The gale from the south-west blew all night and moderated during the
afternoon of the 2nd to a stiff breeze. The pressure had almost
ceased. Apparently the gale had driven the southern pack down upon us,
causing congestion in our area; the pressure had stopped when the whole
of the pack got into motion. The gale had given us some northing, but
it had dealt the 'Endurance' what might prove to be a severe blow. The
rudder had been driven hard over to starboard and the blade partially
torn away from the rudder-head. Heavy masses of ice were still jammed
against the stern, and it was impossible to ascertain the extent of the
damage at that time. I felt that it would be impossible in any case to
effect repairs in the moving pack. The ship lay steady all night, and
the sole sign of continuing pressure was an occasional slight rumbling
shock. We rigged shelters and kennels for the dogs inboard.

The weather on August 3 was overcast and misty. We had nine hours of
twilight, with good light at noon. There was no land in sight for ten
miles from the mast-head. The pack as far as the eye could reach was
in a condition of chaos, much rafted and consolidated, with very large
pressure-ridges in all directions. At 9 p.m. a rough altitude of
Canopus gave the latitude as 71° 55´ 17´´ S. The drift, therefore, had
been about 37 miles to the north in three days. Four of the poorest
dogs were shot this day. They were suffering severely from worms, and
we could not afford to keep sick dogs under the changed conditions.
The sun showed through the clouds on the northern horizon for an hour
on the 4th. There was no open water to be seen from aloft in any
direction. We saw from the masthead to west-south-west an appearance
of barrier, land, or a very long iceberg, about 20 odd miles away, but
the horizon clouded over before we could determine its nature. We
tried twice to make a sounding that day, but failed on each occasion.