“We weighed anchor and drew out of Antwerp on August 16th. Many people gathered to see the starting, and all Antwerp seemed on foot to wish us _bon voyage_. Representatives from many French societies were there to congratulate us on our good fortune with the organisation, and to wish the expedition unbounded success. The yachts of the Antwerp Yacht Club, under whose flag the _Belgica_ sailed, showed their interest by salutations and a rich bedecking of flags. Amid the storm of cheers from the people on the quays, the tooting of whistles from neighbouring crafts, and the thundering of cannons from places which we knew not, we slowly withdrew. After a few hours Antwerp, with its friendly hilarity and its bustling activity, sank from view. Then, after a breath of ease and a moment of reflection, we felt that the hardest part of our work had been accomplished. At last the hard-earned project was afloat, and, as if to force the pride of our work upon us, the Dutch cruiser _Kartenaar_ followed us out to sea in company for twenty-four hours, an indication of neighbourly affection which we keenly appreciated. This we afterwards learned was by order of the Dutch Queen Wilhelmina. “Head winds, against which no progress could be made, and a small accident to the engine, made it necessary to put into Ostend. Here his Majesty, King Leopold, visited us, offering many congratulations on the success of the difficult task of organising the first Belgian polar expedition. His Majesty took a sharp interest in the _Belgica_, and closely examined her many peculiar fixtures, finally offering his hand and many words of warm encouragement befitting the occasion. “During the few hot days of August, which were spent at Ostend, a teeming mass of fellow-countrymen and women crowded the decks of the _Belgica_. It seemed, with the vessel loaded so heavily, with every cubic foot of space occupied, and even the bunks and state-rooms piled full of useful articles, so that there was really no room for curiosity seekers, as if all Ostend, and a good part of the outside world, had been aboard. There came a time, however, when the ship must leave, when we must finally sever ourselves from the friendly atmosphere of our beloved native land, and leave our friends behind for the second and last time until our return.” It was on the eve of the final departure from home, by the way, that my own name was first suggested as a future companion. There had been considerable trouble and some disappointment in connection with the surgeons appointed. The first candidate was put aside, after acceptance, for personal reasons, and the second declined to go at the last moment for family reasons. Without a knowledge of this difficulty I cabled, volunteering my services, though at this time I had not previously written a line, nor was I acquainted with a single individual of the expedition, or its representatives. In response to my cable I received this: