Friday May 29th

For some time now the arrangement has been that we get up in time for the ionosphere run at 10.30, i.e. breakfast about 10 o'clock and I run out in pyjamas at 7a.m. to do the met. readings, and then back to bed till it's time to get up. Dull, windy and drifting as usual again in the morning and temperature down to 22℉, but as usual the snow bunting was singing on a boulder half way between the ionosphere hut and the cliffs. It's such a pretty song, and is so cheering on the worst of days.

Karl's hand is better, but afraid that complaints might begin again, I fled after lunch to the Advanced Base to planetable. Almost every day all the trig. points are in clouds, and the only thing is to be in the right place ready for when it clears for a few hours. So set off after lunch accompanied by Brownie and puppies. Half way across the bay he turned to return by another route, taking the puppies with him. A little later I saw three reindeer following him about a mile behind. It snowed at times and I began to get fed up with this route when suddenly I heard a "crwock, crwock" and looking round saw two birds flying and settled some 15 yds away, not a bit scared. They were ptarmigan and knowing that specimens were wanted, I seized Sandy's one-barrelled gun: one was pure white (winter plumage) and the other white and golden-brown (breeding plumage). I moved round so as to get them both with one shot and fired. The white one was only a bit damaged and like a fool I fired again and just knocked it to bits. The other one I finished off: a beautiful bird, but I am so upset about the other. The coloured one was rather damaged, and I couldn't help some of the feathers being blown away in the wind, but hope it will be all right. Soon reached the Advanced Base, dealt with the bird, had supper, cleared up a bit, and went to bed.

Saturday May 30

Still mist on all the trig. points, so I went out to reconnoitre how it will be best to work when it does clear, and to walk along the top of the cliff in search of ptarmigan. Took shot gun and seeing seals out on the bay near the hut I went for them, but since there was no white material for a screen , I could only pretend to be a seal, and none were deceived, and they went down. Climbed Dog Point and selected a point that must be visible almost anywhere in the neighbourhood, and built a small cairn on it. Climbed down to a point lower down to look down on the shore, and on the way back saw a white ptarmigan walking towards the gun. He was not very frightened, but when I walked up he went away a little and I reached the gun. If only I had had a camera I could have got a lovely picture, for it was only 5 yards away, and white among dark stones. I went further away so as to damage it as little as possible, and just as I had loaded, it gave its funny croak and flew away, but I brought it down about 30 yds away; after falling a bit it was quite dead. Hoping he would do for a specimen I wrapped it up in my sweater to keep the wind off its feathers, and seeing snow was coming on, went home.

This weather is most depressing, for the map must get on: have just developed a method of my own which I'll start on tomorrow. One thing about not knowing the rules of mapping is that you've no idea how many you are breaking when you start doing it your own way! If the weather were better and/or the bunks wider life here would be most restful. Life alone, or almost alone, with Karl is full of anxiety: recently he has been extremely nice most of the time, but then a day comes when he drives you just frantic. And when he talks - and the same applies to Brownie - it is I, I, I all the time, though admittedly he tells a story extremely well and not a few of them are most amusing.

Sunday May 31st.

Getting behind the clock. Couldn't get to sleep for four hours last night so wasn't up till midday today. It's no lighter at any time of day than another and no more likely to be fine, so you may as well do what you want just when you want. Still clouds on trig. points so I started off at 2p.m. to do it my own way. This entails much trudging in the soft snow. By 6p.m. I had finished my triangle, and to persuade myself that there was still plenty of time to do more, I had breakfast again - indeed there's nothing but porridge and pemmican to eat here. Then off again, and by soon after midnight I had nearly all the Advanced Base bay mapped. It was snowing all the time, but no wind, so one got less cold than wet; the dull light was trying to the eyes. Got to bed about 2a.m.

Monday June 1st.

Up at midday again. June at last. May has passed slowly and has been the least pleasant month for a long time, and so it's grand to be in June. I always seem to be away from the base on the morning of the first of each month now-a-days - good!

Snowing and wind, but not enough to prevent planetabling. Soon the wind died. Hard trudging through deep snow. Mapped from half-way from here to Dog Point up to beyond Boat point. I had hoped to get as far as "225", but when a mile or two beyond Boat point it started snowing so that I couldn't see my last cairn; it cleared a bit so that I could just fix that point, and I thought it best to return filling in the detail of the coastline. Got home 9.15p.m.. Inked in maps and prepared for a long day tomorrow if reasonably fine.

Tuesday June 2nd.

Wonder if Brownie will have got any interesting news from England. This was the day of his communications.

Normally a person has to get out of bed knowing that he could go on sleeping if he were allowed to, but here I have just gone on sleeping till can no more, and then get up. Have just had breakfast and been out to see what it is like outside - can hardly see through the window it is so frosted up - and found it windy with drift and visibility less than two miles, so it's no go my starting off. It was a big breakfast - of curried porridge as that is the result to not cleaning out your ration bowl - in preparation for a long day planetabling round to the Valley hut, and stay there the night and home tomorrow. But it's no good planning anything to time-table here: must just wait here till visibility improves, and then I'll push off. So back to "The Andrie Diaries" which is most interesting and stimulating: the three were so cheerful in all their difficulties.

Soon got cold, so got back into bed and read there. Finished the Andrie story - a pathetic one, but not the book. Lay back, nice just to think and dream. Wind howling all the time. Wonder whose tennis day it is at home. They will be playing cricket on the close now. After 7p.m. got up to look at the weather. Still drifting and can't see two miles. Felt like eating - merely for something else to do. Searched again through the shelves, but there's nothing but currie powder, baking powder, Bemax and treacle. At last found a huge tin of Heinz Baked Beans. These always remind me of Lyons and are rather repulsive, but they would be a change. Stuck half way through - they are so stodgy. Will be suffering from excess of vitamin B soon, as I've nearly eaten two cartons full of Bemax chocolate since coming here, each bar containing 80 international standard units of vitamin B, and a pamphlet "the truth about vitamins." Went through some of my auroral notes. Found an Ian Hay book, so am going back to bed to see if he has anything amusing to say. Midnight: the wind has died down a bit and it's clearing, so I must push off after another breakfast. And I was just going to make supper and go to bed.

Wednesday June 3rd

Fed up with this country and its damnable weather. Nice and clear after "breakfast" so packed up everything on the little sledge and set off. The whole of the Hansteen valley was clear, but before long the wind got up again and it began to snow slightly. Hoping it might improve again I pushed on, but before I reached the point where mapping started the visibility was so bad that the Advanced Base was only visible as a black mark. So had to turn back, furious. I'm tired of all this trudging in deep soft snow - often 18 inches deep and slush below when you are near the tide-crack - and like a fool I've brought a komager with a large hole in it and large lumps of snow get through it. Of course I'm an absolute fool not to have brought ski. Still, after reading about Andrie and Co. it's ridiculous to complain! But I'm disappointed about the survey: Dan said "Don't worry much about accuracy, but get the whole thing done," but what I've done up to now I've done carefully, and don't want to throw it all out now. Besides one can do practically nothing when the visibility is only a mile. Poor John and Archie, how I pity you if you are having this weather, and you too, Dan, if you are fit yet. Got back at 2a.m. and was put in a good temper by the two snow buntings that feed on some rice on the ground outside the window here. They really are the sweetest things.

The wind howled all the time, and it was blowing hard when I got up after noon, and snow was falling in huge wet flakes. The wind soon dropped a bit but the snow continued till after midnight with impossible visibility. Got on very well going through my auroral observations, and finished Ian Hay's "Carrying On" - utter trash; still, it was written during the war, so must be excused.

Thursday June 4th.

An exhausting day. Plane-tabled round the coast from the Advanced Base to the Valley hut - 9 miles - and it took from 2p.m. till after midnight - mostly because I could hardly move the sledge in the soft deep snow, which was, of course, at its worst at the tide-crack where I was working. At first I worked on my margarine-paper map, but then the trig. points became visible and I could use the proper plane-table map. Then I got into great difficulties for the trig. points don't seem accurate: if you set on three of them you'll be miles out with another. I worked with three given ones for sometime round the coast, then David's Cairn became invisible and I had to use "176", only to find after walking a mile or more along the coast, I had apparently gone 200 yds out into the bay! Eventually reached the hut, finding out too late that the sledge ran better on the stones than on the snow.

Friday June 5th.

Another tiring day. Had uncomfortable night in a bed 5½ ft long, which was not a good beginning. It was drifting and snowing hard when I left for the base, and very bad visibility, so that compass-steering was necessary, but these were but slight inconveniences compared with the soft snow. You just floundered about, sometimes nearly up to the knee, always well above the ankle, and the sledge (?) so that the boxes etc. were all in the snow and it just wouldn't move. I can hardly ever have been so exhausted as when I struck land near "135": I nearly just sat down and cried! The wind was strong and I had to face straight into it and the drift, but this simplified steering very much. After sighting land the surface on the E. side of the bay was much better and the visibility became good, so that Base mountain was visible soon after passing Zeipel Island, and I got in at 9.45p.m. having covered 8 or 9 miles in 6¾ hours!

Found the others well and that they had shot a bear: Karl had heard a lazy puppy growl and on going out saw six of them out in the bay chasing the bear away. Apparently then the bear turned and chased the puppies and nearly killed Fatima, but then Karl wounded it and knocked it over and Brownie finished it off afterwards. Of course Karl's story was extremely long and self-laudatory.

Saturday June 6th.

Clouds cleared away in the evening, so I set up the plane-table at the observatory and found why everything had been going wrong. The 176 trig. point was marked ¼ mile out of place on the planetable, so no wonder things had been a bit funny.

Sunday June 7th.

Cloudy and windy at first, but then it cleared up, and Karl set off for the ice-cap about noon. In the afternoon Brownie went after seals in the pack while I went plane-tabling - to set 176 properly on the map. It was glorious going across the bay: the sky was a real blue, the sun was shining through thin cirrus clouds at times, lighting them up with iridescent colours of pink and blue round the edges. Tried to climb the cape at too steep a place, and it would have taken much less time to go round the easier way. It's humiliating to be stuck at the bottom of a hard snow slope, and all the puppies look down at you from the top, disgusted with you. From the cape you get a beautiful view back to Snotopen and its glacier, and from the top you get a fine one down the bay and over to Mt. Franklin, and the Old Man looking over its shoulder. It was glorious to be alive. At the top there was truly a gale blowing, so much so that it blew the plane-table over, so after fixing the conspicuous boulder on the top, and the 100m contour, returned homewards, the wind making it too unpleasant and impossible to be accurate in such exposed positions. So after doing the unmapped part of the map below, I returned home via Zeipel Island.

Brownie had shot two seals in the pack, and after supper we took five puppies - Pinkiak, Pat, Fuzziak, K2 and Euphemia - to see if we could get them to pull the seals home. For a long time we couldn't get them to move at all: they just tried to get out of their harnesses or fight one another. Fuzziak was hopeless and just lay on the ground, so we unharnessed her, and Brownie walked 30 yards ahead with her and I pulled on her trace. Suddenly Pat caught on the idea and pulled hard when I started pulling, and the others followed suit, and after straightening them up after a few yards they went well: I was hardly pulling and wasn't doing more than 10 per cent of the work, often slackening entirely and at last dropped the trace and the puppies went on finely. Then we put Fuzziak on, and they all went off at a gallop leaving me far behind. The ice, which two days ago was deep in snow, was now covered almost all over by water only, which made pulling easy for the puppies. They, and we, were greatly excited by the biggest stone avalanche we've seen, down one of the gullies to the north. The good puppies were extra well fed at night: they really had done marvellously, and if they go on like this, they will be most useful. They really seemed to enjoy it.

Monday June 8th.

A very windy day, so I made it one of these profitable days when one gets a lot done at the base. Amongst other things we put up a new meat rack. Had seal's heart for lunch - most good - and ptarmigan and glaucous gull at night - the former very good and the latter much better than it smells - an oily smell. The stream is flowing again today.

Tuesday June 9th.

A glorious day - though little above freezing point, and with quite a breeze it was glorious lying on the glacier basking in the sun. The sky was a beautiful rich blue, neither dark nor pale, which contrasted so perfectly with the white of the snow, the red or black of the rocks, and the pale blue of the ice which near here is now dry and smooth. A rude glaucous hovered above me saying "Caw, its fine up here" but then he swooped down and I bagged my first. There are three reindeer that are determined to graze near here, and the puppies again chased them away this morning. Will the big dogs chase them for miles and we lose them when they come home? Tried to sledge more puppies tonight: Fatima and No.8 are hopeless, but Leslie learnt well, and K2 and Euphemia seemed to enjoy it again. No fire today.

Wednesday, Thursday June 10th, 11th.

There is something about this hut which prevents sleep: Karl says it is so "dampy" and he and I both lie awake for hour after hour. An international day today, but we are now getting so used to them that they are now no rush or bother, and I got through a lot of things in the meantime, and made a complete, and let's hope good, rigid sledge out of two broken ones. It's been like an autumn day in England - pelting with rain - a lot of the time. The whole landscape is changing and is not so pretty, for on the capes round the bay the snow is coming off and the black rock staring out. We put on Fatima a harness which is difficult to get off, and tied her and No.8 in turn to a sledge and left them out in the bay, and walked home, and they both pulled the sledge home; so there's hope even for these two.

Can't understand Brownie - he's so suddenly changed in the last few days: he has always been indolent and unenterprising, but now I don't get a chance to do anything as he does it all; he never took any interest in anything 'household,' but now not only has he taken to bread making, but he even experimented with a milk loaf. I have often wondered if he would wake up when the summer came, and he is doing so in an astonishing manner.

Friday June 12th.

Robert said over the wireless today that he was ready to leave the ice-cap almost at once, and would leave when fine, so we'll have him here soon, tho' I'm afraid I will have to leave as soon as he arrives. We tried to get in contact with m.s. 'Polar" as arranged, by radio-telephone this morning, but failed: she is said to be in the South of Hinlopen. Bad weather in the morning, so I made a sort of a sledge sail for fun, but it was not a complete success. In the afternoon Brownie and I took the worst five puppies with the sledge along the coast to the north, and then left the sledge to investigate a suspected lake inland; there was none, but the scenery in the hollow will certainly be fine when the clouds clear away. Saw two new birds - Skua and Purple Sandpiper. Better success with the dogs on the way home: usually one of us runs in front and the other sits on the sledge with the whip, but when Brownie dropped behind today I managed to drive them home for a good half-mile. Most encouraging, but it's a pity two or three of them have to be taught by force. Then Brownie went out after seals and got one, and I made an improved sledge sail: it's out of the old darkroom red curtain-blanket, and looks more like a procession banner and should have on it "Repent ye, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand," or "Hands off Abyssinia" or "Down with Glen." If it's windy tomorrow it will be fun to see if it's any good. I'm getting more and more interested and thrilled by the problems of Polar travel - the North Pole must be conquered.

Saturday June 13th.

Another fine day. Brownie shot four more seals in the pack, which is grand, but with the one he got last night it meant five to bring home. By mistake I only took out four harnesses and six puppies, but with one of us pulling in front and one pushing the back seal with the gun, and four puppies pulling hard, we slowly got home. The puppies are really pulling well now. Slight wind today but in a gust it moved the empty rigid on the ice outside, so in a strong wind the sail should be some help. Brownie got within 13 yards of a reindeer today - they are curious beasts.

Sunday June 14th.

David's birthday, and, as arranged, we remembered him and wished him many happy returns at 7a.m. and 5a.m.

'From this plateau the mountain top raises itself, covered with snow, or rather loose fine-grained ice. From its highest point there was a splendid and uncommonly extensive view in all directions, which the glorious weather with which they were favoured enabled the Swedes thoroughly to enjoy. In the north the horizon was bounded by an endless ice-field, in which, from this height, no opening could be distinguished, and whose uniformity was broken only at some few places by the group of islands lying north of NorthEastLand, the Seven Islands, Walden Island, Great and Little Table Island, and the land marked on Parry's map "Distant High land." Towards the east the view was bounded by the high desolate snow plain which occupies the whole of the interior of NorthEastLand................"

Today as it was a good clear day we climbed to the top of Snotoppen to get the view. The snow on the glacier was very soft and you sunk very deep many steps, and at the top we found a small crevasse. Euphemia tried to climb down into it. Puppies as delightful as ever. When Pinkiak goes in deep with his fore-legs he is too lazy to pull them out, and just sits and looks round for help. From the top the view is grand as Nordenskieold describes. Our view, however, differed from his in that to the N.W. we saw a lead of open water, possibly turning round into Hinloppen. We then went on down the other side and looked over one steep place where it looks as if the hill has fallen away, and the ice falls away vertically. We slid down a steep snow slope for a long way: this was the best way to get down for from the time we left there till time we reached Brandy Bay again, it was just hell. My sense of humour fails at the two-hundredth time of stepping thigh deep into soft snow, and my komagers fell to bits and filled up with snow. I tried rolling which was quite successful, but I got too giddy, and the puppies found this a grand new sport and jumped on me and licked me all over. At last we got down into Bird Bay, and for some miles had to walk either in treacherous snow, or on stones of various shapes - I now had almost no soles to my komagers, and one came off two feet down the snow! - or in a stream, which was the best walking of the lot. We saw quite a lot of purple flowers out - that is grand - and two eiders. Fuzziak fell into a big crack in the bay ice, so she should be cleaner now! At the end of a day such as this you often wonder whether you have enjoyed it or not. If the criterion is whether or not you would repeat the trip under the same circumstances, then the answer to today is 'no.' Inland travel in this season is just not worth while.

We had been expecting Karl and Robert all day today, and when from the top of Snotoppen we couldn't see them in the bay we went on, but they gave us the slip, for when we got back to the base they had arrived. Grand to see Robert again.

Saturday May 2nd.

Fine hot weather continues. The snow level is falling rapidly owing to the increasing density of the snow, and lots of boulders are snow-free. Andrew and Sandy are wrestling with sledges. In the afternoon went with Sandy and puppies to dig a pit in the Snoloppen (?) glacier - a dull proceeding, but fine lying on the snow in the sun while Sandy measured temperatures. It's curious how one doesn't appreciate the value of other people's scientific work, though no doubt it's just as interesting as one's own. We tried to walk straight down the snout of the glacier, but it was too steep, and we just had to sit and slide.

Sunday May 3rd.

More sledges etc. Andrew's behaviour became more intolerable every day and I count the number of hours until I get away from here. Even if Sandy's back were entirely responsible for the failure of the Northern journey (and the state of the sledges is clearly a factor which must have been taken into consideration) one would expect Andrew to be extra pleasant and helpful to Sandy, but he goes out of his way to be as sarcastic and rude and nasty to him as possible, pretends to be a martyr to hard work, and sulks in general. Yesterday he went after a seal and came back in a temper because some puppies had followed, and complained bitterly. Today he said he was going out again, so I asked him to tell us when he was going and we would keep the puppies back. He said he wouldn't be going for a long time - but went in a few minutes without saying anything to us, and of course the puppies went after him. With this going on and the smell and slush outside, it's Hell. Sandy is wonderful the way he puts up with it all: we all get annoyed with him for he is so lazy at times, but as Karl says "Mar Glen, he is a genelman." Karl went off in the evening: I envy and don't blame him.

Monday May 4th.

We were expecting Brownie on the evening of the 5th. at the earliest and was amazed to see him out on the ice before breakfast this morning. He had left early and walked from Murchison Bay in about 12 hours - a really fine performance as the surface was soft in places and the ice bad in Murchison Bay. His arrival was rather a blow to old Karl whom I was astonished to see in bed when I got up this morning, for the others woke up to see Brownie, this taking the wind out of Karl's sails, for he had returned to announce that he has got a bear in his automatical shot at last "momentant dead." Brownie soon went to bed after painting unpleasant pictures of the state of the ice in Murchison Bay, but giving excellent directions as to the best route, and gave me a film of David's to be developed. Andrew went off with Karl and the dogs to fetch the bear and Sandy got on with the sledge, while I mended the tent and got food together etc. and developed David's film. After supper my sledge was still not ready, but we all worked at it and it was ready soon after midnight.

New use for the Benndorf - its key dropped down my neck stopped my nose bleeding.

Tuesday May 5th.

Mother's birthday. Got off at 1am. with quite a strong N.W. wind. Had seven dogs - Ayo, Pamiok, Akuliak, Kungasenak, Angugssuak, Angutinguak and Marratark. Kayunguak was in such a bad temper that when Andrew said I could do without him, I agreed.

On the bare ice in front of the base the wind caught the sledge (load about 300lbs) and it was blown all over the place in a most exhilarating manner. Half way across Zeipel Bay (I kept well round to avoid the pack) I noticed Upik and 4 puppies following and had to drive them back. Wind got nasty again near Valley hut and bits of ice were blown about like hailstones. When at the hut I suddenly noticed Upik and her puppies had followed at a distance. I was furious and caught Upik and beat her nose till her mouth was bleeding hard and whipped her and all the puppies back.

The snow was soft at first in the Hanstein valley but keeping on the south side on the shortest route the surface soon became better. After a bit, however there began to be no snow and we had to thread our way over as few stones as possible. I stopped once to climb a rock and see the best way down and then the dogs suddenly noticed Upik behind, slewed round and rushed over sharp rocks towards her. I rushed up and at last stopped the sledge by turning it over. Then back again towards Lady Franklin Bay: the wind got worse, and the hard ice blew in our faces: at times in a strong gust the dogs stopped and looked round, but then went on in the face of it. Suddenly in front of us lay a big piece of driftwood and a fox-trap, so we were on the shore. The visibility now was very bad and with Upik and the puppies behind I thought the best thing would be so camp at the Lady Franklin hut, dump the load and take back Upik next day even if it meant losing a day. The puppies were bound to be a continual nuisance on the journey, and certainly at Murchison Bay if they got there, and Upik is due to have another family any day now.

So we faced straight into the wind to look for the hut. The dogs really were magnificent for the flying ice hurt a lot, and in about ten minutes we were at the hut, getting there about 5.45am. Almost at once Kark turned up too, with Pat who had stayed with him after going over with Andrew to fetch the bear. He was very astonished to see his mother, and there was a great reunion. Karl was a great help, and promised to look after the puppies, so I fed the dogs and we went into shelter inside and after a long talk and meal went to bed. Why trappers must build such small bunks I can't understand: mine had been broken by rough feet at the bottom, but even so was most uncomfortable.

Began to get up about 1.30pm. - at least Karl did and got all the breakfast while I lay in bed. The wind was still strong but there was no drift and the visibility good. After getting all ready we caught Upik and the puppies and jammed them into the porch - a tight fit. The dogs were in fine spirits, and the bay surface was quite good and we got well over it steering towards the small island on the other side. The dogs were going finely and without stopping started the pull up over the land with zest. Steered direct towards Mt. Celcius and this seemed good, but nearer the top there was very little snow and we had to cross a lot of stones. Was a little doubtful as to our position for a bit, but then I saw the gap at the head of the valley down into Murchison Bay over on the other side of a frozen lake. The dogs enjoyed the slope down to the lake, but on getting out a little the ice broke and, standing on the bottom, stopped and drank hard and enjoyed themselves. I tried to get the sledge out backwards but couldn't manage, and since the dogs didn't break the ice ahead, I drove on and the ice broke always just after the sledge had got over, so on looking back there was a lane of water on top. It was only a small lake and cannot have been at all deep. The gap was the right one: a steep slope to start with - a hardish surface and rocks at the bottom, so I put on the drag and we got down finely and safely. Just when I had taken the drag off, the dogs saw a reindeer on the rocks at the side of a side valley and dashed off: I just got hold of the handlebars and managed to overturn the sledge and stop them. On down the narrow valley: it was great fun but greater was to follow, for when we got out on to the more open part of the pass the dogs saw a reindeer heading down the valley. It was a grand race. I was quite helpless, and when the valley ended in stones and the reindeer climbed up the rocks at the side I thought it was the end of the sledge, but again I managed to overturn it and stopped them. It's funny, once they're checked, the dogs show little inclination to start the chase again, and are easily kept on the route.

Trace-clearing - the first since just after starting - and out into Murchison Bay. The surface was terrible: pools freshly frozen over that gave way and hard sharp ice flowers and needles that hurt the dogs' feet and made the sledge heavy to pull. At last we came across the manhaulers (tracks?) pulling the hut to the Island, and without looking at them carefully followed them to Inner Russian Island. But they went up a very steep slope, too much for the dogs - it was one of their return tracks! So up a bit along the shore until we struck more tracks: it looked steep and I decided to go round the north of the island, but the dogs went at the hill so well that we reached the top without any trouble. They are wonderfully strong. From the top I could see South Russian Island and what looked like a hut on it, but could hardly believe it. We followed a heavily marked track through the pack: when half way across, a weird chimney on the hut got off the roof, and they both came down to the shore to meet us, and to keep the dogs off the land. They were surprised to see me, but not at the return of the Northern journey. Although I'd only been up eight hours, I felt tired after crossing the bay, and went to bed soon after 10pm.

I gave the film to David that evening - rather an epic photographic service: David gave the film to Brownie on Sunday evening, he walked home with it, 40 miles, giving it to me on Monday morning, when I developed it. It was dry by the evening, and starting off soon after midnight, after being held up eight hours by a blizzard, delivered it before 10pm. Tuesday!

Wednesday 6th. May

I couldn't sleep, and got up soon after midnight. The Ds had got up a few hours before my arrival and intended to work hard at their hut so that they could sleep in it, as they were fed up with the tent. First we had breakfast and gave one another our news - how much more pleasant a meal is when you have such excellent company. It was a sunny morning, and while David worked at the bunks inside, Dan and I worked on the roof, nailing strips of linoleum along the cracks and putting oilcloth round the eaves etc. The others were thoroughly enjoying themselves building their own home, and it's fun seeing how well you can do a thing with only limited amount of material available.

We were interrupted once, by Emma. Dan suddenly saw a bear on the ice just off our point and then she climbed up on to the land. We wondered if it were Emma for we couldn't see the cubs (Rudolf and Olivia) at first but then their perky faces poked up, and though Dan was sure it was not their pet, David had no doubt. She was sniffing, sniffing - she had evidently caught the scent of the dogs - but these were asleep. We said "Boo" and "Piertch" and she soon went off - a clumsy looking sight - towards Inner Russian Island, until she stopped to suckle the cubs. After this we frequently stopped work on the roof to look in that direction for her, or at the beautiful view towards New Friesland, the North East part of Spitzbergen. We had a picnic lunch out in the sun, and I went to sleep outside just afterwards.

There are a number of old eider nests all round the hut, and we were all delighted when Dan saw three drake eiders flying over the point. After lunch, when the dogs had had a good rest David and I took them to fetch a load from the dump about two miles away: there was a large piece of open water off Drum Point, but by keeping close in to the shore we had no trouble. Evidently a bear had been at the dump and had torn a large piece of canvas out of the Klepper and scattered two boxes, but otherwise did no harm The Ds are so short of food that we had to steal some of the dogs' man-pemmican for supper, at 5 M.B.T. (Murchison Bay Time is three hours ahead of G.M.T. - a very sensible arrangement as it means they take their met. readings at 10a.m. and 8a.m. instead of 7 and 5). They slept in the hut on their bunks that night, and I in the tent.

Thursday May 7th.

Up at 7M.B.T. but a horrid muggy day, and San and I both had headaches. While the others were working inside the hut I fetched two loads of driftwood from a beach about a mile away on Inner Russian Island. Having once taken them there it was an easy task afterwards: it was just a case of saying "Damma" and sitting on the sledge and the dogs raced along the tracks home or back to the driftwood beach as the case may be. It was fun, too, fitting the logs on the sledge so that they were stable when lashed up only by the lashing-rope.

After lunch the others had more work on the inside fittings to do, so I went out with the rifle: stalked a pair of seals, but it was impossible to go quietly on the ice flowers for they broke with a loud crunch. One seal went down, so I chanced a shot at the other at a range of what I thought was about 100yds, but he too flopped startled into his hole. I paced the distance and found it was 283yds. It's terribly difficult to judge distances over the ice. There was a lot of blood beside the hole so I am afraid I must have wounded him. Of course the shot sent all the other seals down their holes, but then I saw a reindeer about a mile off towards an island to the North. He was making towards the windward end of the island, so I made for the leeward end and then turned towards the middle. On reaching a ridge, I suddenly saw him again about 200yds away. He started running away, and I shot twice and missed, but he was so interested in the shooting that he came back to see what it was all about and stood still about 80yds away and I shot him.

We are not really supposed to shoot the beasts, but we have already killed about twenty, and there are lots in this part of the country with no trappers, and the Ds are desperate for fresh meat. Dan in fact insists on my staying with the rifle till they have got some, for they cannot expect to get many ducks for some time. Dan was asleep when I got back, but David and I went off with the dogs to Reindeer Island, we cleaned out the beast and cut off its head and feet on the spot, and skinned it on the sea ice just off the hut - the are making a praiseworthy effort to keep their surroundings spotlessly clean. They got the stove going in the evening, and we had a house warming party. Afterwards we went for a short walk to the tidal tarn to the S. a bit. Lots of old eider nests about and bits of whalebone, and we found too a big winch made out of driftwood.

Friday May 8th.

Up very late. Another dull day. David and I fetched the last load from the dump, and while he was unpacking and arranging the things, I fetched another load of driftwood. Dan went to sleep in the afternoon when I was going to have shown him how to put the Klepper together, so David and I sat over the stove and chatted till supper. They insisted on my having a night in the hotel, so I slept on David's bunk while he just managed to squeeze in a Hounsfield bed diagonally, and slept on it.

Saturday May 9th.

Had a fine night's sleep: after breakfast Dan added to and improved the hotel prospectus that DAvid and I had prepared last evening. Final edition:

THE HOTEL ON WHICH THE SUN NEVER SETS.

Just opened

Regardless of Cost

THE PALACE HOTEL

MURCHISON BAY.......

Situated in the finest part of North East Land, the newly erected hotel, embodying every refinement of luxury and comfort stands (at a slight angle) on its own magnificent estate where visitors can enjoy unrivalled hunting, boating and rough shooting - or complete relaxation.

Exquisite vistas from all bedrooms and reception rooms over Spitzbergen (West)

The grounds abound in Big Game. In addition the hotel owns its own Private Zoo. Emma and cubs on view every Wednesday at 2.30 M.B.T.

Fresh bread and cakes from hotel bakery

Fresh eggs daily from the Edderdog kennels

Concerts each evening by the hotel gramophone

Daily weather reports by the hotel met. office

Barbers saloon on the premises

German lessons by special arrangement

Illustrated booklet containing full particulars on application to the management

COME AND HAVE A SAENNEGRAS TEA IN THE BEAR GARDEN

Another dull day. After breakfast Dan and I tried to put the Klepper together. To see that we got it all right we put the framework together and it all went well, more or less; but as soon as we tried to put it inside the rubber shell we found we had to stretch some two feet in the middle, and then the fun began. By dint of hard forcing we could get the keel straight but not the sides, so in the end we had to call on David to help, and we all managed to get it together again in the end, but not without breaking two ribs and a few other parts. Dan swears he will never use it as a collapsible boat - and I doubt if he can! It was real fun struggling with it.

I had promised to be back on the 10th. if possible, so it was best to go that afternoon as I could hardly be of any more use to the Ds. It has been a great holiday, but couldn't be prolonged as it would keep back the East Ice journey. After lunch we went down to pack up the sledge: the dogs were wild; we put the food box on the sledge and went back for the tent, and when we turned round the box was open and all the dogs' pemmican snatched - just one piece per dog. They were probably very hungry, but it's bad to eat before sledging, and one or two were sick on the way home. It cleared a bit in the morning to get a last view towards Spitzbergen - a most lovely outlook they've got.

Left about 1p.m. G.M.T. Had difficulty with the wild dogs in crossing Inner Russian Island at the right place, for they thought they were on another driftwood journey and took a lot of convincing that they were mistaken. However, I got them up the right place in the end and had a good ride down the slope the other side. The bay was as bad as before and it soon started raining, so that by the time we reached the land I was soaked through. No adventure overland, but the rain was making the surface so sticky that the dogs had to pull hard to get the sledge down the long slope into Lady Franklin Bay - I even had to get off and run here sometimes, whereas I had been hoping for and expecting a long, fast, perhaps uncontrollable career down here. The bay-ice surface was sticky too but not so bad, and it seemed a long way to Karl's hut, which seemed always to be just round the corner. Kungasenak was not pulling, and we found later he had a sore chest. Rested a bit at the hut, but the dogs didn't lie down so I thought we might as well go on as the weather looked murky and there was no food for the dogs. So after collecting two empty paraffin tins we went off again over the Hansteen valley.

The rain was turning to wet snow and it was quite thick when we got to the valley hut. I thought of stopping there as the visibility was now only 100 - 200yds, but couldn't be fagged to, and besides the dog food question. So after collecting more paraffin tins we went off again. I knew there would be no difficulty in reaching the base, for if you go too much North you get into difficult pack, and if you go West you hit the land on the other side of the bay. So we struck N.W. by compass. Kept on meeting bits of ice I'd never seen before, and in an hour felt I was lost. But the compass showed all was well, and the visibility was improving, and suddenly land loomed up on our right about half a mile away. I took this to be "135", and kept it in sight until "176" became visible, and then I knew our position for certain. Zeipel Island showed up well, and very soon after it became clearer and suddenly Base Mountain was just visible. Whipped up the dogs - who were getting very tired - to get nearer in case it disappeared again, but we kept it in sight, and soon there was no doubt about it, and the clouds rose to about 150ft. leaving the surface visibility good. Reached the base, tired, (but the dogs more so as they must feel this hot weather very much) at 11p.m. after a 10 hour run. Andrew came out and dealt with the dogs, and Sandy got a meal ready. Two wireless messages waiting too - one from home and one from Dobson with an offer of a job.

Sunday May 10th.

Not up till lunch. Helped Andrew with his camera as the focussing scale was wrong. He had the very great misfortune to chip the lens when he was trying to get out a filter and after that he took a film which I developed, to see the effect, and it was not nearly as bad as he expected. Sandy gave me instructions about the packing up at the end of the expedition, as he may hardly see Archie before he leaves for Spitzbergen, and I have to pass on all these instructions. I like this sort of thing, but it makes the end of the expedition seem near. Brownie goes out and shoots a seal at a long range. Karl returns, with Upik and puppies, after knocking down all his traps. Andrew and Sandy decide to leave tomorrow so we were working late till 1.30 at food boxes. Those two never seem to be ready!

Monday May 11th

The others wanted a long sleep, so I went to bed for over an hour after slipping out in pyjamas to take the met. Still more things to be done: it's always a question as to which of Sandy and Andrew will be the last to be ready. Andrew is annoyed because Sandy isn't ready, and we go outside and find no forearm on the sledge, Kungasenak unsledgable and no safe means of shutting up the puppies! Typical. They had intended to be off at 2p.m. but did not start till 5p.m. Brownie seized the rifle and shot two more seals which we fetched before supper. He is a very good shot, but will be a terrible mess bore when he is a colonel, for even now for days afterwards we hear all about how and when he shot each beast!

Tuesday May 12th.

A gloomy, and slightly misty day, and I went out after seals after sending to Robert. Ought to have taken glare goggles, and it's much worse when the light is all diffused and the sky and snow indistinguishable and no black land visible to rest the eye on. The seal was very uneasy at 22yds and I missed him. Eyes overcome by glare, so returned, and Brownie went out but was unsuccessful too. In the meantime did a lot of indoor work that's been put off and off until there should be peace.

Wednesday May 13th.

A better day; the great feature has been that the stream has started flowing. Have been washing the ionosphere records in it, but the great thing is that now that it is so hot we will be able to do without the stove except occasionally - hitherto it has been necessary for melting snow.

Thursday May 14th.

It's been an International day since yesterday afternoon - and of course the weather is really fine just when it would be nice to go out. Karl pernoctated with me, so now we've returned to International days that are spent profitably rather than in light conversation. Nice of the old man to sit up, and he left me in peace. Got through a lot of useful things, and in the evening the Benndorf was working again out in the ionosphere hut. Brownie got off all the messages to Bear Island at night, and also got into contact with an English trawler, the Pentland Firth of Hull.

Friday May 15th.

With the base almost empty, a leaden sky, bare stones and snow only in drifts, and a strong N.W. wind, it might be late October. Karl left at noon for Low Island. After lunch Brownie and I went along the coast, and while he went on in search of duck, I glaciologised on the Snotoppen glacier. The puppies regard pit-digging as a poor sport - one would come up and look to see what you're doing, snort with disgust, shrug its shoulders and run away and bite Fuzziak. Afterwards we went bird-shooting, and I brought down one Fulmar first shot, and two more with the next two, a fourth needed two barrels and the last double barrel at a high glaucous gull was unsuccessful. Still, 4 out of 7 is better than 0 out of 12.

Feature of the day is that we did without the stove, doing all the cooking on the Primus. The fewer people there are here, the more likely is the fire to be allowed to go out and the anxiety is terrible: it's a relief not to have to worry about it - and to be able to keep cool too.

Saturday May 16th.

Waked this morning by Karl's return. He had been to Cape Hansteen, then on to Low Island, dug out his old hut there - about 18 to 20 miles from here - and shot and skinned a bear on the way home, since leaving at noon yesterday. He certainly can go on for a long time, the old man. A murky morning, but with a good weather report from Robert, Brownie, after shooting a seal, set off to walk up to A. I went out sealing; the first went down and I wounded the next, but it got into its hole. Got home just before it got nasty again - hope Brownie is all right, but the visibility is not so bad and it's not cold.

In the evening I cut my own hair: have wondered whether it is difficult or not and now I could try without offending anybody by not asking him. Result highly successful except round the left ear where I couldn't work the scissors and succeeded only in repeatedly cutting the folder of my spectacles.

Sunday May 17th.

Dull but moderate visibility. Heard at noon that visibility on ice-cap was only 40yds, and Robert was anxious because Brownie had not arrived. This was hardly to be wondered at - he is probably at Advanced Base - but told him to call again at 3 and 6p.m., and if he did not arrive we would go to Advanced Base and thence, if necessary, up to A. Unfortunately his transmitter broke down in the middle and though I called him again at 3, 6, and 9p.m. got no reply. Meantime it turned to snow here.

"Liberty Day" in Norway - and I heard all about it from Karl.

Monday May 18th.

More snowy and dull weather. No reply from Robert at 9 or 12.15 ( I was a little late calling) - but at 6p.m. heard him, and Brownie was there, but his receiver was hardly working and got no news.

Karl started building a boat - a dory - in the bedroom, but there is a great lack of "material". Spent a long time straightening nails for him.

We now get the Empire news well at night.

Upik produced four puppies - black, but with black and white below - but they had to be destroyed, and we had the unpleasant task of doing so and burying them down the tide crack. Poor little Upik, she's hunting for them all over the place with a desperate look in her eyes, followed by her other eight children who all want her to play.

Tuesday May 19th.

Truly horrid this weather. Strong wind with drift - thought that the snow was too wet for more drift, but no, and it is doubly unpleasant. Took down part of dog house and the shelves in the living-room, to provide "material" for the boat. Spent some time putting up shelves of smaller pieces of wood afterwards.

Karl at least is simple in tastes and at last we are down to two meals a day - such a saving of time and trouble. I'd go mad if we had three, i.e. three times a day for him to talk. He goes on incessantly. To keep the peace I always agree.

Wednesday May 20th.

The harangue goes on. We started arguing about Amundsen today and I produced "Antarctica" for reference: he hadn't seen the book before, so with luck he will be persuaded to read it. But he doesn't like "critickers. We have a fellow in Bergen........" He has been using the word "conquerance" for a long time and at last I've discovered he means competition.

Thursday May 21st.

We were all to wish John many happy returns of the day at noon today so we took the met. readings, and he was not forgotten here. At last the weather has improved slightly today and the sun came out but the strong wind made it seem cold; in fact I had to put on windproofs when taking the dog-house to bits to get wood and nails for the boat. This was a bigger job than I had expected and the sides could not be removed until the petrol cans in front were removed, and these were in 9 inches of ice and immovable. The boat is getting on well. Karl dips into "Antarctica".

Friday May 22nd.

Have had to adopt John's method of dealing with stockings that have gone in the heel. You merely turn them upside down and wear the hole on the instep. It all crumples up, but that doesn't matter a bit in komager. I quite enjoy sewing, but cannot stand darning. The sun shone quite a lot, but there was too much wind for seal hunting to be profitable, though a few were lying out. The ice-cap wireless receiver was wrecked today, so now we no longer call poor Robert. Our receiver's program here has been gradually diminishing. At first the program was:- England once a month, Bear Island thrice daily, Spitzbergen twice a week, highest frequency determination, A ice cap station and ordinary broadcast. It hasn't been used much for the latter recently - though now that the journeys are away I get the Empire news regularly - and now there remains only England once a month and Bear Island once a week. Spitzbergen was given up once a month, Bear Island reduced on April 15th, Highest frequency about a week ago as the receiver was getting too noisy, and now A is off.

Took down more dog house: it's incredibly well put together and a further difficulty is that some of it and some petrol cans leaning against it are below the ice level. However, the puppies play around all the time and so it's a pleasant job. My favourite at the moment is undoubtedly K2.

Sunday May 23rd.

Windy but fairly sunny, so after noon I set off to plane-table the nearer parts of the bay that are not done yet. Saw a seal in Zeipel Bay, so went to its hole and measured the depth of the bay there (46 metres), partly as a matter of interest and also to get some plane-tabling practice as I have never done it before, but only seen Dan do it once - poor old Dan, he won't be getting anything done in Murchison Bay if they are having this weather - but before I had finished clouds settled on Cape Hansteen, David's cairn, and Mt. Franklin, and I'm not sure of three more stations. So returned home, intending to fetch things and dig a pit in the glacier instead. After lunch, however, it was clear again on the other side of the bay, so set off intending to do the glacier and plane-table as well. Of course all the puppies came, and Upik too - she has her tail up again and is getting cheerful. While digging the pit the mists settled on the higher parts of Snotoppen making rather a grand sight. When I got down most of the trig. stations were in mist, so I gave up the mapping, but got one more depth down a seal hole.

Sunday May 24th.

Early this morning was woken by Brownie, who had brought Robert down for a jaunt: grand to see Robert again, tho' I was most sleepy when he appeared, and we fed him before retiring to bed at 3a.m. He got up soon after me and helped with the breakfast while we talked. It was a beastly day with drift and snow, and there was no question of Robert's going back for some time at any rate. We were kept in all day, doing various things; in the evening I mended harnesses and made a whip preparatory to trying to get the puppies to do some work. Put a harness and trace (of wire, as we have run out of rope) on Pinkiak to see how he liked it, but he didn't at all and screamed and bit at it, but it is still on and he is sleeping in the porch by his mother.

Monday May 25th.

Same dull weather with slight snow. Robert went off after seals in the morning but brought none back, and Brownie later was equally unsuccessful. Finished preparing harnesses, traces and sledge, so in the afternoon we tried to teach the puppies to sledge. Hoped Upik would be a help, but of course she loathes sledging and didn't play at all. First we had Upik, Pinkiak, Pat, K2 and No.8, but K2 kept on getting out of her harness so we left her, and No.8 just sat and screamed and had to be pulled by the others, so we removed him. We got the three of them out towards Cape Upik with Robert calling in front and pulling on a trace, and me behind. Going home they dashed like the wind and left us both behind. We put K2 on rest time and Brownie called in front, and all went much better. Afterwards we had Upik, Fuzziak, Euphemia, Fatima and Leslie on, and they were much better - Fuzziak being brilliant - and Robert sat on the sledge to slow them up on the way home. If we ran them about a bit like this and then they have a bit of training in with the big dogs, I'm sure they'll be useful before the expedition is over.

It cleared a bit in the evening and after Bear Island, Robert set off for the Advanced Base and home if possible. Brownie and I went with him for a bit: hope he reached the ice-cap all right, though I doubt it.

Tuesday May 26th.

Typical! For two weeks or more I have been waiting for the sun near local noon to have a last chance with the ozone spectrograph in the most favourable conditions. It just cleared for some minutes today and I photographed, only to find later on developing that the plate holder was empty!

Brownie got a seal today - the first we've had for a long time. Karl cooked some of the blubber and "trotter" at night in with the meat, but I didn't like either. I went out to the pressure in the afternoon to see what it was like and if there were any chance of seals out there. I stalked a dark piece of ice for some time, but saw no seal or bear track. The diffused light with snow falling gently made walking in the pressure areas difficult and I stumbled often. Hadn't been out since the day David and I were out with camera, now it seemed more wintry and dismal and with no game, and with nobody to talk to, got bored and trudged home, only to find that when I was out with the rifle two reindeer had visited the moss patch just down the coast 200 yds away, but had been chased away by six puppies who hadn't returned, but have since then. Well, I'm glad Karl didn't have the rifle, for he would probably have shot them.

Wednesday May 27th. Thursday May 28th.

Karl pernoctated and it was no pleasure. Poor old man, his wrist is bad again and swollen, but he just talked about it incessantly and related how he had suffered round Christmas with the same complaint cutting up driftwood with his left hand for four hours a day. And when he wasn't talking he spent the time touching it and looking at it, and pinching it and grunting and groaning and walking up and down the room. I was nearly driven crazy. I was certainly sorry for him first, but I cannot stand anyone who draws attention to their misfortunes and asks for sympathy. For the last few days he's been in good spirits and have enjoyed talking with him usually, but then he gets occasionally into the sort of mood he is in now and it is intolerable.

Heard Robert today: his receiver is still out of order, but it's good to hear he has got to A. Lots of drift all day today. I'm sick of this second winter.

Friday April 24th.

We intended to go off sometime after noon and started loading up after lunch: it was then that we found what a load it was - more than 500lbs probably, and articles of all shapes. The three tried to pull it themselves on the bay, and finding they could, they decided not to throw away things drastically as they thought they would have to. It had been clear and warm in the morning (18℉) but it clouded over at noon and snowed slightly. However at 1.30 the whole bay was visible, so we all started off. Then the visibility got worse for a short time, and we went too much to the right and got into the pack for a long time. This was hard work: the sledge went over and Dan had to go back to manage the handlebars, but even then it overturned several times. We then saw a way out of the pack, and after that it was much easier till we got near the Valley hut, when the pack came up to the land, and there was deep soft snow on the land; in the end we found it best to thread our way through the pack, and thus reached the hut. There was a stove and several other things to be got from there, and David and Brownie made tea while Dan gave me a quick planetabling lesson. Then tea and dry pemmican. We had got to the hut about 7.30pm. and left about 9.15pm. for the Lady Franklin Bay hut, where we were to spend the night. The valley surface was wonderfully hard and we had no difficulty, though the last bit was a bit of a drag, and I think we were all tired when we reached the hut about 12.15 and found it in a good state. Fine to have pemmican for supper again! Dan and Brownie slept in the hut, David and I in the tent - a (?) without inner, getting to bed about 2am.

Saturday April 25th.

I woke up many times during the night to see the sun shining on the tent: it was so warm, with no hoar frost, that we might have been in England. We were awake at 10am. but dozed and chatted till 11 o'clock when we got up. Porridge, then off by 1.30pm. The sun was shining hard in a cloudless sky, the wind was calm and we had to stop several times to take off clothes. We all four pulled today, and over the bay it was not difficult and we made quite a good pace. We stopped by a big iceberg with a steep side and wonderful fluting down the other side; it was such a pity you have to wear goggles most of the time, as you miss a lot of the colouring. Tea interval at 5.30pm. - chocolate, raisins, horlicks tablets and cheese, and then I had to take a fond farewell of Dan and David and turn back.

There had been some clouds on the Northern horizon for sometime, and now they rapidly blew up overhead; I was a bit anxious, for it would probably mean wind and drift, and I had left my windproofs with my sleeping bag in the Lady Franklin hut. When the sky was nearly overcast the ice-cap was a beautiful sight, for it was bathed in a pink light while the lower parts were in the deep blue shadows of the clouds, and then the brilliant white of the bay below. The wind did get up a bit, but without drift, and I raced as quick as I could to the hut, and must have got there about 8pm. Tried to light the fire but the wood was so damp that even with the help of a lot of paraffin I only managed to fill the hut with smoke. The wind was getting stronger from the South so I put on my windproofs and pushed on to the valley hut in case the drift got up. It was a dreary trudge, for I was already tired, the middle of the valley featureless and the hard slippery uneven surface was difficult to see in the diffused light, and I fell over several times; moreover a trace rope is a most uncomfortable thing with which to tie your sleeping bag on to your back. At last I reached the hut - probably about 11pm. and in five minutes was in bed - with a little pemmican, chocolate and snow for supper. Asleep in a few more minutes.

Sunday April 26th.

Awoke feeling I had slept a long time: the wind was howling round the hut but the visibility was good. It was clearing in the North, and I could see the time was about 2am. Afraid of sleeping too long if I slept again, I set off for the base. There was drift ankle-high whirling along the surface, and soon the sun came out. The going was good until I got into the pack and then it was rather difficult - I thought it wasn't worth while for a walker to make a detour, but it certainly is. Then hit on our outward tracks and was intrigued by some footmarks following them towards the base. I could only suppose it was a small bear: then I thought it must just be Brownie's nailed boots all the time, but no, for the tracks sometimes made short cuts and they were visible at times with four sets of human marks; the question was settled when I saw some bear droppings. Began to get a bit excited as I was unarmed. About a mile from the base the tracks left ours, and I lost them. It was a hot walk in the end: the little puppies and mother Upik all come out to meet me.

Found the house all tidied, the bedroom empty, boxes on Karl's bunk, so thought he had got fed up with the "dampyness" of the place and had decamped. Found him in a sleeping bag in front of the fire (out), thought he was dead, but he wasn't, so I left him. Something liquid and easily got down, so rum and water and sugar with some of David's birthday cake and then prunes to take the taste of the rum away. It was only 5am. so I decided to go to bed for a bit; found myself in a state I've never been in before - I'd taken too much rum on an empty stomach and when tired, and I couldn't climb up to my bunk for some time, but managed it in the end, and slept till 8.45am.

After ionosphere run Karl - whose back seems bad - went out to find the tracks I'd seen; he saw big ones too and said it was a mother bear with a cub - glad I didn't meet them, as they are apt to be nasty. The dogs seem to have kept them away from the Base.

A fine afternoon, but don't feel like doing anything energetic, so wrote diary. Li'lle Euphemia is missing.

Monday April 27th.

Went to bed at 6pm. yesterday and slept till 9am. this morning - 15 hours is a record for me. Nearly forgot to change the charts. Li'lle Euphemia still missing, but I walked along under the cliffs calling, and she rushed up only to by attacked and nearly pulled to pieces by the others.

A genuine thaw and heavy wet snow, and the dirty slush outside reminded me of a thaw in dirty Bristol. Dripping all over living room and bedroom, and the bedroom is deep in water. Had meant to spend the afternoon looking for a bear, but had to occupy myself in clearing the ice from the floor and roof of the loft. It is fortunate that we got nearly all off before, and now the remainder came off very easily, and the dripping has almost ceased. Felt lethargic all afternoon - the sultry weather, stooping under cross beams and moving heavy boxes, doing something I didn't want to, and then to have afterwards only Karl to listen to, make life a bit irritating. He told me a good story at lunch, but scientifically impossible, and long reminiscences at supper. Still he has make a spade and skinned foxes and made a sealing screen, so one can't complain.

Took opportunity of clearing up all my things. Karl says he doesn't like modern polar books, so I found him 'Parry's North Pole 1827" which is keeping him quiet now. Loathesome weather: poor manhaulers. I feel thirsty all the time and there's nothing to quench it with. So hot inside, but we have to keep the fire going to melt the snow for water.

Tuesday April 28th.

Still sweltering, and water everywhere. At any rate it will be fine for housebuilding at Murchison Bay, and John will be pleased if surveying, cursing if travelling. Went fulmar shooting in the afternoon; Karl got 8 birds with 12 shots, I got 0 with 12! Is everyone as bad as this when he begins with a shot gun? Had long talk with Robert, and he says he will join me in hauling the Klepper down to Murchison Bay at the end of June and spend a short holiday there. Started collecting food for the journey in the evening.

Wednesday April 29th.

Spring cleaning at home will be over now, but I've been at it again today. Next year it will seem easy removing dust after struggling here with hoar-frost, ice and water. The loft is now dry, but the ground floor still wet: there is ice collected all along the bottom of the walls and behind pieces of furniture where it cannot be got at.

Karl went off after seals in the afternoon. At 7 o'clock he had not returned, so I put on my skis for the first time for months to see if I could walk more easily in them on the bay, and by that time Karl was visible on the horizon; so I went out to meet him and found him sweating, pulling a big seal back. Fine meal of blubber for the puppies at night, and my first seal meat since last summer. Fine to get fresh meat once again.

A sight reminiscent of England: water drops on telephone wires.

Thursday April 30th.

A fine day, so I decided to go to the Advanced Base in the afternoon to fetch the plane-table legs. Suggested to Robert that he might walk down and meet me in the evening, and he said he would if the weather looked safe. Set off about 2pm. with small sledge loaded up with an extra box of food for Murchison Bay, and the food-box and paraffin for our journey thither - my idea was to drop them at Karl's hut and thus make the journey easier later. It was about 100 lbs altogether with rucksack etc, and went well on the smooth surface, but when I got into the edge of the pack - I didn't keep enough to the left to avoid it entirely - I was soon sweating and my feet soaking wet as the snow was very deep in places. However, after a bit I got through with only a few overturns, and then went well on the smoother stuff beyond though the surface was horribly soft. There were several seals lying out and so unsuspicious that I walked up to within 90yds of one before he flopped in. My sole weapon was a ⋅410 - to make a noise if a bear appeared - so I didn't waste time on the seals. Reached Karl's hut in good time at 5.20m. and unloaded and sat there a few minutes. Then off towards the Advanced Base, flat and fine almost the whole way except that the surface was soft. Found one piece of crystal clear ice among the ordinary lumps of pack with large deposits of wet mud on it. At Dog Point found tracks of a small bear and a Nansen. All this time it was getting black in N.W. and the wind got up - but it always has done that in the afternoon recently and it never comes to anything. Still I hardly expected to see Robert.

On reaching the Advanced Base it was clear somebody had been there, though as far as I knew nobody had been since I was myself. There was something leaning against the front door: the lobby seemed disarranged and the inside of the hut seemed different at the first glance. Then my eye fell on two reinskins drying on the line, a pile of pots and knives etc. Clearly one of the journeys had been here, and Andrew's windproof coat, the aneroid box and "Pickwick Papers" settled that it was the Northern journey. Got rather in a state for I couldn't think what can have happened to them: surely I'd have seen them if they'd gone to the base: have they gone up to A? Outside I couldn't find any definitely new sledge tracks - have they lost all the dogs and had to come home? It was cold now outside in the wind, so I attacked the doghouse roof with a pickaxe, and was lucky enough on lifting the first board to find the plane-table legs underneath. Went back inside to a meal and bed - wondering.

Friday May 1st.

Don't know what time I woke. Porridge, then off. It was cloudy generally but clear to the N.W., and the sun was shining before long. At Dog Point noticed again the sledge tracks - of course they were new ones, fool not to have remembered them last night: two tracks, so they've both sledges: only eight dogs so what's happened to the other? two more tracks, so neither of them can be badly hurt: here Sandy must have ridden a bit: here he goes off to follow the little bear tracks which they keep on crossing: quite long strides so they must be doing quite well, one dog track far to the left of the others, so Angugasuak is there and as mad as ever. No sign of the bear anywhere.

Had started in windproofs, but soon they came off: wind dropped and it got hotter. Marvellous for May morning - thought of the last few; last year too hectic to remember, the year before on the Cherwell, the two years before at Magdalen. At "225" removed nearly all my clothes to keep cool and I proceeded wearing only four things - komagers, stockings, pyjama trousers and snow goggles - and I kept on the pyjama trousers merely from innate decency and not for fear of getting cold if I took them off. Got into the base at 10.25 - met by Andrew and all the dogs. Just stayed to hear they had to give up the Northern Journey on account of Sandy's back, then rushed to the engine, poured in cold oil with difficulty, but she started like an angel and we got the ionosphere run cracking by 10.40. Can't think how I ever got so late. In the afternoon I lay beside a boulder with Sandy, basking in the sun, discussing future plans. Disappointed that Robert's and my journey to Murchison Bay must be off, but it is certainly out of the question. So I am to go alone with dogs to Murchison Bay with the Klepper when Brownie returns. Alarmed at the thought of managing these Blacks by myself, but will be pleased if it all comes off all right. Had a change of clothes and a wash - first since Christmas eve.