“Skinning [penguins] with our already partially frostbitten hands was painful work, for to bare the hand for a very few minutes in such a blizzard means almost certain frost-bite. We sought such shelter as we could find behind rocks and so on, but it was only the warmth of the dead penguins that saved our hands.
“The blizzard fairly raged. No-one got up who hadn’t got to. I had to as I was cook of the day for my tent. My tent-mates merely lay under their covering of snow, buttoned down tight in their sleeping bags, and I ministered to their gastronomic needs as best I could.
“I took our hoosh to the tent in an old saucepan without a handle, and duly doled it out to my now-submerged comrades. When I got there the hoosh was cold—usual complaints! How ungrateful some people can be when one is doing one’s best for them can best be found out on a jaunt such as ours.
“The strength of the wind may be judged by the fact that the Dudley Docker, on the beach, was blown completely round, and she is a heavy boat.”
— Thomas Orde-Lees