barrier. The bottom consisted of large igneous pebbles. The weather then became thick, and I held away to the westward, where the sky had given indications of open water, until 7 P.M., when we laid the ship alongside a floe in loose pack. Heavy snow was falling, and I was anxious lest the westerly wind should bring the pack hard against the coast and jam the ship. The Nimrod had a narrow escape from a misadventure of this kind in the Ross Sea early in 1908.
We made a start again at 5 A.M. the next morning (January 12) in overcast weather with mist and snow showers, and four hours later broke through loose pack ice into open water. The view was obscured, but we proceeded to the southeast and had gained 24 miles by noon, when three soundings in lat. 74° 4’ S., long. 22° 48’ W. gave 95, 128, and 103 fathoms, with a bottom of sand, pebbles, and mud. Clark got a good haul of biological specimens in the dredge. The Endurance was now close to what appeared to be the barrier, with a heavy pack-ice foot containing numerous bergs frozen in and possibly aground. The solid ice turned away towards the northwest, and we followed the edge for 48 miles N. 60° W. to clear it.
Now we were beyond the point reached by the Scotia, and the land underlying the ice sheet we were skirting was new. The northerly trend was unexpected, and I began to suspect that we were really rounding a huge ice tongue attached to the true barrier edge and extending northward. Events confirmed this suspicion. We skirted the pack all night, steering northwest; then went west by north till 4 A.M. and round to southwest. The course at 8 A.M. on the 13th was south-southwest. The barrier at midnight was low and distant, and at 8 A.M. there was merely a narrow ice foot about two hundred yards across separating it from the open water. By noon there was only an occasional shelf of ice foot. The barrier in one place came with an easy sweep to the sea. We could have landed stores there without difficulty. We made a sounding 400 ft. off the barrier but got no bottom at 676 fathoms. At 4 P.M., still following the barrier to the southwest, we reached a corner and found it receding abruptly to the southeast. Our way was blocked by very heavy pack, and after spending two hours in a vain search for an opening, we moored the Endurance to a floe and banked fires. During that day we passed two schools of seals, swimming fast to the northwest and north-northeast. The animals swam in close order, rising and blowing like porpoises, and we wondered if there was any significance in their journey northward at that time of the year. Several young emperor penguins had been captured and brought aboard on the previous day. Two of them were still alive when the Endurance was brought alongside the floe. They promptly hopped on to the ice, turned round, bowed gracefully three times, and retired to the far side of the floe. There is something curiously human about the manners and movements of these birds. I was concerned about the dogs. They were losing condition and some of them appeared to be ailing. One dog had to be shot on the 12th.
We did not move the ship on the 14th. A breeze came from the east in the evening, and under its influence the pack began to work off shore. Before midnight the close ice that had barred our way had opened and left a lane along the foot of the barrier. I decided to wait for the morning, not wishing to risk getting caught between the barrier and the pack in the event of the wind changing. A sounding gave 1357 fathoms, with a bottom of glacial mud. The noon observation showed the position to be lat. 74° 09’ S., long. 27° 16’ W. We cast off at 6 A.M. on the 15th in hazy weather with a northeasterly breeze, and proceeded along the barrier in open water. The course was southeast for sixteen miles, then south-southeast. We now had solid pack to windward, and at 3 P.M. we passed a bight probably ten miles deep and running to the northeast. A similar bight
We made a start again at 5 A.M. the next morning (January 12) in overcast weather with mist and snow showers, and four hours later broke through loose pack ice into open water. The view was obscured, but we proceeded to the southeast and had gained 24 miles by noon, when three soundings in lat. 74° 4’ S., long. 22° 48’ W. gave 95, 128, and 103 fathoms, with a bottom of sand, pebbles, and mud. Clark got a good haul of biological specimens in the dredge. The Endurance was now close to what appeared to be the barrier, with a heavy pack-ice foot containing numerous bergs frozen in and possibly aground. The solid ice turned away towards the northwest, and we followed the edge for 48 miles N. 60° W. to clear it.
Now we were beyond the point reached by the Scotia, and the land underlying the ice sheet we were skirting was new. The northerly trend was unexpected, and I began to suspect that we were really rounding a huge ice tongue attached to the true barrier edge and extending northward. Events confirmed this suspicion. We skirted the pack all night, steering northwest; then went west by north till 4 A.M. and round to southwest. The course at 8 A.M. on the 13th was south-southwest. The barrier at midnight was low and distant, and at 8 A.M. there was merely a narrow ice foot about two hundred yards across separating it from the open water. By noon there was only an occasional shelf of ice foot. The barrier in one place came with an easy sweep to the sea. We could have landed stores there without difficulty. We made a sounding 400 ft. off the barrier but got no bottom at 676 fathoms. At 4 P.M., still following the barrier to the southwest, we reached a corner and found it receding abruptly to the southeast. Our way was blocked by very heavy pack, and after spending two hours in a vain search for an opening, we moored the Endurance to a floe and banked fires. During that day we passed two schools of seals, swimming fast to the northwest and north-northeast. The animals swam in close order, rising and blowing like porpoises, and we wondered if there was any significance in their journey northward at that time of the year. Several young emperor penguins had been captured and brought aboard on the previous day. Two of them were still alive when the Endurance was brought alongside the floe. They promptly hopped on to the ice, turned round, bowed gracefully three times, and retired to the far side of the floe. There is something curiously human about the manners and movements of these birds. I was concerned about the dogs. They were losing condition and some of them appeared to be ailing. One dog had to be shot on the 12th.
We did not move the ship on the 14th. A breeze came from the east in the evening, and under its influence the pack began to work off shore. Before midnight the close ice that had barred our way had opened and left a lane along the foot of the barrier. I decided to wait for the morning, not wishing to risk getting caught between the barrier and the pack in the event of the wind changing. A sounding gave 1357 fathoms, with a bottom of glacial mud. The noon observation showed the position to be lat. 74° 09’ S., long. 27° 16’ W. We cast off at 6 A.M. on the 15th in hazy weather with a northeasterly breeze, and proceeded along the barrier in open water. The course was southeast for sixteen miles, then south-southeast. We now had solid pack to windward, and at 3 P.M. we passed a bight probably ten miles deep and running to the northeast. A similar bight
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