Between Thursday night and Friday morning the weather improved--the wind had lowered, but there still remained a heavy swell on the water. If the “Hobby” got a little off the right course now and again, she was steered round with a tremendous pull which brought me flying on deck to see how things were going. Thus there was little sleep the whole night, certainly never more than an hour at a time. On Thursday morning we passed Björnöen to the westward without seeing the island, as there was a thick fog. Here we passed the first ice, which was typical pancake-ice. During the day a southeasterly wind came up and increased later to a stiff breeze. So long as the sea was moderately calm, we did not mind, as the wind was blowing direct aft, and we were making good speed. By midday the sea had become so rough and the wind so strong that we were faced by the same dilemma which has faced many a seaman before us. How long could we carry on without having to “heave to”? We altered our course a little in order to get as quickly into the ice as possible by way of Sydkap. We knew that if we could only get along in that direction we would be sure to find smooth water, so we continued on that course and made fair progress. If the sea should get too rough, so that we could no longer keep going, it might be too late to “heave to,” for during that maneuver we might steer into the wind, getting the heavy seas abeam, and there was every possibility of our losing our deck cargo. If, therefore, we were going to steer into the wind, it would be advisable to do it in good time. Occasionally “Hobby” rocked heavily when a heavy sea caught it astern. We rolled violently, not nicely and comfortably, but with heavy violent heaves so that the lashings cut into the planks which lay between them and the corners of the cases. During one of these heaves the man at the wheel was thrown across the wheel, against the rail, at the lee side of the bridge. He hurt himself pretty badly, and was unable to work for some time. The mate’s comforting remark was that conditions might be much worse when we got nearer to the banks. I was more afraid than I have ever been before in my life, and I hope sincerely that I shall never get into a similar position again. It was not my life I feared losing, for there was meantime no danger of this. It was the deck cargo’s fate about which I was concerned, namely, the flying machines. If the cases had been filled with gold they would have been heartily welcome to go overboard, but we must at all costs keep the flying-machines safe and sound. The expedition must not be put off this year. I felt thankful again in my heart that the ships had got separated, for “Fram” could have given us no help. Those on board that vessel could only have stood as helpless spectators.