“This morning, our last on the ship, the weather was clear, with a gentle south-south-easterly to south-south-westerly breeze.  From the crow’s-nest there was no sign of land of any sort.  The pressure was increasing steadily, and the passing hours brought no relief or respite for the ship.  The attack of the ice reached its climax at 4 p.m.  The ship was hove stern up by the pressure, and the driving floe, moving laterally across the stern, split the rudder and tore out the rudder-post and stern-post.  Then, while we watched, the ice loosened and the ‘Endurance’ sank a little.  The decks were breaking upwards and the water was pouring in below.  Again the pressure began, and at 5 p.m.  I ordered all hands on to the ice.  The twisting, grinding floes were working their will at last on the ship.  It was a sickening sensation to feel the decks breaking up under one’s feet, the great beams bending and then snapping with a noise like heavy gunfire.  The water was overmastering the pumps, and to avoid an explosion when it reached the boilers I had to give orders for the fires to be drawn and the steam let down.  The plans for abandoning the ship in case of emergency had been made well in advance, and men and dogs descended to the floe and made their way to the comparative safety of an unbroken portion of the floe without a hitch.  Just before leaving, I looked down the engine-room skylight as I stood on the quivering deck, and saw the engines dropping sideways as the stays and bed-plates gave way.  I cannot describe the impression of relentless destruction that was forced upon me as I looked down and around.  The floes, with the force of millions of tons of moving ice behind them, were simply annihilating the ship.”

Essential supplies had been placed on the floe about 100 yds. from the ship, and there we set about making a camp for the night.  But about 7 p.m., after the tents were up, the ice we were occupying became involved in the pressure and started to split and smash beneath our feet.  I had the camp moved to a bigger floe about 200 yds. away, just beyond the bow of the ship.  Boats, stores, and camp equipment had to be conveyed across a working pressure-ridge.  The movement of the ice was so slow that it did not interfere much with our short trek, but the weight of the ridge had caused the floes to sink on either side and there were pools of water there.  A pioneer party with picks and shovels had to build a snow-causeway before we could get all our possessions across.  By 8 p.m. the camp had been pitched again.  We had two pole-tents and three hoop-tents.  I took charge of the small pole-tent, No. 1, with Hudson, Hurley, and James as companions; Wild had the small hoop-tent, No. 2, with Wordie, McNeish, and McIlroy.  These hoop-tents are very easily shifted and set up.  The eight forward hands had the large hoop-tent, No. 3; Crean had charge of No. 4 hoop-tent with Hussey, Marston, and Cheetham; and Worsley had the other pole-tent, No. 5, with Greenstreet, Lees, Clark, Kerr, Rickenson, Macklin, and Blackborrow, the last named being the youngest of the forward hands.