IC - Chapter Five - Onto The Ice

[Steerpike]

"The only thing we can do Mr Starkweather is give them a burial at sea, then radio what we found, other than that, I think we're done here"

[Dave Syrinx]

Salvaging the bottles, John sees the find as a replacement to his ´medical stash´from the Cleopatra at bay in Australia. "Can warm us in two ways if the need knocks on the door..." John prepares to leave the Wallaroo.

[Ghost_1971]

"I agree. A burial at sea is the only thing we can do, Mr Starkweather." says Callum.

[amarriner]

Isugtag grunts his consent to the burial at sea and prepares to leave.

[OrionUK]

Thinking about the couple of alternatives of burying the bodies or taking them back when the expedition was over was not appealing at all. "I think a sea buriel is the only option really and isn't that what sailors do anyway?" James is more looking for reassurance that this is the right thing to do rather than making a statement.

[Decrepit]

Hell if I know, Jack thinks. All I know about the sea is what I've read in books and articles..

"Let's be done with this, fellows," he says at last. "This is a bad business."

[Dave Syrinx]

"We shouldn´t disturb these souls more than we already have. They have found their resting place. Not before long they will be draped in ice or the shelf ice will crush this hull. I say we head back and let the fate of the Wallaroo be known to the public when we get home." John leaves the porthole of the cargo hold and heads over to where they scaled the ship´s icy outside earlier. He hands the crate of whiskey to Callum , "Lower this to me when I´m firmly off of this ship, alright mate?"
The situation could be the beginning of a nice weekend of old stories and golden liquid down soar throats, but he guessed against it. When he gets down John keeps one of the ropes tight to provide a railing of sorts for the less experienced climbers on this excursion.

[Raiko]

On Deck - SS Wallaroo

Turlow looks sadly at the lined up bodies, “Mr Rhyes is probably right, though it’s awful to leave them here.”

“If we took them aboard the Gabrielle, they could be stored frozen in the reefer hold and returned to their families.”

Pointing out at the oceans surface the first officer says, “A proper burial at sea for so many my not be any easy thing in this environment.”

The sea here is covered entirely with thick slush, and broken pieces of ice ranging in size from a few feet to several miles across.

[Decrepit]

Jack sympathizes with Turlow's predicament but doesn't feel competent to offer advice. He hopes, though, that eventually Turlow will at least decide against trying to ship the bodies back to the Gabrielle, which sounded nothing short of nightmarish to Jack.

[amarriner]

After hearing Turlow mention the current condition of the seas where they are he reconsiders his thoughts on the matter. Surely bringing the bodies over to the Gabrielle would take an inordinate amount of time. Something they might not be able to spare.

[Raiko]

After The Wallaroo
November 6th, 1933

With saddened hearts the boarding party all follow John back off the Wallaroo and down to the launch, rowing back to the Gabrielle and leaving the bodies aboard their icy tomb. Captain Vredenburg logs the position where the frozen hulk of the SS Wallaroo was sighted and that is that...

The Gabrielle pushes southward through the pack for two more days after leaving the whaler behind. Fog shrouds the surface of the ice, burning off only briefly when southern winds bring sharp flurries of snow. Each day is the same, an endless grinding succession of
thrusts against the icy walls of the lead. Sometimes progress is made; more often it is not. Forward motion is measured in feet - at best, in yards.

Trapped!
November 8th, 1933

On November 8th the last lead closes over, both before and behind. The Gabrielle is trapped in a narrow stretch of water, her hull sandwiched closely between the frozen walls. The pack beyond is utterly silent, save for an occasional sharp report or a long drawn out groan.

Starkweather and Professor Moore join the officers of the Gabrielle and various interested expedition members surveying the ice. “As I see it men, we have only two choices,” Starkweather tells the assembled explorers. “We either wait for a storm to free us - a risky undertaking at best, I think - or we blast our way free.” He grins. “I favour the dynamite; what say the rest of you?”

The debate over whether or not to use dynamite seems to take an eternity, but eventually most agree that it’s better than sitting around hoping for another major storm and the dynamite is broken out.

Professor Griffith, Nils Sorensen and Olof all have a small amount of experience with explosives, as do all of those who attended Starkweather’s popular explosive classes. All explorers with sufficient skill are gathered together into two blasting teams and lowered over the side of the ship onto the ice.

Climbing the floes, they scout forward and aft, in search of weak spots and clear water. Once it has been decided where to place the sticks of dynamite, the charges are planted and detonated on long fuses.

The first explosions seem impossibly loud. Sprays of ice fly everywhere, and puffs of smoke billow upward. The ship is forced forward with the full power of her engines—once, twice, a third time in grinding surges - and the lead groans open with a roar. Everyone cheers.

Explosives are used a half-dozen more times over the following two days, when the old thick ice seems impassable; each time, after a try or two, the ship pushes through, her wrought iron sides scarred and dented but unbroken.


Lexington Reaches Antarctica!
November 10th, 1933

On November 10th the wireless brings the news: Acacia Lexington’s party has established their base camp on the Ross Sea Barrier. From the bridge of the Gabrielle the ice stretches unbroken in all directions. The open water of the Ross Sea seems impossibly far away.

The next day, however, the ship finds thinner ice. It is a ticklish passage - the pack is loose and the heavy floes slam together without warning, threatening to crush the hull - but Captain Vredenburg manages to save the ship time and again, nudging ancient bergs forward to thrust others aside with a delicate hand.

The Ross Sea
November 13th, 1933

On the 12th of November, snow flurries once again close the world to within a few yards of the ship. The expedition pushes forward gingerly with lookouts straining to all sides. Hours pass in the cold wet of the storm; then one of the lookouts calls out, “A sea! A sea!”

The captain orders all engines stopped. As the rumble and motion ceases, everyone aboard suddenly knows that it is true. The ship is rocked gently in the slow swell of an open sea once more. For all that night and into the following day, the ship pushes on through the pack. The fog lifts early on a rough horizon of pancake ice and heavy bergs below a water-dark line of distant sky; thick sea mists close in again soon after, locking the world away once more, but the ice is loose and easily shoved aside. At 10:20 on the morning of November 13th, Gabrielle pushes into open water at last, to sounds of celebration from the crew and the expedition, turning southwest towards her chosen goal.

Land Sighted!
November 14th, 1933

Early on November 14th, twenty eight days after leaving Melbourne, land is sighted to the south. A few hours later, the horizon is filled with the sight of the Admiralty Range humbling the land below them. A tired but elated crew at last reach the Antarctic, and Ross Island. On deck the sun breaks through the thinning clouds.

[Dave Syrinx]

A week after the retrieval, salvage or theft of the Rye Whiskey John stands with the crew and exploration party on deck. The panorama is breath taking as they slip through the calm sea.
"To our health!" John salutes the closest bystanders and unscrews one bottle of Whiskey. He fills the cap, downs the invigorating drops and offers the next cap it to Isugtag along with the bottle.

Knowing there´ll be a brisk journey ahead, he´d prepared with double layers of clothing under the arctic survival anorak provided by Moore. The two packs resting by his legs contained the supplies he brought from Melbourne. Two sets of climbing gear and the Whiskey along with the shotgun and shells. John watches the clearing weather and says, "This makes for a very cold night..."

[Henrik]

"To our health!" Olof swallows the liquour. The previous days have been adventurous at least. Blowing up ice is not exactly the same as blowing up solid rock, but Olof is glad that his expertise has been useful.

[amarriner]

Isugtag nods at John and accepts the offered slug of liquor before passing it on to the next person. The Wallaroo was a depressing derelict but one Isugtag hoped was not a portent of things to come. He is very much looking forward to getting off the ship and onto the ice. Something far more familiar to him ... more like home.

[Steerpike]

McRaven looks up at the clear sky and smiles slightly..."good flying weather though" He takes a shot of the whiskey and passes it on

[Decrepit]

Jack takes a swig and feels the familiar burn. He'd sworn off alcohol--pretty much, anyway--but things'd been grim and seemed, if anything, destined to be grimmer. "Health," he says, thinking about the dead sailors.

[Dave Syrinx]

To McRaven John says, "So priority one is to get the machines fitted when we touch ice then?" He puts the cap on and pockets the bottle of Rye. Having spent a good half hour looking at the icy scene John decides to warm his feet in the mess room.

[Steerpike]

McRaven chuckles at Johns comment "Nope, I miss flying thats all, although when we do touch base getting the kites ready will be my priority"

[Dave Syrinx]

"We need the kites to pull the sledges? I missed out on that class. Busy prepping the ropes." As they chat, John looks for the material on the agenda for day one on the ice.

[Charles Graves]

Graves stares with awe at the endless miles of ice and snow that lies before them.

A shudder runs down his spine, maybe its the cold but perhaps its the realization that one mistake from any one of them from now on could spell disaster for them all.

He heads back to his cabin to check his equipment and medical supplies one last time, determined that if anyone is to be the weak link it will not be him.