A set of whisky coasters to celebrate the project launch of @EShackleton, by Sherri Wasserman (@tinkerkid). The coasters display fragments of xeroxed maps showing the journey of The Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition. At the kick-off events the project was launched with sips of reenactment whisky — yes, what else? — Shackleton’s under-hut whisky from the Nimrod Expedition (1907-9), re-created by MacKinlay’s Shackleton Whisky (@Shack_Whisky).
First photo above by Sherri Wasserman.
“The distance to the nearest barrier west of us is about 180 miles, but a party going there would still be about 360 miles from Paulet Island and there would be no means of sustaining life on the barrier. We could not take from here food enough for the whole journey, the weight would be too great.”
— Ernest Shackleton, South
“The distance from the point where she became beset to the place where she now rests mortally hurt in the grip of the floes is 573 miles, but the total drift through all observed positions has been 1186 miles, and probably we actually covered more than 1500 miles.”
— Ernest Shackleton, South
“Well Old Lady (one of my many nicknames) we’ve got it in the neck all right this time, haven’t we?” “Well no, I don’t think so,” I ventured, “You wouldn’t have had anything to write a book about, if it hadn’t been for this.” “By Jove, I’m not so sure you aren’t right,” he remarked [at] which we both had a good laugh.”
— conversation with Shackleton, as reported by Orde-Lees
“The end of the Endurance has come. But though we have been compelled to abandon the ship, which is crushed beyond all hope of ever being righted, we are alive and well, and we have stores and equipment for the task that lies before us. The task is to reach land with all the members of the Expedition.”
— Ernest Shackleton
“The end came at last about 5pm. The pressure started again irresistibly. She was doomed: no ship built by human hands could have withstood the strain. I ordered all hands out on the floe.
It is hard to write what I feel.”
— Ernest Shackleton, South
These shots were taken previous to the current pressure wave.
The pack tipped the ship to almost 30 degrees; but we righted when the floe cracked. We did not, however, break free.
“A strange occurrence was the sudden appearance of 8 Emperors…at the instant the heavy pressure came upon the ship. They walked a little way towards the ship then halted & after a few ordinary…cries proceeded to sing what sounded like a dirge for the ship.”
— Frank Worsley, quoted in South
Shackleton. 