A man might imagine for a moment that he had
found a position of ease, but always discovered quickly that some
unyielding point was impinging on muscle or bone. The first night
aboard the boat was one of acute discomfort for us all, and we were
heartily glad when the dawn came and we could set about the preparation
of a hot breakfast.
This record of the voyage to South Georgia is based upon scanty notes
made day by day. The notes dealt usually with the bare facts of
distances, positions, and weather, but our memories retained the
incidents of the passing days in a period never to be forgotten. By
running north for the first two days I hoped to get warmer weather and
also to avoid lines of pack that might be extending beyond the main
body. We needed all the advantage that we could obtain from the higher
latitude for sailing on the great circle, but we had to be cautious
regarding possible ice-streams. Cramped in our narrow quarters and
continually wet by the spray, we suffered severely from cold throughout
the journey. We fought the seas and the winds and at the same time had
a daily struggle to keep ourselves alive. At times we were in dire
peril. Generally we were upheld by the knowledge that we were making
progress towards the land where we would be, but there were days and
nights when we lay hove to, drifting across the storm-whitened seas and
watching with eyes interested rather than apprehensive the uprearing
masses of water, flung to and fro by Nature in the pride of her
strength.
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