“We got through the forties with splendid speed and were just over the fifties when one of those tremendous gales got us.  Our Lat. was about 52 deg.  S., a part of the world absolutely unfrequented by shipping of any sort, and as we had already been blown off Campbell Island we had nothing but a clear sweep to Cape Horn to leeward.  One realized then how in the Nimrod—­in spite of the weather—­they always had the security of a big steamer to look to if things came to the worst.  We were indeed alone, by many hundreds of miles, and never having felt anxious about a ship before, the old whaler was to give me a new experience.

“In the afternoon of the beginning of the gale I helped make fast the T.G. sails, upper topsails and foresail, and was horrified on arrival on deck to find that the heavy water we continued to ship, was starting the coal bags floating in places.  These, acting as battering-rams, tore adrift some of my carefully stowed petrol cases and endangered the lot.  I had started to make sail fast at 3 P.M. and it was 9.30 P.M. when I had finished putting on additional lashings to everything I could.  So rapidly did the sea get up that one was continually afloat and swimming about.  I turned in for 2 hours and lay awake hearing the crash of the seas and thinking how long those cases would stand it, till my watch came at midnight as a relief.  We were under 2 lower topsails and hove to, the engines going dead slow to assist keeping head to wind.  At another time I should have been easy in my mind; now the water that came aboard was simply fearful, and the wrenching on the old ship was enough to worry any sailor called upon to fill his decks with garbage fore and aft.  Still ‘Risk nothing and do nothing,’ if funds could not supply another ship, we simply had to overload the one we had, or suffer worse things down south.  The watch was eventful as the shaking up got the fine coal into the bilges, and this mixing with the oil from the engines formed balls of coal and grease which, ordinarily, went up the pumps easily; now however with the great strains, and hundreds of tons on deck, as she continually filled, the water started to come in too fast for the half-clogged pumps to cope with.  An alternative was offered to me in going faster so as to shake up the big pump on the main engines, and this I did—­in spite of myself—­and in defiance of the first principles of seamanship.  Of course, we shipped water more and more, and only to save a clean breach of the decks did I slow down again and let the water gain.  My next card was to get the watch on the hand-pumps as well, and these were choked, too, or nearly so.