Part 59 (1/2)
Captain Scott was desirous of establis.h.i.+ng a base on Macquarie Island in 1910, but circ.u.mstances compelled him to abandon the idea. And so it came that we five men of Dr. Mawson's Expedition were landed on December 22, 1911, with a programme of work outlined by our leader. H. Hamilton was biologist, L. R. Blake surveyor and geologist, C. A. Sandell and A.
J. Sawyer were wireless operators, the former being also a mechanic, and I was appointed meteorologist and leader of the party.
We stood on the beach in the dusk, watching the boat's party struggle back to the 'Aurora', which lay at anchor one and a half miles from the north-west sh.o.r.e. Having received a soaking landing in the surf and being tired out with the exertions of the day, we started back to our temporary shelter. We had not gone very far when a mysterious sound, followed by a shaking of the earth, made us glance at each other and exclaim, ”An earthquake!” The occurrence gave rise to a discussion which carried us to bed.
Seeing that we were to spend a long time on the island, the question of building a hut was the first consideration. Through the kindness of Mr.
Bauer, who had just left the island in the s.s. 'Toroa', we were able to live for the time being in the sealers' hut.
It was urgent to get the wireless station into working order as soon as possible. The masts and operating-hut had been erected during the stay of the 'Aurora', but there yet remained the building of the engine-hut and the installation of the machinery and instruments, as well as the construction and erection of the aerial. Accordingly we proceeded with the living-hut and the job on Wireless Hill at the same time, working on the hill most of the day and at the hut in the evening.
Wireless Hill rose to three hundred and fifty feet in height, and formed part of a peninsula running in a northeasterly direction from the main island. It had been chosen by Mr. Hannam of the Adelie Land party because of its open northerly aspect, and because ”wireless” waves would probably have a good ”set-off,” southward to the Main Base in Antarctica.
Just a few yards from the base of the hill on its southwestern side was a huge rock, upon the easterly side of which we decided to build our dwelling. The timbers for the hut had been cut and fitted in Hobart, so all that remained for us was to put them together.
After working at high pressure until December 30, we were able to establish ourselves in a home. The doorway faced to the east, and the rock protected the small place from the strong westerly weather which is invariable in these lat.i.tudes. The dimensions were twenty feet by thirteen feet, the front wall being nine feet six inches high, sloping to seven feet six inches at the back. All the timbers were of oregon and deal, and particular attention was paid to bracing and strengthening the building, which rested on piles just clear of the sandy surface.
The inside was lined and ceiled, and the roof of galvanized iron was set flush with the front wall, fascia boards along the front and sides being designed to keep the fine snow from blowing under the corrugations and lodging on the ceiling. ”George V Villa” was fixed upon as the name, but the hut was never at any time referred to as the villa, and in future will always be known as the Shack.
[TEXT ILl.u.s.tRATION]
Plan of Hut--Macquarie Island
Twelve live sheep had been landed, and these had been driven on to Wireless Hill so as to be accessible. We decided to kill one for Christmas, so on December 24 Sandell and I, leaving the others at work on the Shack, started out.
The hillsides are deeply ravined and the slopes covered with a dense growth of tussock, which renders progress uncertain and laborious. Our experience was a foretaste of many to come. We found the sheep huddled together in a deep gully on the eastern side, and drove them round to the front of the hill, where one was caught, killed and dressed.
Christmas Day dawned fine and sunny, and we decided to make some attempt at a dinner. Blake produced a plum pudding, and this, together with roast mutton and several kinds of vegetables, washed down with a little claret, const.i.tuted our first Christmas dinner.
The sealing schooner, Clyde, had been wrecked without loss of life on November 14, 1911, on the east coast, and was now lying on the beach nearly half a mile away. A two-hundred-gallon tank had been saved from the wreck and we managed on Christmas morning, after two hours of carrying and trundling, to place it at the end of the Shack. This was a valuable find, ensuring in the future a constant, convenient supply of rain water. Further, we made use of the timber of the wreck for building, and the broken pieces strewn about were stored up as firewood.
On the 26th we all went to the wireless station, and, as Sandell had the aerial made, we pulled it into position. In the afternoon I unpacked all my instruments and started them off so as to make sure that all were working correctly. I did not intend to record any observations till January 1, 1912, and therefore did not erect the meteorological screen until the 28th.
On moving into our abode domestic arrangements were made. With regard to cooking, each man took duty for a week, during which he was able to write up his work and to wash and mend clothes. To Hamilton and Sandell, who had had previous experience, frequent appeals were made as to methods of cooking various dishes, but by degrees each one a.s.serted his independence. There were several cookery books for reference and each week saw the appearance of some new pudding, in each instance prefaced by the boast: ”This is going to be the best pudding ever turned out on the island!” The promise was not always made good.
We had a good deal of difficulty at first in making bread and several batches were very ”heavy” failures. This difficulty, however, was soon overcome and, after the first few months, the cooking standard was high and well maintained. Our stove was very small and only two loaves of bread could be cooked at once. It frequently happened, therefore, that the others, which would go on rising in the tins, overflowed; a matter which could only be set right by experience.
On New Year's Day, 1912, we carried timber in relays from the wreck to the top of Wireless Hill, so that the building of the engine-hut could be started. The next few days were occupied in getting food-stuffs, medicines, stationery, clothing and other necessaries over to the Shack from the landing-place on the beach. Blake and Hamilton unpacked their instruments and appliances, fitting up a small laboratory and photographic dark-room in one corner of the hut.
Some kind Hobart friend had sent four fowls to me on the day of sailing, requesting me to take them to Macquarie island. They were housed in one of the meteorological screens, but on the third day from Hobart a heavy sea broke on board, upset the temporary fowl-house and crushed the rooster's head. The three hens were landed safely and appeared to be thoroughly reconciled to their strange surroundings, though the presence of so many large birds soaring about overhead had a terrifying effect on them for several days. They did not appear to pick up much food amongst the gra.s.s, but scratched away industriously all the same. I must say that they were very friendly and gave the place quite a homely aspect.
One of them was christened ”Ma” on account of her maternal and somewhat fussy disposition.
On the first Sunday in the new year all except myself went along the coast towards West Point. The party reported immense numbers of sea-elephants, especially young ones. They also saw many wekas and three ducks, shooting nine of the former for the kitchen.
The wekas or Maori hens are small, flightless birds, averaging when full grown about two and three-quarter pounds. They were introduced twenty-five years ago by Mr. Elder, of New Zealand, a former lessee of the island, and multiplied so fast that they are now very numerous. They live among the tussocks, and subsist for the most part upon the larvae of the kelp-fly, small fish and other marine life which they catch under the stones along the rocky sh.o.r.es at low tide. They are exceedingly inquisitive and pugnacious and may easily be caught by hand.
Usually, when disturbed, they will pop under a rock, and on being seized immediately commence to squeak. This is sufficient to bring every weka within a quarter of a mile hurrying to the spot, and, in a few minutes, heads may be seen poking out of the gra.s.s in every direction. The man holding the bird then crouches down, preferably just on the border of the tussock, holding the protesting bird in one hand. Soon there will be a rustle, then a rush, and another furious weka will attack the decoy.
The newcomer is grabbed and, if the birds are plentiful, five or six of them may be taken in one spot.
Their call is peculiarly plaintive and wild and may be heard night and day. Though we saw and caught innumerable young ones of all sizes, we were never able to find the nests of these Maori hens.
A depot of stores had been laid by the 'Aurora' at Caroline Cove, twenty miles from the Shack at the south end of the island, and it was deemed advisable to lay several more intermediate food-depots along the east coast.