Under a dull, overcast sky I returned to camp and examined our situation.  The floe occupied by the camp was still subject to pressure, and I thought it wise to move to a larger and apparently stronger floe about 200 yds. away, off the starboard bow of the ship.  This camp was to become known as Dump Camp, owing to the amount of stuff that was thrown away there.  We could not afford to carry unnecessary gear, and a drastic sorting of equipment took place.  I decided to issue a complete new set of Burberrys and underclothing to each man, and also a supply of new socks.  The camp was transferred to the larger floe quickly, and I began there to direct the preparations for the long journey across the floes to Paulet Island or Snow Hill.

Hurley meanwhile had rigged his kinematograph-camera and was getting pictures of the ‘Endurance’ in her death-throes.  While he was engaged thus, the ice, driving against the standing rigging and the fore-, main-and mizzen-masts, snapped the shrouds.  The foretop and topgallant-mast came down with a run and hung in wreckage on the fore-mast, with the fore-yard vertical.  The main-mast followed immediately, snapping off about 10 ft. above the main deck.  The crow’s-nest fell within 10 ft. of where Hurley stood turning the handle of his camera, but he did not stop the machine, and so secured a unique, though sad, picture.

The issue of clothing was quickly accomplished.  Sleeping-bags were required also.  We had eighteen fur bags, and it was necessary, therefore, to issue ten of the Jaeger woollen bags in order to provide for the twenty-eight men of the party.  The woollen bags were lighter and less warm than the reindeer bags, and so each man who received one of them was allowed also a reindeer-skin to lie upon.  It seemed fair to distribute the fur bags by lot, but some of us older hands did not join in the lottery.  We thought we could do quite as well with the Jaegers as with the furs.  With quick dispatch the clothing was apportioned, and then we turned one of the boats on its side and supported it with two broken oars to make a lee for the galley.  The cook got the blubber-stove going, and a little later, when I was sitting round the corner of the stove, I heard one man say, “Cook, I like my tea strong.”  Another joined in, “Cook, I like mine weak.”  It was pleasant to know that their minds were untroubled, but I thought the time opportune to mention that the tea would be the same for all hands and that we would be fortunate if two months later we had any tea at all.  It occurred to me at the time that the incident had psychological interest.  Here were men, their home crushed, the camp pitched on the unstable floes, and their chance of reaching safety apparently remote, calmly attending to the details of existence and giving their attention to such trifles as the strength of a brew of tea.

During the afternoon the work continued.  Every now and then we heard a noise like heavy guns or distant thunder, caused by the floes grinding together.