The beards even of the younger men might have
been those of patriarchs, for the frost and the salt spray had made
them white. I called the 'Dudley Docker' alongside and found the
condition of the people there was no better than in the 'James Caird'.
Obviously we must make land quickly, and I decided to run for Elephant
Island. The wind had shifted fair for that rocky isle, then about one
hundred miles away, and the pack that separated us from Hope Bay had
closed up during the night from the south. At 6 p.m. we made a
distribution of stores among the three boats, in view of the
possibility of their being separated. The preparation of a hot
breakfast was out of the question. The breeze was strong and the sea
was running high in the loose pack around us. We had a cold meal, and
I gave orders that all hands might eat as much as they pleased, this
concession being due partly to a realization that we would have to
jettison some of our stores when we reached open sea in order to
lighten the boats. I hoped, moreover, that a full meal of cold rations
would compensate to some extent for the lack of warm food and shelter.
Unfortunately, some of the men were unable to take advantage of the
extra food owing to seasickness. Poor fellows, it was bad enough to be
huddled in the deeply laden, spray-swept boats, frost-bitten and half-
frozen, without having the pangs of seasickness added to the list of
their woes.
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