A southerly
gale had sent it northward temporarily, and the 'Yelcho' had her chance
to slip through. We approached the island in a thick fog. I did not
dare to wait for this to clear, and at 10 a.m. on August 30 we passed
some stranded bergs. Then we saw the sea breaking on a reef, and I
knew that we were just outside the island. It was an anxious moment,
for we had still to locate the camp and the pack could not be trusted
to allow time for a prolonged search in thick weather; but presently
the fog lifted and revealed the cliffs and glaciers of Elephant Island.
I proceeded to the east, and at 11.40 a.m. Worsley's keen eyes detected
the camp, almost invisible under its covering of snow. The men ashore
saw us at the same time, and we saw tiny black figures hurry to the
beach and wave signals to us. We were about a mile and a half away
from the camp. I turned the 'Yelcho' in, and within half an hour
reached the beach with Crean and some of the Chilian sailors. I saw a
little figure on a surf-beaten rock and recognized Wild. As I came
nearer I called out, "Are you all well?" and he answered, "We are all
well, boss," and then I heard three cheers. As I drew close to the
rock I flung packets of cigarettes ashore; they fell on them like
hungry tigers, for well I knew that for months tobacco was dreamed of
and talked of.
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