Endurance, Deluxe Ed: The Greatest Adventure Story Ever Told by Alfred Lansing

by Alfred Lansing

  Shackleton and Worsley, meanwhile, had made a survey of sorts around the area and saw that it was very nearly impenetrable country. Except for the cove in which they were camped, the cliffs and glaciers rose almost perpendicularly.

  Consequently, Shackleton decided they would sail the Caird to the head of King Haakon Bay, a distance of about 6 miles. Their chart indicated that the terrain there was somewhat more hospitable, and they would also be 6 miles closer to Stromness Bay on the opposite side of the island where the whaling stations were situated.

  Short as this journey was, Shackleton felt the men were not yet equal to it, so they spent two days recuperating and eating sumptuously. Little by little, as they gained strength and the tension went out of their nerves, a marvelous feeling of security came over all of them, dimmed only by the knowledge of the responsibility they bore to the castaways back on Elephant Island.

  May 14 had been the day set for the trip to the head of the bay, but the weather in the morning was squally with rain, so the trip was postponed until the following day. In the afternoon there were encouraging signs of clearing. McNeish wrote: `I went to the top of the hill & had a lay on the grass & it put me in mind of old times at Home sitting on the hillside looking down at the sea.'

  They were up at dawn the following morning. The Caird was loaded and easily shoved downhill into the water. She had cleared the cove and entered the open bay at eight o'clock. A brisk northwesterly wind was blowing, and before long the sun broke through the clouds.

  It was an utterly carefree journey as the Caird drove smartly across the sparkling water. After a while they even began to sing. It occurred to Shackleton that they could easily have been mistaken for a picnic party out for a lark - except perhaps for their woebegone appearance.

  Shortly past noon they rounded a high bluff, and before them lay a sheltered, gently sloping beach of sand and pebbles. It was populated by hundreds of sea elephants, enough to keep them supplied with food and fuel indefinitely. They were ashore by twelve-thirty.

  The Caird was hauled above the reach of the water, and then they turned her over. McCarthy shored her up with a foundation of stones and when she was ready, they arranged their sleeping bags inside. It was decided to name the place `Peggotty Camp,' after the poor but honest family in 1)ickens's David Copperfield.

  Shackleton was extremely anxious to begin the journey, primarily because the season was getting on and the weather was bound to turn bad before long. In addition, the moon was now full, and they were certain to need its light while traveling at night. However, the next day, May 16, dawned cloudy and rainy, keeping them confined under the Caird nearly all day. They spent the time discussing the journey and McNeish busied himself fixing their boots for climbing. He had removed four dozen 2-inch screws from the Caird, and he fixed eight of them into each shoe to be worn by the members of the overland party.

  Again on May 17 the weather was not fit for travel, with squally winds and sleet blowing. Worsley went with Shackleton to the east, toward the extreme head of the bay, to reconnoiter inland as much as possible. It was not a very successful mission due to the poor visibility, though Shackleton satisfied himself that there appeared to be a snow slope leading from the head of the bay up toward the interior.

  They had first thought of hauling their supplies on a small sledge, and McNeish had put together a crude affair out of pieces of driftwood. But when they tried it out, it proved to be clumsy and hard to pull, and the idea was abandoned.

  May i 8 was another day of disagreeable weather, and Shackleton was almost beside himself to begin the journey. They spent a tense day going over their gear once more, and watching for a break in the weather.

  The decision had been made to travel light, even without sleeping bags. Each of the overland party was to carry his own allotment of three days' sledging rations and biscuits. In addition they were to take a filled Primus stove which carried enough fuel for six meals, plus a small pot for cooking and a half-filled box of matches. They had two compasses, a pair of binoculars, and about 50 feet of rope knotted together, along with the carpenter's adz for use as an ice axe.

  The only superfluous item Shackleton permitted was Worsley's diary.

  At dusk the break came. The sky showed signs of clearing. Shackleton met with McNeish, whom he was leaving in charge of the three men staying behind. Shackleton gave him his final instructions, and he wrote this letter in McNeish's diary:

  May i 8th, 1916

  South Georc is

  Sir

  I am about to try to reach Husvik on the East Coast of this island for relief of our party. I am leaving you in charge of the party consisting ofVincent, McCarthy yourself. You will remain here until relief arrives. You have ample seal food which you can supplement with birds and fish according to your skill.You are left with a double barrelled gun, So cartridges [and other rations] ... You also have all the necessary equipment to support life for an indefinite period in the event of my non-return.You had better after winter is over try and sail around to the East Coast. The course I am making towards Husvik is East magnetic.

  I trust to have you relieved in a few days.

  Yours faithfully

  E. H. SHACKLETON

  Chapter Two

  The others turned in, but Shackleton could not sleep, and he went outside repeatedly to check on the weather. It was clearing, but only very slowly. Worsley, too, got up about midnight to see how conditions were.

  However, by 2 a.m., the moon was shining down brilliantly, and the air was wonderfully clear. Shackleton said the time had come.

  A final hooch was prepared and they ate as quickly as they could. Shackleton wanted to get away with the least possible fuss in order not to emphasize the significance of their leaving in the minds of those who were staying behind. It took only a few minutes to gather up their meager equipment. Then they shook hands all around and Shackleton,Worsley, and Crean crawled out from under the Caird. McNeish accompanied them for about 200 yards, shook each of their hands again and wished them luck, then walked slowly back to Peggotty Camp.

  It was 3: 1 o a.m. The final journey had begun. The three men made their way along the shoreline to the head of the bay, then started upland, climbing a fairly steep, snow-covered slope.

  Shackleton was in the lead, and he set a brisk pace. For the first hour or so they trudged upward without a pause. But the snow underfoot was soft to about ankle depth, and they soon began to feel the strain in their legs. Fortunately, when they reached a height of about 2,500 feet the slope leveled off.

  On the chart they carried, only the coastline of South Georgia was shown - and a great deal of that was missing. The interior was blank. Thus, they could be guided only by what they could see, and Shackleton was terribly eager to determine what lay ahead. But about S a.m., a thick fog rolled in, shrouding everything in a diffused glow of luminescence in which even the snow beneath their feet was real only when they set foot on it. Shackleton thought it would be best if they roped themselves together for safety.

  By daybreak Worsley estimated that they had covered about ~ miles, and as the sun rose higher, the fog began to thin out. Peering ahead they saw an enormous snow-covered lake, just slightly to the left of their easterly course. The lake was a rare bit of good luck because it promised the opportunity of a level route across its entire length, and they started toward it.

  For an hour they followed an easy downhill route, though there was an increasing number of crevasses. At first these were thin and shallow, but before long they grew wider and deeper, and it soon became apparent that the three men were descending the face of a glacier. It was an unusual situation because glaciers rarely emptied into lakes - and yet there it was, stretching invitingly before them.

  By seven o'clock, however, the sun had risen high enough to burn away the last traces of the fog, and they suddenly saw that the lake extended all the way to the horizon.

  They were marching toward Possession Bay - the open sea, on the northern coa
st of South Georgia.

  They had, in fact, covered about 7 miles and almost crossed the island at a narrow neck. But it was of absolutely no use to them. Even if they could have descended the perpendicular headlands below them, there was no shoreline along which they might make their way. The glacier fell sheer into the sea. There was nothing to do but to retrace their steps, and they started back upland.

  The worst of it was that it cost them time. Given time, they could have probed and reconnoitered for the best route, resting when they felt the need and traveling only when they were fit, and when the weather was best. But they had dared all for the sake of speed. They had neither sleeping bags nor tents. And if they were caught in these mountains by a change of weather, they would be powerless to save themselves. The blizzards of South Georgia are considered among the worst on earth.

  It took two toilsome hours to regain the ground they had lost, and then they set off again toward the east. By eight-thirty they saw that a range of small mountains lay ahead, a series of ridges and spurs - four altogether, like the knuckles of a tightly clenched fist. Worsley figured that their route lay closest between the first and the second, and they set their course in that direction.

  At nine o'clock they paused for their first meal. A hole was dug in the snow and the Primus stove was placed in it. A mixture of sledging rations and biscuits was stirred up, and they ate it scalding hot. They were on the trail again by nine-thirty.

  From here the ascent became increasingly steep, and they labored upward, a foot at a time, with Shackleton in the lead. They climbed what seemed to be an almost vertical slope, cutting steps in its face with the adz.

  Finally, about eleven-fifteen, they gained the summit. Shackleton was the first to peer over. He saw beneath him a precipitous drop, ending in a chasm 1,500 feet below. It was strewn with the shattered fragments of ice that had plunged from where he crouched. He waved for the others to come see for themselves. There was no way down. Furthermore, to the right lay a chaotic mass of ice cliffs and crevasses - impassable territory. To the left was a steeply descending line of glaciers dropping away into the sea. But dead ahead - the direction in which their course lay - was a gently rising snow slope, stretching away for perhaps 8 miles. It was this they had to reach - if only they could get down to it.

  It had taken more than three hours of strenuous effort to reach the summit, but now the only thing to do was to retreat, to retrace their steps again and try to find a different way, perhaps around the second peak.

  They granted themselves five minutes' rest, then started down the way they had come. Physically the descent was relatively easy and took only an hour, but it was a disheartening business. When they reached the bottom, they skirted around the base of the mountain, making their way between the overhanging ice cliffs and a truly gigantic bergschrund - a crescent-shaped gully, a thousand feet deep and a mile and a half long, cut out by the wind.

  They paused at twelve-thirty to have another ration of hoosh, and then they started up again. It was a tortuous climb, much steeper than the first, and they had to cut steps with the adz beginning halfway up the face of the slope. The height and the exertion were a terrible strain and they found it impossible to keep going steadily. Every twenty minutes or so they sprawled on their backs with their legs and arms flung out, sucking in great gulps of the rarefied air.

  But finally, about three o'clock in the afternoon, they were in sight of the ridge - a cap of blue-white ice.

  The view from the top revealed the descent to be every bit as frighteningly impossible as the first had been, only this time there was an added menace. The afternoon was getting on, and heavy banks of fog were beginning to form in the valley far below. Looking back, they saw more rolling in from the west.

  Their situation was starkly simple: Unless they could get lower, they would freeze to death. Shackleton estimated their altitude at 4,500 feet. At such a height, the temperature at night might easily drop well below zero. They had no means of obtaining shelter, and their clothes were worn and thin.

  Hurriedly Shackleton turned and started down again with the others following. This time he did his best to keep as high as possible, cutting steps in the slope and working laterally around the side of the third peak - then up again once more.

  They moved as quickly as they could, but there was very little speed left in them. Their legs were wobbly and strangely disobedient.

  Finally, well after four o'clock, they struggled to the top. The ridge was so sharp that Shackleton was able to sit astride it, one leg on either side. The light was fading fast, but peering warily down he saw that though the descent was steep, it was not so bad as the others had been. Toward the bottom it appeared to slope away toward level ground. But there was no telling for sure because the valley now was thick with fog and the light was very poor.

  Furthermore, the fog creeping up behind them was approaching very rapidly, threatening to obliterate everything, leaving them blinded and trapped atop this razorback.

  The time for hesitation was past, and Shackleton swung himself over the side. Working furiously, he began to cut steps in the face of the cliff, descending slowly, a foot at a time. A bitter chill had come into the air, and the sun was nearly down. Gradually they were getting lower, but it was maddeningly slow progress.

  After thirty minutes, the ice-hard surface of the snow grew softer, indicating that the grade was not quite so steep. Shackleton stopped short. He seemed to realize all at once the futility of what he was doing. At the rate they were going it would take hours to make the descent. Furthermore, it was probably too late to turn back.

  He hacked out a small platform with the adz, then called to the others to come down.

  There was no need to explain the situation. Speaking rapidly, Shackleton said simply that they faced a clear-cut choice: If they stayed where they were, they would freeze - in an hour, maybe two, maybe more. They had to get lower - and with all possible haste.

  So he suggested they slide.

  Worsley and Crean were stunned - especially for such an insane solution to be coming from Shackleton. But he wasn't joking ... he wasn't even smiling. He meant it - and they knew it.

  But what if they hit a rock, Crean wanted to know.

  Could they stay where they were, Shackleton replied, his voice rising.

  The slope, Worsley argued. What if it didn't level off? What if there were another precipice?

  Shackleton's patience was going. Again he demanded - could they stay where they were?

  Obviously they could not, and Worsley and Crean reluctantly were forced to admit it. Nor was there really any other way of getting down. And so the decision was made. Shackleton said they would slide as a unit, holding onto one another. They quickly sat down and untied the rope which held them together. Each of them coiled up his share to form a mat. Worsley locked his legs around Shackleton's waist and put his arms around Shackleton's neck. Crean did the same with Worsley. They looked like three tobogganers without a toboggan.

  Altogether it took a little more than a minute, and Shackleton did not permit any time for reflection. When they were ready, he kicked off. In the next instant their hearts stopped beating. They seemed to hang poised for a split second, then suddenly the wind was shrieking in their ears, and a white blur of snow tore past. Down ... down ... They screamed - not in terror necessarily, but simply because they couldn't help it. It was squeezed out of them by the rapidly mounting pressure in their ears and against their chests. Faster and faster - down ... down ... down!

  Then they shot forward onto the level, and their speed began to slacken. A moment later they came to an abrupt halt in a snowbank.

  The three men picked themselves up. They were breathless and their hearts were beating wildly. But they found themselves laughing uncontrollably. What had been a terrifying prospect possibly a hundred seconds before had turned into a breath-taking triumph.

  They looked up against the darkening sky and saw the fog curling over the edge of the r
idges, perhaps 2,000 feet above them - and they felt that special kind of pride of a person who in a foolish moment accepts an impossible dare - then pulls it off to perfection.

  OP POSITF Crossing South Georgia

  After a meal of biscuit and sledging ration they started up the snowy slope toward the east. It was tricky going in the dark, and great caution was needed to watch for crevasses. But off to the southwest a hazy glow silhouetted the mountain peaks. And after they had spent an hour in anxious travel, the glow rose above the ranges - the full moon, directly in their path.

  What a sight it was. In its light the edges of the crevasses were now easily discernible, and every ridgeline in the snow cast its shadow. They kept on, guided by the friendly moon, until after midnight, stopping at intervals to rest, for their weariness was now becoming a real burden, relieved only by the knowledge that surely they were getting close.

  At about twelve-thirty they had reached a height of perhaps 4,000 feet and the slope leveled off, then slowly it started to descend, curving slightly toward the northeast - exactly as it should toward Stromness Bay. With great expectation they turned to follow it down. The cold, however, was increasing - or perhaps they were beginning to feel it more. So at i a.m., Shackleton permitted a brief halt for food. They were up and moving again at one-thirty.

  For more than an hour they traveled downhill, then they came in sight of the water once more. There, outlined by the moonlight, was Mutton Island, sitting in the middle of Stromness Bay. As they made their way along, other familiar landmarks came into view, and they excitedly pointed them out to one another. Within an hour or two they would be down.

  But then Crean spotted a crevasse off to the right, and looking ahead they saw other crevasses in their path. They stopped - confused. They were on a glacier. Only there were no glaciers surrounding Stromness Bay.

  They knew then that their own eagerness had cruelly deceived them. The island lying just ahead wasn't Mutton Island, and the landmarks they had seen were the creations of their imagination.