“Shackleton, with his usual love of leg-pulling, said with a twinkle in his eye, ‘We’ll hide this stuff, go in and tell ’em you saved my life from a sea-elephant that tore your blouse off and badly wounded you—to account for the blood.’ …Of course our tale was not believed.”
— Frank Worsley
“The long bay was a magnificent sight, even to eyes which had dwelt long enough on grandeur and were hungry for the familiar things of every-day life. Its green-blue waters were being beaten to fury by the gale. The mountains peered through the mists, and between them huge glaciers poured down the great ice-slopes which lay behind.”
— Ernest Shackleton, South
“We were still 150 miles away from Stromness whaling station by sea. The alternative was to attempt the crossing of the island. If we could not get over, then we must try to secure enough food and fuel to keep us alive through the winter, but this possibility was scarcely thinkable… Over on Elephant Island twenty-two men were waiting for the relief that we alone could secure for them. Their plight was worse than ours. We must push on somehow.”
– Ernest Shackelton, South
“The first time I felt like a murderer [but] after that I just thought what a glorious feed the first had been.
“The Boss and I discussed making enough money to start another expedition by taking…baby albatross and selling them to the epicures… of Europe and New York at £50 a piece, quite ignoring the fact that there is a regulation, forbidding the killing of these chicks… We were then a law unto ourselves, and looked it.”
– Frank Worsley
“Our cave was a recess in the cliff on the left-hand end of the beach.
“Water had tricked down the face of the cliff and formed long icicles, which hung down in front of the cave to the length of about fifteen feet. These icicles provided shelter, and when we had spread our sails below them, with the assistance of oars, we had quarters that, in the circumstances, had to be regarded as reasonably comfortable. The camp at least was dry.”
– Ernest Shackleton, South
“King Haakon Bay is an eight-mile sound penetrating the coast of South Georgia in an easterly direction. We had noticed that the northern and southern sides of the sound were formed by steep mountain ranges, their flanks furrowed by mighty glaciers, the outlets of the great ice sheet of the interior. It was obvious that these glaciers and the precipitous slopes of the mountains barred our way inland from the cove. We must sail to the head of the sound.
“Swirling clouds and mist wreaths had obscured our view of the sound when we were entering, but glimpses of snow slopes had given us hope that an overland journey could be begun from that point. A few patches of very rough, tussocky land, dotted with little tarns, lay between the glaciers along the foot of the mountains, which were heavily scarred with scree slopes. Several magnificent peaks and crags gazed out across their snowy domains to the sparkling waters of the sound.”
– Ernest Shackleton, South
“We cut off the topsides and took out all the moveable gear. Then we waited for Byron’s “great ninth wave,” and when it lifted the James Caird in we held her and, by dint of great exertion, worked her round broadside to the sea. Inch by inch we dragged her up until we reached the fringe of the tussock grass and knew that the boat was above the high-water mark.
“The completion of this job removed our immediate anxieties, and we were free to examine our surroundings and plan the next move.”
– Ernest Shackleton, South
“Soon we had angry reefs on either side. Great glaciers came down to the sea and offered no landing place. The sea spouted on the reefs and thundered against the shore. About noon we sighted a line of jagged reef, like blackened teeth, that seemed to bar the entrance to the bay. Inside, comparatively smooth water stretched eight or nine miles to the head of the bay. A gap in the reef appeared, and we made for it. But the fates had another rebuff for us. The wind shifted and blew from the east right out of the bay. We could see the way through the reef, but we could not approach it directly. That afternoon we bore up, tacking five times in the strong wind. The last tack enabled us to get through, and at least we were in the wide mouth of the bay. Dusk was approaching.”
— Ernest Shackleton, South
“About 8am the wind backed to the northwest and threatened another blow. We had sighted in the meantime a big indentation which I thought must be King Haakon Bay, and I decided that we must land there. We set the bows of the boat towards the bay and ran before the freshening gale.”
— Ernest Shackleton, South
Shackleton. 