Huge bergs were apparently
resting on nothing, with a distinct gap between their bases and the
horizon; others were curiously distorted into all sorts of weird and
fantastic shapes, appearing to be many times their proper height. Added
to this, the pure glistening white of the snow and ice made a picture
which it is impossible adequately to describe.
Later on, the freshening south-westerly wind brought mild, overcast
weather, probably due to the opening up of the pack in that direction.
I had already made arrangements for a quick move in case of a sudden
break-up of the ice. Emergency orders were issued; each man had his
post allotted and his duty detailed; and the whole was so organized
that in less than five minutes from the sounding of the alarm on my
whistle, tents were struck, gear and provisions packed, and the whole
party was ready to move off. I now took a final survey of the men to
note their condition, both mental and physical. For our time at Ocean
Camp had not been one of unalloyed bliss. The loss of the ship meant
more to us than we could ever put into words. After we had settled at
Ocean Camp she still remained nipped by the ice, only her stern showing
and her bows overridden and buried by the relentless pack. The tangled
mass of ropes, rigging, and spars made the scene even more desolate and
depressing.
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