GALLANT N.Z. NAVIGATOR'S EXPLOITS WITH SHACKLETON

Auckland Star, Volume LXXIV, Issue 39, 16 February 1943, Page 2

GALLANT N.Z. NAVIGATOR'S EXPLOITS WITH SHACKLETON

When seventy-year-old Commander F. A. Worsley died in England', the Empire lost a man whose exploits and books first turned along the road of adventure the thoughts of many a boy who now commands a naval vessel. Here Captain Gerald S. Doorly, who knew him well, recalls his most famous adventure. Frank Worsley left his native New Zealand as a lad in the wool clipper ship Wairoa for London via Cape Horn—a vivid description of which he has given in one of his books, "First Voyage." From then his whole life was one of intense incident and hazardous hardship. He was captain of "mystery ships" during the last. World War, and leader of a British Arctic Expedition in 1P21; yet none of his adventures, thrilling as they all were, can equal for fortitude and cool courage that of his experience when he was in command of Sir Ernest Shaekleton's Endurance during the first two years of the last war. The Endurance was nipped in the Weddell Sea pack-ice. and drifted away from the shore, day after day. month after month, for 1000 miles to the north-west. Heavy rafting floes then overwhelmed the ship, crushed her and she sank. GOO Miles 011 lee The ship's complement, 2S all told, were then compelled to camp on the icefloes, on which they continued to drift, and in five months they had "voyaged"' GOO miles farther to the north. The floes then began to break up. and tlie men took to the three whaleboats saved from the wreck. Buffeted by heavy seas, in peril of being smashed by the stormtossed lumps of ice. and in constant danger of attack from ferocious killer whales, they reached Elephant Island, in the South Shetlands. after three ghastly days and nights afloat, and landed "more or less played out on the beach—the first human beings to set foot on that inhospitable island. Leaving the veteran Antarctic explorer,""Frank Wild, in charge of a party of 21 men. Shackleton decided to go for help in one of the boats, selecting the James Caird, the largest "of the three; she was only 22"" feet long by 7 feet beam. Equipped for 30 days, Shackleton put to sea in this tiny cockle-shell with Frank Worsley, Petty-Officer Crean. Carpenter W. McNeish, T. Macarty. A.8., and J. Vincent, A.B. —all proved seamen. After experiencing terrible privation and peril for IS days they sighted land—the wild and rugged snow-capped mountains of South Georgia. Worslev's fine navigation had brought them safely across SOO miles of the world's stormiest seas. They headed the James Caird for a gap in the treacherous cliffs and sailed into King Haakon Sound

on the west coast of the island. They were all in a bad way, soifne almost covered with salt water boils, and three of the party were too weak to co on. They managed to beach the boat, drag it into a cave and turned it over as a shelter for the worn out men. Shackleton, Worsley and Crean then made their epic crossing of the unknown and unmapped glacial heights of South Georgia in a superb effort to get to one of the Norwegian whaling stations on the east coast. It was a miracle of mountaineering. How, for 36 hours they battled on, overtaken by darkness and enshrouded in mountain mists; and how, in the diffused moonlight, they became aware of a Fourth Presence moving along with them—a Divine Presence leading them on—to safety. The Fourth Presence That Shackleton was conscious of Divine guidance, not only in this instance, but during his many expeditions, may be read in his book "South" and Worsley. the practical prosaic sailor, observes in his stirring narrative—"Shaekleton's Boat Journey"— "While writing this seven years after, each step of that journey comes back clearly, and even now I again find myself counting our party —Shackleton, Crean and I and —who was the other? Of course, there were only three, but it is strange that in mentally reviewing the crossing we should always think of a fourth . . . And three or four I weeks afterwards Sir Ernest and I, ' comparing notes, found that we each i had a strange feeling that there had been a fourth in our party, and Crean later confessed to the same feelI ing . . j These three gallant sailormen spent ' four winter months making gruel* | line voyages in four different vessels to "reach" Elephant Island. Their fourth attempt, was successful. Not a Man Ix>st Havinc left Punta Arenas in a tiny Chilean " Government steamer, the ! Yelcho. thev craped through fog and ; pushed through floes until finally they arrived off Wild Beach. Peering tensely through his glasses. " Shackleton counted the I racced-looking shapes scrambling ; from beneath the upturned boats. "Thev're all there. Skipper!" he shouted. "They are all safe!" "Shaekleton's face lit up," says Worsley, "and years seemed to fall off his "age. We three then solemnly shook hands as if we were taking part in some ritual." And now Frank Worsley. the last of that triumphant trio, has crossed the Bar. What a reunion! I can hear Ernest Shaekleton's cheery greeting—"Here we are. Skipper!"— in that" deep resonant voice of his; and Tom Crean's kindly brogue— "Well fare ye, Sorr!" Mavbe I'm dreaming? Maybe I'm not. " To have known such noble souls was a privilege. Their memory jis an inspiration.