OYSTER ALLEY 



forward deck, were a special attraction. Our nine dogs 

 also claimed a share of attention, although it was a 

 gymnastic feat to climb through the supports of the 

 pony structure, stretching across the decks, in order to 

 reach the forecastle, where the dogs lay panting in the 

 hot sun. To the uninitiated the number and size of 

 the beams belonging to the pony structure seemed 

 excessive, but we knew we might encounter heavy 

 weather which would tax their strength to the utmost. 

 The Nimrod was deep in the water, for every available 

 corner had been stowed with stores and coal and, if we 

 could have carried it, we would have added at least an- 

 other fifty tons to our two hundred and fifty; but the 

 risk was too great. Indeed I was somewhat anxious as 

 to the weather she might make, though I knew she was 

 a good sea boat and had great confidence in her. There 

 were many whose criticisms were frankly pessimistic as 

 to our chances of weathering an Antarctic gale; and as I 

 stood on deck I could hear the remarks of these Job's 

 comforters. Such criticisms, however, did not disturb us, 

 for we were confident in the ship. 



Oyster Alley was crammed with the personal be- 

 longings of at least fourteen of the shore party; it was 

 the temporaiy resting-place for many of the scientific 

 instruments, so that both ingress and egress were matters 

 of extreme difficulty. The entrance to this twentieth- 

 century Black Hole was through a narrow doorway and 

 down a ladder, which ushered one into almost complete 

 darkness, for the doorway was practically filled up 

 with cases, and the single narrow deck light gener- 

 ally covered by the feet of sightseers. The shore 

 party's fourteen bunks were crammed with luggage, 

 which also occupied the whole of the available floor 

 space. It was in this uncomfortable place that the 



39 



