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By Root 896 0

difficulties of this journey required no elaboration to the men who had just arrived on Elephant Island. The island of South Georgia was 800 miles away—more than ten times the distance they had just travelled. To reach it, a twenty-two-and-a-half-foot long open boat would have to cross the most formidable ocean on the planet, in the winter. They could expect winds up to 80 miles an hour, and heaving waves—the notorious Cape Horn Rollers—measur-ing from trough to crest as much as sixty feet in height; if unlucky, they would encounter worse. They would be navigating towards a small island, with no points of land in between, using a sextant and chronometer—under brooding skies that might not permit a single navigational sighting. The task was not merely formidable; it was, as every sailing man of the company knew, impossible.

“There is a party of 6 going to Georgia in the Caird,“ wrote McNish. “The party includes

Sir Ernest

Skipper

Creen

Macnish

McCarthy

Vincent.”

The pride with which this concise entry is made is palpable. After he announced his plans, Shackleton had called McNish over to examine the Caird and asked him whether she could be made more seaworthy.

“He first enquired if he was to go with me,” Shackleton reported, “and seemed quite pleased when I said ‘Yes.' “ There is no evidence that any of the men chosen faced the prospect of the new ordeal with anything but matter-of-fact determination and satisfaction. Crean, indeed, had begged to be included, although Wild had wanted him to remain with him. Shackleton, it is true—as Lees took pains to inform him—could possibly have waited out the winter and then attempted to cross back the way they had just come to the whaling waters near Deception Island; but this option meant many long, fickle months of delay. Besides, the first boat journey had set him in motion, put him on a course from which there was now, it seemed, no turning back.

On April 20, Shackleton announced that he would attempt to sail the twenty-two-and-a-half-foot-long James Caird to South Georgia, 800 miles away. Immediately, McNish set to work adapting the boat for its momentous journey. On April 21, McNish wrote in his diary, “All hands are busy skining & storing penguins. Some repairing the Cairds gear 2 sewing canvas for the deck. Myself Marsten & McLeod are busy getting the Caird ready.… There are 5 on the sick list some heart trouble some frost bites & 1 dilly.” The negative for this photograph has been retouched, but apparently only to highlight faded details, rather than to change them.

“ The Skipper” Lieut. F.A. Worsley RNR

Shackleton chose the crew for the momentous journey very carefully. Worsley had already distinguished himself as a navigator by landing the three boats safely on Elephant Island. He had served for several years in the Pacific for the New Zealand Government Steamer Service, where he had become proficient in sailing small boats and navigating for landfalls on small islands.

Tom Crean

Wild wanted him to stay with him on Elephant Island; Shackleton wanted him in the Caird. Everyone knew that this tough seaman, who had won the Albert Medal for bravery on Scott's last expedition, would be an asset to any cause he served. Crean was perhaps as close as one can come to being indestructible.

“Shackleton sitting still and doing nothing wasn't Shackleton at all,” wrote Macklin. “We'd had all that at Patience Camp.” Moreover, with his eye ever on the sailors, the Boss may have calculated that another long, demoralizing waiting game was not feasible; psychologically, it was better to offer his men the hope of even the longest of long shots.

The crew of the James Caird was chosen with care. Worsley had proved himself a gifted navigator. McNish would be useful as both shipwright and sailor—his rebellion on the ice notwithstanding, he was, with Crean, Vincent, and McCarthy (also Marston and Hurley), one of the handful of men whose performance during the boat journey had been singled out by Shackleton for commendation. Furthermore, Shackleton was once again gathering