The Home of the Blizzard: Being the Story of the Australasian Antarctic Expedition, 1911-1914Mawson, Douglas, Sir
History
The Home of the Blizzard: Being the Story of the Australasian Antarctic Expedition, 1911-1914
Mawson, Douglas, Sir
Antarctica -- Discovery and exploration; Australasian Antarctic Expedition (1911-1914)
Webb commenced a declination "quick-run," consisting of half-hourly
observations of the direction in which the compass was pointing. In
ordinary latitudes, during the day, the compass needle moves over a
few minutes of arc, but here, being so close to the Magnetic Pole, its
movement is greatly magnified, the range being about 5 degrees on
this occasion. Webb carried on readings till midnight, and at 4 A.M.,
December 9, I turned out, being relieved at 8 A.M. by Hurley, who
carried on until the twenty-four hours were completed. This observation
should be especially valuable when it is compared with continuous
magnetic records obtained at the same time at Winter Quarters and by the
Scott expedition at McMurdo Sound.
It was not till 1.30 P.M. on December 10 that the sixty-mile wind had
subsided sufficiently for us to get away. Every yard of our quota of
seven miles was hard going. A fine example of a typical old sastruga was
passed on the way. In order to secure a photograph of it, Hurley had
to waste eighteen films before he could persuade one to pull into place
correctly. The film-packs had been carefully kept in an airtight tin,
but the cold was too much for them. The tags which should pull each film
round from the back to the front of the pack usually tore away with a
small piece of film. In fact, out of one hundred and twenty films only
forty-five exposures were made.
On the 11th a good deal of "piecrust" cut down the day's march to eight
and a half miles. Sledge runners are usually supported by this surface,
but one's feet break through in a most annoying and tiring manner. The
drift eased off for a few hours and we managed to dry some of our gear.
At the Sarcophagus, things which had all been wet enough before became
saturated with drift which turned to ice. Felt mitts are perhaps the
worst in this respect, and it is no exaggeration to say that you could
easily brain a man with one after it had been worn in drift for a couple
of days.
That night I decided that one more day must see us at our depot.
Allowing three days' grace for contingencies, there were thirty-one days
for us to attain our farthest southerly point and back to the Hut.
On the 12th we planned to reach a spot for the depot, two hundred
miles out, and by 11.30 P.M. came on a fine site at one hundred and
ninety-nine and three-quarter miles; altitude four thousand eight
hundred and fifty feet, latitude 69 degrees 83.1' south; longitude
140 degrees 20' east. Everything possible was left behind, the
sledge-decking being even cut away, until only three light bamboo slats
remained. A pile, including ten days' food and one gallon of kerosene,
was placed on a small mound to prevent it being drifted over. A few
yards distant rose a solid nine-foot cairn surmounted by a black
canvas-and-wire flag, six feet higher, well stayed with steel wire.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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