What if we miss South Georgia?

void_sgeorgia

“Sir E. discussed with me what we would do if thro’ lack of… observations of a heavy series of Sly gales blowing us off course, we missed S. Georgia. The prospect was not attractive. Our water, we knew, would be finished… Our food would have lasted a fortnight, but that didn’t alter the problem, if we had no water so we dropped the discussion as it was futile.”

— Frank Worsley

“They both knew that except for one or two tiny islands, the Atlantic Ocean eastward beyond South Georgia is a void all the way to South Africa, nearly 3,000 miles away. If, through a miscalculation or because of a southerly gale, they missed the island, there would be no second chance.”

— Alfred Lansing, Endurance

[image from wikipedia]

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Suffering

“Vincent had for the past week ceased to be an active member of the crew, and I could not easily account for his collapse. Physically he was one of the strongest men in the boat. He was a young man, he had served on North Sea trawlers, and he should have been able to bear hardships better than McCarthy, who, not so strong, was always happy.

“The carpenter was suffering particularly, but he showed grit and spirit.”

— Ernest Shackleton, South

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Flew & fussed around

“Then there was a small bird, unknown to me, that appeared always to be in a fussy, bustling state, quite out of keeping with the surroundings. It irritated me. It had practically no tail, and it flitted about vaguely as though in search of the lost member. I used to find myself wishing it would find its tail and have done with the silly fluttering.”

— Ernest Shackleton, South

“A small bobtailed bird flew & fussed around us with terrific energy. The only time I heard Sir Ernest swear on this passage was when this little fellow buzzed around. It faintly annoyed us all, but for some reason it irritated him, tho he may have sworn at it to amuse us, thinking ‘anything for a laugh or to buck things up.'”

— Frank Worsley

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Nothing existed but water

“Shackleton was nearly torn from his seat by the deluge of water that swept over him…

“For an instant, nothing existed but water. They couldn’t even tell whether she was upright. But then the instant was over; the wave had rolled on, and the Caird, though stunned and half dead under a load of water that rose nearly to the seats, was miraculously still afloat. Crean and McNeish seized the first implements that came to hand and began to bail furiously…

“The ballast had shifted and the glass on the compass was broken—but they apparently had won.”

— Alfred Lansing, Endurance

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Rogue wave

“At midnight I was at the tiller and suddenly noticed a line of clear sky between the south and southwest. I called to the other men that the sky was clearing, and then a moment later I realized that what I had seen was not a rift in the clouds but the white crest of an enormous wave.

“During twenty-six years’ experience of the ocean in all its moods I had not encountered a wave so gigantic. It was a mighty upheaval of the ocean, a thing quite apart from the big white-capped seas that had been our tireless enemies for many days.

“I shouted, “For God’s sake, hold on! It’s got us!”

“Then came a moment of suspense that seemed drawn out into hours. White surged the foam of the breaking sea around us. We felt our boat lifted and flung forward like a cork in breaking surf.

“We were in a seething chaos of tortured water; but somehow the boat lived through it, half full of water, sagging to the dead weight and shuddering under the blow. We baled with the energy of men fighting for life, flinging the water over the sides with every receptacle that came to our hands, and after ten minutes of uncertainty we felt the boat renew her life beneath us…

“She floated again and ceased to lurch drunkenly as though dazed by the attack of the sea.”

— Ernest Shackleton, South

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The swearing rule

“As a rule when a sea wets a sailor through he swears at it comprehensively, and impartially curses everything in sight beginning with the ship & ‘the old man’—if he’s not within hearing, but on this trip we said nothing when a sea hit us in the face. It was grin & bear it, for it was Sir Ernest’s theory that by keeping our tempers… we each helped to keep one another up. We all lived up to this to the best of our ability, but McCarthy was a marvel.”

— Frank Worsley

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Jokes of the primitive kind

“Even when cracked lips and swollen mouths checked the outward and visible signs of amusement we could see a joke of the primitive kind. Man’s sense of humour is most easily stirred by the petty misfortunes of his neighbors, and I shall never forget Worsley’s efforts on one occasion to place the hot aluminum stand on top of the Primus stove after it had fallen off in an extra heavy roll. With his frost-bitten fingers he picked it up, dropped it, picked it up again, and toyed with it gingerly as though it were some fragile article of lady’s wear. We laughed, or rather gurgled with laughter.”

— Ernest Shackleton, South

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Rime of the Ancient Mariner, pt 4

Rime of the Ancient Mariner
by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

[]

Four

‘I fear thee, ancient Mariner!
I fear thy skinny hand!
And thou art long, and lank, and brown,
As is the ribbed sea-sand.

I fear thee and thy glittering eye,
And thy skinny hand, so brown.’–
Fear not, fear not, thou Wedding-Guest!
This body dropt not down.

Alone, alone, all, all alone,
Alone on a wide wide sea!
And never a saint took pity on
My soul in agony.

The many men, so beautiful!
And they all dead did lie:
And a thousand thousand slimy things
Lived on; and so did I.

I looked upon the rotting sea,
And drew my eyes away
I looked upon the rotting deck,
And there the dead men lay

I looked to Heaven, and tried to pray;
But or ever a prayer had gusht,
A wicked whisper came, and made
My heart as dry as dust.

I closed my lids, and kept them close,
And the balls like pulses beat;
For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky
Lay like a load on my weary eye,
And the dead were at my feet.

The cold sweat melted from their limbs,
Nor rot nor reek did they:
The look with which they looked on me
Had never passed away.

An orphan’s curse would drag to hell
A spirit from on high;
But oh! more horrible than that
Is the curse in a dead man’s eye!
Seven days, seven nights saw that curse,
And yet I could not die.

The moving Moon went up the sky,
And no where did abide:
Softly she was going up,
And a star or two beside–

Her beams bemocked the sultry main,
Like April hoar-frost spread;
But where the ship’s huge shadow lay,
The charm’ed water burnt alway
A still and awful red.

Beyond the shadow of the ship,
I watched the water-snakes:
They moved in tracks of shining white
And when they reared, the elfish light
Fell off in hoary flakes.

Within the shadow of the ship
I watched their rich attire:
Blue, glossy green, and velvet black,
Then coiled and swam; and every track
Was a flash of golden fire.

O happy living things! no tongue
Their beauty might declare:
A spring of love gushed from my heart,
And I blessed them unaware:
Sure my kind saint took pity on me,
And I blessed them unaware.

The self-same moment I could pray;
And from my neck so free
The Albatross fell off, and sank
Like lead into the sea.

[]

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Some hint of happier days

“I had not realized until the sunlight came how small our boat really was.

“There was some influence in the light and warmth, some hint of happier days, that made us revive memories of other voyages, when we had stout decks beneath our feet, unlimited food at our command and pleasant cabins for our use. Now we clung to a battered little boat… So low in the water were we that each succeeding swell cut off our view of the sky-line. We were a tiny speck in the vast vista of the sea—the ocean that is…pitiless always to weakness. For a moment the consciousness of the forces arrayed against us would be overwhelming. Then hope and confidence would rise again as our boat rose to a wave and tossed aside the crest in a sparkling shower like the play of prismatic colours at the foot of a waterfall.”

— Ernest Shackleton, South

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We did not shoot the albatross

Sooty Albatross by Mike Danzenbaker

Sooty Albatross by Mike Danzenbaker

“My double-barreled shotgun and some cartridges had been stowed aboard the boat as an emergency precaution against a shortage of food, but we were not disposed to destroy our little neighbors, the Cape pigeons, even for the sake of fresh meat. We might have shot an albatross, but the wandering king of the ocean aroused in us something of the feeling that inspired, too late, the Ancient Mariner. So the gun remained among the stores and sleeping bags in the narrow quarters beneath our leaking deck, and the birds followed us unmolested.”

— Ernest Shackleton, South

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