Among memories of kindness received in many lands sundered
by the seas, the recollection of the hospitality and help given to me
in South Georgia ranks high. There is a brotherhood of the sea. The
men who go down to the sea in ships, serving and suffering, fighting
their endless battle against the caprice of wind and ocean, bring into
their own horizons the perils and troubles of their brother sailormen.
The 'Southern Sky' was ready on Tuesday morning, and at nine o'clock
we steamed out of the bay, while the whistles of the whaling-station
sounded a friendly farewell. We had forgathered aboard Captain Thom's
ship on the Monday night with several whaling captains who were
bringing up their sons to their own profession. They were "old
stagers" with faces lined and seamed by the storms of half a century,
and they were even more interested in the story of our voyage from
Elephant Island than the younger generation was. They congratulated us
on having accomplished a remarkable boat journey. I do not wish to
belittle our success with the pride that apes humility. Under
Providence we had overcome great difficulties and dangers, and it was
pleasant to tell the tale to men who knew those sullen and treacherous
southern seas.
McCarthy, McNeish, and Vincent had been landed on the Monday
afternoon.
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