CITY OF NEW YORK SAILS.

Timaru Herald, Volume CXXV, Issue 18500, 22 February 1930, Page 17 (Supplement)

CITY OF NEW YORK SAILS.

Byrd Homeward Bound

’PLANES LEFT BEHIND. (By Russell Owen—Copyrighted 1923. by “ New York Times ” Company, and “ St. Louis Post-Despatch.”) BAY OF WHALES, February 19. The City of New York was no Sooner alongside the ice here than the gear piled at the spot was tumbled aboard. It came over the side in a steady stream, records and scientific gear first, then personal baggage and finally the other things, which were piled up in between the decks until it was full to the hatch. All night the loading went on and by breakfast this morning it was finished, except for a few things which did not long delay the ship. There was need for haste because the season is getting late and the ice pack has not disappeared this year. Breakfast was a sadly • interrupted meal, however, because the arriving mail was distributed then. There were bags and bags of it. It had been pilcu in Admiral Byrd’s cabin to keep it dry and it seemed as if there would be no end to the amount of letters and bundles. The men staggered away from the door with bags they could hardly lift. Even then there was not time at first to read the fetters. The men grabbed a handful of them, scanned the handwriting, and then hurriedly stuck them in their pockets until the ship would be at sea and there would be time to look them over at leisure, at least for those who would not be seasick, and most of us Barrier lubbers, who have been afloat for a year but might as well have been on land, expect to be indisposed to a greater or less degree almost immediately.

Two Giant Birds. Just before the camp was finally deserted, Admiral Byrd and Captain M’Kinley hauled down the flag which had flown over the camp ever since the sun came up. They saluted it and then Admiral Byrd turned towards the hill on which lay his two planes, which had carried him and his men to the South Pole, and on other flights, and with a wave of his hand, half salute and half farewell, turned away from them.

He hated to leave them, but there was no way out of it .They are perched on the sky, like two giant birds resting. The ship bears the marks of her battle with the ice. All along her sides the sheathing is cut and scarred where blocks of ice hit her in the gales, and holes were punched right through her bulwarks. Captain Melville stated:— “One more day and we would have to turn north and run out of it. She could not have stood much more.”

Both Captain Melville and Captain Johansen, the ice pilot were enthusiastic about the ship. They doubted if another could have stood the battering she received and come through. Byrd was as pleased with the way the crew had handled her and stuck by their guns in difficulties. “We got along well until the 7th,” said Captain Melville, “when a gale began which lasted all the way to the Barrier. It started with a blizzard and when it was not blowing great guns it was snowing. Ice was forming fast also and through the latter part of it we ran through a lot of that slush. The swell increased and I figured that we were near open water. Finally we came out at night with the gale blowing nearly a hurricane. “I have been around the Horn several times and I never saw such seas as those. To make matters worse big pieces of ice were being thrown about. They lifted high above the rail when the seas roared alongside, and I admit I was nervous about them. If the ship had fallen off and some of these chunks had come aboard, they might have sunk us.

“Finally we decided to turn tail to the storm and run for shelter. It took nearly an hour to get around, but we made it and then ran for three hours to the north-west until we got back into the pack and the slush ice and hove to in a clear place in the lee of the ice.

Gale Moderates. “The next day, the Bth, the gale began to moderate a little and we made our way out and again started south. We had to run through sixteen miles of pack and slush again before reaching open water, and came out in longitude 177 and latitude 69 degree 15 minutes south. From that time we have seen only a few scattered bergs, but we have had no observation from the 11th. to the 16th.

“The ship began to ‘ice up’ on the 13th. Of course, we had some ice before, but it was not serious. From then on it began to gather in earnest. The crew worked all the time, chopping and smashing it from the sides and from every place they could reach. There were twenty-seven inches of ice on the poop deck when we reached shelter, so you can imagine how much we gathered. It was worst forward, for there we could not get at it. The seas came over solidly and went aft, and the ice Increased until there was a mass around the martingale, which a man could not put his arms around. There must have been twenty tons on the headgear of the ship alone, and that weight made her stick her nose into every sea. I was afraid we might lose the headgear, and if that went it would pull our masts over. It was a tough time. In those days all we could do was to keep her head into the wind. “Even with the engine full ahead, and with no solar observations, and the compass acting crazily—as it always does in these latitudes—it was hard to tell where we were, but it was a shock on the 15th., when we sighted land, to realise how far we had blown off our course. I knew it had happened before under such conditions, but just the same I was disappointed. The weather cleared soon, and then we saw the high peaks of what turned out to be Ross Island. “Once under the lee of the land we got to work chopping away the ice

and must have cleared 200 tons off her, but it was a rough ride while it lasted.” (All rights for publication reserved throughout the World—Wireless to “ New York Times.”)