IN FROZEN SOUTH

Hawera Star, Volume XLVIII, 27 December 1928, Page 7

IN FROZEN SOUTH

THE BYRD EXPEDITION.

LIFE ON CITY OF NEW YORK. VIVID PEN PICTURE. •Jruled l’ res# AwociaUcm—By Electric TelegrapH Ccxiyrigiit.j (Australian. i’lt'te Association.) NEW YORK, Dec. 215. A indiu message from Commander Byrd's ship City of New York, states: “')iir days go. nn btunpiugly. Rumming Ihe pack and pushing huge ice cases aside, now hacking, now struggling ahead, our sturdy little ship makes here way slowly south. Always there is the grumbling, crunching ami hiss of ice alongside, the shouts of ■orders from those conning us through, together with the harking and whining of the impatient dogs. ‘‘Outside is a white field of snow —■ covered ice, smooth or rolling, or broken and twisted into a thousand fragments that have been welded together under the tough winter cold. Life goes gaily, nevertheless. Busy •with their many tasks or resting in their bunks between watches, the men joke and laugh at each other, hurl good-natured jibes over mistakes, or break into song from sheer lightheartedness. There is much humour in the heterogeneous crew, and thus the fact of scientists and stokers eating side by side tends to cement that good fellowship which finds refuge in the banter at each other's .foibles. AYe would be very uncomfortable if we could' not laugh. As it is, no mope loyal and unselfish crew ever sailed the sea. This is evident in that queerway a man will show consideration for another's feelings or do something to help him. IX THE I’D RECAST I. E.

"Down in the tiny forecastle forward of the larger forecastle- and messrooin, in the midst of a sever© storm .the first mate is playing his big accordeon to delight those around him. It is a ‘‘small room, with four large bunks along each side, in two tiers. An electric bulb shines yellow through the smoke of many pipes. The blue haze against the ceiling, curling round the ponderous beams and elbows, is thick, like snow and the fog outside, make dim the corners of the room. There is a litter of packing cases, bags and suit cases on flie floor, which is paved with bits of paper, string, matches and things which' tired men drop and forget to pick up. Hanging from the partitions and ihe ceilings and hooks and strings are hoots, lanterns, bags and bits of clothing, heavy coats and oilskins. There is a. smell of dampness and tobacco and the musty odour of boots. Some pictures are tacked on the inner walls of the bunk —smiling faces of women looking down on one of the most masculine places on earth —a ship’s forecastle. MEMORIES. '

“Oid Martin Ronnie, the sailmakcr, across the. way, leans on his sawing machine, a. smile creasing liis leather cheek on. each side of his beaked nose', his. eyes blinking continuously as if he wore about to fall asleep. ‘.Walrus* wo call .him. Bern© Balchen, the aviator,' sprawls on a .pile of bags, contentedly listening, and Babe Smith, another >pilo[t,-ivtretolio-s his long legs half-wa.v across tb© room, caressing the bowl of his pipe with grimy hands. ‘That is good/ ays Balchen, with a. characterisitie nod. of Lis head, as Storm finishes playing something reminiscent of his homeland, and his- face slowly relaxes in a half smile.

•‘There is- something very fine about this man. whose life has been spent wresting a living from the eternal ice of the north. Gentleness and courtesy are more marked . because of his rugged strength. He makes a. gav song, his grey eves smiling at us as. lie moves his head in time to the music and out bodiesi unconsciously sway, and our feet tan the floor. •'The " hole forecaKitlo sways sideways and slides off again, and a rmuh-' ting, tearing wound comes through .llio planks.- No one pays any attention. 1 We are. used to -jl> now. Through iho open floor in thejarger jVHcni'sb'.e, wjbi.-eh rumt ahnc-.-i 1 . to- aimkliships, can he scon, the rompanionira.v stops coming down troim the hatch. The smoke* blows through and flows upwards, to be torn apart in eddies by the cold air rushing down. EATING AND SLEEPING. i “A: long mesw. table .is on the xide. Tn this large room eveiyine, including Commander Gy id, eats, and around the sides are bunks for off men. The light from the hatch and a 1 few bulbs illuminates! the, forward end, but tile room fades a, wav into dense -shadow, front which: comes the- sound of, men aligning or laughiu<r as they await tlveir turn at the tables. “The dishes, .clatter and there are cries or •more soup,’ and demands to know what- 'in the blazes’ became of the butter?

■ “Even during meals some men aro steeping behind curtains: of nondescript material which, cut off some of the light. Wfi eat in three messes, and the long table is Wiled each time, * Charles, the major do-mo. 'having brought' order out of the chaos which existed- at first--when everyone tried to eat at once-. He, is resplendent, in dundreary whiskers and catrio,y a, towel of indeterminate grey, around his neck. His. hands aro the cleanest aboard, for which all are tliankfu'l. as* if is Charley who dips out. the soup and passes the cake-. “Syd G reason and Dick Co liter, the. assistant steward, help .him. Syd rushing food from the galley and Dick washing dishes. The whip lurches against an ice-cake and Lofgren spills his soup on someone’s ’hair and down liis neck. While the sprinkled -one roars pidtureisque objections'. Lofgren calmly mops* up hisi victim with a dish, towel. WITH THE COOK.

“Stumble up tne steps and you find the decks littered with boxes and dog crates. The eases of stores are opened there because there is no other place to open them. This accumulated confusion is cleared away on one side so that the galley may be reached. A breath of warm air. laden with the smell of roasting meat and an appetising odour -of new bread, floats out of Ibe open door. It is warm in there, and good shelter from the chill wind that blows off the ice. Someone is generally hugging the stove, /chatting witli George Tennant, the cook. .Round and benign, and with a calm which, nothing can disturb. George smiles upon all who come and discusses in a low monotone, which never varies, the incomprehensible things which men do outside the galley—his ordained worm. “No matter bow we roll, with watev sloshing about his ankles, imperturbably he turns out good things to cat.