"
On April 25, the day after I left for South Georgia, the island was
beset by heavy pack-ice, with snow and a wet mist. Next day was
calmer, but on the 27th, to quote one of the diaries, they experienced
"the most wretched weather conceivable. Raining all night and day, and
blowing hard. Wet to the skin." The following day brought heavy fog
and sleet, and a continuance of the blizzard. April ended with a
terrific windstorm which nearly destroyed the hut. The one remaining
tent had to be dismantled, the pole taken down, and the inhabitants had
to lie flat all night under the icy canvas. This lasted well into May,
and a typical May day is described as follows: "A day of terrific
winds, threatening to dislodge our shelter. The wind is a succession
of hurricane gusts that sweep down the glacier immediately south-south-
west of us. Each gust heralds its approach by a low rumbling which
increases to a thunderous roar. Snow, stones, and gravel are flying
about, and any gear left unweighted by very heavy stones is carried
away to sea."
Heavy bales of sennegrass, and boxes of cooking-gear, were lifted
bodily in the air and carried away out of sight. Once the wind carried
off the floor-cloth of a tent which six men were holding on to and
shaking the snow off. These gusts often came with alarming suddenness;
and without any warning.
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