Outside of the pack the wind must have been of hurricane force.
Thousands of small dead fish were to be seen, killed probably by a cold
current and the heavy weather. They floated in the water and lay on
the ice, where they had been cast by the waves. The petrels and skua-
gulls were swooping down and picking them up like sardines off toast.
We made our way through the lanes till at noon we were suddenly spewed
out of the pack into the open ocean. Dark blue and sapphire green ran
the seas. Our sails were soon up, and with a fair wind we moved over
the waves like three Viking ships on the quest of a lost Atlantis.
With the sheet well out and the sun shining bright above, we enjoyed
for a few hours a sense of the freedom and magic of the sea,
compensating us for pain and trouble in the days that had passed. At
last we were free from the ice, in water that our boats could navigate.
Thoughts of home, stifled by the deadening weight of anxious days and
nights, came to birth once more, and the difficulties that had still to
be overcome dwindled in fancy almost to nothing.
During the afternoon we had to take a second reef in the sails, for
the wind freshened and the deeply laden boats were shipping much water
and steering badly in the rising sea. I had laid the course for
Elephant Island and we were making good progress.
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