, Captain Davis had arranged for the stowage
of everything with a nicety which did him credit. The complete effects of
the four bases were thus kept separate, and available in whatever order
was required. Furthermore, the removal of one unit would not break the stowage
of the remainder, nor disturb the trim of the ship.
At a late date the air-tractor sledge arrived. The body was contained in
one huge case which, though awkward, was comparatively light, the case weighing
much more than the contents. This was securely lashed above the maindeck,
resting on the fo'c'sle and two boat-skids.
As erroneous ideas have been circulated regarding the ``aeroplane sledge,''
or more correctly ``air-tractor sledge,'' a few words in explanation will
not be out of place.
This machine was originally an R.E.P. monoplane, constructed by Messrs.
Vickers and Co., but supplied with a special detachable, sledge-runner undercarriage
for use in the Antarctic, converting it into a tractor for hauling sledges.
It was intended that so far as its role as a flier was concerned, it would
be chiefly exercised for the purpose of drawing public attention to the
Expedition in Australia, where aviation was then almost unknown. With this
object in view, it arrived in Adelaide at an early date accompanied by the
aviator,
Lieutenant Watkins, assisted by Bickerton. There it unfortunately came to
grief, and Watkins and Wild narrowly escaped death in the accident. It was
then decided to make no attempt to fly in the Antarctic; the wings were
left in Australia and Lieutenant Watkins returned to England. In the meantime,
the machine was repaired and forwarded to Hobart.
Air-tractors are great consumers of petrol of the highest quality. This
demand, in addition to the requirements of two wireless plants and a motor-launch,
made it necessary to take larger quantities than we liked of this dangerous
cargo. Four thousand gallons of ``Shell'' benzine and one thousand three
hundred gallons of ``Shell'' kerosene, packed in the usual four-gallon export
tins, were carried as a deck cargo, monopolizing the whole of the poop-deck.
For the transport of the requirements of the Macquarie Island Base, the
s.s. `Toroa', a small steam-packet of one hundred and twenty tons, trading
between Melbourne and Tasmanian ports, was chartered. It was arranged that
this auxiliary should leave Hobart several days after the `Aurora', so as
to allow us time, before her arrival, to inspect the island, and to select
a suitable spot for the location of the base. As she was well provided with
passenger accommodation, it was arranged that the majority of the land party
should journey by her as far as Macquarie Island.
The Governor of Tasmania, Sir Harry Barron, the Premier, Sir Elliot Lewis,
and the citizens of Hobart extended to us the greatest hospitality during
our stay, and, when the time came, gave us a hearty send-off.
Saturday, December 2 arrived, and final preparations were made. All the
staff were united for the space of an hour at luncheon. Then began the final
leave-taking. ``God speed'' messages were received from far and wide, and
intercessory services were held in the Cathedrals of Sydney and Hobart.
We were greatly honoured at this time by the reception of kind wishes from
Queen Alexandra and, at an earlier date, from his Majesty the King.
Proud of such universal sympathy and interest, we felt stimulated to greater
exertions.
On arrival on board, I found Mr. Martelli, who was to pilot us down the
river, already on the bridge. A vast crowd blockaded the wharf to give us
a parting cheer.
At 4 P.M. sharp, the telegraph was rung for the engines, and, with a final
expression of good wishes from the Governor and Lady Barron, we glided out
into the channel, where our supply of dynamite and cartridges was taken
on board. Captain G. S. Nares, whose kindness we had previously known, had
the H.M.S. `Fantome' dressed in our honour, and lusty cheering reached us
from across the water.
As we proceeded down the river to the Quarantine Station where the dogs
were to be taken off, Hobart looked its best, with the glancing sails of
pleasure craft skimming near the foreshores, and backed by the stately,
sombre mass of Mount Wellington. The ``land of strawberries and cream'',
as the younger members of the Expedition had come to regard it, was for
ever to live pleasantly in our memories, to be recalled a thousand times
during the adventurous months which followed. Mr. E. Joyce, whose name is
familiar in connexion with previous Antarctic expeditions, and who had travelled
out from London on business of the Expedition, was waiting in mid-stream
with thirty-eight dogs, delivering them from a ketch. These were passed
over the side and secured at intervals on top of the deck cargo.
The engines again began to throb, not to cease until the
arrival at Macquarie Island. A few miles lower down the channel, the Premier,
and a number of other friends and well-wishers who had followed in a small
steamer, bade us a final adieu.
Behind lay a sparkling seascape and the Tasmanian littoral; before, the
blue southern ocean heaving with an ominous swell. A glance at the barograph
showed a continuous fall, and a telegram from Mr. Hunt, Head of the Commonwealth
Weather Bureau, received a few hours previously, informed us of a storm-centre
south of New Zealand, and the expectation of fresh south-westerly winds.
The piles of loose gear presented an indescribable scene of chaos, and,
even as we rolled lazily in the increasing swell, the water commenced to
run about the decks. There was no time to be lost in securing movable articles
and preparing the ship for heavy weather. All hands set to work.
On the main deck the cargo was brought up flush with the top of the bulwarks,
and consisted of the wireless masts, two huts, a large motor-launch, cases
of dog biscuits and many other sundries. Butter to the extent of a couple
of tons was accommodated chiefly on the roof of the main deck-house, where
it was out of the way of the dogs. The roof of the chart-house, which formed
an extension of the bridge proper, did not escape, for the railing offered
facilities for lashing sledges; besides, there was room for tide-gauges,
meteorological screens, and cases of fresh eggs and apples. Somebody happened
to think of space unoccupied in the meteorological screens, and a few fowls
were housed therein.
On the poop-deck there were the benzine, sledges, and the chief magnetic
observatory. An agglomeration of instruments and private gear rendered the
ward-room well nigh impossible of access, and it was some days before everything
was jammed away into corners. An unoccupied five-berth cabin was filled
with loose instruments, while other packages were stowed into the occupied
cabins, so as to almost defeat the purpose for which they were intended.
The deck was so encumbered that only at rare intervals was it visible. However,
by our united efforts everything was well secured by 8 P.M.
It was dusk, and the distant highlands were limned in silhouette against
the twilight sky. A tiny, sparkling lamp glimmered from Signal Hill its
warm farewell. From the swaying poop we flashed back, ``Good-bye, all snug
on board.''
Onward with a dogged plunge our laden ship would press. If `Fram' were ``Forward,''
_she_ was to be hereafter our `Aurora' of ``Hope''--the Dawn of undiscovered
lands.
Home and the past were effaced in the shroud of darkness, and thought leapt
to the beckoning South--the ``land of the midnight sun.''
During the night the wind and sea rose steadily, developing into a full
gale. In order to make Macquarie Island, it was important not to allow the
ship to drive too far to the east, as at all times the prevailing winds
in this region are from the west. Partly on this account, and partly because
of the extreme severity of the gale, the ship was hove to with head to wind,
wallowing in mountainous seas. Such a storm, witnessed from a large vessel,
would be an inspiring sight, but was doubly so in a small craft, especially
where the natural buoyancy had been largely impaired by overloading. With
an unprecedented quantity of deck cargo, amongst which were six thousand
gallons of benzine, kerosene and spirit, in tins which were none too strong,
we might well have been excused a lively anxiety during those days. It seemed
as if no power on earth could save the loss of at least part of the deck
cargo. Would it be the indispensable huts amidships, or would a sea break
on the benzine aft and flood us with inflammable liquid and gas?
By dint of strenuous efforts and good seamanship, Captain Davis with his
officers and crew held their own. The land parties assisted in the general
work, constantly tightening up the lashings and lending ``beef,'' a sailor's
term for man-power, wherever required. For this purpose the members of the
land parties were divided into watches, so that there were always a number
patrolling the decks.
Most of us passed through a stage of sea-sickness, but,
except in the case of two or three, it soon passed off. Seas deluged all
parts of the ship. A quantity of ashes was carried down into the bilge-water
pump and obstructed the steam-pump. Whilst this was being cleared, the emergency
deck pumps had to be requisitioned. The latter were available for working
either by hand-power or by chain-gearing from
the after-winch.
The deck-plug of one of the fresh-water tanks was carried away and, before
it was noticed, sea-water had entered to such an extent as to render our
supply unfit for drinking. Thus we were, henceforth, on a strictly limited
water ration.
The wind increased from bad to worse, and great seas continued to rise until
their culmination on the morning of December 5, when one came aboard on
the starboard quarter, smashed half the bridge and carried it away. Toucher
was the offlcer on watch, and no doubt thought himself lucky in being, at
the time, on the other half of the bridge.
The deck-rings holding the motor-launch drew, the launch itself was sprung
and its decking stove-in.
On the morning of December 8 we found ourselves in latitude 49 degrees 56
minutes S. and longitude 152 degrees 28' E., with the weather so far abated
that we were able to steer a course for Macquarie Island.
During the heavy weather, food had been prepared only with the greatest
difficulty. The galley was deluged time and again. It was enough to dishearten
any cook, repeatedly finding himself amongst kitchen debris of all kinds,
including pots and pans full and empty. Nor did the difficulties end in
the galley, for food which survived until its arrival on the table, though
not allowed much time for further mishap, often ended in a disagreeable
mass on the floor or, tossed by a lurch of more than usual suddenness, entered
an adjoining cabin. From such localities the elusive piice de resistance
was often rescued.
As we approached our rendezvous, whale-birds** appeared. During the heavy
weather, Mother Carey's chickens only were seen, but, as the wind abated,
the majestic wandering albatross, the sooty albatross
and the mollymawk followed in our wake.
** For the specific names refer to Appendix which is a glossary of special
and unfamiliar terms.
Whales were observed spouting, but at too great a distance to be definitely
recognized.
At daybreak on December 11 land began to show up, and by 6 A.M. we were
some sixteen miles off the west coast of Macquarie Island, bearing on about
the centre of its length.
In general shape it is long and narrow, the length over all being twenty-one
miles. A reef runs out for several miles at both extremities of the main
island, reappearing again some miles beyond in isolated rocky islets: the
Bishop and Clerk nineteen miles to the southward and the Judge and Clerk
eight miles to the north.
The land everywhere rises abruptly from the sea or from an exaggerated beach
to an undulating plateau-like interior, reaching a maximum elevation of
one thousand four hundred and twenty-five feet. Nowhere is there a harbour
in the proper sense of the word, though six or seven anchorages are recognized.
The island is situated in about 55 degrees S. latitude, and the climate
is comparatively cold, but it is the prevalence of strong winds that is
the least desirable feature of its weather.
Sealing, so prosperous in the early days, is now carried on in a small way
only, by a New Zealander, who keeps a few men stationed at the island during
part of the year for the purpose of rendering down sea elephant and penguin
blubber. Their establishment was known to be at the north end of the island
near the best of the anchorages.
Captain Davis had visited the island in the `Nimrod', and
was acquainted with the three anchorages, which are all on the east side
and sheltered from the prevailing westerlies. One of the old-time sealers
had reported a cove suitable for small craft at the south-western corner,
but the information was scanty, and recent mariners had avoided that side
of the island. On the morning of our approach the breeze was from the south-east,
and, being favourable, Captain Davis proposed a visit.
By noon, Caroline Cove, as it is called, was abreast of us. Its small dimensions,
and the fact that a rocky islet for the most part blocks the entrance, at
first caused some misgivings as to its identity.
A boat was lowered, and a party of us rowed in towards the entrance, sounding
at intervals to ascertain whether the `Aurora' could make use of it, should
our inspection prove it a suitable locality for the land station.
We passed through a channel not more than eighty yards wide, but with deep
water almost to the rocks on either side. A beautiful inlet now opened to
view. Thick tussock-grass matted the steep hillsides, and the rocky shores,
between the tide-marks as well as in the depths below, sprouted with a profuse
growth of brown kelp. Leaping out of the water in scores around us were
penguins of several varieties, in their actions reminding us of nothing
so much as shoals of fish chased by sharks. Penguins were in thousands on
the uprising cliffs, and from rookeries near and far came an incessant din.
At intervals along the shore sea elephants disported their ungainly masses
in the sunlight. Circling above us in anxious haste, sea-birds of
many varieties gave warning of our near approach to their nests. It was
the invasion by man of an exquisite scene of primitive nature.
Macquarie Island
After the severe weather experienced, the relaxation made
us all feel like a band of schoolboys out on a long vacation.
A small sandy beach barred the inlet, and the whaleboat was directed towards
it. We were soon grating on the sand amidst an army of Royal penguins; picturesque
little fellows, with a crest and eyebrows of long golden-yellow feathers.
A few yards from the massed ranks of the penguins was a mottled sea-leopard,
which woke up and slid into the sea as we approached.
Several hours were spent examining the neighbourhood. Webb and Kennedy took
a set of magnetic observations, while others hoisted some cases of stores
on to a rocky knob to form a provision depot, as it was quickly decided
that the northern end of the island was likely to be more suitable for a
permanent station.
The Royal penguins were almost as petulant as the Adelie penguins which
we were to meet further South. They surrounded us, pecked at our legs and
chattered with an audacity which defies description. It was discovered that
they resented any attempt to drive them into the sea, and it was only after
long persuasion that a bevy took to the water. This was a sign of a general
capitulation, and some hundreds immediately followed, jostling each other
in their haste, squawking, whirring their flippers, splashing and churning
the water, reminding one of a crowd of miniature surf-bathers. We followed
the files of birds marching inland, along the course of a tumbling stream,
until at an elevation of some five hundred feet, on a flattish piece of
ground, a huge rookery opened out--acres and acres of birds and eggs.
In one corner of the bay were nests of giant petrels in which sat huge downy
young, about the size of a barn-door fowl, resembling the grotesque, fluffy
toys which might be expected to hang on a Christmas-tree.
Here and there on the beach and on the grass wandered bright-coloured Maori
hens. On the south side of the bay, in a low, peaty area overgrown with
tussock-grass, were scores of sea elephants, wallowing in bog-holes or sleeping
at their ease.
Sea elephants, at one time found in immense numbers on all sub-antarctic
islands, are now comparatively rare, even to the degree of extinction, in
many of their old haunts. This is the result of ruthless slaughter prosecuted
especially by sealers in the early days. At the present time Macquarie Island
is more favoured by them than probably any other known locality. The name
by which they are popularly known refers to their elephantine proportions
and to the fact that, in the case of the old males, the nasal regions are
enormously developed, expanding when in a state of excitement to form a
short, trunk-like appendage. They have been recorded up to twenty feet in
length, and such a specimen would weigh about four tons.
Arriving on the `Aurora' in the evening, we learnt that the ship's company
had had an adventure which might have been most serious. It appeared that
after dropping us at the entrance to Caroline Cove, the ship was allowed
to drift out to sea under the influence of the off-shore wind. When about
one-third of a mile north-west of the entrance, a violent shock was felt,
and she slid over a rock which rose up out of deep water to within about
fourteen feet of high-water level; no sign of it appearing on the surface
on account of the tranquil state of the sea. Much apprehension was felt
for the hull, but as no serious leak started, the escape was considered
a fortunate one. A few soundings had been made proving a depth of four hundred
fathoms within one and a half miles of the land.
A course was now set for the northern end of the island. Dangerous-looking
reefs ran out from many headlands, and cascades of water could be seen falling
hundreds of feet from the highlands to the narrow coastal flats.
The anchorage most used is that known as North-East Bay, lying on the eastern
side of a low spit joining the main mass of the island, to an almost isolated
outpost in the form of a flat-topped hill--Wireless Hill--some three-quarters
of a mile farther north. It is practically an open roadstead, but, as the
prevailing winds blow on to the other side of the island, quiet water can
be nearly always expected.
However, when we arrived at North-East Bay on the morning following our
adventure; a stiff south-east breeze was blowing, and the wash on the beach
put landing out of the question. Captain Davis ran in as near the coast
as he could safely venture and dropped anchor, pending the moderation of
the wind.
On the leeward slopes of a low ridge, pushing itself out on to the southern
extremity of the spit, could be seen two small huts, but no sign of human
life. This was not surprising as it was only seven o'clock. Below the huts,
upon low surf-covered rocks running out from the beach, lay a small schooner
partly broken up and evidently a
recent victim. A mile to the southward, fragments of another wreck protruded
from the sand.
We were discussing wrecks and the grisly toll which is levied by these dangerous
and uncharted shores, when a human figure appeared in front of one of the
huts. After surveying us for a moment, he disappeared within to reappear
shortly afterwards, followed by a stream of others rushing hither and thither;
just as if he had disturbed a hornets' nest. After such an exciting demonstration
we awaited the next move with some expectancy.
Planks and barrels were brought on to the beach and a flagstaff was hoisted.
Then one of the party mounted on the barrel, and told us by flag signals
that the ship on the beach was the `Clyde', which had recently been wrecked,
and that all hands were safely on shore, but requiring assistance. Besides
the shipwrecked crew, there were half a dozen men who resided on the island
during the summer months for the purpose of collecting blubber.
The sealers tried repeatedly to come out to us, but as often as it was launched
their boat was washed up again on the beach, capsizing them into the water.
At length they signalled that a landing could be made on the opposite side
of the spit, so the anchor was raised and the ship steamed round the north
end of the island, to what Captain Davis proposed should be named Hasselborough
Bay, in recognition of the discoverer of the island. This proved an admirable
anchorage, for the wind remained from the east and south-east during the
greater part of our stay.
The sealers pushed their boat across the spit, and, launching it in calmer
water, came out to us, meeting the `Aurora' some three miles off the land.
The anchor was let go about one mile and a half from the head of the bay.
News was exchanged with the sealers. It appeared that there had been much
speculation as to what sort of a craft we were; visits of ships, other than
those sent down specially to convey their oil to New Zealand, being practically
unknown. For a while they suspected the `Aurora' of being an alien sealer,
and had prepared to defend their rights to the local fishery.
All was well now, however, and information and assistance were freely volunteered.
They were greatly relieved to hear that our auxiliary vessel, the `Toroa'
was expected immediately, and would be available for taking the ship-wrecked
crew back to civilization.
Owing to the loss of the `Clyde', a large shipment of oil in barrels lay
piled upon the beach with every prospect of destruction, just at a time
when the realization of its value would be most desirable, to make good
the loss sustained by the wreck. I decided, therefore, in view of their
hospitality, to make arrangements with the captain of the `Toroa' to take
back a load of the oil, upon terms only sufficient to recoup us for the
extension of the charter.
In company with Ainsworth, Hannam and others, I went ashore to select a
site for the station. As strong westerly winds were to be expected during
the greater part of the year, it was necessary to erect buildings in the
lee of substantial break-winds. Several sites for a hut convenient to a
serviceable landing-place were inspected at the north end of the beach.
The hut was eventually erected in the lee of a large mass of rock, rising
out of the grass-covered sandy flat at the north end of the spit.
It would have been much handier in every way, both in assembling the engines
and masts and subsequently in operating the wireless station, had the wireless
plant been erected on the beach adjacent to the living-hut. On the other
hand, a position on top of the hill had the advantage of a free outlook
and of increased electrical potential, allowing of a shorter length of mast.
In addition the ground in this situation proved to be peaty and sodden,
and therefore a good conductor, thus presenting an excellent ``earth'' from
the wireless standpoint. In short, the advantages of the hill-site outweighed
its disadvantages. Of the latter the most obvious was the difficult transportation
of the heavy masts, petrol-engine, dynamo, induction- generator and other
miscellaneous gear, from the beach to the summit--a vertical height of three
hundred feet.
To facilitate this latter work the sealers placed at our disposal a ``flying
fox'' which ran from sea-level to the top of Wireless Hill, and which they
had erected for the carriage of blubber. On inspecting it, Wild reported
that it was serviceable, but would first require to be strengthened. He
immediately set about effecting this with the
help of a party.
Hurley now discovered that he had accidentally left one of his cinematograph
lenses on a rock where he had been working in Caroline Cove. As it was indispensable,
and there was little prospect of the weather allowing of another visit by
the ship, it was decided that he should go on a journey overland to recover
it. One of the sealers, Hutchinson by name, who had been to Caroline Cove
and knew the best route to take, kindly volunteered to accompany Hurley.
The party was eventually increased by the addition of Harrisson, who was
to keep a look-out for matters of biological interest. They started off
at noon on December 13.
Although the greater part of the stores for the Macquarie Island party were
to arrive by the Toroa there were a few tons on board the `Aurora'. These
and the dogs were landed as quickly as possible. How glad the poor animals
were to be once more on solid earth! It was out of the question to let them
loose, so they were tethered at intervals along a heavy cable, anchored
at both ends amongst the tussock-grass. Ninnis took up his abode in the
sealers' hut so that he might the better look after their wants, which centred
chiefly on sea elephant meat, and that in large quantities. Webb joined
Ninnis, as he intended to take full sets of magnetic observations at several
stations in the vicinity.
Bickerton and Gillies got the motor-launch into good working order, and
by means of it the rest of us conveyed ashore several tons of coal briquettes,
the benzine, kerosene, instruments and the wireless masts, by noon on December
13.
Everything but the requirements of the wireless station was landed on the
spit, as near the north-east corner as the surf would allow. Fortunately,
reefs ran out from the shore at intervals, and calmer water could be found
in their lee. All gear for the wireless station was taken to a spot about
half a mile to the north-west at the foot of Wireless Hill, where the ``flying
fox'' was situated. Just at that spot there was a landing-place at the head
of a charming little boat harbour, formed by numerous kelp-covered rocky
reefs rising at intervals above the level of high water. These broke the
swell, so that in most weathers calm water was assured at the landing-place.
This boat harbour was a fascinating spot. The western side was peopled by
a rookery of blue-eyed cormorants; scattered nests of white gulls relieved
the sombre appearance of the reefs on the opposite side: whilst gentoo penguins
in numbers were busy hatching their eggs on the sloping ground beyond. Skua-gulls
and giant petrels were perched here and there amongst the rocks, watching
for an opportunity of marauding the nests of the non-predacious birds. Sea
elephants raised their massive, dripping heads in shoal and channel. The
dark reefs, running out into the pellucid water, supported a vast growth
of a snake-like form of kelp, whose octopus-like tentacles, many yards in
length, writhed yellow and brown to the swing of the surge, and gave the
foreground an indescribable weirdness. I stood looking out to sea from here
one evening, soon after sunset, the launch lazily rolling in the swell,
and the `Aurora' in the offing, while the rich tints of the afterglow paled
in the south-west.
I envied Wild and his party, whose occupation in connexion with the ``flying
fox'' kept them permanently camped at this spot.
The `Toroa' made her appearance on the afternoon of December 13, and came
to anchor about half a mile inside the `Aurora'. Her departure had been
delayed by the bad weather. Leaving Hobart late on December 7, she had anchored
off Bruni Island awaiting the moderation of the sea. The journey was resumed
on the morning of the 9th, and the passage made in fine weather. She proved
a handy craft for work of the kind, and Captain Holliman, the master, was
well used to the dangers of uncharted coastal waters.
Within a few minutes of her arrival, a five-ton motor-boat of shallow draught
was launched and unloading commenced.
Those of the staff arriving by the `Toroa' were housed ashore with the sealers,
as, when everybody was on board, the `Aurora' was uncomfortably congested.
Fifty sheep were taken on shore to feed on the rank grass until our departure.
A large part of the cargo consisted of coal for the `Aurora'. This was already
partly bagged, and in that form was loaded into the launches and whale-boats;
the former towing the latter to their destination. Thus a continuous stream
of coal and stores was passing from ship to ship, and from the ships to
the several landing-places on shore. As soon as the after-hold on the `Toroa'
was cleared, barrels of sea elephant oil were brought off in rafts and loaded
aft, simultaneously with the unloading forward.
We kept at the work as long as possible--about sixteen hours a day including
a short interval for lunch. There were twenty-five of the land party available
for general work, and with some assistance from the ship's crew the work
went forward at a rapid rate.
On the morning of the 15th, after giving final instructions to Eitel, who
had come thus far and was returning as arranged, the `Toroa' weighed anchor
and we parted with a cheer.
The transportation of the wireless equipment to the top of the hill had
been going on simultaneously with the un- loading of the ships. Now, however,
all were able to concentrate upon it, and the work went forward very rapidly.
All the wireless instruments, and much of the other paraphernalia of the
Macquarie Island party had been packed in the barrels, as it was expected
that they would have to be rafted ashore through the surf. Fortunately,
the weather continued to ``hold'' from an easterly direction, and everything
was able to be landed in the comparatively calm waters of Hasselborough
Bay; a circumstance which the islanders assured us was quite a rare thing.
The wireless masts were rafted ashore. These were of oregon pine, each composed
of four sections.
Digging the pits for bedding the heavy, wooden ``dead men,'' and erecting
the wireless masts, the engine-hut and the operating-hut provided plenty
of work for all. Here was as busy a scene as one could witness anywhere--some
with the picks and shovels, others with hammers and nails, sailors splicing
ropes and fitting masts, and a stream of men hauling the loads up from the
sea-shore to their destination on the summit.
Some details of the working of the ``flying fox'' will be of interest. The
distance between the lower and upper terminals was some eight hundred feet.
This was spanned by two steel-wire carrying cables, secured above by ``dead
men'' sunk in the soil, and below by a turn around a huge rock which outcropped
amongst the tussock-grass on the flat, some fifty yards from the head of
the boat harbour. For hauling up the loads, a thin wire line, with a pulley-block
at either extremity, rolling one on each of the carrying wires, passed round
a snatch-block at the upper station. It was of such a length that when the
loading end was at the lower station, the counterpoise end was in position
to descend at the other. Thus a freight was dispatched to the top of the
hill by filling a bag, acting as counterpoise, with earth, until slightly
in excess of the weight of the top load; then off it would start gathering
speed as it went.
Several devices were developed for arresting the pace as the freight neared
the end of its journey, but accidents were always liable to occur if the
counterpoise were unduly loaded. Wild was injured by one of these brake-devices,
which consisted of a bar of iron Iying on the ground about thirty yards
in front of the terminus, and attached by a rope with a loose-running noose
to the down-carrying wire. On the arrival of the counterpoise at that point
on the wire, its speed would be checked owing to the drag exerted. On the
occasion referred to, the rope was struck with such velocity that the iron
bar was jerked into the air and struck Wild a solid blow on the thigh. Though
incapacitated for a few days, he continued to supervise at the lower
terminal.
The larger sections of the wireless masts gave the greatest trouble, as
they were not only heavy but awkward. A special arrangement was necessary
for all loads exceeding one hundredweight, as the single wire carrier-cables
were not sufficiently strong. In such cases both carrier-cables were lashed
together making a single support, the hauling being done by a straight pull
on the top of the hill. The hauling was carried out to the accompanirrlcnt
of chanties, and these helped to relieve the strain of the Work. It was
a familiar sight to see a string of twenty men on the hauling-line scaring
the skua-gulls with popular choruses like ``A' roving'' and ``Ho, boys,
pull her along.'' In calm weather the parties at either terminal could communicate
by shouting but were much assisted by megaphones improvised from a pair
of leggings.
Considering the heavy weights handled and the speed at which the work was
done, we were fortunate in suffering only one breakage, and that might have
been more serious than it proved. The mishap in question
occurred to the generator. In order to lighten the load, the rotor had been
taken out. When almost at the summit of the hill, the ascending weight,
causing the carrying-wires to sag unusually low, struck a rock, unhitched
the lashing and fell, striking the steep rubble slope, to go bounding in
great leaps out amongst the grass to the flat below. Marvellous to relate,
it was found to have suffered no damage other than a double fracture of
the end-plate casting, which could be repaired. And so it was decided to
exchange the generators in the two equipments, as there would be greater
facilities for engineering work at the Main Base, Adelie Land. Fortunately,
the other generator was almost at the top of the ship's hold, and therefore
accessible. The three pieces into which the casting had been broken were
found to be sprung, and would not fit together. However, after our arrival
at Adelie Land, Hannam found, curiously enough, that the pieces fitted
into place perfectly--apparently an effect of contraction due to the cold--and
with the aid of a few plates and belts the generator was made as serviceable
as ever.
In the meantime, Hurley, Harrisson, and the sealer, Hutchinson, had returned
from their trip to Caroline Cove, after a most interesting though arduous
journey. They had camped the first evening at The Nuggets, a rocky point
on the east coast some four miles to the south of North-East Bay. From The
Nuggets, the trail struck inland up the steep hillsides until the summit
of the island was reached; then over pebble-strewn, undulating ground with
occasional small lakes, arriving at the west coast near its southern extremity.
Owing to rain and fog they overshot the mark and had to spend the night
close to a bay at the south-end. There Hurley obtained some good photographs
of sea elephants and of the penguin rookeries.
The next morning, December 15, they set off again, this time finding Caroline
Cove without further difficulty. Harrisson remained on the brow of the hill
overlooking the cove, and there captured some prions and their eggs. Hurley
and his companion found the lost lens and returned to Harrisson securing
a fine albatross on the way. This solitary bird was descried sitting on
the hill side, several hundreds of feet above sea-level. Its plumage was
in such good condition that they could not resist the impulse to secure
it for our collection, for the moment not considering the enormous weight
to be carried. They had neither firearms nor an Ancient Mariner's cross-bow,
and no stones were to be had in the vicinity--when the resourceful Hurley
suddenly bethought himself of a small tin of meat in his haversack, and,
with a fortunate throw, hit the bird on the head, killing the majestic creature
on the spot.
Shouldering their prize, they trudged on to Lusitania Bay, camping there
that night in an old dilapidated hut; a remnant of the sealing days.
Close by there was known to be a large rookery of King penguins; a variety
of penguin with richly tinted plumage on the head and shoulders, and next
in size to the Emperor--the sovereign bird of the Antarctic Regions. The
breeding season was at its height, so Harrisson secured and preserved a
great number of their eggs. Hutchinson kindly volunteered to carry the albatross
in addition to his original load. If they had skinned the bird, the weight
would have been materially reduced, but with the meagre appliances at hand,
it would undoubtedly have been spoiled as a specimen. Hurley, very ambitiously,
had taken a heavy camera, in addition to a blanket and other sundries. During
the rough and wet walking of the previous day, his boots had worn out and
caused him to twist a tendon in the right foot, so that he was not up to
his usual form, while Harrisson was hampered with a bulky cargo of eggs
and specimens.
Saddled with these heavy burdens, the party found the return journey very
laborious. Hurley's leg set the pace, and so, later in the day, Harrisson
decided to push on ahead in order to give us news, as they had orders to
be back as soon as possible and were then overdue. When darkness came on,
Harrisson was near The Nuggets, where he passed the night amongst the tussock-grass.
Hurley and Hutchinson, who were five miles behind, also slept by the wayside.
When dawn appeared, Harrisson moved on, reaching the north-end huts at about
9 A.M. Mertz and Whetter immediately set out and came to the relief of the
other two men a few hours later.
Fatigue and the lame leg subdued Hurley for the rest of the day, but the
next morning he was off to get pictures of the ``flying fox'' in action.
It was practically impossible for him to walk to the top of the hill, but
not to be baffled, he sent the cinematograph machine up by the ``flying
fox,'' and then followed himself. Long before reaching the top he realized
how much his integrity depended on the strength of the hauling-line and
the care of those on Wireless Hill.
During the latter part of our stay at the island, the wind veered to the
north and north-north-east. We took advantage of this change to steam round
to the east side, intending to increase our supply of fresh water at The
Nuggets, where a stream comes down the hillside on to the beach. In this,
however, we were disappointed, for the sea was breaking too heavily on the
beach, and so we steamed back to North-East Bay and dropped anchor. Wild
went off in the launch to search for a landing-place but found the sea everywhere
too formidable.
Signals were made to those on shore, instructing them to finish off the
work on the wireless plant, and to kill a dozen sheep--enough for our needs
for some days.
The ship was now found to be drifting, and, as the wind was blowing inshore,
the anchor was raised, and with the launch in tow we steamed round to the
calmer waters of Hasselborough Bay. At the north end of the island, for
several miles out to sea along the line of a submerged reef, the northerly
swell was found to be piling up in an ugly manner, and occasioned considerable
damage to the launch. This happened as the `Aurora' swung around; a sea
catching the launch and rushing it forward so that it struck the stern of
the ship bow-on, notwithstanding the fact that several of the men exerted
themselves to their utmost to prevent a collision. On arrival at the anchorage,
the launch was noticeably settling down, as water had entered at several
seams which had been started.
After being partly bailed out, it was left in the water with Hodgeman and
Close aboard, as we wished to run ashore as soon as the weather improved.
Contrary to expectation the wind increased, and it was discovered that the
`Aurora' was drifting rapidly, although ninety fathoms of chain had been
paid out. Before a steam-winch** was installed, the anchor could be raised
only by means of an antiquated man-power lever-windlass. In this type, a
see-saw-like lever is worked by a gang of men at each extremity, and it
takes a long time to get in any considerable length of chain. The chorus
and chanty came to our aid once more, and the long hours of heaving on the
fo'c'sle head were a bright if strenuous spot in our memories of Macquarie
Island. In course of time, during which the ship steamed slowly ahead, the
end came in sight--'Vast heaving!--but the anchor was missing. This put
us in an awkward situation, for the stock of our other heavy anchor had
already been lost. There was no other course but to steam up and down waiting
for the weather to moderate. In the meantime, we had been too busy to relieve
Close and Hodgeman, who had been doing duty in the launch, bailing for five
hours, and were thoroughly soaked with spray. All hands now helped with
the tackle, and we soon had the launch on board in its old position near
the main hatch.
** Fitted on return to Sydney after the first Antarctic
cruise.
These operations were unusually protracted for we were short handed; the
boatswain, some of the sailors and most of the land party being marooned
on shore. We were now anxious to get everybody on board and to be off. The
completion of their quarters was to be left to the Macquarie Island party,
and it was important that we should make the most of the southern season.
The wind blew so strongly, however, that there was no immediate prospect
of departure.
The ship continued to steam up and down. On the morning of December 23 it
was found possible to lower the whale-boat, and Wild went off with a complement
of sturdy oarsmen, including Madigan, Moyes, Watson and Kennedy, and succeeded
in bringing off the dogs. Several trips were made with difficulty during
the day, but at last all the men, dogs and sheep were brought off.
Both Wild and I went with the whale-boat on its last trip at dusk on the
evening of December 23. The only possible landing-place, with the sea then
running, was at the extreme north-eastern corner of the beach. No time was
lost in getting the men and the remainder of the cargo into the boat, though
in the darkness this was not easily managed. The final parting with our
Macquarie Island party took place on the beach, their cheers echoing to
ours as we breasted the surf and ``gave way'' for the ship.
CHAPTER III - FROM
MACQUARIE ISLAND TO ADELIE LAND
