SOUTH 
our dead reckoning naturally was uncertain. Tlie boat must 
have presented a strange appearance that morning. All hands 
basked in the sun. We hung our sleeping-bags to the mast 
and spread our socks and other gear all over the deck. Some of 
the ice had melted off the James Caird in the early morning 
after the gale began to slacken, and dry patches were appearing 
in the decking. Porpoises came blowing round the boat, and 
Cape pigeons wheeled and swooped within a few feet of us. 
These little black-and-w^hite birds have an air of friendliness 
that is not possessed by the great circling albatross. They had 
looked grey against the swaying sea during the storm as they 
darted about over our heads and uttered their plaintive cries. 
The albatrosses, of the black or sooty variety, had watched 
wdth hard, bright eyes, and seemed to have a quite impersonal 
interest in our struggle to keep afloat amid the battering seas. 
In addition to the Cape pigeons an occasional stormy petrel 
flashed overhead. Then there was a small bird, unknown to 
me, that appeared always to be in a fussy, bustling state, quite 
out of keeping with the surroundings. It irritated me. It 
had practically no tail, and it flitted about vaguely as though 
in search of the lost member. I used to find myself wishing 
it would find its tail and have done with the silly fluttering. 
We revelled in the w^armth of the sun that day. Life was 
not so bad, after all. We felt we were well on our way. Our 
gear was drying, and we could have a hot meal in comparative 
comfort. The swell was still heavy, but it was not breaking 
and the boat rode easily. At noon Worsley balanced himself 
on the gunwale and clung with one hand to the stay of the main- 
mast while he got a snap of the sun. The result w^as more 
than encouraging. We had done over 380 miles and were 
getting on for half-way to South Georgia. It looked as though 
we were going to get through. 
The wind freshened to a good stiff breeze during the after- 
noon, and the James Caird made satisfactory progress. I had not 
realized until the sunlight came how small our boat really was. 
There was some influence in the light and warmth, some hint 
of happier days, that made us revive memories of other voyages, 
when we had stout decks beneath our feet, unlimited food at 
172 
