The Endurance_ Shackleton's Legendary Antarctic Expedition - Caroline Alexander [69]
On May 23, only three days after their arrival in Stromness, Shackleton, Worsley, and Crean left in the Southern Sky for Elephant Island. This was the moment for which Shackleton had lived through all the difficult days. Driving steadily against the familiar westerly gales, the Southern Sky was within 100 miles of Elephant Island when she ran into ice. Forty miles farther, she was brought to a complete stop.
“To attempt to force the unprotected steel whaler through the masses of pack-ice that now confronted us would have been suicidal,” wrote Worsley. Skirting the pack for many miles, they began to run dangerously low of coal, and were at last forced to turn back. The Southern Sky now made for the Falkland Islands in order to seek another vessel; from here Shackleton was able to cable to England.
News of Shackleton's survival created a sensation. Newspaper headlines heralded the story, and the king cabled the Falklands with a congratulatory message:
“Rejoice to hear of your safe arrival in the Falkland Islands and trust your companions on Elephant Island may soon be rescued.— George, R.I.”
Even Robert F. Scott's widow, Kathleen Scott, ever watchful of her husband's reputation, conceded, “Shackleton or no Shackleton, I think it is one of the most wonderful adventures I ever read of, magnificent.”
But for all the excitement, the British government was not able to provide for the final rescue. Britain was still at war and had no spare ships for non-military efforts, let alone any fitted for the ice. The only suitable vessel was the Discovery, Scott's old Uruguay, Argentina, and Chile for assistance as Shackleton desperately scoured the southern ports for an appropriate wooden vessel. More than anyone alive, he knew how difficult it would be to find one—the stout little Endurance had been unique. On June 10, the Uruguayan government came forward with a small survey ship, the Instituto de Pesca No 1, and crew, for no charge. After three days, she came in sight of Elephant Island, but the ice allowed her no closer. Six days after setting out, she limped back to port.
In Punta Arenas, a subscription from the British Association chartered the Emma, a forty-year-old schooner built of oak, and a multinational scratch crew. Setting out on July 12, they too came to within 100 miles of Elephant Island before ice and tempestuous weather turned them back.
“Some members of the scratch crew were played out by the cold and violent tossing,” wrote Shackleton, with the restrained irony of a veteran of the James Caird. The ferocious weather kept the Emma three weeks at sea, and it was August 3 before she reached harbor. Back in Punta Arenas, Shackleton waged another desperate search. The unthinkable was happening: Weeks of waiting were passing into months.
“The wear and tear of this period was dreadful,” wrote Worsley. “To Shackleton it was little less than maddening. Lines scored themselves on his face more deeply day by day; his thick, dark, wavy hair was becoming silver. He had not had a grey hair when we had started out to rescue our men the first time. Now, on the third journey, he was grey-haired.”
He had also begun, uncharacteristically, to drink. In a photograph taken by Hurley at Ocean Camp, Shackleton sits on the ice preoccupied, but strangely debonair. But in a photograph taken of him during this period of searching for a ship, he is utterly unrecognizable. Pinched with tension, his face is that of an old man. It was now mid-August—four months since the departure of the James Caird.
From Chile, Shackleton sent yet another cable to the Admiralty, pleading for any wooden vessel. The reply stated that the Discovery would arrive sometime around September 20; but it also cryptically