returned home, and I considered it my duty to inform him immediately of my resolve.  The way in which he received it made me feel safe in my choice of him.  I saw that in him I had found not only a capable and trustworthy man, but a good comrade as well; and this was a point of the highest importance.  If the relations between the chief and the second in command are good, much unpleasantness and many unnecessary worries can be avoided.  Besides which, a good understanding in this quarter gives an example to the whole ship.  It was a great relief to me when Captain Nilsen came home in January, 1910, and was able to help —­ which he did with a good will, a capability, and a reliability that I have no words to commend.

The following was the plan of the Fram’s southern voyage:  Departure from Norway at latest before the middle of August.  Madeira was to be the first and only place of call.  From there a course was to be made on the best route for a sailing-ship —­ for the Fram cannot be regarded as anything else —­ southward through the Atlantic, and then to the east, passing to the south of the Cape of Good Hope and Australia, and finally pushing through the pack and into Ross Sea about New Year, 1911.

As a base of operations I had chosen the most southerly point we could reach with the vessel —­ the Bay of Whales in the great Antarctic Barrier.  We hoped to arrive here about January 15.  After having landed the selected shore party —­ about ten men —­ with materials for a house, equipment, and provisions for two years, the Fram was to go out again and up to Buenos Aires, in order to carry out from there an oceanographical voyage across the Atlantic to the coast of Africa and back.  In October she was to return to the Bay of Whales and take off the shore party.  So much, but no more, could be settled beforehand.  The further progress of the expedition could only be determined later, when the work in the South was finished.

My knowledge of the Ross Barrier was due to descriptions alone; but I had so carefully studied all the literature that treats of these regions, that, on first encountering this mighty mass of ice, I felt as if I had known it for many years.

After thorough consideration, I fixed upon the Bay of Whales as a winter station, for several reasons.  In the first place, because we could there go farther south in the ship than at any other point —­ a whole degree farther south than Scott could hope to get in McMurdo Sound, where he was to have his station.  And this would be of very great importance in the subsequent sledge journey toward the Pole.  Another great advantage was that we came right on to our field of work, and could see from our hut door the conditions and surface we should have to deal with.  Besides this, I was justified in supposing that the surface southward from this part of the Barrier would be considerably better, and offer fewer difficulties than the piled-up ice along the land.  In addition, animal life in the Bay of Whales was, according to the descriptions, extraordinarily rich, and offered all the fresh meat we required in the form of seals, penguins, etc.