Kathleen and I returned to shore to spend a last few days by ourselves before going by train to meet the ship at Port Chalmers. Here she is: isn't she lovely? All that hair! I quite prefer her with it down, like this, as opposed to the way she wears it all pulled up, the way all the ladies do. She looks less severe like this.
Taff Evans has given the most distressing trouble, getting drunk and falling into the water while trying to board ship. His behaviour is disgraceful. I refused to let him come on. He does pose a sticky problem for me, since I am so indebted to him from our Discovery days together, and I may have rashly promised him a stab at the Pole, for which I shall no doubt be sorry one day. But what am I to do? One simply can't abide drunkenness and there shall be hell to pay if I let him back on.
Walked over the hills in the evening with Kathleen and saw the lovely Terra Nova off in the distance, just a speck on the horizon.
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