And so it was with some anticipation that on Monday morning, October 24, we could smell the land—­New Zealand, that home of so many Antarctic expeditions, where we knew that we should be welcomed.  Scott’s Discovery, Shackleton’s Nimrod, and now again Scott’s Terra Nova have all in turn been berthed at the same quay in Lyttelton, for aught I know at the same No. 5 Shed, into which they have spilled out their holds, and from which they have been restowed with the addition of all that New Zealand, scorning payment, could give.  And from there they have sailed, and thither their relief ships have returned year after year.  Scott’s words of the Discovery apply just as much to the Terra Nova.  Not only did New Zealand do all in her power to help the expedition in an official capacity, but the New Zealanders welcomed both officers and men with open arms, and “gave them to understand that although already separated by many thousands of miles from their native land, here in this new land they would find a second home, and those who would equally think of them in their absence, and welcome them on their return.”

But we had to sail round the southern coast of New Zealand and northwards up the eastern coast before we could arrive at our last port of call.  The wind went ahead, and it was not until the morning of October 28 that we sailed through Lyttelton Heads.  The word had gone forth that we should sail away on November 27, and there was much to be done in the brief month that lay ahead.

There followed four weeks of strenuous work into which was sandwiched a considerable amount of play.  The ship was unloaded, when, as usual, men and officers acted alike as stevedores, and she was docked, that an examination for the source of the leak might be made by Mr. H. J. Miller of Lyttelton, who has performed a like service for more than one Antarctic ship.  But the different layers of sheathing protecting a ship which is destined to fight against ice are so complicated that it is a very difficult matter to find the origin of a leak.  All that can be said with any certainty is that the point where the water appears inside the skin of the ship is almost certainly not the locality in which it has penetrated the outside sheathing.  “Our good friend Miller,” wrote Scott, “attacked the leak and traced it to the stern.  We found the false stern split, and in one case a hole bored for a long-stern through-bolt which was much too large for the bolt....  The ship still leaks but the water can now be kept under with the hand pump by two daily efforts of a quarter of an hour to twenty minutes.”  This in Lyttelton; but in a not far distant future every pump was choked, and we were baling with three buckets, literally for our lives.

Bowers’ feat of sorting and restowing not only the stores we had but the cheese, butter, tinned foods, bacon, hams and numerous other products which are grown in New Zealand, and which any expedition leaving that country should always buy there in preference to carrying them through the tropics, was a masterstroke of clear-headedness and organization.  These stores were all relisted before stowing and the green-banded or Northern Party and red-banded or Main Party stores were not only easily distinguishable, but also stowed in such a way that they were forthcoming without difficulty at the right time and in their due order.