The seamen were excellent, and Captain Scott seemed delighted with the crowd.  He and Wilson were very loyal to the old “Discovery” men we had with us and Scott was impressed with my man, Cheetham, the Merchant Service boatswain, and could not quite make out how “Alf,” as the sailors called him, got so much out of the hands—­this little squeaky-voiced man—­I think we hit on Utopian conditions for working the ship.  There were no wasters, and our seamen were the pick of the British Navy and Mercantile Marine.  Most of the Naval men were intelligent petty officers and were as fully alive as the merchantmen to “Alf’s” windjammer knowledge.  Cheetham was quite a character, and besides being immensely popular and loyal he was a tough, humorous little soul who had made more Antarctic voyages than any man on board.

The seamen and stokers willingly gave up the best part of the crew space in order to allow sheltered pony stables to be built in the forecastle; it would have fared badly with the poor creatures had we kept them out on deck on the southward voyage.

A visit to the Campbell Islands was projected, but abandoned on account of the ship being unable to lay her course due to strong head winds on December 1.  We therefore shaped to cross the Antarctic Circle in 178 degrees W. and got a good run of nearly 200 miles in, but the wind rose that afternoon and a gale commenced at a time when we least could afford to face bad weather in our deeply-laden conditions.  By 6 p.m.  I had to heave the ship to under lower topsails and fore topmast staysail.  Engines were kept going at slow speed to keep the ship under control, but when night fell the prospect was gloomy enough.  Captain Scott had consented to my taking far more on board than the ship was ever meant to carry, and we could not expect to accomplish our end without running certain risks.  To sacrifice coal meant curtailing the Antarctic cruising programme, but as the weather grew worse we had to consider throwing coal overboard to lighten the vessel.  Quite apart from this, the huge waves which washed over the ship swamped everything and increased the deck weights considerably.  Ten tons of coal were thrown over to prevent them from taking charge and breaking petrol cases adrift.  In spite of a liberal use of oil to keep heavy water from breaking over, the decks were continually swept by the seas and the rolling was so terrific that the poor dogs were almost hanging by their chains.  Meares and Dimitri, helped by the watch, tended them unceasingly, but in spite of their combined efforts one dog was washed overboard after being literally drowned on the upper deck.  One pony died that night, Oates and Atkinson standing by it and trying their utmost to keep the wretched beast on its feet.  A second animal succumbed later, and poor Oates had a most trying time in caring for his charges and rendering what help he could to ameliorate their condition.  Those of his ship-mates who saw him in this gale will