Sunday, March 21, 2010

21 March, 1911

Well, well, fortune is not being very kind to us. That's fortune's call, I suppose.

What dreadful weather we are having; yet another gale has swathed us in brine and taken out the seal floe.

The ponies are sheltered, but we have had to release most of the dogs. They get so cold in their hindquarters when they get all iced up; hoping that releasing them from their chains will allow them to warm themselves. Some are in very poor shape. I wonder if there's anything to that idea that the dogs will be good servants if you are a good master? We try to be good masters but they always appear to want to do their own thing.

I wonder what we'll be doing a year from now? Back at Cape Evans catching the ship, perhaps. I would certainly hate to be out on the Barrier is the weather is anything like this.

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