The reverse process takes place from August 21 onwards.  On this date the sun just peeped above the sea to the north of our hut.  The next day he rose a little higher and longer, and in a few weeks he was rising well in the east and sinking behind the Western Mountains.  But he did not stop there.  Soon he was rising in the S.E. until in the latter days of September he never rose, for he never set; but circled round us by day and night.  On Midsummer Day (December 21) at the South Pole the sun circles round for twenty-four hours without changing his altitude for one minute of a degree, but elsewhere he is always rising in the sky until mid-day in the north and falling from that time until midnight in the south.

Often, far too often, it was blizzing, and it was impossible to go out except into the camp to take the observations, to care for the dogs, to get ice for water or to bring in stores.  Even a short excursion of a few yards had to be made with great care under such circumstances, and certainly no one went outside more than was necessary, if only because one was obliged to dig the accumulated drift from the door before it was possible to proceed.  Blizzard or no blizzard, most men were back in the hut soon after four, and from then until 6.30 worked steadily at their jobs.  As supper time approached some kindly-disposed person would sit down and play on the Broadwood pianola which was one of our blessings, and so it was that we came to supper with good tempers as well as keen appetites.

Soup, in which the flavour of tomatoes occurred all too frequently, followed by seal or penguin, and twice a week by New Zealand mutton, with tinned vegetables, formed the basis of our meal, and this was followed by a pudding.  We drank lime juice and water which sometimes included a suspicious penguin flavour derived from the ice slopes from which our water was quarried.

During our passage out to New Zealand in the ship (or as Meares always insisted on calling her, the steamer) it was our pleasant custom to have a glass of port or a liqueur after dinner.  Alas, we had this no longer:  after leaving New Zealand space allowed of little wine being carried in the Terra Nova, even if the general medical opinion of the expedition had not considered its presence undesirable.  We had, however, a few cases for special festivals, as well as some excellent liqueur brandy which was carried as medical comforts on our sledge journeys.  Any officer who allowed the distribution of this luxury on nearing the end of a journey became extremely popular.

Lack of wine probably led to the suspension of a custom which had prevailed on the Terra Nova, namely, the drinking of the old toast of Saturday night, “Sweethearts and wives; may our sweethearts become our wives, and our wives remain our sweethearts,” and that more appropriate (in our case) toast of Sunday, namely, “absent friends.”  We had but few married officers, though I must say most survivors of the expedition hurried to remedy this single state of affairs when they returned to civilization.  Only two of them are unmarried now.  Most of them will probably make a success of it, for the good Arctic explorer has most of the defects and qualities of a good husband.