Lot Essay
After a tortuous passage from the edge of the pack-ice covering one hundred miles over two days and nights, Worsley had managed to navigate the three boats to Elephant Island: 'We reached Cape Valentine, on the north-east extremity of the island, and observed a small channel running up to a possible landing-place. It seemed our last hope. The Stancomb Wills rowed in through the surf and reported favourably. it was a mere foothold, yet if offered a temporary shelter. Her party landed, and those of us who were able began disembarking the stores and helpless men from the James Caird. ... We were a pitiful sight; the greater number of us were terribly frost-bitten and half-delirious. Some staggered aimlessly about, flinging themselves down on the beach, hugging the rocks, and letting the pebbles trickle through their fingers as though they were nuggets of gold. It is hard to describe the joy we felt, walking on land, feeling and looking upon solid rocks, after having lived through the terrible experiences of the past sixteen months. And then to fall to sleep; to rest unperturbed; to turn over and hear the music of the surf, the swirl of the ice-blocks, the croak of the penguins; to dream with hope of the future; to experience the unspeakable joy of waking up to find we were on something solid, something that had not drifted miles in the night. ... A terrible chapter in our lives had ended; we scarcely cared what was to open the next.' (F. Hurley, op. cit., pp. 109-10)