ion] 
THE SHIP STRANDED 
edge ; the wind was still strong (about N. 30 W.) and loose 
ice all along the edge — our people went out with the ice 
anchors and I saw the ship pass west again. Then as I 
went out on the floe came the report that she was ashore. 
I ran out to the Cape with E. Evans and saw that the report 
was only too true. She looked to be firmly fixed and in a 
very uncomfortable position. It looked as though she 
had been trying to get round the Cape, and therefore I 
argued she must have been going a good pace as the drift 
was making rapidly to the south. Later Pennell told me 
he had been trying to look behind the berg and had been 
going astern some time before he struck. 
My heart sank when I looked at her and I sent Evans 
off in the whaler to sound, recovered the ice anchors again, 
set the people to work, and walked disconsolately back to 
the Cape to watch. 
Visions of the ship failing to return to New Zealand 
and of sixty people waiting here arose in my mind with 
sickening pertinacity, and the only consolation I could 
draw from such imaginations was the determination that 
the southern work should go on as before — meanwhile the 
least ill possible seemed to be an extensive lightening of the 
ship with boats as the tide was evidently high when she 
struck — a terribly depressing prospect. 
Some three or four of us watched it gloomily from the 
shore whilst all was bustle on board, the men shifting 
cargo aft. Pennell tells me they shifted 10 tons in a very 
short time. 
The first ray of hope came when by careful watching 
one could see that the ship was turning very slowly, then 
