December 11 witnessed the extraordinary sight of our company standing bareheaded on deck whilst Captain Scott performed Divine Service.  Two hymns were sung, which broke strangely the great white silence.  The weather was against us this day in that we had snow, thaw, and actually rain, but we could not complain on the score of weather conditions generally.  Practically all the ship’s company exercised on the floes while we remained fast frozen.  Next day there was some slight loosening of the pack and we tried sailing through it and managed half a degree southward in the forty-eight hours.  We got along a few miles here and there, but when ice conditions continued favourable for making any serious advance it was better to light up and push our way onward with all the power we could command.  We got some heavy bumps on the 13th December and as this hammering was not doing the ship much good, since I was unable to make southing then at a greater rate than one mile an hour, we let fires right out and prepared, as Captain Scott said, “To wait till the clouds roll by.”  For the next few days there was not much doing nor did we experience such pleasant weather.

Constant visits were made to the crow’s-nest in search of a way through.  December 16 and 17 were two very gray days with fresh wind, snow, and some sleet.  Affectionate memories of Captain Colbeck and the little relief ship, “Morning,” came back when the wind soughed and whistled through the rigging:  This sound is most uncanny and the ice always seemed to exaggerate any noise.

I hated the overcast days in the pack.  It was bitterly cold in the crow’s-nest however much one put on then, and water skies often turned out to be nimbus clouds after we had laboured and cannoned towards them.  The light, too, tired and strained one’s eyes far more than on clear days.

When two hundred miles into the pack the ice varied surprisingly.  We would be passing through ice a few inches thick and then suddenly great floes four feet above the water and twelve to fifteen feet deep would be encountered.  December 18 saw us steaming through tremendous leads of open water.  A very funny occurrence was witnessed in the evening when the wash of the ship turned a floe over under water and on its floating back a fish was left stranded.  It was a funny little creature, nine inches in length, a species of notathenia.  Several snow petrels and a skua-gull made attempts to secure the fish, but the afterguard kept up such a chorus of cheers, hoots and howls that the birds were scared away till one of us secured the fish from the floe.

Early on the 19th we passed close to a large iceberg which had a shelving beach like an island.  We began to make better progress to the south-westward and worked into a series of open leads.  We came across our first emperor penguin, a young one, and two sea-leopards, besides crab-eater seals, many penguins, some giant petrels, and a Wilson petrel.  That afternoon tremendous pieces of ice were passed; they were absolutely solid and regular floes, being ten to twelve feet above water and, as far as one could judge, about 50 feet below.  The water here was beautifully clear.