On October 24, 1911, the advance guard of the Southern Party, consisting of Day, Lashly, Hooper, and myself, left Cape Evans with two motor sledges as planned.  We had with us three tons of stores, pony food, and petrol, carried on five 12 ft. sledges, and our own tent, etc., on a smaller sledge.  The object of sending forward such a weight of stores was to save the ponies’ legs over the variable sea ice, which was in some places hummocky and in others too slippery to stand on.  Also the first thirty miles of Barrier was known to be bad travelling and likely to tire the ponies unnecessarily unless they marched light, so here again it was desirable to employ the motors for a heavy drag.

We had fine weather when at 10.30 a.m. we started off, with the usual concourse of well-wishers, and after one or two stops and sniffs we really got under way, and worked our loads clear of the Cape on to the smoother stretch of sea ice, which improved steadily as we proceeded.  Hooper accompanied Lashly’s car and I worked with Day.

A long shaft protruded 3 ft. clear each end of the motors.  To the foremost end we attached the steering rope, just a set of man-harness with a long trace, and to the after end of the shaft we made fast the towing lanyard or span according to whether we hauled sledges abreast or in single line.  Many doubts were expressed as to the use of the despised motors—­but we heeded not the gibes of our friends who came out to speed us on our way.  They knew we were doing our best to make the motors successful, and their expressed sneers covered their sincere wishes that we should manage to get our loads well on to the Barrier.

We made a mile an hour speed to begin with and stopped at Razorback Island after 3 1/2 miles.

We had lunch at Razorback, and after that we “lumped,” man-hauled, and persuaded the two motors and three tons of food and stores another mile onward.  The trouble was not on account of the motors failing, but because of a smooth, blue ice surface.  We camped at 10 p.m. and all slept the sleep of tired men.  October 25 was ushered in with a hard wind, and it appeared in the morning as if our cars were not going to start.  We had breakfast at 8 a.m. and got started on both motors at 10.45, but soon found that we were unable to move the full loads owing to the blue ice surface, so took to relaying.  We advanced under three miles after ten hours’ distracting work—­mostly pulling the sledges ourselves, jerking, heaving, straining, and cursing—­it was tug-of-war work and should have broken our hearts, but in spite of our adversity we all ended up smiling and camped close on 9 p.m.

The day turned out beautifully fine and calm, but the hard ice was absolutely spoiling the rollers of both cars.

Whilst we were preparing for bed, Simpson and Gran passed our tent and called on us.  They were bound for Hut Point.  I told Simpson our troubles about the surface, and he promised to telephone from Hut Point to Captain Scott.