On the evening of January 8, the gale was so terrific that we had to signal to the _Koonya_ to heave to. We did this with the sea on our starboard quarter, and one enormous wave smashed in part of the starboard bulwarks and did much--though happily no vital--damage. The galley was washed out and the fire extinguished, but so pluckily did the members of the cooking department work that never during this most uncomfortable time were we without a warm meal. This was really a great feat considering that the galley was only five feet square, and thirty-nine persons blessed with very hearty appetites had to be provided for. To show what a state we were in I may mention that in the wardroom I salved a small wooden case from the water, and found that it contained a patent mixture for extinguishing fires! At noon on January 11 we were in latitude 57° 38′ South, and longitude 178° 39′ West, but the weather, which had moderated for a day or two, again became as bad as ever. We had imagined that we might find difficulty in cleaning out the stables, but the herculean waves settled that difficulty in a most arbitrary and thorough manner. On the 13th we had a warmer and pleasanter day than any we had experienced since leaving Lyttelton, and the whole vessel began to look like a veritable Petticoat Lane. Pyjamas and pillows of pulp that had once been pillows of feathers, books and boots, coats and carpet-slippers were lying in a mass on the poop deck so that they might dry. A few of us ventured on baths, but in the open air and with the temperature only two degrees above freezing-point it was chilly work. We were now keeping a sharp look-out for icebergs and pack, and the meeting with the pack-ice was to terminate the _Koonya's_ tow; and that meant parting with Buckley, who had endeared himself to every one on board, and who had been of the greatest assistance in the matter of the ponies. Next morning, January 14, we sighted our first iceberg. It had all the usual characteristics of the Antarctic bergs, being practically tabular in form, and its sides being of a dead white colour. During the afternoon we passed two more icebergs with their usual tails of brash ice floating out to leeward. The sea had changed colour from a leaden blue to a greenish-grey, albatrosses were not nearly so numerous, and the temperature of the air and water had dropped to 32° Fahr. Everything pointed to our nearness to the pack, and on the next morning we saw the ice looming up through the mist to the southward. [Illustration: Pushing through heavy Floes in the Ross Sea. The dark line on the Horizon is a "Water Sky," and indicated the Existence of Open Sea] Now had come the time for the _Koonya_ to drop us, after a tow of 1510 miles--a record in towage for a vessel not built for the purpose--and before the _Koonya_ finally cast off from us, she had achieved another record by being the first steel vessel to cross the Antarctic Circle.