Once they were settled in their hut, the health of the party was quite good.  Of course, they were all a bit weak, some were light-headed, all were frost-bitten, and others, later, had attacks of heart failure.  Blackborrow, whose toes were so badly frost-bitten in the boats, had to have all five amputated while on the island.  With insufficient instruments and no proper means of sterilizing them, the operation, carried out as it was in a dark, grimy hut, with only a blubber-stove to keep up the temperature and with an outside temperature well below freezing, speaks volumes for the skill and initiative of the surgeons.  I am glad to be able to say that the operation was very successful, and after a little treatment ashore, very kindly given by the Chilian doctors at Punta Arenas, he has now completely recovered and walks with only a slight limp.  Hudson, who developed bronchitis and hip disease, was practically well again when the party was rescued.  All trace of the severe frost-bites suffered in the boat journey had disappeared, though traces of recent superficial ones remained on some.  All were naturally weak when rescued, owing to having been on such scanty rations for so long, but all were alive and very cheerful, thanks to Frank Wild.

August 30, 1916, is described in their diaries as a “day of wonders.”  Food was very short, only two days’ seal and penguin meat being left, and no prospect of any more arriving.  The whole party had been collecting limpets and seaweed to eat with the stewed seal bones.  Lunch was being served by Wild, Hurley and Marston waiting outside to take a last long look at the direction from which they expected the ship to arrive.  From a fortnight after I had left, Wild would roll up his sleeping-bag each day with the remark, “Get your things ready, boys, the Boss may come to-day.”  And sure enough, one day the mist opened and revealed the ship for which they had been waiting and longing and hoping for over four months.  “Marston was the first to notice it, and immediately yelled out ‘Ship O!’ The inmates of the hut mistook it for a call of ‘Lunch O!’ so took no notice at first.  Soon, however, we heard him pattering along the snow as fast as he could run, and in a gasping, anxious voice, hoarse with excitement, he shouted, ‘Wild, there’s a ship!  Hadn’t we better light a flare?’ We all made one dive for our narrow door.  Those who could not get through tore down the canvas walls in their hurry and excitement.  The hoosh-pot with our precious limpets and seaweed was kicked over in the rush.  There, just rounding the island which had previously hidden her from our sight, we saw a little ship flying the Chilian flag.

“We tried to cheer, but excitement had gripped our vocal chords.  Macklin had made a rush for the flagstaff, previously placed in the most conspicuous position on the ice-slope.  The running-gear would not work, and the flag was frozen into a solid, compact mass so he tied his jersey to the top of the pole for a signal.