did we experience such pleasant weather.

Constant visits were made to the crow's-nest in search of a way through.
December 16 and 17 were two very gray days with fresh wind, snow, and
some sleet. Affectionate memories of Captain Colbeck and the little
relief ship, "Morning," came back when the wind soughed and whistled
through the rigging: This sound is most uncanny and the ice always seemed
to exaggerate any noise.

I hated the overcast days in the pack. It was bitterly cold in the
crow's-nest however much one put on then, and water skies often turned
out to be nimbus clouds after we had laboured and cannoned towards them.
The light, too, tired and strained one's eyes far more than on clear
days.

When two hundred miles into the pack the ice varied surprisingly. We
would be passing through ice a few inches thick and then suddenly great
floes four feet above the water and twelve to fifteen feet deep would be
encountered. December 18 saw us steaming through tremendous leads of open
water. A very funny occurrence was witnessed in the evening when the wash
of the ship turned a floe over under water and on its floating back a
fish was left stranded. It was a funny little creature, nine inches in
length, a species of notathenia. Several snow petrels and a skua-gull
made attempts to secure the fish, but the afterguard kept up such a
chorus of cheers, hoots and howls that the birds were scared away till
one of us secured the fish from the floe.

Early on the 19th we passed close to a large iceberg which had a shelving
beach like an island. We began to make better progress to the
south-westward and worked into a series of open leads. We came across our