heard the emperors utter any other than the most simple calls or cries,
and the effect of this concerted effort was almost startling.

Then came a fateful day--Wednesday, October 27. The position was lat.
69° 5´ S., long. 51° 30´ W. The temperature was -8.5° Fahr., a gentle
southerly breeze was blowing and the sun shone in a clear sky.

"After long months of ceaseless anxiety and strain, after times when
hope beat high and times when the outlook was black indeed, the end of
the 'Endurance' has come. But though we have been compelled to abandon
the ship, which is crushed beyond all hope of ever being righted, we
are alive and well, and we have stores and equipment for the task that
lies before us. The task is to reach land with all the members of the
Expedition. It is hard to write what I feel. To a sailor his ship is
more than a floating home, and in the 'Endurance' I had centred
ambitions, hopes, and desires. Now, straining and groaning, her
timbers cracking and her wounds gaping, she is slowly giving up her
sentient life at the very outset of her career. She is crushed and
abandoned after drifting more than 570 miles in a north-westerly
direction during the 281 days since she became locked in the ice. The
distance from the point where she became beset to the place where she
now rests mortally hurt in the grip of the floes is 573 miles, but the
total drift through all observed positions has been 1186 miles, and
probably we actually covered more than 1500 miles. We are now 346 miles
from Paulet Island, the nearest point where there is any possibility of
finding food and shelter. A small hut built there by the Swedish
expedition in 1902 is filled with stores left by the Argentine relief
ship. I know all about those stores, for I purchased them in London on
behalf of the Argentine Government when they asked me to equip the
relief expedition. The distance to the nearest barrier west of us is