iGOING NORTHWARD 351 



was entirely changed. This saloon, after being deserted 

 for a year, was now full of men, and it was a pleasure 

 to be there; especially as everyone had something to 

 tell — the Chief of his trip, Prestrud of his, and Gjertsen 

 and I of the Fram's. 



However, there was not very much time for yarning. 

 The Chief at once began writing cablegrams and lectures, 

 which Prestrud and I translated into English, and the 

 Chief then copied again on a typewriter. In addition 

 to this I was occupied the whole time in drawing 

 charts, so that on arrival at Hobart everything was 

 ready; the time passed quickly, though the voyage was 

 fearfully long. 



As regards the pack-ice we were extremely lucky. 

 It lay in exactly the same spot where we had met with 

 it in 1911 — that is, in about lat. 75° S. We went along 

 the edge of it for a very short time, and then it was 

 done with. To the north of 75° we saw nothing but 

 a few small icebergs. 



We made terribly slow progress to the northward, 

 how slow may perhaps be understood if I quote my 

 diary for February 27: 



" This trip is slower than anything we have had 

 before; now and then we manage an average rate of 

 two knots an hour in a day's run. In the last four 

 days we have covered a distance that before would 

 have been too little for a single day. We have been 

 at it now for nearly a month, and are still only between 



