“With thanks for the time we have spent together, and in the hope that when we meet again we shall have reached our respective goals,

“I am,

“Yours sincerely,

“Roald Amundsen.”

When Sir James Ross was in these waters for the first time, in 1842, he marked “Appearance of land” in long. 160deg.  W., and lat. about 78deg.  S. Afterwards, in 1902, Captain Scott named this land “King Edward VII.  Land.”  One of the Terra Nova’s objects was to explore this land; but when we met the ship on February 4, they told us on board that on account of the ice conditions they had not been able to land.  As no one had ever been ashore there, I thought it might be interesting to go and see what it looked like.  Consequently our course was laid north-eastward along the Barrier.  During the night a thick sea-fog came on, and it was only now and then that we could see the Barrier over our heads.  All of a sudden we were close upon a lofty iceberg, so that we had to put the helm hard over to go clear.  The Fram steers splendidly, however, when she is in proper trim, and turns as if on a pivot; besides which, it was calm.

As the day advanced, the weather cleared more and more, and by noon it was perfectly clear.  The sight that then met us was the lofty Barrier to starboard, and elsewhere all round about some fifty icebergs, great and small.  The Barrier rose from about 100 feet at its edge to something like 1,200 feet.

We followed the Barrier for some distance, but in the neighbourhood of Cape Colbeck we met the drift-ice, and as I had no wish to come between this and the Barrier, we stood out in a north-westerly direction.  There is, besides, the disadvantage about a propeller like ours, that it is apt to wear out the brasses, so that these have to be renewed from time to time.  It was imperative that this should be done before we came into the pack-ice, and the sooner the better.  When, therefore, we had gone along the Barrier for about a day and a half without seeing any bare land, we set our course north-west in open water, and after we had come some way out we got a slant of easterly wind, so that the sails could be set.  We saw the snow-covered land and the glare above it all night.

The date had not yet been changed, but as this had to be done, it was changed on February 15.[2]

At noon on the 16th the propeller was lifted, and by the evening of the 17th the job was done —­ a record in spite of the temperature.  Capital fellows to work, our engineers.

On the night of the 15th we saw the midnight sun unfortunately for the last time.  The same night something dark was sighted on the port bow; in that light it looked very like an islet.  The sounding apparatus was got ready, and we who were on watch of course saw ourselves in our minds as great discoverers.  I was already wondering what would be the most appropriate name to give it, but, alas! the “discovery” became clearer and the name —­ well, it was a rather prosaic one:  “Dead Whale Islet”; for it turned out to be a huge inflated whale, that was drifting, covered with birds.