LOSS OF THE ENDURANCE 
To a sailor his ship is more than a floating home, and in the 
Endurance I had centred ambitions, hopes, and desires. Now, 
straining and groaning, her timbers cracking and her womids 
gaping, she is slowly giving up her sentient life at the very 
outset of her career. She is crushed and abandoned after 
drifting more than 570 miles in a north-westerly direction 
during the 281 days since she became locked in the ice. The 
distance from the point where she became beset to the place 
where she now rests mortally hurt in the grip of the floes is 
673 miles, but the total drift tlirough all observed positions 
has been 1186 miles, and probably we actually covered more 
than 1500 miles. We are now 346 miles from Paulet Island, 
the nearest point where there is any possibility of finding food 
and shelter. A small hut built there by the Swedish expedition 
in 1902 is filled with stores left by the Argentiae relief ship. 
I know all about those stores, for I purchased them in London 
on behalf of the Argentine Government when they asked me 
to equip the relief expedition. The distance to the nearest 
barrier west of us is about 180 miles, but a party going there 
would still be about 360 miles from Paulet Island and there 
would be no means of sustaining life on the barrier. We could 
not take from here food enough for the whole journey ; the 
weight would be too great. 
" This morning, our last on the ship, the weather was clear, 
with a gentle south-south-easterly to south-south- westerly 
breeze. From the crow's-nest there was no sign of land of any 
sort. The pressure was increasing steadily, and the passing 
hours brought no relief or respite for the ship. The attack of 
the ice reached its climax at 4 p.m. The ship was hove stern 
up by the pressm'e, and the driving floe, moving laterally 
across the stern, split the rudder and tore out the rudder-post 
and stern-post. Then, while we watched, the ice loosened 
and the Endurance sank a little. The decks were breaking 
upwards and the water was pouring in below. Again 
the pressure began, and at 5 p.m. I ordered all hands on to 
the ice. The twisting, grinding floes were working their will 
at last on the ship. It was a sickening sensation to feel the 
decks breaking up under one's feet, the great beams bending 
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