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Satellite image of Ross Island (L) showing the two hut locations we visited. |
Having passed Cape Royds on Ross Island with a promise to return, we headed to Cape Evans where an expedition hut from the early 1900s still stands. This is the site from which Scott and a small party of his expedition team set out for the South Pole, tragically never to return. It was a dark and bleak promontory. Towering behind those two capes, is the infamous Mt Erebus. It was to loom quietly in the background for a number of days. Awesome.
We loaded into zodiacs and headed for the shore where we disgorged onto an ice-encrusted black sand beach at Cape Evans. We were there to visit Scott's hut.
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Fascinating to read the labels on the boxes of stores. We even found a chest of sea-biscuits |
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Top R strips of seal blubber, Bottom R a sleeping bags made from reindeer hide, Bottom L Scott's 'office' complete with penguin ready for dissection. |
It was an Aladdin's cave that swept you back to a bitter difficult time. Here, and at other huts, there were piles of blubber dating from the early 1900s completely preserved in the intense dry cold. They used the blubber for various things including cooking and light. It had been a fascinating morning which held us engaged for hours - that meant a late lunch.
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Shackleton's hut - a pale structure centre image. To right of the hut was the protected penguin colony. |
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It was a glorious albeit icy scene with a ghostly Mt Erebus in the background. |
Later that day, we returned to Cape Royds in order to visit Shackleton’s hut. A landing was possible, but it promised to be rather rough, followed by an even rougher climb over a rocky ridge to reach the hut. Access to the hut was limited because it was adjacent to a protected penguin colony. So to reach it people had a long clamber over the rocky hill to the left of the hut. Although I was very interested in Shackleton, I didn’t go ashore because the climb to the hut looked a bit too dangerous for me. As it turns out, it was very precarious. A number of passengers sustained minor injuries, and one poor guy fell down the rocky hill amongst the rocks and had to be rescued by our wonderful Russian sailors. Lindsay came back to the ship rather shattered after having raced ahead of the group to get help and in the process, strained his already compromised rib muscles - and that’s another story. From all reports, it was a pretty rough trek to the hut, so I was glad I hadn't gone! By the time everyone was back on board, it was after 9pm so we ended up having a late dinner that night. Such is the nature of these kinds of expeditions - weather, sea and terrain determine the pace.
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