Chapter One
The Heroic Age
The captain of the ship, Frank Worsley, would remember the day vividly ever
afterward. It was July, midwinter in Antarctica, and the darkness of the long
polar night had been upon them for many weeks. The temperature was -30
[degrees] Fahrenheit, and around the ship, extending to the horizon in all
directions, was a sea of ice, white and mysterious under the clear, hard
stars. From time to time, the shriek of the wind outside broke all
conversation. Away in the distance, the ice would groan, and Worsley and his
two companions would listen to its ominous voice as it travelled to them
across the frozen miles. Sometimes, the little ship would quiver and groan in
response, her wooden timbers straining as the pressure from millions of tons
of ice, set in motion by some faraway disturbance, at last reached her
resting place and nipped at her resilient sides. One of the three men spoke.
"She's pretty near her end.... The ship can't live in this, Skipper. You
had better make up your mind that it is only a matter of time. It may be a
few months, and it may be only a question of weeks, or even ... read full excerpt from The Endurance: Shackleton's Legendary Antarctic Expedition ebook
