The Endurance_ Shackleton's Legendary Antarctic Expedition - Caroline Alexander [76]
The weather continued to fluctuate erratically, with more fine brilliant days followed by a northeast blizzard that dumped heavy snow, forming drifts up to four feet high around the hut. On August 19, the pack was so dense that no water at all was visible from the lookout bluff. The expectant atmosphere with which the month had opened now gave way to a mood of increasing anxiety; August had always been the very latest month speculated for a possible rescue.
“All are becoming anxious for the safety of the Caird as allowing a fair margin of time for contingencies, [a ship] should have made her appearance by now,” wrote Hurley. “The weather is wretched. A stagnant calm of air & ocean alike, the latter obscured by heavy pack & a dense wet mist hangs like a pall over land & sea. The silence is extremely oppressive.”
Now for the first time the possibility of Shackleton's not returning was openly discussed; more ominously, Wild had quietly issued an order that all cordwood and nails were to be hoarded—in the event that a boat journey had to be made to Deception Island.
Muggy, wet weather plagued them on the 21st, melting eight inches of new snow which seeped under the boats. Though the men had known that Blackborow's foot was not healing properly, it now became generally known that the swelling and inflammation indicated osteomyelitis, or infection of the bone.
The weather continued to be warm, and on the 24th, Marston was discovered sunbathing. On the 25th it turned dull and damp, and on the 26th it began to rain again. For all these days, not a breath of wind seemed to stir the ice or water. On the 27th, Wild, anticipating a thaw, set the men digging snow drift away from the hut. The work continued on the 28th, and although it was arduous, most enjoyed the unaccustomed exercise.
August 29 was clear, with a strong wind. “[P]reparations are being pushed along for sending one of our two boats,” wrote Lees. “Wild has it all nicely cut & dried, & has revealed his plans to the favoured few. He and four other members are to go in the Dudley Docker, and will make their way carefully along under the lee of the land from island to island of the South Shetlands … until they reach Deception Island about 250 miles away to our S.W.” According to this plan, the Docker would set out about October 5, in order to catch the whalers who plied the waters around Deception Island.
Simple enough in theory, the plan represented a course of action no one wished to take. The mere thought of another boat journey was daunting enough in the best of circumstances. As it was, the most valuable equipment had left with the Caird, and there now remained only a jib, old tent cloths in lieu of a mainsail, and five oars; even the mast of the Dudley Docker had been used to strengthen the keel of the Caird. Above all, the departure of the Dudley Docker from Elephant Island would be an acknowledgment that somewhere in the broad southern ocean the Caird and all hands had been lost.
August 30 dawned clear and cold. All hands worked at removing snow drift, but stopped at 11 a.m. to take advantage of the low tide and calm sea to catch limpets for the evening meal. At 12:45, most of the men turned in for “hoosh oh,” a lunch of boiled seal's backbone, while Marston and Hurley remained outside, shelling limpets.
Wild was just serving the meal when the sound of Marston's running steps was heard outside—undoubtedly he was late for lunch. Moments later, he stuck his head into the hut, panting.
“Wild, there's a ship,” he said, excitedly. “Shall we light a fire?”
“Before there was time for a reply there was a rush of members tumbling over one another,” Lees reported, “all mixed up with mugs of seal hoosh