IC - Chapter Five - Onto The Ice

[Ghost_1971]

Callum gratefully accepts the flask from John, and drinks deeply. The realisation of what has happened tonight begins to sink in. Yes, they have saved the engines, and the ship, but two people have died.

Poor Henning must have been cursed or something, what with being injured in the sabotage of the fridges, and now this..... Then there's Sean. "I wish I could have got to know them both better." he comments to no-one in particular. "They were good men. And they will be sorely missed."

[Raiko]

#2 Tween Deck Hold - SS Gabrielle
6:45pm - Wednesday 26th January, 1933

Thanking John for the drink, Starkweather sits behind the others for a few minutes to recover his breath.

Overhearing Callum's comments he nods sombrely, "It's damn lucky that any of us survived Callum, there were a few hairy moments with those engines."

Look at the leaking kerosene cans in the torchlight, and thinking of the thousands of gallons of fuel in the lower hold he says, "At least they don't die for nothing. If we hadn't come, a fire down here would sunk the ship for sure, and I would not like to chance this storm in a lifeboat."

After sitting for a few minutes Starkweather takes a torch and surveys the damage to the Shackleton - it doesn't look good, and the expedition leader looks furious. "We'll have to wait until it's safe for the pilots and mechanics to survey the plane, but I doubt she'll fly again. Damn it!"

"We can manage with just two Boeings of course, but..."

"Damn!"


SS Gabrielle - The Southern Ocean - Approx 150 miles north of the Antarctic Circle
5:00am - Thursday 27th October, 1933

The six men spend an unpleasant night down in the hold, they clean up the spilled kerosene as best they can, but the fumes linger. Several cans were ruptured, but there should still be enough, providing the expedition does not overextend their stay in Antarctica.

That at least heartens Starkweather a little, "Ha! Never mind eh Callum? Scott and Shackleton never needed planes."

"Three planes, or two planes or even one, it's no matter! We press on!"

The storm shows little sign of abating during the night, so the team manage with just one flashlight lit at once, to conserve their light for as long as possible.

Finally, shortly before five in the morning the weather relents, a little at least. Gathering their gear the six men quickly make their way back up to the deck, and along the guide-rope to safety. It's snowing heavily and still rather windy, but nobody has any mishaps this time.

They are not a minute too soon, shortly after they arrive back in the mess the storm resumes it's full intensity.

The captain managed to get the Gabrielle around during the night, heading east she is no longer is serious danger as the storm batters her, but there is no way to turn back south until the ferocious storm subsides.

Most members of the expedition manage to stop themselves being sick during the day, but they are nonetheless distressed to hear crewmembers talking of storms like this lasting for days. "...when I was on this whaler..."

[OrionUK]

James is shattered after the eventful night and is pleased to be able to head back towards the cabin after the fume filled hold. He is slightly disheartened to hear people talking about how long these storms can last and hope that, on this occassion, they are proven wrong and the storm abaits soon.

[Decrepit]

Jack, still occasionally clutching his stomach, is nonetheless well enough to get the gist of what happened in the hold. A fat lot of good I was, he thinks. And two lost, untold damage ... Still, the fellows who saved us deserve an epic write-up.

[Raiko]

SS Gabrielle - The Southern Ocean - Approx 150 miles north of the Antarctic Circle
10:00am - Friday 28th October, 1933

The survivors of the 'rescue party' are hailed as heroes by all aboard, and morale is good despite the continuing storm and the loss of life and equipment. Everyone aboard reflects on the tragic loss of their two friends Sean McPherson and Truman Cotter, but all agree that things could have turned out infinitely worse.

The furious storm continues for two whole days, calming gradually on the morning of October 28th. Visibility remains low - the sky is lost behind flurries of heavy snow - but Captain Vredenburg decides that it is finally safe to turn south in calmer seas. Gabrielle turns her bow once more toward the Pole.

Now that it is safe to move about on deck again the expedition's aircrew Kitt, McRaven, Halperin and Dewitt are finally able to inspect the damage to the Shackleton. Light clusters are once again rigged up in the number 2 hold to allow a proper assessment of the damaged airframe.

Unfortunately the damage is catastrophic: the two loose engines are in bad shape, cracked and dented in ways that make them useless -they cannot be fixed aboard the ship or on the Ice; the two engines that remain in their crates are battered but essentially undamaged, and are still usable as spares.

The Boeing aircraft itself, however, is useless. The Shackleton's wings have been crushed in places where the loose engines have smashed through the crates, its fuel tanks are punctured, and the fuselage is smashed or twisted at a number of points.

The aircrew are forced to declare the aeroplane unfit to fly.

The cause of all the damage at first appears to have been an accident, the cleats holding the straps onto the engine crates have snapped during the rough weather, allowing the two crates to slide about freely inside the hold. Collisions with the hull and with the Boeing fuselage quickly caused the crates to shatter and the two engines to run free.

The truth of course turns out to be more sinister, while inspecting the broken cleats Olof discovers similar acid pitting to that that he found earlier in the reefer hold. The cleats appear to have been carefully corroded on the underside, the damage would have been almost impossible to spot, but the weakened cleats were almost guaranteed to fail during a storm.

The number two hold has been sealed shut since the ship departed Australia, so it seems almost certain that this act was committed by Scott. His final legacy of sabotage has cost the party more than all the rest of his work together.

[Decrepit]

After hearing about and then seeing firsthand the damage inflicted on the plane, Jack seeks out Kitt to ask her assessment of how this will affect the expedition, both for the benefit of his readers and for his own peace of mind.

[Henrik]

Olof is in a brooding mood. On a rational level he knew that an expedition like this can bring you in mortal danger, but he did not expect that it would happen this expedition and not so soon. It really feels as they are cursed with bad fortune.

[Dave Syrinx]

John shakes the hands of all the crate-heroes and retreats to his (shared?) stateroom and excuses himself to rest and to get rid of the carosene fume-drenched clothes. The ensuing days he spends in contemplation over the harsh tutor the force of nature, once again, proves to be. When fully rested and fit for fight, John joins in the games by the card table, bringing some tin flasks of medicinal amber liquid.

[Dave Syrinx]

John deals a quick hand of five cards poker, to the participants he disclose; "I´m surely glad to be on this side of the mess-hall again. A toast to the unfortunate ones who´ve left us... To keep the spirits up we´ve to make do with the odds mother nature throws at us. To better the odds of staying sane under these conditions, lets play and gain strength for the next test. Now, who´s in?"

[Raiko]

LINK: View your current progress on Google Maps Here!

SS Gabrielle - The Southern Ocean - Approx 60 miles north of the Antarctic Circle
Saturday - 28th October, 1993
Noon Position: 176°34'E, 65°33'S
Distance in last 24 hours: 214 miles
Weather: Heavy Snow
Wind: WSW 5-10 knots
Visibility: Very Poor

Throughout the twenty-eighth, the ship weaves its way carefully though fleets of giant icebergs. The wind has dropped off considerably now, but visibility is very poor due the heavy flurries of snow from the West. Progress is steady, though slow, colossal ice mountains loom up through the murk of the heavy snowfall and pass by without a sound. All that can be heard above-decks is the faint whine of the wind, the hiss of waves, and the cries of the crewmen on lookout at the bow and stern.


SS Gabrielle - The Southern Ocean - Approx 32 miles south of the Antarctic Circle
Sunday - 29th October, 1993
Noon Position: 176°24'E, 66°05'S
Distance in last 24 hours: 37 miles
Weather: Scattered Heavy Snow
Wind: SW 5-10 knots
Visibility: Poor

The heavy snow continues throughout the day on October the twenty-ninth. The Gabrielle moves into a region where the surface of the sea is crowded with shards and clumps of icy slush. These clatter thinly against the hull but do not impede forward progress; nevertheless, as the sea ice grows thicker and begins to harden, the captain turns west in search of clearer water.


SS Gabrielle - The Southern Ocean - Approx 105 miles south of the Antarctic Circle
Monday 30th October, 1993
Noon Position: 172°10'E, 68°04'S
Distance in last 24 hours: 179 miles
Weather: Clear
Wind: S 10-15 knots
Visibility: Good

All of the thirtieth is spent pushing through thin sea ice, the snow has ended overnight and the skies are clear, with a freezing breeze from the south. Large ice floes are everywhere, as well as flat sheets of ice as much as a half mile long. It is clear that the Gabrielle has reached the outskirts of the pack ice; and that the pack is, indeed, loose and running. It does not, however, seem safe to turn south yet.

News arrives over the radio that the Lexington Expedition is already found a way into the pack ice.


SS Gabrielle - The Southern Ocean - Approx 159 miles south of the Antarctic Circle
Tuesday 31th October, 1993
Noon Position : 174°08'E, 68°51'S
Distance in last 24 hours: 147 miles
Weather: Cloudy
Wind: S 15-20 knots
Visibility: Good.

The following day the ship’s westward progress is stopped by ice. To the south and west, in all directions, the sheets and humps of the pack extend as far as the eye can see. The sea is flat, the sky cloudy and the air clear but cold. Even the usual swell of the sea is damped by the presence of ice on all sides. After so many days at sea, the unmoving deck feels strange underfoot. The Gabrielle sails east again, searching for clearer water, pushing slowly through a thin crust of sea ice that cracks and splinters beneath the bow.

[Henrik]

Olof spends as much time as he can indoors, a bit terrified by the ice that seems to be able to crush them without remorse. What if they get stuck in the ice? What will they do then?

[Ghost_1971]

Callum makes use of the breaks in the snow to get out on deck and acclimatise himself to the temperatures down here. He eagerly hopes for a sight of land but, as he looks out at the surrounding ice bergs, he cant help but feel slightly overwhelmed by the task that lies in front of him.

[Decrepit]

Jack's editor is none too happy with the reports that Jack can confirm of the Gabrielle's unsuccessful effort to beat the Lexington expedition to the goal. But what can Jack do but report the truth? Besides, his editor already knew from the other expedition's reports.

That had put something of a damper on Jack's enthusiasm. For all his vaunted cynicism, part of him had wanted to win the race. The race wasn't over yet, or at least didn't seem to be to a lubber like Jack, but second place meant "first loser" to many of his readers, and, he had to admit, to Jack himself.

Apart from the usually filing of stories, Jack tried to busy himself with cards, conversation, and keeping warm. Kitt seemed strangely quiet, and his efforts to draw her out hadn't succeeded all that well. Perhaps something had happened between her and Greene, but neither seemed interested in speaking about it, and, as curious as Jack might be, his native reserve and own craving for privacy--not to mention his poor track record in matters of the heart--kept him silent for the most part.

[Steerpike]

For Mcraven the storms and the deaths of two of the expedition members had taken the shine off the whole deal. The news that the other team had made it first was a real body blow to the ego, and you couldn't even go above deck the weather was so foul.

So for the past few days he has been crawling all over the brokern engines to see if there are any spare bits and pieces to keep the other planes flying. And when he's not keeping an eye on the planes that survived he has been cannablising as much of the wrecked plane, for spare landing skies, the tires, wiring, valves...the works.

Anything to keep busy, to keep warm

[Dave Syrinx]

Together with the other mountaineers, John maintains the climbing gear, looking for faulty
ropes as well as nuts and bolts in need of preparation. He too scavanges the damaged holds for useful bits and pieces to be used on climbing excursions.

[OrionUK]

For James the news of what other people were or were not doing didn't effect him as much, he was more concerned with who now gets home first!! He wasn't totally unaware of the dangers that face sea voyages when he decided to help finance this expedition and he did seem to like Starkweather & Moore, after all eccentricity goes hand in hand with the Brits, hence why he had wanted to join this group doing the near impossible. He had hoped that they would lose very few, if any, crew members but had to accept what had happened was one of those things on this kind of adventure.

James spent the calmer days at sea playing cards, doing some boxing excersizes to help keep him fit and, on the clear days, wondering at the vast ice empire spreading out in front of him. He knew this calm period would be over as soon as they were able to land.

[Raiko]

LINK: View your latest progress on Google Maps here!


SS Gabrielle – Antarctic Ice Pack, Approx 200 miles south of Antarctic Circle, Approx 580 miles from Ross Island
Friday 3rd November, 1933
Noon Position: 178°12E 69°41S
Distance in last 24 hours: 69 miles
Weather: Clear - Barometer falling
Wind: SSW 10 mph
Visibility: Good
Sunrise: 2:35am
Sunset: 9:11pm


The SS Gabrielle skirts eastwards along the edge of the ice-pack for two more days without finding a way south. It is a frustrating period for everybody on board. Just after three o’clock in the morning on November 3rd, however, a lookout spots a broad open lead of clear water arrowing to the southeast through thicker floes.

Encouraged, Starkweather orders the captain to press on. By noon the ship has pushed twenty miles into the pack. Walls and cornices of ice rise to port and starboard, and the chunks and panes of sea ice atop the lead tinkle musically as the ship pushes through. The ice rises and falls on either side, slowly, rubbing and crumbling in blocks as big as a man, now and again splitting apart with sharp gunshot reports.

The barometer begins to fall once more toward sunset, but the ship pushes on southwards.

SS Gabrielle – Antarctic Ice Pack, Approx 50 miles south of Antarctic Circle, Approx 750 miles from Ross Island
2:00am - Saturday 4th November, 1933
Weather: Violent Storm
Wind: S 70+ mph
Visibility: Very Poor
Sunrise: 2:53am


At around midnight that night another storm hits. This one is the most powerful storm yet, with the windspeed averaging over seventy miles per hour, blown ice and hail, and heavy seas. This time, however, an added danger exists -- the pack itself.

Around the ship, the ice moans and shatters from the force of the sea. Huge bergs roll and grind against the Gabrielle as she tries to turn to clearer water, but there is nowhere to go. Again and again, the ship clangs and heels as spines and shoulders of hard ice grind against the hull. Armoured plates groan and yield, but do not break. Crewmen and passengers huddle in the mess, praying, while others toil or simply I hide. There is little else to do but wait.

Captain Vredenburg eventually manages to bring the Gabrielle around, running north with the storm, but still the onslaught continues.

SS Gabrielle – Antarctic Ice Pack, Approx 110 miles south of Antarctic Circle, Approx 690 miles from Ross Island
Sunday 5th November, 1933
Noon Position: 179°12E 68°09S
Distance in last 24 hours: 184 miles
Weather: Clear
Wind: S 10-15 mph
Visibility: Good
Sunrise: 2:41am
Sunset: 8:57pm


The ship survives - miraculously, it seems. The deck is awash with ice, and great seams and gouges can be seen over the rail - but the storm passes with the night, as swiftly as it came, leaving behind a new world.

To all sides the solid walls of the pack are broken. Narrow cracks and threads of open water show at every hand. The Gabrielle turns southward again, pushing gently into the pack and forcing her own way carefully forward beneath a smoking blue sky. All hands are required on deck to help push away the smaller bergs with long poles, or repair the damage left by the squall.

Forcing the pack is a dangerous undertaking. The ship’s engines roar and rumble as she inches up to a floe, nestling softly alongside, then churning the sea behind with all the power she can bear. Usually the ice yields. Again and again she presses forward in this way, the heavy crashing thrum resounding through the hull.

The pack ice on all sides is very thick and very old. Weird hummocks and spires rise up at odd angles; layers of dark and light ice like the striations in ancient stone can be seen at every hand. All around are the colours of the sea: white, green, and every shade of blue, shifting from instant to instant and sparkling like cast diamonds in a stray ray of sunshine.

Throughout November the fourth and the fifth the Gabrielle pushes onward through the pack. On the morning of the fifth, the radio reports that Acacia Lexington’s Tallahassee is trapped deep within the ice, not more than three hundred miles to the east. There is no way the Gabrielle could help the other ship, but from the satisfied look on Starkweather’s face when he hears the news, it is just as well.

[Raiko]

View your latest progress on Google Maps here!

SS Gabrielle – Antarctic Ice Pack - 178°47'E 69°20'S - Approx 190 miles south of the Antarctic Circle, Approx 610 miles from Ross Island
9:10am - Monday 6th November, 1933
Current Position: 178°47'E 69°20'S
Distance since noon: 46 miles
Weather: Misty
Wind: SW <5 mph
Visibility: Poor
Sunrise: 2:36am
Sunset: 9:02pm

On November 6th, the wind dies out and a thin mist descends upon the sea. Ghostly vaporous fingers rise from the water and curl around the ice; the colours of the sea and sky blend and twist eerily off of the pack. Distant objects blur and reappear like illusions - one minute the lookouts can see to the horizon, the next the nearest bergs are all that can be made out through the haze.

About nine o'clock that morning, as most of the expedition are finishing their breakfasts in the messes, a cry is heard from the lookout high above the deck, as a darkened mass on the far side of an iceberg comes into view. As the Gabrielle gets closer, the bow of a trapped whaler can be seen protruding from the ice, half frozen and adrift.

As members of the expedition and the crew gather on deck to see what's happening, First Officer Turlow surveys the wreck through his binoculars. "It's the Wallaroo," he says, uneasily. "She disappeared last autumn during a squall. No one has found a trace of her - until now."

As the Gabrielle pushes closer to the trapped vessel Starkweather, Moore, and Captain Vredenburg discuss what to do. It's decided to lower a launch and send a small team across.

Starkweather comes looking for volunteers, "I'll be going of course, but we'll need six or eight good men at least - for safety."

The expedition leader looks to Jack, "I assume you'll be coming along Jack? Don't forget your camera; your editor won't want to miss out on this!"

[Dave Syrinx]

John raises a hand and says; " My rope is offered as always, Sir! I´ll tag along to keep my skills honed. Unless someone else prefer to get some excercise, that is. I´m ready."

[Ghost_1971]

"You can count me in too Boss. Just keep those Frozen Zombie Sailors at bay please." jokes Callum