The early part of the voyage down to Elephant Island in the Southern Sky was uneventful.  At noon on Tuesday, May 23, we were at sea and steaming at ten knots on a south-westerly course.  We made good progress, but the temperature fell very low, and the signs gave me some cause for anxiety as to the probability of encountering ice.  On the third night out the sea seemed to grow silent.  I looked over the side and saw a thin film of ice.  The sea was freezing around us and the ice gradually grew thicker, reducing our speed to about five knots.  Then lumps of old pack began to appear among the new ice.  I realized that an advance through pack-ice was out of the question.  The ‘Southern Sky’ was a steel-built steamer, and her structure, while strong to resist the waves, would not endure the blows of masses of ice.  So I took the ship north, and at daylight on Friday we got clear of the pancake-ice.  We skirted westward, awaiting favourable conditions.  The morning of the 28th was dull and overcast, with little wind.  Again the ship’s head was turned to the south-west, but at 3 p.m. a definite line of pack showed up on the horizon.  We were about 70 miles from Elephant Island, but there was no possibility of taking the steamer through the ice that barred the way.  North-west again we turned.  We were directly north of the island on the following day, and I made another move south.  Heavy pack formed an impenetrable barrier.

To admit failure at this stage was hard, but the facts had to be faced.  The ‘Southern Sky’ could not enter ice of even moderate thickness.  The season was late, and we could not be sure that the ice would open for many months, though my opinion was that the pack would not become fast in that quarter even in the winter, owing to the strong winds and currents.  The ‘Southern Sky’ could carry coal for ten days only, and we had been out six days.  We were 500 miles from the Falkland Islands and about 600 miles from South Georgia.  So I determined that, since we could not wait about for an opening, I would proceed to the Falklands, get a more suitable vessel either locally or from England, and make a second attempt to reach Elephant Island from that point.

We encountered very bad weather on the way up, but in the early afternoon of May 31 we arrived at Port Stanley, where the cable provided a link with the outer world.  The harbour-master came out to meet us, and after we had dropped anchor I went ashore and met the Governor, Mr. Douglas Young.  He offered me his assistance at once.  He telephoned to Mr. Harding, the manager of the Falkland Islands station, and I learned, to my keen regret, that no ship of the type required was available at the islands.  That evening I cabled to London a message to His Majesty the King, the first account of the loss of the ‘Endurance’ and the subsequent adventures of the Expedition.  The next day I received the following message from the King: