Francis Davies - With Scott Before The Mast

To prepare for heaving up the anchor, the gypsy – the links of which fitted in snugs on the sprocket wheels on the winch and windless – was passed over the two sprockets and the two ends brought together and connected by riveting two half links to form an endless chain. All was then ready for heaving in the cable. I took my place at the windless ready to tend the brake and an engineer stood by the steam valve to work the winch. From my position I could neither see the officer giving orders, or the engineer, nor could the engineer see the officer. At the order ‘heave in’, I eased the brake and the engineer turned on the steam. With a jig and jerk the strain came on the gypsy and slowly the cable started to come in. In a few seconds the gypsy would have stretched to such an extent it flapped up and down in the galley, sending the cooking utensils flying in every direction to the accompaniment of two beautiful flows of nautical language from the chef and his mate.

There was such an awful din it was impossible to hear any orders passed, these were conveyed in a sort of ‘tic-tac’ code by seamen posted at strategic points. Often it would be necessary to stop and shorten the gypsy by cutting off two or three links and reconnecting with half links. Heath Robinson had nothing on this, but all hands thought it a wonderful idea as it saved them hours of ‘roundey-come-roundey’ on the capstan.

The next in order of seniority and perhaps most important of all, was the hand pump. This functioned on deck between the main rigging. It was a heavy cast iron affair and had four vertical plungers and was really two independent pumps for there were two separate suction pipes from the bilges. The water was discharged on deck through the wide mouth of the Old Man of the Sea, whose head adorned the sunny side of the pump.

Under good conditions it was a most efficient type of pump, but with dirty bilges such as these were it was another story. It gave me endless trouble when the weather was bad. I almost had to sleep beside it. Unfortunately the bilges under the ceiling (inner bottom planking) were not get-at-able for cleaning and the muck from them found its way under the leather seated valves, putting the pump completely out of action.

This happened very often during bad weather, making it necessary to completely strip the pump in order to clean the valves which meant removing the plungers to get at the foot valves. These were portable and fitted on heavy tapered metal plugs, wrapped round with ordinary lamp wick to pack them tightly in their places. On top of each plug was a large eye for lifting them out. If these were driven tightly I had difficulty in getting them out, if they were not tight enough they worked loose on their own and put the pump out of action.

The steering gear was the least troublesome of my ‘babes’. It was right aft on the poop and from here the helmsman steered the ship. There was no shelter for him in any shape or form, and in bad weather and particularly on dark nights with a roaring, towering, following sea which threatened to engulf the ship every few seconds, it was really frightening. The only spot of comfort was the dim light from the binnacle lamp of the steering compass, no human being nearer than the bridge. It was of the most simple design, just a chain, one end of which was attached to the tiller and the other end rove through a block on the deck at the ship’s side, then three or four turns over the barrel of the wheel through another block on the opposite side of the ship and finally secured to the tiller.

The steering wheel was nearly six feet in diameter. There were, two wheels, one at the fore end and one at the after end of the barrel. It had one great advantage, the helm could be put over quickly, but unlike screw steering gear it was not self holding and had to be held against the sea constantly by the helmsman, who received every shock from the heavy seas when they struck the rudder. It was not unknown for the helmsman to be thrown right over the wheel when the rudder was hit by a particularly heavy sea.

To take a certain amount of the strain, two rope lanyards were fitted one on either side of the wheel attached to heavy ringbolts in the deck. With one of these the helmsman took a turn round the wheel and held it in hand so that it could be released instantly if necessary. At times there was an additional helmsman, a lee helmsman, particularly when it was necessary to use the rudder a lot for instance when working through pack-ice, when a two hour trick at the wheel was no job for a weakling. The Officer of the watch always kept half an eye on the helmsman, whose face was visible even on the darkest night, in the dim light of the binnacle as he watched the compass.

The crew were always very considerate to one another and never forgot to take along a steaming hot cup of cocoa at least once during the trick. How much one appreciates the simple and commonplace things of life under conditions of great emotional strain.

Blueprints of Terra Nova

Chapter IV. Heading South

As soon as the ship cleared land her anchors were got on board and securely lashed on the foc’le and the cables unbent and stowed in the chain-lockers. The hawse pipes, which were open to the mess deck under the foc’le, were then plugged with large wooden plugs (hawse plugs) and well cemented before fitting an iron plate over the whole inside, which in turn was also cemented. This kept the mess deck dry and snug. The cable would not be again bent until we approached our next port of call, which might be a matter of weeks or even months.

After leaving Cardiff we made for Funchal, Madeira. The weather was very fine with light head winds so we steamed all the way. This gave an opportunity to get all the loose stores that had been brought aboard at the last moment properly stowed and everything as it should be aloft.

We had been at sea a few days when it was reported to me that the skid beams over the galley, which had been fitted in London for the stowage of two of the lifeboats, were ‘on a wind’ as the sailors put it, meaning they were working badly with the rolling of the ship. On examination I discovered the reason, both boats had been loaded to capacity with all the crockery, glassware, cases of bottled stores and other fragile articles for safety. There must have been at least a ton or so. The skids were never intended, or expected to stand up to such an undue strain. I fixed them by fitting two heavy struts, or shores, one on each side of the ship. These were quite effective and were still in place when we left the ship at the end of the expedition.

From the very outset the spirit of the expedition was the spirit of Drake. The gentlemen pulled with the mariners, and the success achieved was in a great measure due to the splendid cooperation of all hands irrespective of rank. I do not suggest for one moment there was any easy going familiarity, such as one meets everywhere today, for we had the greatest respect and admiration for our officers and would have followed them anywhere. They were of course ‘hand picked’ one might say, there were no less than eleven thousand applications from people in all walks of life, eager to sail this great adventure.

All the Afterguard, with the exception of the Captain and the watch keeping officers, were detailed to work with the seamen in watches, making and furling sail, and even the scientists soon became very much at home whether aloft or sweating up the braces on deck.

Captain Oates and Doctor Atkinson were also told to work with me as carpenters mates when not otherwise employed on deck. Captain Oates was extremely keen and soon became very useful. I often gave him jobs which he did entirely on his own.