10 January, 1911

After today I can say at last we are well and truly landed. Just as well, because the weather looks about to turn. All day long we brought in fodder, which has been stacked up against one wall of the hut to help insulate it. Patent fuel was also unloaded, 12 tons of it.

The ponies are giving us trouble, a few of them very skittish and bolting for it on occasion with sledges bouncing wildly behind. We think some of the dogs have snow blindness. Atkinson's autopsy revealed no infection, which is a relief, and he thinks the fault lies with the brain, which was left unexamined.

Our hut is thought to be a success all around. It is 50 feet long by 25 feet wide, with several alternating layers of boarding, quilted seaweed and rubberoid. All of the vents and pipes are fitted with dampers so the warm air stays in. There is plenty of black volcanic sand to heap against the walls on the outside to prevent drafts. Davies, our "Chippy Chap" has done a splendid job and is helped apace by many eager hands.

The officers and scientific staff are housed separately from the men by a large bulkhead of cases containing items which would freeze and crack if left outside; glasses and wine. They have their own mess table. It is important that the hut run as a ship, and that everyone know their place.

I am quite cheery.