“A boat party might make the voyage and be back with relief within a month, provided that the sea was clear of ice and the boat survive the great seas. […] The hazards of a boat journey across 800 miles of stormy ocean were obvious, but I calculated that at worst the venture would add nothing to the risks of the men left on the island.”
— Ernest Shackleton, South
“We were, in a world of our own, we had only ourselves to look to, and the world was as completely cut off from us as though we had come from another planet. I have experienced a good many strange things in my time, but this sensation of detachment from the living world was one of the most memorable.”
— Frank Worsley
“The icy fingers of the gale searched every cranny of our beach and pushed relentlessly through our worn garments and tattered tents. The snow, drifting from the glacier and falling from the skies, swathed us and our gear and set traps for our stumbling feet. The rising sea beat against the rocks and shingle and tossed fragments of floe ice within a few feet of our boats.
“Once during the morning the sun shone through the racing clouds and we had a glimpse of blue sky; but the promise of fair weather was not redeemed. The consoling feature of the situation was that our camp was safe. We could endure the discomforts, and I felt that all hands would be benefited by the opportunity for rest and recuperation.”
— Ernest Shackleton, South
“Skinning them 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 shelfter 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 handn’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
“The heat of our bodies soon melted the snow and refuse beneath us, and the floor of the tent became an evil-smelling yellow mud. The snow drifting from the cliff above us weighted the sides of the tent, and during the night a particularly stormy gust brought our little home down on top of us. We stayed underneath the snow-laden cloth till the morning, for it seemed a hopeless business to set about re-pitching the tent amid the storm that was raging in the darkness of the night.”
– Ernest Shackleton, South
“The spit was by no means an ideal camping ground; it was rough, bleak and inhospitable – just an acre or two of rock and shingle, with the sea foaming around it except where the snow slope, running up to a glacier, formed the landward boundary.
“We were suffering from bad salt-water boils. Our wrists, arms and legs were attacked. Apparently this infliction was due to constant soaking with sea water, the chafing of wet clothes, and exposure.
“But some of the larger rocks provided a measure of shelter from the wind, and as we clustered round the blubber stove, with the acrid smoke blowing into our faces, we were quite a cheerful company.
“After all, another stage of the homeward journey had been accomplished and we could afford to forget for an hour the problems of the future.
“We ate our evening meal while the snow drifted down from the surface of the glacier, and our chilled bodies grew warm. Then we dried a little tobacco at the stove and enjoyed our pipes before we crawled into our tents.”
– Ernest Shackleton, South
The Pricess and the Pea by Edmund Dulac
“The fairy princess who would not rest on her seven downy mattresses because a pea lay underneath the pile might not have understood the pleasure we all derived from the irregularities of the stones, which could not possibly break beneath us or drift away; the very searching lumps were sweet reminders of our safety.”
— Ernest Shackleton, South
“Wild, Worsley, and Hurley accompanied me on an inspection of our beach before getting into the tents. I almost wished then that I had postponed the examination until after sleep, but the sense of caution that the uncertainties of polar travel implant in one’s mind made me uneasy. The outlook we found to be anything but cheering.
“I decided not to share with the men the knowledge of the uncertainties of our situation until they had enjoyed the full sweetness of rest untroubled by the thought that at any minute they might be called to face peril again. The threat of the sea had been our portion during many, many, days, and a respite meant much to weary bodies and jaded minds.
“We climbed up one of the slopes and found ourselves stopped soon by overhanging cliffs. The rocks behind the camp were much weathered, and we noticed the sharp, unworn boulders that had fallen from above. Clearly there was a danger from overhead if we camped at the back of the beach.”
— Ernest Shackleton, South
Shackleton. 