7 March, 1911

We are in every respect absolutely comfortable, though cold, in the Hut. There is unlimited biscuit and unlimited seal meat.We have heaps of cocoa, coffee, and tea, and a sufficiency of sugar and salt. In addition we have a small store of luxuries: chocolate, raisins, oatmeal, sardines, and jams, which will serve to vary the fare. One way or another we shall manage to be very comfortable during our stay here.

Am quite beside myself with a full stomach. Must not get indigestion.

I bet Amundsen doesn't have chocolate or raisins. And jam.

Actually, I bet he does.

6 March, 1911

Lots of back and forth today; went up and collected in the last of the sledges, men and ponies. At the Hut we have thrown up a wall to partition off living quarters and are starting on a brick blubber stove for improve ventilation. We also brought in asbestos sheets for insulation.

It is good to have all of us safely under one roof again.

Asbestos is really an extraordinary boon. I can imagine it being of much use in buildings as a fire retardant for years to come. I am very glad we have great load of it here to use. Does make you choke a bit when handled roughly, though - it is very friable. Still, I'd rather have that than breathe in all that blubber smoke!

5 March, 1911

Evans came down to help us get up to a camp under Castle Rock. Oates led the pony. After lunch, Atkinson and Gran appeared. Our crampons are flimsy and could use much improvement.

I sent Gran to Safety Camp for sugar and chocolate, though some will say he volunteered. I just think he wanted to show off by whipping down the enormous slope we'd spent all morning slogging up on his ski in a matter of seconds. The men all admired him greatly. I suppose it will make one popular to offer to fetch chocolate. He certainly knows when to step up to do his share to great effect.

Then seven of us marched on to Hut Point. This involved some exciting downhill sledge work which elicited some whoops and hollers from the men who had not yet had a chance to experience the reverse of all our pushing.

The Hut is in comparative order, so we are sleeping here. Bill and Meares met us black as sweeps! The cause for this was that they had a blubber stove going without any chimney - the Hut was filled with smoke. Bowers was so sick with it he couldn't eat his meal!

We shall stay here a while.

4 March, 1911

Marching up the hill to camp under Castle Rock today.

I always associate this time of year with Spring: daffodils, crocus, the chirp of birds flitting through the air making nests. Here, though, it means autumn, though without any of the signs one is used to from nature, just darker evenings and lower temperatures.

Am looking forward to sleeping in a bed again, under a roof. I know it is by far preferable to enjoy the rough cold and that I must embrace it, but still, one is at times wistful of comfort.

3rd March, 1911

It took us four hours to trudge just three miles this morning. The notes left at Safety Camp for Evans are not there. Also, the camp we hastily abandoned when we first came up on all this trouble days ago is wiped clean: nothing there either. Just sledge tracks and a set of pony hoofprints leading inland.

After pitching camp at Pram Point, Evans and his party approached. They are all in good condition. They returned to their camp later on, taking one of our sledges.

We are all pretty exhausted with the events of the last few days.

So far, one of our motor sledges and three of our ponies dropped into the sea. Not counting the ones we lost on the voyage out. We can't keep this up or we'll look like right fools.

2nd March, 1911

Turned everyone out at 8:30 AM to find that our three ponies out on the ice had floated away. It was a sad moment. As we were eating breakfast, Bowers spotted them about a mile away through his binoculars, so we packed and went off at once to see if we couldn't save them.

I thought I found a spot they could get up on the Barrier edge, but the others, who had rushed out onto the ice, tried to jump Punch across a crack to another floe, and the poor beast fell in. They tried and tried to pull him out to no avail—he was suffering terribly, and Oates had to end it for him with a pick-axe. It was a very sorry scene.

I ordered Bowers to leave the ponies, reckoning that I'd rather lose them than the men on this tricky ice, but he's stubborn and pretended not to hear me. He rushed Nobby at a jump, but the animal refused. Still, he wouldn't give up, and succeeded eventually. Oates took the opportunity to rush his pony too. Then we had to work our way along the Barrier edge to find a place to bring them up. Bowers hopped about 40 floes to bring them close to the spot.

Suddenly, where their ice was jambed, a pod of killer whales appeared in a stretch of open water, spooking the horses. Uncle Bill flailed sideways making his jump and ended up in the water. I rushed Nobby up onto the Barrier to safety while Bowers and Oates struggled with the panicked horse. Why the whales didn't leap up to eat him I don't know. They tied a rope around his feet and dragged him up into the floe, but he was done and wouldn't get up. When he did he kept slipping into the water again.

At this point, the Barrier itself started breaking up, which meant they had to come up immediately. Evidently they had a bit of an argument about what to do. Then I saw Oates pointing to a spot and poor Bowers struck with the axe. They clambered up to meet me trailing blood—it was quite horrible. He said he'd rather have done that then let him starve or be taken by the whales.

We took brave Nobby back to our old camp, the only pony to survive of the five we had at One Ton Depot. Bowers is extremely cut about about it. Oates told me he never wants to have to kill an animal with a pick-axe again, and I don't blame him: I certainly couldn't do it.

1st March, 1911

Weary Willy died in the night. All our efforts in vain! It is clear that the condition of the ponies will not stand up to these blizzards, and that they need time for their coats to come in. This absolutely necessitates a late start for the next year.

We have bought our experience at hard cost. Now, every effort must be made to save the remaining ponies.

Sent Bowers, Crean and Cherry out with four ponies - Guts, Nobby, Punch and Uncle Bill.

Later:

Oates, Gran and I turned out early, only to see great black mirages on the horizon. At least, they seemed like mirages at first, but alas! They turned out to be what I most feared - long black stretches of open water: the Barrier has started to break up! As we neared our depot, we could see that the sea ice was full of broken pieces of the Barrier edge. We made our way on til I could be sure of a safe spot, and set up tent. I wanted to warn Evans and his party. I sent Gran out with a note.

Meanwhile, after going over our situation with Oates, I spotted two figures coming towards us - Wilson and Meares, as it turns out, with the dog teams. They were surprised to see us, having seen ponies out on the sea ice, and thought it was we. We made them cocoa, as they had started off without breakfast. Just after this, Wilson saw a figure coming towards us from the west - it was Crean, exhausted and almost incoherent, telling us that disaster had befallen his team.

What had happened was this: Having come up against this broken ice yesterday, they had set up camp, only to be awoken in the middle of the night by noises. Bowers went out thinking his pony had gotten into his oats again only to discover a pool of water where Guts had been! The ice they were on had split off entirely and was floating out to sea! They dashed about to pack up their kit, Bowers rushing out to save the two sledges in just his stocking feet, and over the next several hours had leaped from floe to floe as one bumped up alongside the other, leading the ponies across, then going back for the sledges. Eventually, they came up against a part of the Barrier where it was possible for a man to climb up and seek help: though both he and Cherry volunteered, Crean was chosen to go. Cherry, after all, has such bad eyesight. Bowers wouldn't think of coming up, and saving himself. All the while, great killer whales were hunting and thrashing about them, lunging up just yards from where they stood, on a feeding frenzy to get at the seals imperiled by the break-up of the ice. This is where he left them.

Immediately, I sent Gran back to Hut point with Meares and Wilson, to warn Evans's party. I took Crean and Oates on to see if we could catch sight of Bowers and Cherry and the ponies. Good Lord, how I cursed myself for pushing them on, and was plagued mightily by the thought that I might be responsible for their deaths.

To my great joy we saw them. With the aid of our Alpine rope, we got both men to safety, and set up camp a good half mile inland where we could be pretty certain the ice was still safe. Bowers was terribly anxious about leaving his ponies out on the ice, but what could we do? There was no way to get them up the 15-20 feet sheer cliff of the Barrier. We left them well-fed, and there they stood.

Upon reaching them, Bowers said to me "What about the ponies and the sledges?" and I replied that I didn't give a damn about them. "It's you I want," I called down, "and I'm going to see you safe here up on the Barrier before I do anything else." Once they were up, having used both sledges as ladders - I told them "My dear chaps, you can't think how glad I am to see you safe—Cherry likewise." Bowers, being the plucky sod he is, was determined to get the sledges, so I let him.

Bowers and I took a walk down to the edge to see how the ponies were faring and could see that by this point (3AM) they had drifted out a long way. He tried to cheer me up by reminding me that Campbell wouldn't be needing his ponies now, which gave us two more. I told him that they were out only chance, as I had no confidence in the motor sledges, having seen how badly they handled when unloading the ship.

I fear I must have been drained of reason when I shared a confidence with him, that as far as the Pole is concerned at this point I have very little hope.

I have now ordered everyone rest, as we got no sleep last night, and everyone's been in great shock. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.