Shackleton.

“After lights out we generally have some sort of a romp. Generally it is singing of songs, delicate or otherwise, sometimes it is ‘dressing up’. Members appear as ballet girls, decidedly abbreviated, or as ghosts of previous polar explorers and so on, but a very favourite form of amusement is mutual impersonations. I am inclined to be a little over anxious to please Sir Ernest at times and last night McIlroy took me off cleverly as follows:

“(Dancing about in a most effuse way.) ‘Yes sir, oh yes sir, certainly sir, sardines sir, yes sir, here they are (dashes to pantry and back) and bread sir, oh yes sir, bread sir, you shall have the night watchman’s bread sir (another dash to pantry and much grovelling, effusion and so on) and may I black your boots sir?’ and so on.

“I am in disfavour just now for stopping the supply of bread for the general run of the members at night, and given biscuits instead. Still all said and done, there is no smoke without fire and perhaps the broad hint will do me good. Better to be called a toad than a toady.”

— Thomas Orde-Lees

“[The noise of the ice was] like an enormous train with squeaky axles being shunted with much bumping & clattering. Mingled with this were the sound of steamer whistles starting to blow… & underfoot moans & groans of damned souls in torment. A constant undertone as of a heavy distant surf is heard when the louder noises… cease.

“It is impressive to stand on the blocks of heavy rafting ice & feel the irresistible forces of Nature working under your very feet… The ice… tents & domes upwards, breaks rafts in huge blocks… that travel forward at a steady rate of 3 feet a minute. Occasionally a thud is heard as a block topples over. Suddenly sound & motion cease, renew for a moment, then all is still again — the current has deflected or the floe has yielded to pressure.

“The ship was quite invisible, and one had to ‘steer home’ by the stars…”

— Frank Worsley, out for a walk on the floes

“One looks quite forward to one’s night watch and always contemplates doing a far greater number of odd jobs than one actually has time to accomplish. Tonight I had intended to wash myself and my clothes, sort out a box of bolts and nuts, and write up numerous blank spaces in this diary! It has been as much as I have been able to achieve to have a bath and wash my clothes.

“One or two self-diagnosed cases of insomnia (a complaint often brought on by post-prandial naps) generally turn up quite unashamedly at the night watchman’s supper time and cheerfully share with him, or in other words deprove him of part of his much-needed sustenance, slinking off to their respective lairs as soon as their gastronomic desires have been satisfied. No wonder then that desultory depredations occasionally occur, but they are never of so serious a nature that we cannot afford to wink at them.

“The prospective night watchman has the privilege of turning in during the afternoon immediately preceding his night watch, and the day following he is at liberty to sleep all day if he so desires. Of the former privilege he generally avails himself, though the noisiness that goes on all day precludes any real slumber. Nearly all of us suffer in varying degrees from Antarctic insomnia. To sit up all night is the finest cure for insomnia there is.”

— Thomas Orde-Lees

“Marston, our affable artist, repairs all our boots, sewing new soles on them in quite a professional manner. He is wonderfully handy at certain things, once he gets started, but he is inclined to be a little lethargic and takes a bit of starting at times. He, Wild, Captain Worsley and Tom Crean live in the original upper deck ward room, just above the hold. They have divided the space up into four cubicles and so have one each, quite a luxury. They look like little horse-boxes, so are always alluded to as The Stables.

“Marston has ideas of his own, mainly artistic, and so has fixed up a sort of opium den settee about 4ft by 4 1/2ft which really occupies almost the entire available space of the cubicle. It is covered with fine reindeer skins which he as clothing officer is in charge of and really it is a delightful nest, but how he manages to curl up on it at night is a puzzle. He is by no means tall, which is lucky, and so he probably fits in diagonally and draws his knees up a bit for the rest.”

— Thomas Orde-Lees

Dog teams returning after exercise

“Had delightful run with team during the morning. The faint daylight mingling with the brilliant moonlight lent a peculiar enchantment to the frozen sea. The northern sky was aflame with the golden glow of the departing sun. The southern sky was more sombre, being delicately prismatic, with a faint blue horizon blending into a pink tint in which stood a silver moon glowing like a halo. One felt quite elated riding on the sledge and driving into the moon’s face. Winter, although hoary and blizzard-bowed, is the most beautiful and charming part of the year…”

— Frank Hurley

Green skinning an Emperor aboard the Endurance

Escallops of Penguin Breasts

Ingredients:

Penguin Breasts as required
Reconstituted onion
Some fairly thick batter
Flour
Salt and pepper to taste

Cut the breasts into thin slices and soak in milk for about 2 hours. Dry, season and flour them well on both sides. Have ready some deep frying fat. When just smoking hot dip the pieces in the batter with the onion mixed into it and fry each piece to a nice golden brown. For a sauce turn the contents of a tin of mushroom soup into a saucepan and heat but do not boil. When hot pour over the meat and serve with fried potatoes and peas.

From Gerald T. Cutland’s Fit for a fid, or, How to Keep a Fat Explorer in Prime Condition (© British Antarctic Survey)

More on Antarctic food:

Hoosh: Roast Penguin, Scurvy Day, and Other Stories of Antarctic Cuisine (At Table), by Jason C. Anthony [link]

Train Oil and Snotters: Eating Antarctic Wild Foods, by Jeff Rubin, in Gastronomica, Winter 2003 [PDF]

“A form of mid-winter madness has manifested itself, all hands being seized with the desire to have their hair removed. It caused much amusement, and luxuriant curls, bald pates and parted crowns soon became akin. We are likely to be coolheaded in the future, if not neuralgic. We resemble a cargo of convicts, and I did not let the opportunity pass of perpetuating photographically this humorous happening.”

— Frank Hurley

“We have had side-splitting fun this evening. Everyone submitted to having their hair cropped close with shears. Rickinson our chief engineer really has very handsome dark wavy hair and was not at all anxious to have it off, so in fun he told Sir Ernest that he would let him cut it if Sir Ernest would afterwards permit him to cut his.”

“This Sir Ernest agreed to, so now we are all practically bald, leader and all. Hurley, whose hair runs to black wool, was also reluctant to part with it, but finally submitted and really he looks the better for it. Later he took a flashlight group of us all.”

— Thomas Orde-Lees

“The blizzard has ceased. There are new lines of pressure along the edge of the great frozen lead to the north (astern of the ship). The ice of the frozen lead, about a foot thick only, has cracked along an almost straight line for a mile or two and the edges have ridden over each other for a distance of about 10yds, forming a long low bank of piled-up ice blocks and fragments. It is these banks that are called ‘pressure ridges’, or often simply ‘pressure’.”

— Thomas Orde-Lees