“June 20.—­During this last blow with its accompanying drift-snow there has been much leakage of current from the aerial during the sending of reports.  This is apparently due to induction caused by the snow accumulating on the insulators aloft, and thus rendering them useless, and probably to increased inductive force of the current in a body of snowdrift.  Hooke appears to be somewhat downhearted over it, and, after discussing the matter, gave me a written report on the non-success (up to the present time) of his endeavours to establish communication.  He thinks that the proximity of the Magnetic Pole and Aurora Australis might affect things.  The radiation is good and sufficient for normal conditions.  His suggestion to lead the down lead wires out to the ahead and astern would increase scope, but I cannot countenance it owing to unsettled state of ice and our too lofty poles.

“June 21.—­Blowing gale from south-west throughout day, but for short spell of westerly breeze about 5 p.m.  Light drift at frequent intervals, very hazy, and consequently no land in sight during short twilight.  Very hard up for mitts and clothing.  What little we have on board I have put to one side for the people at the hut.  Have given Thompson instructions to turn crew to making pair mitts and helmet out of Jaeger fleece for all hands forward.  With strict economy we should make things spin out; cannot help worrying over our people at the hut.  Although worrying does no good, one cannot do otherwise in this present impotent state. 11 p.m.—­Wind howling and whistling through rigging.  Outside, in glare of moon, flying drift and expanse of ice-field.  Desolation!

“June 22.—­To-day the sun has reached the limit of his northern declination and now he will start to come south.  Observed this day as holiday, and in the evening had hands aft to drink to the health of the King and the Expedition.  All hands are happy, but miss the others at Cape Evans.  I pray to God we may soon be clear of this prison and in a position to help them.  We can live now for sunlight and activity.

“July 1.—­The 1st of July!  Thank God.  The days pass quickly.  Through all my waking hours one long thought of the people at Cape Evans, but one must appear to be happy and take interest in the small happenings of shipboard.

“July 3.—­Rather hazy with very little light.  Moderate west-north-west to south-west winds until noon, when wind veered to south and freshened.  No apparent change in ship’s position; the berg is on the same bearing (1 point on the port quarter) and apparently the same distance off.  Mount Melbourne was hidden behind a bank of clouds.  This is our only landmark now, as Franklin Island is towered in perpetual gloom.  Although we have had the berg in sight during all the time of our drift from the entrance to McMurdo Sound, we have not yet seen it in a favourable light, and, were it not for its movement, we might mistake it for a tabular island.  It will be interesting to view our companion in the returning light—­unless we are too close to it!