On April 27, three days out from Elephant Island, their luck turned bad. About noon a raw and penetrating mistlike rain began to fall, and the wind slowly started to move around toward the north—dead ahead. They were now perhaps 150 miles north of Elephant Island and still well within the zone where they might encounter ice. Thus they could not afford to be blown a single mile to the south. Shackleton and Worsley spent several minutes discussing the possibilities and finally decided
Rain, they’re luck turned bad.
