All our gear was thoroughly wet again. Our
cooking-stove had been floating about in the bottom of the boat, and
portions of our last hoosh seemed to have permeated everything. Not
until 3 a.m., when we were all chilled almost to the limit of
endurance, did we manage to get the stove alight and make ourselves hot
drinks. The carpenter was suffering particularly, but he showed grit
and spirit. Vincent had for the past week ceased to be an active
member of the crew, and I could not easily account for his collapse.
Physically he was one of the strongest men in the boat. He was a young
man, he had served on North Sea trawlers, and he should have been able
to bear hardships better than McCarthy, who, not so strong, was always
happy.
The weather was better on the following day (May 6), and we got a
glimpse of the sun. Worsley's observation showed that we were not more
than a hundred miles from the north-west corner of South Georgia. Two
more days with a favourable wind and we would sight the promised land.
I hoped that there would be no delay, for our supply of water was
running very low. The hot drink at night was essential, but I decided
that the daily allowance of water must be cut down to half a pint per
man. The lumps of ice we had taken aboard had gone long ago. We were
dependent upon the water we had brought from Elephant Island, and our
thirst was increased by the fact that we were now using the brackish
water in the breaker that had been slightly stove in in the surf when
the boat was being loaded.
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