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.