Our experiences on the ‘James Caird’ had been similar, although we had not been able to keep up to windward as well as the ‘Dudley Docker’ had done.  This was fortunate as events proved, for the ‘James Caird’ and ‘Stancomb Wills’ went to leeward of the big bight the ‘Dudley Docker’ entered and from which she had to turn out with the sea astern.  We thus avoided the risk of having the ‘Stancomb Wills’ swamped in the following sea.  The weather was very thick in the morning.  Indeed at 7 a.m. we were right under the cliffs, which plunged sheer into the sea, before we saw them.  We followed the coast towards the north, and ever the precipitous cliffs and glacier-faces presented themselves to our searching eyes.  The sea broke heavily against these walls and a landing would have been impossible under any conditions.  We picked up pieces of ice and sucked them eagerly.  At 9 a.m. at the north-west end of the island we saw a narrow beach at the foot of the cliffs.  Outside lay a fringe of rocks heavily beaten by the surf but with a narrow channel showing as a break in the foaming water.  I decided that we must face the hazards of this unattractive landing-place.  Two days and nights without drink or hot food had played havoc with most of the men, and we could not assume that any safer haven lay within our reach.  The ‘Stancomb Wills’ was the lighter and handier boat—­and I called her alongside with the intention of taking her through the gap first and ascertaining the possibilities of a landing before the ‘James Caird’ made the venture.  I was just climbing into the ‘Stancomb Wills’ when I saw the ‘Dudley Docker’ coming up astern under sail.  The sight took a great load off my mind.

Rowing carefully and avoiding the blind rollers which showed where sunken rocks lay, we brought the ‘Stancomb Wills’ towards the opening in the reef.  Then, with a few strong strokes we shot through on the top of a swell and ran the boat on to a stony beach.  The next swell lifted her a little farther.  This was the first landing ever made on Elephant Island, and a thought came to me that the honour should belong to the youngest member of the Expedition, so I told Blackborrow to jump over.  He seemed to be in a state almost of coma, and in order to avoid delay I helped him, perhaps a little roughly, over the side of the boat.  He promptly sat down in the surf and did not move.  Then I suddenly realized what I had forgotten, that both his feet were frost-bitten badly.  Some of us jumped over and pulled him into a dry place.  It was a rather rough experience for Blackborrow, but, anyhow, he is now able to say that he was the first man to sit on Elephant Island.  Possibly at the time he would have been willing to forgo any distinction of the kind.  We landed the cook with his blubber-stove, a supply of fuel and some packets of dried milk, and also several of the men.  Then the rest of us pulled out again to pilot the other boats through the channel.