Читать книгу With Scott Before The Mast - Francis H. Davies - Страница 9

Chapter II. Getting Ready to Leave

The following morning I presented myself at the offices of the Expedition for an interview with Captain Scott. I was shown into a waiting-room where there was a great variety of the smaller items of polar equipment – clothing, harness for dogs and ponies, skis, pony snow-shoes, cookers and a hundred and one miscellaneous articles. While I was waiting, another gentleman very bronzed and wearing an ancient raincoat, was shown into the room. He, I noticed was particularly interested in the equipment for the ponies. This was Captain Oates of the Inniskilling Dragoons, although it was not until several days later I knew who he was.

My interview with Captain Scott was very satisfactory from my point of view. He asked me why I wanted to go with the expedition and being satisfied with my replies, went on to explain what would be expected of me. My principal job he said would be the erection of Winter Quarters for the Southern party, which was to make an attempt to reach the South Pole, and the eastern party which was to explore King Edward VII Land at the eastern end of the Great Ice Barrier, discovered by Captain Scott on his first expedition. He also told me that I would be paid £40 a year, adding that if I made a success of the job he wouldn’t say what he would do for me, but if on the other hand I failed to come up to scratch I would be for the high jump.

Lieutenant Evans RN the Second in Command of the expedition, was also present at the interview. Antarctic exploration was not new to him, he had served as navigator of Morning, when that ship together with Terra Nova went to the relief of Discovery, beset in the ice of McMurdo Sound on Captain Scott’s first expedition. After the interview Lieutenant Evans took me along to the expedition ship then fitting out in the West India Docks.

What I expected to see I don’t quite remember, but I was much taken aback when I got my first sight of her, she looked an absolute wreck fit only for the knackers yard, long overdue in fact. A sailing ship was a new experience for me. Up to then all my sailoring had been in ships of the King’s Navee where everything was spick and span, regardless of expenses, ‘all ship-shape and Bristol fashion’ as we say at sea. I certainly saw Terra Nova at her worst.

The fact that the yardarms were all askew and the riggers were working aloft added further to the appearance of complete chaos. On the poop shipwrights were extending the saloon to provide additional accommodation for extra personnel and building laboratories for the scientists, amidships a large ice box was being built for transporting frozen meat from New Zealand for the shore parties and, what with all this going on and spare yards and spare rudder hardly a square foot of deck was visible.

Lieutenant Evans had told me going down in the train that he was rather worried about the condition of the ship and that the Board of Trade Surveyor had found so many defects which he wanted made good before he would give a certificate of sea-worthiness that he doubted very much if she could be got ready in time to catch the next Antarctic summer season. There was, however, he said, the possibility that Captain Scott would be elected a member of the Royal Yacht Squadron, and in that case we should no longer be troubled by the surveyor.

Captain Scott wanted his old ship Discovery which had been specially built for his first expedition, then owned by the Hudson Bay Company, she was in fact tied up in the West India Dock at the time but they could not be persuaded to part with her, so the next best thing was Terra Nova. There were not many of this class of ship to pick and choose from.

After Lieutenant Evans had shown me over the vessel pointing out her many weaknesses, he asked me if I would be afraid to sail in her as she was. It was hardly a fair question to put to me if he wanted a conscientious answer for I would have sailed in anything for the privilege of going on such an adventure.

Battered and scarred as she was, she still remained a fine ship having been soundly and truly built of well seasoned timber some twenty five years earlier. On one or two occasions she had been badly squeezed in the pack-ice, once so badly, I was told, that all her hatches were out of shape. For many seasons she had been sailing out of St. Johns, Newfoundland, and afterwards was badly neglected, possibly due to circumstances over which her owners had no control, for there was not much profit in the whaling industry in those days in spite of the dangers and hardships inseparable from that calling. She was also in a very filthy condition though in that respect, no worse than other ships engaged in this unpleasant occupation.

Under four hundred tons register she was built at Dundee in 1885, barque rigged with auxiliary steam power for pushing through the ice. Originally she was fitted with a two bladed propeller that was hoisted in over the trunk when she was under sail only, reminiscent of the days of sail and steam in the Royal Navy when up funnel and down screw was a familiar pipe. Sometime since she had been fitted with four bladed propellers and this made her a bad sailor, it dragged like a sea anchor. She had the most beautiful hull form I have ever seen and from the point of view of stability she was very seaworthy in spite of her heavy top hamper of masts and yards, a grand old lady of the sea.

Whilst getting my first once over of the ship, I was introduced to three of my new shipmates, *[note 1] Mick Crean, Taff Evans and Bill Smythe who were busy with the riggers sending up the yards. All had served in Discovery with Captain Scott on his first expedition and all had been seamen petty officers in the Royal Navy, Taff Evans and Mick Crean were still serving and had been released by the Admiralty for service with the expedition. Bill Smythe had found the Navy not to his liking after life in the Antarctic and had taken his discharge at the end of his first period of twelve years and had since sailed in tramps, he had now shipped as sailmaker.

They were all very fine seamen, such as we are not likely to see again, particularly as the sailing ship has almost had its day. What characters they were, Mick, with his ever ready smile and Irish wit was for ever chewing ‘baccy, the quid rarely left his cheek except perhaps on odd occasions when he might be sent for by an officer, then it was transferred to his cap. His scalp, with its thinning, unkempt hair to which fragments of tobacco clung like tea leaves was stained brown by the juice of the quids which had found a temporary resting place.

Taff was enormously powerful and might have been a model for the man on the posters advertising a well known brand of stout. He had on more than one occasion been one of the field gun’s crew representing the Portsmouth Command at the Royal Tournament, Olympia. At dinner time these three worthies suggested they should show me where to get some ‘chow’. From the knowing look on their faces I guessed they were sizing me up, wondering if I would be good for a pint or two of ‘Harry Freemans’ (beer). I was really very pleased to be included in their company as I felt quite lost on the beach on my own and it would, I thought, be a good opportunity to pay my footing, which according to ancient nautical custom I should be expected to do sooner than later.

We went to a pub just outside the dock gates, called oddly enough ‘The North Pole’, as we passed the policemen on duty at the dock gates he handed Mick a can which Mick accepted without a word being spoken on either side. I was to find out the meaning of the can in the days that followed to my cost, custom demanded a pint for the policeman on the way back.

Knowing chaps those ‘bobbies’. Never did any of the crew slip out to the pub for a quiet one without being handed the can, what they did with it all puzzled me, they must have hollow legs.

‘The North Pole’ became a home from home for most of the crew till the ship sailed. For threepence we could get enough bread and cheese with pickled onions for a good tuck in, and as much beer as we could pay for or strap at tuppence a pint from 6 p.m. till midnight, with civility thrown in for good measure.

That was in the ‘bad old days’ of course, before this fine old country of ours had shipped the bonds of freedom, when we really were free and it was not considered necessary to pipe the fact every time the bell struck to bring it to notice. It is pleasant to remember having lived in those days. Times have changed a good deal since those not so far off times. I’m afraid the common man has swallowed the bait of democracy hook, line and sinker, and sprung the trap, and it will be a long time before he will gnaw his way to freedom again. As for my own generation. Well, we’ve had it, Chums!

A day or two after I joined the ship she was inclined for stability by a ship constructor from the Admiralty. Amongst the people who were assisting the seamen to hump the pig iron ballast from side to side of the ship to incline her, was Captain Oates, rigged in a serge suit and peak cap. None of us knew who he was up to this time and many were the guesses, all wrong.

I joined the ship in civvies, wearing a bowler hat, then very fashionable. Mick, when introduced mistook me for one of the scientists and said ‘pleased to meet you, Sir’ he never got over that mistake on his part and often ragged me about it, saying, ‘me, calling a …“hard hat”, Sir!’

The seamen generally worked aloft in bare feet, even when fitting out. Taff and Mick were in digs together, Taff used to spin the yarn that his first job mornings was to separate Mick from the sheets which had become stuck to the tar on his feet.

On one occasion they went shopping somewhere in Petticoat Lane and York Road. Taff wanted a ‘civvy’ suit and naturally did not want to pay too much for it, more clothes meant less beer. He spotted a suit on one of the barrows and thought it just what he was looking for. He tried the coat on as the barrow man, gathering a fathom in his hand at the back, told him it fitted him like ‘ de paper on de vall.’ The salesman wrapped it in paper and off they sailed, very pleased with themselves. It was rather late that night when they reached their digs, even so, Taff wanted to admire his new suit. When he opened the parcel all he found were two potato sacks. Either the barrow man, or somebody had rung the changes on him in one of the many pubs they had visited.

My most important job before the ship sailed was to see that the huts to be erected in the Antarctic as Winter Quarters for the shore parties were complete in every detail. Huts they styled, but they were more like Parish halls. The larger of the two for the Southern party was fifty by twenty five feet and the other for the Eastern party twenty five by twenty five feet. They were not made in sections as this would take up too much storage in the ship but the frames were mortised and tenoned as far as possible for easy erection. The framework was being made and erected, temporarily, on some waste ground at Poplar. This I could see was all in order, but the timber for cladding the huts was being supplied from the sawmills direct to the ship and this was not so satisfactory. I had asked the firm’s representative, a rather garrulous old gentleman on several occasions to let me have a copy of the orders so that I could check on it, but he always put me off with the assurance that there was plenty, and to spare of boarding, and invariably added that he had erected this class of building in every country in Europe.

I did not intend, however, to take any chances and eventually went to the sawmills myself and got a copy of the order. On checking it I found it was being supplied in squares (100 superficial feet) irrespective of the precise length of boards required. This meant a loss of at least 10% in cutting, just waste. I spoke first to the foreman on the job about the shortage and I could see he more or less agreed, but I suppose it was more than his job was worth to tell me so. Then I tackled the representative when next he came on the job. He still tried the old assurance subterfuge but this time it wasn’t going to work, and as I could not persuade him to do anything about it and the ship was due to sail in a few days, I reported the matter to Captain Scott.

The following day I received a wire from Captain Scott to appear at the office. There I found the garrulous old gentleman and his foreman. Captain Scott went into the matter very carefully and at first told me he was quite satisfied there was sufficient boarding. I again pointed out the amount of waste in cutting, due to the boards not being supplied in proper lengths and said I could not take any responsibility for erecting the huts unless I had the material I required. Captain Scott then saw what I was driving at and told the old gentleman that unless he was able to satisfy me there was sufficient material, before the ship sailed, the firm would not get a penny piece for the job.

I got what was necessary and apologies from the old chap, who admitted he had made a mistake not a serious one where a few hundred feet was easily obtainable, but rather so, in the Antarctic. He came down to see me before we sailed and tried to slip me half a sovereign, but I told him I wasn’t that sort of chap. He then promised to send me a box of cigars for Christmas perhaps he did, anyhow I never received them. During a conversation towards the end of the expedition, Lieutenant Pennell said to me, ‘You have done some fine jobs from time to time, Davies, which do you consider your best?’ I replied, ‘getting the huts away complete from London.’

Up to within a day or two of the ship sailing I felt the whole show as far as I was concerned might come unstuck, and this caused me great anxiety for up to that time I had not been medically examined by the expedition doctors and I really did not fancy my chances. However, my fears were groundless, I managed to get by all right.

Before we departed some members of a learned society calipered our heads and took the colour of our eyes and skin, presumably to note if these were affected in any way by the intense cold. They were elderly people and as we did not see them when we returned I suppose they had passed on to where these matters are of little concern.

All the stores were collected in a warehouse close to where the ship lay, and were sorted out for loading in their proper order. These had in many cases been supplied by the firms who manufactured them, free of charge, and were packed in light three ply Venesta cases, each about fifty pounds in weight for easy handling, the contents being stencilled on the outside with a distinctive band either red, green or black to indicate whether the case was for the Southern Party, Eastern Party or ship’s party.

We were all working like beavers to get the ship ready by the appointed date, but it was not all work and no play, our evenings were generally free and we made the best of them seeing the sights of London.

Being sailors it is hardly necessary to mention that the famous taverns came in for more than a fair share of attention. Beer was beer in those days, unlike the present “near water” infliction of today, and at a price that even the common folk could afford.

In this atmosphere the crew got to know each other and happy memories of those hilarious evenings were often recalled during the hard years that followed.

At last sailing day, 1 June1910, hove round. Captain Scott had been elected a member of the Royal Yacht Squadron and the hoisting of the white Ensign for the first time was made the occasion of a little ceremony on the poop, Lady Bridgeman, wife of Admiral Sir Francis Bridgeman, a Lord of the Admiralty, breaking the flag at the peak.

Copy of list of materials for construction of huts. Davies argued with suppliers and was adamant about ensuring sufficient quantities were acquired

Many of the stores were still on deck, there had been such a rush in the last hour or two to get everything on board. On the day of departure there was a very big crowd to bid the farewell and God speed, also much cheering. As the ship cast off from the jetty the crowd struck up ‘All The Nice Girls Love A Sailor’. The girls from ‘The North Pole’ were there too, right in front shedding tears as large as gooseberries. Many of the ships in port were dressed over all (flying strings of flags) and blew their sirens as we passed down the river.

Our first port of call was Portsmouth to pick up some special Navigational instruments which were being loaned by the Admiralty. Leaving Portsmouth, on our way down Channel en route for Cardiff, we steamed into Portland harbour and through the fleet which was assembling for a review at Spithead in honour of a visit from the King of Spain. It was a grand sight, Britain’s sure shield, the Royal Navy. As we passed through the lines of ships their crews cheered us on our way, it was a wonderful send off.

At Cardiff we loaded thirty tons of coal briquettes, fuel for the shore parties, and about four hundred tons of coal, gifts from the shipowners of Cardiff. We were entertained right royally at Cardiff. I remember one rather amusing incident which happened at a reception given in honour of Captain Scott by the Lord Mayor at the City Hall, to which the ship’s company was invited. As one of the seamen, accompanied by a lady friend was ascending the marble stairs behind a lady wearing a train, he accidentally stepped on it.

The lady turned round and in very dignified and haughty manner, fixed him with her lorgnette. He was so caught aback he almost forgot to apologise.

Cardiff also did the expedition proud in the matter of funds. One night at a dinner given by the shipowners to which we were all invited, Mr. Dan Radcliff, the shipowner, gave a fairly large sum and ragged his brother, Henry, to follow suit.

Things got rather hectic towards the end of the evening, most of us were well oiled when Mr. Dan, in a burst of exuberance got on the table and walked from end to end. Dodging the bottles just to show us he was still able, I suppose. We were also entertained at the Stock Exchange to lunch and the hospitality of its members wanted some standing up to.

Captain Scott, to show his appreciation of the exceptionally practical help and interest in the expedition by the citizens of Cardiff, promised the Lord Mayor that Cardiff should be the port of call in the United Kingdom on his return – three years later to the date on which we sailed Terra Nova returned to Cardiff - ALAS Without Captain Scott and his gallant companions who had perished with him.

After the ship had been loaded with coal a very serious leak developed, making nearly four feet of water a watch. It was thought to be somewhere in the bows, anyhow a certain amount could be heard trickling in near the stern. However, as it could not be located by the shipwrights it was decided to proceed and hope for the best, and to see what could be done in Lyttleton, where she would be dry docked before leaving for the Antarctic. This leek caused us a great deal of trouble from first to last, before it was discovered quite by accident nearly two years later.

Captain Scott did not sail in the ship from Cardiff, joining her later at Simonstown, South Africa. He had a very full programme of lectures to raise badly needed funds for the venture.

Mrs Scott on board Terra Nova just before the ship sailed from England with Lieut Henry R. Bowers and Captain Lawrence E.G. Oates

Lady Bridgeman- Raising Ensign

Petty Officer Edger ‘Taff’ Evans