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he had one pervading characteristic: he was purposeful.
the toast, “To our sweethearts and wives.” Invariably a chorus of voices added, “May they never meet.”
those that burdened themselves with equipment to meet every contingency had fared much worse than those that had sacrificed total preparedness for speed.
he was intensely watchful for potential troublemakers who might nibble away at the unity of the group.
he was prepared to go to almost any length to keep the party close-knit and under his control.
Shackleton frequently sought Hurley’s opinion, and he was careful to compliment him on his work. He also assigned Hurley to his own tent, which appealed to Hurley’s snobbishness and also minimized his opportunities for gathering other latent malcontents around himself.
Shackleton seemed concerned that they might cause friction if they were in close contact with the others too long.
His attempts at humor were often more foolish than funny because he lacked perception.
he was quite self-centered and a poor listener.
interrupt any conversation to inject something about himself
difficult for him to tell when his leg was being pulled,
he seemed to enjoy a joke on himself—at least it gave him the chance to occupy center stage.
James, he probably never should have gone with the expedition at all.
The will to survive soon dispelled any hesitancy to obtain food by any means.
“Boss” had the connotation of absolute authority. It was therefore particularly apt, and exactly fitted Shackleton’s outlook and behavior.
instead of reacting decisively in the face of McNeish’s stubbornness, Worsley impulsively notified Shackleton. This served only to aggravate McNeish’s resentment.
“The monotony of life here is getting on our nerves. Nothing to do, nowhere to walk, no change in surroundings, food or anything. God send us open water soon or we shall go balmy.”
He would take a party of five men and set sail in the Caird for South Georgia
You can convey my love to my people and say I tried my best.
reindeer sleeping bags.
Both groups knew they might never see one another again.
their rescue was the primary subject, with food running a close second.
planning the imaginary meals they would have when they got home.
Through one means or another, they kept their spirits up—mostly by building dreams.
Their plight was known only to the six men in this ridiculously little boat, whose responsibility now was to prove that all the laws of chance were wrong—and return with help. It was a staggering trust.
the burden of responsibility Shackleton had borne for sixteen months had nibbled away somewhat at his enormous self-confidence.
somebody had to go for help, and this was not the sort of responsibility which could be delegated to another person.
that peculiar brand of anxiety, born of an impossible goal that somehow comes within reach, began to infect them.
