Endurance: Shackleton's Incredible Voyage

by Alfred Lansing

Consequently, the sight of land was but another reminder of their helplessness. Greenstreet’s attitude was rather typically cynical: “It is nice to think there is something else besides snow and ice in the world, but I fail to see any cause for excitement as it puts us no nearer getting out. What I would far rather see would be a crowd of seals coming up so that we might get food and fuel.” Yet frustrating as it was, the sight of land was welcome, as James noted, if for no other reason than “it is nearly 16 months since we last saw any black rock.” Macklin especially benefited since, in the excitement, Shackleton apparently forgot his decision to have Macklin’s team killed. “Please God” wrote Shackleton that night, “we will soon get ashore.” But there was precious little land left on which to get ashore. They had drifted to the absolute tip of the Palmer Peninsula, and reaching land there now seemed all but impossible. Thus, between them and the open seas and Cape Horn rollers of the dreaded Drake Passage—the most storm-torn ocean on the globe—all that remained were two lonely, sentinel-like outposts of the Antarctic Continent—Clarence and Elephant Islands, about 120 miles to the north. Beyond these, there was nothing. March 24 was a bright, sunshiny day, and the peaks of Joinville Island were clearly visible. James, looking across the dense, impassable pack, could not help but remark: “It is quite maddening to think that one little rift 20 feet wide or so would lead us ou...