Of Rogue Waves and Leadership by Jodi Guerra

They went on through the night, walking, walking and walking. Shackleton said later:

“It might have been different if we’d had only ourselves to think about. You can get so tired in the snow, particularly if you’re hungry, that sleep seems just the best thing life has to give. And to sleep out there is to die, to die without any pain at all, like Keats’s ideal of death. But if you’re a leader, a fellow that other fellows look to, you’ve got to keep going. That was the thought, which sailed us through the hurricane and tugged us up and down those mountains.”(Morrell, 194)

At one point they did stop to rest:

“They found a little sheltered spot behind a rock and sat down, huddled together with their arms around one another for warmth. Almost at once Worsley and Crean fell asleep, and Shackleton, too, caught himself nodding. Suddenly he jerked his head upright. All the years of Antarctic experience told him that this was the danger sign –the fatal sleep that trails off into freezing death. He fought to stay awake for five long minutes, then he woke the others, telling them that they had slept for half an hour.”

(Lansing, 269)

Finally, at 7 a.m. they Shackleton heard the factory whistle at the whaling station. The three men stood, smiled and shook hands. “Let’s go down,” Shackleton said.

After making their final descent, the men entered the village. Schoolboys ran from them in horror. Noone comes in or enters the village from that direction; strangers would be coming from the docks, not the mountains. And they probably wouldn’t look like these guys looked: heavy beards, ragged clothes, black faces from the oily smoke.

Whaling Factory in South Georgia

When they finally were taken and then appeared before the factory manager, he didn’t recognize them.“Who the hell are you?” he inquired. “My name is Shackleton,” the Boss replied.

The men were treated as heroes by the whalers. They couldn’t believe the voyage and trek across the mountains they had made. They were treated to a dinner that night.

After the dinner, Worsley left on a whaler to go to the other side of the island to pick up McNeish, McCarthy and Vincent.

In less than seventy-two hours, Shackleton was off attempting to reach Elephant Island. It took him four attempts and more than three months to do it, but he did finally get through the ice on August 30,1916.

The men on the island were in the habit of getting up getting going. Wild would yell out, “Lash up and stow! The Boss may come today!” Of course, many men were beginning to doubt that.

One day, however, he did finally come. As the men were huddled around eating lunch, Marston, the artist, came running in announcing the appearance of a ship. Of course, everyone ran out of their little hut. To much cheering the ship drew closer. A small boat was lowered, and Shackleton and Crean were in it. Shackleton had already counted out all twenty-two figures on the shore through his binoculars. “Are all well?” Shackleton shouted. “YES!” came the reply.

Awaiting Rescue

Epilogue:

Ernest Shackleton’s famous journey is a brilliant example of servant leadership in action. His story and the story of his ship the Endurance, named after the Shackleton  Family Motto, is nothing short of miraculous. It teaches us about the living nature of teamwork and about the unselfish, emergent nature of leadership.  It also teaches us about astonishing possibilities that miracles do happen.

Whenever someone points out an example of a great leader, I like to compare the person to Shackelton. If there were a “gold standard” of leadership Shackleton would certainly be it. Few are not moved by his story.

May it continue to inspire us to emulate his example and change the world for the better.

Shackelton and his Crew

Of Rogue Waves and Leadership by Jodi Guerra

Worsley also wrote:

“Looking back on this great boat journey, it seems certain that some of our men would have succumbed to the protracted strain but for Shackleton. So great was his care for his people that, to rough men, it seemed at times…even to the verge of fussiness. If a man shivered more than usual, he would plunge his hand into the heat of the spare clothes bag for the last sodden pair of socks for him.”

(Perkins, 59)

Even though Vincent and McNeish were strained, Crean and McCarthy proved invaluable. Crean and Shackleton had a special friendship:

“Tom Crean had been so long and done so much with Sir E that he had become a privileged retainer. As they turned in, a kind of wordless rumbling, muttering, growling noise could be heard issuing from the dark & gloomy lair in the bows sometimes directed at one another, sometimes at things in general, & sometimes at nothing at all. At times they were so full of quaint conceits & Crean’s remarks were so Irish that I ran risk of explosion by suppressed laughter. ‘Go to sleep Crean & don’t be clucking likean old hen.’ ‘ Boss, I can’t eat those reindeer hairs.  I’ll have an inside on me like a billy goats neck.  Let’s give ‘em to the Skipper & McCarthy. They never know what they’re eating’ & so on.”

(Alexander, 148)

McCarthy was, like Shackleton, just an out-and-out optimist:

“He is the most irrepressible optimist I’ve ever met. When I relieve him at the helm, boat iced and seas pourg:  down yr neck,  he informs me with a happy grin  ‘It’s a grandday, sir.’”  Written by Worlsey.

(Alexander, 148)

And so, even in the midst of all this danger and constant soaking, wetness and ice, they could laugh and get along.

Worsley, with all of the bad weather, and the damage done to his charts by the constant soaking, had only been able to calculate their position four times. The situation was growing dire. If Worsley had miscalculated, and they missed South Georgia, the ocean eastward is a complete void for 3,000 miles until you reach South Africa. And so, they couldn’t afford a mistake.

Then one day, a piece of kelp rolled by and then a cormorant flew over. These birds rarely fly further than fifteen miles from land. Finally, McCarthy shouted, “Land!” It was a little over ten miles away.

The men desperately needed to land. They had been without water for two days. They indeed tried to land, but couldn’t find a place to do so that was safe. They knew that after this night they would be on land. What a relief this must have been. But, true to the pattern, a storm blew them away from the coast. They were almost wrecked and killed, but somehow they were spared. The danger was so grave that, in fact, both Worsley and Shackleton have recorded their resignation and disappointment. They had made such a phenomenally extraordinary journey, and no one would ever know it.  The storm was actually a hurricane that suddenly blew up. This same storm caused a 500-ton steamer to founder. I told you God was saving this man!

Finally, finally, they got to a cove and made landfall on South Georgia.  And so providentially, right where they landed was a water source: a stream. It was May 10, 1916, 522 days after they had first left South Georgia.

Alexander explains the significance of their voyage:

“Undoubtedly they were conscious of having achieved a great journey…But at the moment they could hardly have known – or cared – that in the carefully weighed judgment of authorities yet to come, the voyage of the James Caird would be ranked as one of the greatest boat journeys ever accomplished.”

(Alexander, 153)

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