Of Rogue Waves and Leadership XI – by Jodi Guerra

“’There is a psychological aspect to the question also…It will be much better for the men in general to feel that even though progress is slow they are on their way to land than it will be simply to sit down and wait for the tardy north-westerly drift to take usout of this cruel waste of ice. We will make an attempt to move.” (Morrell, 147)

And so they started the same hauling process again. This time the goal was to get to Paulet Island. This time they would march at night when the surface wasn’t so slushy. There were the same results:a few miles for a few days of effort. At their rate, it would take over 300 days to reach the island. Thislast exercise proved the point that sometimes you just have to wait. Isn’t that so hard to do sometimes? After he decided to end the march, Shackleton wrote,“Put footstep of courage into stirrup of patience.”How true.

There was one very unusual incident: a mutiny-Of course! McNeish, frustrated by the “tearing up”of the boats, bitter about his cat, refused to go on — citing the fact that Shackleton no longer had any authority over him. This scene is really dramatized well in the recent A&E movie Shackleton. So now they camped at Patience Camp. There really was nothing to do but wait until most of the ice had melted and they had drifted far enough north to launch the boats. So they were mostly wet and uncomfortable. Walking anywhere would get you wet. They had to sleep in damp, wet sleeping bags. Food was also starting to be a concern. How much longer could they last? Around the beginning of January, more game was sighted and things began to look up. But this was not to last. Nerves began to fray. McNeish wrote in his diary: “Hussey is at present tormenting [us] with his six known tunes on his banjo.”(Lansing, 104) Greenstreet wrote:

“The monotony of life here is getting on our nerves. Nothing to do, nowhere to walk, no change insurroundings, food or anything. God send us open water soon or we shall go balmy.” (Lansing 104)

Even with the killing of a leopard seal and a few of crab-eater seals, food was still low. Eventually some of the dogs had to be shot to conserve food. Finally, at the end of January 1916, some good news: bad weather! A gale was blowing them stronglyin the right direction: “’Wonderful, amazing splendid,’ Shackleton wrote. ‘Lat. 65-degrees43’ South – 73miles North drift. The most cheerful good fortune for a year for us: We cannot be much more than 170 miles from Paulet. Everyone greeted the news with cheers. The wind still continues. We may get another 10 miles out of it. Thank God. Drifting still all wet in the tents but no matter. Had bannock to celebrate North of the circle.’  The Antarctic Circle now lay nearly a full degree of latitude behind them.”(Lansing, 109)

But still they had to wait. Somehow food continued to be found when the straights were most desperate. Some seals, penguins were found and killed. And so they continued to wait. James, the physicist,wrote about their dilemma: “We make all kinds of theories based sometimes on what we see about us of ice conditions, but more of this is based on nothing at all. Can’t help thinking of “Theory of Relativity.’ Anyhow we have only a horizon of a few miles & the Weddell Sea is roughly 200,000 square miles [actually it is closer to 900,000 square miles]. A bug on asingle molecule of oxygen in a gale of wind would have about the same chance of predicting where he was likely to finish up.” (Lansing 116)

On March 23, land was sighted, but the ice still had not opened up. It was almost maddening. Theycould see it, but they couldn’t get there. What they most wanted, however, was some food. Greenstreet wrote: “It is nice to think there is something else besides snow and ice in the world, but I fail to see any cause for excitement as it puts us no nearer to getting out. What I would far rather see would be a crowd of seals coming up so that we might get food and fuel.”(Lansing, 124)

Nerves continued to fray.  At one point in the early morning after the mug of milk was served, Macklin and Clark began to have words:

“…Macklin turned on Clark for some feeble reason, and the two men were almost immediately shouting at one another. The tension spread to Orde-Lees and Worsley and triggered a blasphemous exchange between them. In the midst of it, Greenstreet upset his powdered milk. He whirled on Clark, cursing him for causing the accident because Clark had called his attention for a moment. Clark tried to protest, but Greenstreet shouted him down.“Then Greenstreet paused to get his breath, and in that instant his anger was spent and he suddenly fell silent. Everyone else in the tent became quiet, too, and looked at Greenstreet, shaggy-haired, bearded, and filthy with blubber soot, holding his empty mug in his hand and looking helplessly down into the snow that had thirstily soaked up his precious milk. The loss was so tragic he seemed almost on the point of weeping. “Without speaking, Clark reached out and poured some of his milk into Greenstreet’s mug. Then Worsley, then Macklin, and Rickenson and Kerr, Orde-Lees, and finally Blackboro. They finished in silence.” (Lansing, 127)

Of Rogue Waves and Leadership – by Jodi Guerra

And so, after scouting the rest of the route, with ever increasing pressure ridges, Shackleton decided they would stay put and camp on the large flow they were already on. He had some men and dogs go back to the Endurance and bring the third lifeboat. They were also able to obtain more stores by hacking into the ship. Eventually they obtained three tons of food.

Astonishingly, on Ocean Camp life was almost the same as it had been at “The Ritz.” They spent the days reading, hunting, doing chores, working the dogs, etc. There were five tents. The men had to lie down when sleeping like sardines -unable to move.

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“…Clark noted that it had ‘all the ingredients of gunpowder.’ Kerr, Rickinson, and Blackborow were mild mannered. But Worsley was erratic and unpredictable, Macklin had a temper, Greenstreet and Orde-Lees tended to get on people’s nerves, and Clark had a constant sniff that drove people crazy. To everyone’s surprise, the men bonded despite occasional tension. Orde-Lees wrote, ‘We really get on wonderfully well considering the way that we are constantly and literally treading upon one another’s toes.” (Morrell, 142)

“Naturally, after witnessing this action, which brought home to me at any rate the shifting values in life and the knowledge that there are times when gold can be a liability instead of an asset, we all discarded everything save the barest necessaries.” (Perkins, 34)

“The ship herself presented an appalling sight. Sixty-nine quarrelsome huskies were tied forward; several tons of coal were heaped on the deck midships; and up in the rigging hung a ton of whale meat for use as dog food. It dripped blood constantly, spattering the deck and keeping the dogs in a near frenzy of anticipation hoping a piece would fall.” (Lansing, 25)

“’It was more than tantalizing, it was maddening, ‘Shackleton at this time showed one of his sparks of real greatness. He did not rage at all, or show outwardly the slightest sign of disappointment; he told us simply and calmly that we must winter in the Pack, explained its dangers and possibilities; never lost his optimism, and prepared for Winter.’” (Alexander, 44)

“Danger is one thing, but danger plus extreme discomfort for long periods is quite another. Most people can put up with a big of danger – it adds something to the challenge – but no one likes discomfort.”

“’We all manage to live very happily here on board in spite of conflicting interests and the fact that most members are what one might term rather definite personalities and of somewhat different stations in life,’ wrote Orde-Lees, ever mindful of class distinctions. Yet, he continues,’ There is no real need to have quarrels of any kind with one’s comrades. Amongst gentlemen quarrels should be and can be avoided and there is no reason therefore why that should not be the case down here.’ This was a particularly generous statement, written as it was only a short time after Hussey and Hurley had emptied a handful of lentils into his open mouth while he slept, to stop his snoring.” (Alexander, 54)

“’On these fields we spent many a happy hour,’ Macklin said. ‘All hands used to turn out and showed the greatest keenness; we were all in the pink of condition; the keen air gave an additional fillip, and the amount of energy expended was prodigious.’”

(Morrell, 111)

“The Billabong [cabin] has an atmosphere poetic. Macklin in his bunk is writing poetical verses, and I am doing the same. McIlroy is arranging a décolleté dancing rig, whilst Uncle Hussey is being beset by applicants to rehearse accompaniments on his banjo.” Written by Frank Hurley, the photographer (Morrell, 5)

Of Rogue Waves and Leadership  - by Jodi Guerra000

Shackleton did not run his ship in the traditional “Navy” way. The men’s quarters were not segregated by class distinctions. And neither was the work. Everyone pitched in no matter what the chore. Thomas Orde-Lees was a career Marine, and this definitely put him out of his element. His diaries are very chatty – he gives us the whole scoop. His entries are peppered with comments on the things he has to do:

“So I find we have got to work! The crew of the ship is insufficient for her needs as a sailing ship & so whenever she is under sail & a sail requires altering in any way we – the scientists, six of us – have to pull on the ropes. Rope pulling makes the hands sore & the ropes are exceedingly dirty & tarry but it is good exercise.”  (Alexander, 16)

“I simply hate scrubbing. I am able to put aside pride of caste in most things but I must say that I think scrubbing floors is not fair work for people who have been brought up in refinement.” (Alexander, 17)

Regardless of how Orde-Lees felt, the democratic tone of the ship was palpable. Everyone noticed who was doing what work.

“When Shackleton took over control of the ship, the ship officers had to climb down a peg or two, and did not take kindly to the new scheme of things,” Dr. Macklin said.” (Morrell, 89)

“You’d see them on their hands and knees scrubbing,” Seaman Walter How explained. “Mr. Clark and Dr. Macklin, they’d all take their turn.” No one complained, he said, and “if they did it was no good. There was one man [who was] boss and what he said went.” (Morrell, 90)

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Shackleton ran an efficient ship. Things were done on a schedule. Men were cross-trained as we’d say now. Scientists did the work of sailors and vice versa. Shackleton referred to these groups as the Abs and the BAs – able-bodied seaman and bachelor of arts! Dr. Macklin even guided the boat into Buenos Aires:

“Dr. Macklin describes pulling into Buenos Aires where they were guided into port by a local tug: ‘I was at the wheel when we entered, and the pilot was intensely amused that a doctor should be doing such work, saying that the Argentine doctors all get seasick the moment they set foot aboard ship. When we finally reached our berth he showed me off to all the bystanders as a great curiosity.” (Morrell, 91)

The doctors also scrubbed floors, got food stores, and other tasks.The seamen for their part had to help with the scientific stuff as well, such as taking readings, helping set up experiments, etc. Shackleton rotated membership in groups to foster camaraderie. As the men mixed together more, bonds grew and the men helped each other without being told to do so.

And Shackleton was the role model of this himself.  He took turns along with everyone else doing mundane tasks.  No job was beneath him. This made every job important and worthy of respect. Orde- Lees said of his cleaning ability:

“He had cleaned up the wardroom far better than the majority of night watchmen.” (Morrell, 94)

“And Reginald James was signed on as physicist after Shackleton inquired about the state of his teeth, whether he suffered from varicose veins, if he was good-tempered – and if he could sing. At this last question, James looked puzzled. ‘Oh, I don’t mean any Caruso stuff,’ Shackleton reassured him, ‘but I suppose you can shout a bit with the boys?’”

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“From the sentimental point of view, it is the last great Polar journey that can be made.

It will be a greater journey than the journey to the Pole and back, and I feel it is up to

the British nation to accomplish this, for we have been beaten at the conquest of the

North Pole and beaten at the conquest of the South Pole. There now remains the largest

and most striking of all journeys – the crossing of the Continent.” (Alexander, p.9)

“In appearance, the Endurance was beautiful by any standard. She was a barkentine – three masts, of which the forward one was square-rigged, while the after two carried fore-and-aft sails, like a schooner. She was powered by coal-fired, 350-hp steam engine, capable of driving her at speeds of up to 10.2 knots. She measured 144 feet over-all, with a 25-foot beam, which was not overbig, but big enough. And though her sleek black hull looked from the outside like that of any other vessel of a comparable size, it was not.

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“Her keel members were four pieces of solid oak, one above the other, adding up to a total thickness of 7 feet, 1inch. Her sides were made from oak and Norwegian mountain fir, and they varied in thickness from about 18 inches to more than 2 ½ feet. Outside this planking, to keep her from being chafed by the ice, there was a sheathing from stem to stern of greenheart, a wood so heavy it weighs more than solid iron and so tough that it cannot be worked with ordinary tools. Her frames were not only doublethick, ranging from 9 ¼ to 11 inches, but they were double in number, compared with a conventional vessel.

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“Her bow, where she would meet the ice head on, had received special attention. Each of the timbers there had been fashioned from a single oak tree especially selected so that its natural growth followed the curve of her design. When assembled, these pieces had a total thickness of 4 feet, 4 inches.” (Lansing, 17-18)

During the march back from 88 degrees south, one of Shackleton’s three companions, Frank Wild, who had not begun the expedition as a great admirer of Shackleton, recorded in his diary an incident that changed his mind forever. Following an inadequate meal of pemmican and pony meat on the night of January 31, 1909, Shackleton had privately forced upon Wild one of his own biscuits from the four that he, like the others, was rationed daily. “I do not suppose that anyone else in the world can thoroughly realize how much generosity and sympathy was shown by this,” Wild wrote, underlining his words. “I DO and by GOD I shall never forget it. Thousands of pounds would not have bought that one biscuit.”

(Alexander, 13.)

Of Rogue Waves and Leadership – by Jodi Guerra

He was born in 1874 in Ireland the second of ten children. His family had a Quaker background and had immigrated to Ireland from Yorkshire.  There were ten children in Shackleton’s family. He had nine siblings-eight sisters and one brother. His father, Henry Shackleton, was a landowner and farmer, but with Ireland’s diastrous potato crops, he knew that supporting his large family by farming would not be possible. When Ernest was six years old, Henry Shackleton moved the family to Dublin, Ireland and began his medical studies at Trinity College. He was thirty-three years old at the time. After finishing his medical training, Henry Shackleton moved the family from Dublin to London, England where he began his career as a doctor. His mother was a happy, strong, somewhat non-traditional woman. Altogether, his upbringing was comfortable, upper-middle class, stable and rather spiritual in that the Bible was read aloud.  He was homeschooled until he was around 10 and the family moved to London.

“The long days of white silence, the unrelenting tedium and hardship, the unrelieved close quarters – all these factors must have shredded the men’s nerves. Wilson appears to have been forced to act as peacemaker on more than one occasion. Years later, Scott’s second-in-command told the story that after breakfast one day Scott had called to the other men, “Come here, you bloody fools.” Wilson asked if he was speaking to him, and Scott replied no. “Then it must have been me,” said Shackleton. “Right, you’re the worst bloody fool of the lot, and every time you dare to speak to me like that, you’ll get it back.” It is a surreal encounter, a piece of absurd theater – three men alone at the ends of the earth in a virtual whiteout, hissing at one another.” (Alexander, Caroline. The Endurance: Shackleton’s Legendary Antarctic Expedition. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1999.)