My father never...
...to any of us, his children,
ever discussed that expedition.
Occasionally,
an odd statement came out...
...but he never let us read his diaries
when he was alive.
They were locked up.
My father never spoke.
He did say they had a tough time.
We were a bit too young
to listen to him.
But apart from that at all,
I never heard him speak much about it.
The Imperial
Trans-Antarctic Expedition...
...under the leadership of polar explorer
Sir Ernest Shackleton...
...would have been the last great
journey in the heroic Age of Discovery.
It was a daring scheme.
A small party was to cross
the Antarctic continent for the first time.
According to legend...
...Shackleton announced the expedition
in a now-famous advertisement.
"Men wanted for hazardous journey.
Small wages, bitter cold...
...long months of complete darkness...
...constant danger,
safe return doubtful.
Honor and recognition
in case of success. Ernest Shackleton. "
My grandfather, Col. Orde-Lees,
was always looking for an opportunity...
...to do something exceptional.
And such an ad would have been catnip
to my grandfather.
He couldn't resist it.
Chippy McNish saw
an advertisement in the paper...
...looking for men to go to Antarctica...
...and it said that you might not return.
So he went and seen about it
and got there.
Five thousand men...
...from sailors to Cambridge-educated
scientists, responded.
Like Ernest Shackleton, they were
drawn by hopes of adventure and glory.
I had a dream when I was ...
...that someday I would go to
the region of ice and snow...
...and go on and on till I came
to one of the poles of the Earth.
Exploration had earned Shackleton
fame and a knighthood...
...but he had still
not realized his dream.
Twice before, he had set out
to claim the South Pole...
...and twice
he had returned defeated...
...ultimately losing this prize
to Norwegian Roald Amundsen.
Shackleton's new venture
captured the British imagination.
Not all, however, were impressed.
First Lord of the Admiralty
Winston Churchill, for one...
...viewed the famous explorer
as a mere adventurer...
...and dismissed his latest project.
"Enough life and money has been spent
on this sterile quest, " he wrote.
"The pole has already been discovered.
What is the use of another expedition?"
Nevertheless, in August , after
seven frantic months of preparation...
...Shackleton and his crew of men
were poised for departure.
But even as his ship set sail...
...the world in which Shackleton's dream
had been conceived was coming apart.
World w*r I broke out in Europe.
Shackleton offered his ship and men
to Britain's w*r effort.
The Admiralty declined the offer
in a single word: "Proceed. "
Shackleton's ship, Endurance,
was named for his family motto:
"By endurance we conquer. "
The phrase that summed up
Shackleton's own drive and resilience.
He was determined not to repeat
earlier mistakes...
...that had cost him the prize
of the South Pole.
Following the successful Norwegians...
...Shackleton brought along
Canadian sled dogs.
Food supplies would also be depoted
for the six-man sledging party...
...that would make the -mile journey
across the Antarctic continent.
Shackleton's own ship
would approach Antarctica...
...from the ice-strewn waters
of the little-known Weddell Sea.
The sea's gateway was the island
of South Georgia...
...the Endurance's last port of call.
An outpost of humanity
amidst the frozen wastes...
...the island was home
to small whaling communities...
...run by company men.
A local priest romantically
described these whalers...
...as a "motley race of former noblemen
and other fallen creatures...
...who now strip blubber or render oil.
Many, if not most, are at odds with life. "
Ernest Shackleton had something in
common with these loners and outsiders.
Born in Ireland, he had married the
daughter of a well-to-do English lawyer...
...but he was an indifferent
husband and father.
A restless soul, he had always been
happiest on his far-flung expeditions.
He once wrote to his wife:
"Sometimes I think I am no good
at anything but being away in the wilds. "
Shackleton was not your -to- man,
your commuting type.
He wanted to be a great man. He was
searching for greatness, for reputation.
And in a sense, I think
he would have stuck at nothing...
...to achieve fame and fortune.
For all of November,
Shackleton and his crew waited...
...hoping that unusually icy conditions
in the Weddell Sea that austral spring...
...would improve.
Expedition photographer Frank Hurley
began his record...
...by capturing images of exotic wildlife
for an eager British audience.
The sale of film and photo rights...
...had been crucial
to financing the costly venture.
Perce Blackborow,
a young Welsh stowaway...
...sometimes served
as Hurley's assistant.
Blackborow had fallen in love
with the Endurance...
...when she had docked in Buenos Aires
on her way south.
Mrs. Chippy,
the carpenter's popular tomcat...
...also along for the ride, had fallen
overboard on the outward journey.
The ship had turned around
to pick him up.
The crew took advantage of their last
opportunity to send letters home.
Navigator Huberht Hudson
wrote his father:
"Dear old Dad,
just a line before we sail.
We've had a very good time so far,
and I think we shall do well.
I hope to be home again within months
and go straight to the front.
What a glorious age we live in!"
By early December,
Shackleton could delay no longer...
...if he were to take advantage
of the Antarctic summer.
All his resources had been committed
to the expedition...
...and behind him, Europe was at w*r.
Twice before, he had seen
his dream snatched from him.
He was now years old,
and this was his last chance.
On December , , the Endurance
left the island and headed south.
On the third day,
they encountered the enemy.
The huge, compacted chunks
of surface water known as "pack ice. "
The pack stretched to the horizon...
...broken only by gaps of open water
known as leads.
The challenge would be to navigate
the shifting, -mile tangle of leads...
...all the way to the continent.
Dr. Alexander Macklin, a Scottish
surgeon and one of the dog minders...
...recorded his observations of the ship's
high-spirited captain, Frank Worsley.
Worsley specialized in ramming,
and I have a sneaking suspicion...
...that he often went out of his way
to find a nice piece of floe...
...at which he could drive
at full speed and cut in two.
He loved to feel the shock,
the riding up...
...and the sensation as the ice gave
and we drove through it.
Some days,
the ship was held up by ice.
On others, she made long runs
in open water.
After six weeks of travel, the Endurance
was only miles from the continent...
...when she entered a field of heavy
brash ice, slowing the ship to a crawl.
Capt. Worsley
recorded a fateful decision.
The character of the pack has again
changed. The floes are very thick.
We cannot push through except
with a very great expenditure of power.
We therefore prefer
to lie to for a while...
...to see if the pack opens at all
when this northeast wind clears.
When day broke, the men found the ice
had closed around the ship.
No water was visible in any direction.
As the days passed,
the ice showed no sign of relenting.
The event that sealed their fate
was recalled years later...
...in a radio interview by expedition
meteorologist Leonard Hussey.
On the of February, ,
the temperature suddenly dropped...
...from degrees above zero
to degrees below...
...and the whole sea froze over
and we froze in with it.
An unexpected lead opened up
yards ahead...
...offering a chance
to reach open water.
Of course we had no expl*sive
to blast our way out.
We just had picks and shovels.
For hours,
the men attacked the ice.
Frank Hurley, who filmed the men's
exhausting bid for freedom...
...wrote in his diary:
All hands hard at it till midnight...
...when a survey is made
of the remaining two-thirds.
It is reluctantly determined
to relinquish the task...
...as the remainder of the ice
is unworkable.
They were trapped until spring,
some seven months away.
Beyond even radio contact, no one
in the world knew where they were.
They had been thwarted only
one day's sail from their destination.
In his diary, Dr. Macklin wrote:
It was more than tantalizing.
It was maddening.
Shackleton, at this time, showed
one of his sparks of real greatness.
He did not rage at all, or show outwardly
the slightest sign of disappointment.
He told us simply and calmly
that we must winter in the pack.
Never lost his optimism
and prepared for the winter.
Optimism was at the very core
of Ernest Shackleton's personality.
Known to all as "the Boss, "
he was a born leader...
...who was, from his youth, driven
by a romantic quest for adventure.
At , he had shipped out
as a cabin boy.
By , he was certified as a master
in the merchant marine service.
Shortly after,
he was chosen as an officer...
...on Robert Falcon Scott's
historic first voyage.
There, he saw tensions flare among men
of different personalities and classes...
...thrown together in close quarters...
...and watched as morale eroded
under Scott's inadequate leadership.
Shackleton knew he could do better.
Now his own expedition
was in trouble...
...trapped in the pack ice,
drifting helplessly north.
The crew, restless.
Col. Thomas Orde-Lees,
the storekeeper and motor expert...
...irritated everyone
with his superior airs.
In a characteristic diary entry,
he observed:
I have made a point of sitting
at the same table as the th officer...
...and the carpenter,
who is a perfect pig in every way.
I've done this to try and accommodate
oneself to ideas and ways...
...less refined than one's own.
Others shared his distaste
for mingling with different classes.
McNish, the carpenter, had blunt words
of his own for the superior motor expert.
Orde-Lees is laid up with a sprained
back. He was shoveling snow yesterday.
The first work he has done
since we left London.
Shackleton insisted the men keep
to a strict daily routine...
...and carefully monitored their morale.
When dissension threatened, Shackleton
was prepared to act forcefully.
John Vincent, a heavyweight wrestling
champion caught bullying the sailors...
...was summoned to Shackleton's cabin.
He left demoted.
Everyone, including the Boss himself,
would work together.
Seaman Walter How remembered:
Everybody mucked in. It didn't matter
who they were or what they were.
Their qualifications
didn't count for anything.
Scientist James Wordie found himself
assigned to a cleaning brigade.
Everybody was prepared
to join in whatever was happening...
...whether it be scrubbing the floor...
And I think Shackleton himself,
with his Irish background...
...and ability to communicate and join in,
made everybody feel that they were one.
It was a team
and not a them-and-us situation.
He also communicated to his men...
...that he put them
above the object of the expedition.
The object was great,
but they were more important.
Second-in-command Frank Wild
had been with Shackleton in ...
...when the Boss,
running out of supplies...
...gave up the pole in order
to save his party from certain death.
Wild had watched him turn back
just miles short of the prize.
One night, with both men
close to starvation...
...Shackleton had forced upon Wild
a biscuit from his own meager rations.
Wild recorded:
I do not suppose that anyone else
can thoroughly realize...
...how much generosity
and sympathy was shown by this.
I do. By God,
I shall never forget it.
The floating landscape
convulsed into pressure ridges...
...became more difficult to negotiate.
Ice claimed their entire horizon.
As they drifted, Shackleton was mindful
of the fate of the ship Belgica.
She also had been frozen
for a winter on the pack...
...and her crew had succumbed
to infighting, and ultimately, insanity.
The men turned to the dogs, who quickly
became indispensable companions.
Hurley recorded:
A few words about my dogs.
Shakespeare, aliases Tatchco,
the Holy Hound, and Bug Whiskers...
...is a magnificent animal, somewhat
resembling an English sheepdog.
He is a noble creature,
dignified in gait...
...master of the team in battle
and a leader in canine sagacity.
A good leader will ferret out
the best track through broken country...
...will not allow fights in the team,
or indulge in capricious antics.
A team of nine dogs
can haul about pounds.
My team is one of the best.
The birth of four puppies
captivated the entire company.
Tom Crean, tough sailor that he was,
became their adopted father.
The men passed the long months
with soccer matches.
With theatrical evenings...
With weekly gramophone concerts...
...and a memorable
haircutting tournament.
McNish recorded:
We do look a lot of convicts, and we are
not much short of that life at present...
...but still hoping to get
to civilization someday.
By May, they had been trapped
for over three months.
The sun disappeared
beneath the horizon...
...leaving days dark as night
until the end of winter.
The neat piles of sledging supplies...
...mocked Shackleton's ambition
and the dreams of his men.
Meanwhile, ominous forces were at work.
Ice, their old enemy,
menaced the helpless ship.
Under pressure
of the tightly congested pack...
...huge blocks of ice buckled
into ridges, threatening to crush her.
In July, a blizzard raked the Endurance.
As the ice groaned and heaved,
Shackleton paced his cabin.
Capt. Worsley recalled:
He said to me,
"The ship can't live in this, skipper.
It's only a matter of time.
What the ice gets, the ice keeps. "
The Endurance survived, but as winter
turned to spring, assaults continued.
In an interview years later,
sailor Walter How...
...still remembered the ship
staggering under the blows.
The ice got around to the starboard
quarter, and lifted her bodily as it were...
...and then she listed
very heavily to port...
...and the timbers began
to crack and groan.
Did you hear the timbers
going as the ice tided?
You couldn't avoid it. It was there like
heavy fireworks and blasting of g*ns.
Together, Shackleton and Wild
surveyed ice damage.
Orde-Lees recorded:
Sir Ernest must have gone through
terrible anxiety lately...
...though he is so inscrutable that no one
could have detected anything unusual.
I know for a fact that he did not once
lie down for three days...
...and I don't think he had undressed
for days.
Tirelessly, the men worked
to cut the ice away from the ship.
Even the usually stoic McNish
was shaken. He wrote:
There were times when we thought it
was not possible the ship could stand it.
Everyone got our warm clothes put up
in as small a bundle as possible.
I have placed my loved one's photos
inside Bible.
In late October, the ice struck
with renewed force...
...opening planks of the starboard side.
Water flooded the hold.
All hands manned the pumps for three
days and nights to save the Endurance.
Hurley wrote:
The ship groans and quivers.
Windows splinter
while the deck timbers gape and twist.
Amid these profound
and overwhelming forces...
...we are the absolute embodiment
of helpless futility.
On October , , months
after their entrapment in the ice...
...Shackleton gave the order
to abandon ship.
Seaman How recalled:
Shackleton sent Frank Wild
along forward...
...who explained to us
that it was a case of "get out. "
Previously, Sir Ernest
had probably seen the red light...
...and sledges were packed
with as much stores as possible.
You've got to remember that a sailor
is a sailor and that's his ship, his home.
Once he's off that ship,
he's at a loss.
The adventurers of the expedition...
...the people that expected to stay,
and knew what they were up against...
...like Tom Crean, Worsley,
Shackleton himself, Wild...
...they adapted a little bit easier...
...but it was still tough.
They had been reduced to a fraction
of their original provisions...
...and to three of the ship's
four lifeboats.
It was minus degrees Fahrenheit.
Tents and clothing had been salvaged...
...but there were not enough
fur sleeping bags to go around.
William Bakewell, an American sailor,
recalled the lottery Shackleton arranged.
There was crooked work
in the drawing...
...as Sir Ernest, Mr. Wild,
Capt. Worsley and other officers...
...all drew wool bags.
The fine warm fur bags
went to the men under them.
In the chill morning, Shackleton gathered
the company to explain his plan.
Dr. Macklin recorded:
As always with him,
what had happened had happened.
Without emotion, melodrama
or excitement he said:
"Ship and stores have gone,
so now we'll go home. "
This calm front belied the night
Shackleton passed, pacing the ice alone.
The thoughts that came to me
in the darkness were not cheerful.
The task now was to secure
the safety of the party...
...and to that I must apply
every bit of knowledge...
...that experience of the Antarctic
had given me.
There is nothing that can crush a man...
...as to see his dreams
crumble to the dust.
But on the other hand, he realized...
...if the one goal had disappeared,
we'll have another one.
And so, if I can't cross the continent,
I'm going to bring all my men back alive.
Because you mustn't forget
that polar exploration was littered...
...with dead bodies.
This almost fanatic... It was a fanatic
desire to bring his men back alive.
This then became the driving force.
It was the only thing he cared about.
That change from aiming to attain
what you had set out...
...to extricating yourself from defeat...
...is a strain that has broken many a man.
It did not break Shackleton.
Shackleton's first impulse was
to march to the nearest land...
...some miles to the west.
The men were allowed pounds
of possessions, with few exceptions.
Hussey was allowed to keep his banjo...
...which Shackleton called
"vital mental medicine. "
But there could be
no extra mouths to feed.
On Shackleton's orders, three puppies
and Mrs. Chippy...
...were shot.
I feel sure that it is the right thing
to attempt a march.
If we can make
or miles a day...
...our chance of reaching safety
will be greatly increased.
It will be better for the men
to feel they are on their way to land...
...than to sit down and wait.
But after three days of hard slogging,
they were still within sight of the ship.
The march to land had proved futile.
Now there was nothing to do
but watch and wait.
Food and supplies were salvaged
from the collapsing ship.
The men scoured her broken deck...
...retrieving what they could
and hauling it back to camp.
Frank Hurley conducted a salvage
operation to his submerged darkroom.
He wrote:
I hacked through
the thick walls of the refrigerator...
...to retrieve the negatives
stored therein.
They were located beneath feet
of mushy ice...
...and by stripping to the waist
and diving under, I hauled them out.
Together he and Shackleton
selected negatives...
...and sealed them in tin canisters.
The remaining ,
Shackleton had Hurley destroy...
...so he would not be tempted
to recover them later.
Hurley retained a single vest-pocket
Kodak camera and three rolls of film.
On November , the broken ship
sank for good beneath the ice.
Shackleton recorded simply:
At p. m. she went down.
I cannot write about it.
Now nothing remained
of the Endurance and her long battle...
...except Hurley's images.
Once the ship had gone,
my grandfather, I know...
...felt ill, not at ease on the ice.
It was a new thing.
I mean, he'd seen snow as a kid...
...but never set foot on an iceberg
like that. So it was a new...
...a new ballgame, so to speak.
In their minds was,
like any human being, I think:
"Are we going to get out alive?"
The drift of the pack had carried the men
miles since they were trapped.
Now they hoped the same drift
would bring them to land.
If not, they were bound for open sea.
Hurley wrote:
It is beyond conception even to us that
we are dwelling on a colossal ice-raft...
...with feet of frozen water separating
us from fathoms of ocean.
And drifting along under the caprices of
wind and tides, to heaven knows where.
Timbers from the ship were used
to build a new home: Ocean Camp.
The wheelhouse became the new galley.
Hurley ingeniously converted part
of the ship's boiler into a stove...
...which was fuelled by penguin skin
and seal blubber.
A daily routine was established.
Hunting for penguins and seals
became the main activity.
Each man knew rescue was impossible.
They were managing to stay alive,
but to what end?
They had a pretty miserable time
on the ice.
But having said that, in the end...
...at every turn...
...Shackleton's enemy was not the ice...
...but it was his own people
in the sense it was their morale.
That was the foe. He had to prevent
their morale from crumbling.
The ice was nothing.
Anybody can deal with the ice...
...but to deal with the human spirit,
that is very difficult.
One month after abandoning ship...
...a bout of sciatica sent Shackleton
to his tent for two weeks.
Emerging after his forced confinement...
...he made the surprising decision
to attempt a second march to land.
In his memoir he related:
A buzz of pleasurable anticipation went
round the camp at this announcement.
Nothing was further from the truth.
The men dragged the loaded lifeboats
weighing more than a ton apiece...
...hacking their way through pressure
ridges that obstructed their passage.
At times they trudged
up to their knees in snow.
On the fourth day
McNish dug in his heels.
Earlier, he had proposed to build a sloop
from the wreckage of the Endurance.
Shackleton had rejected the plan.
Now McNish openly rebelled
and refused to continue.
His duty to obey orders, he asserted,
had ended with abandonment of the ship.
Chippy was a man who didn't like
to be told what to do.
You know what I mean?
It's all on who you were.
If Chippy didn't like it,
Chippy would tell you.
That's just the kind of man he was.
I mean, authority meant nothing to him.
Shackleton called the men together
and read ship's articles...
...dramatically asserting his command.
Despite the loss of the ship,
he announced...
...all men would be paid wages
until they reached port.
McNish backed down.
Mutiny was averted.
No leader on the edge
of survival can tolerate...
...the least threat to his authority.
And Shackleton, in fact, was prepared
to sh**t the carpenter if necessary.
And he would have been justified
because there was a hidden danger here.
That the carpenter was only voicing...
...the opinions of two or three
other members of the crew...
...and more for all we know.
And had this not been
crushed immediately...
...the whole party
would have disintegrated.
Two days after the standoff
with McNish...
...Shackleton was forced
to realize his own error.
He called a halt to the march.
In his diary Shackleton wrote:
Turned in but could not sleep.
Am anxious.
Everyone working well
except the carpenter:
I shall never forget him
in this time of strain and stress.
Shackleton had put down the rebellion...
...but he could not quell all doubts
that threatened to erode his authority.
A week of backbreaking effort
had left his men worse off than before.
Precious equipment had been left behind.
Life at their new base, Patience Camp,
would be much harder.
More questions arose
about the Boss's judgment.
Food was running out,
but Shackleton had imposed...
...strict limitations on the amount
of penguin and seal meat stockpiled...
...insisting he would get them
off the ice before winter.
Lionel Greenstreet, the first officer,
openly questioned the Boss' philosophy:
His sublime optimism all the way through
is, to my mind, absolute foolishness.
Everything was going to turn out all right
and no notice was taken of things...
...possibly turning out otherwise.
And here we are.
Shackleton retorted:
You're a bloody pessimist.
For once, Orde-Lees voiced
the fears of many.
They had to have meat,
he put on record...
...in the event of another winter
on the floes.
It was important to have,
just like ammunition, to have supplies.
And the famous thing,
the statement of Wellington, wasn't it?
That "the army marches on its stomach"?
That seemed to him to be elementary.
In the end, it was the Boss's vision
that prevailed.
Shackleton's great characteristic
was the ability to compel loyalty...
...even against his men's
better judgment.
Now this has got to do...
...with some force of character,
some flame that burns within a man.
Game grew scarcer.
There was no food for the dogs.
Shackleton gave Wild
the unhappy command...
...to sh**t some of the dog teams.
Hurley paid a last tribute
to his old companion.
Hail to the thee, old leader Shakespeare.
I shall ever remember thee:
Fearless, faithful and diligent.
Within weeks, the remaining teams
were shot, and this time eaten.
McNish wrote:
Frank Wild shot the last
of our faithful dogs...
...of which we kept
the five young ones for food.
And their flesh tastes a treat
after living so long on seal meat...
...and this last days
on almost nothing.
As the men drifted
to the edge of the pack...
...the ice began to disintegrate
around them.
One day Orde-Lees
awoke feeling seasick.
The ice had become so thin that the swell
of the ocean could be felt through it.
Soon, nothing would be left
beneath them.
Finally, Shackleton felt
that they had to get onto their boats...
...and make for an island
to escape from the ice.
The problem then was, where were
they going to go?
And there's an intriguing collection
of island silhouettes...
...which Worsley took with him so that
when they saw a little land...
...they knew where they were.
Otherwise how did they know
what they would see?
Their navigation, however brilliantly
it was done, was primitive.
And they embarked on this
boat journey from the ice...
...not knowing where
they were going to end up.
Several landfalls were possible.
The closest were Clarence and Elephant
Islands, some miles to the north.
Deception Island,
over miles to the west...
...was known to have supplies
for shipwrecked mariners.
Shackleton chose Deception Island.
Their three small lifeboats
would carry all men...
...on a journey that would last
no one knew how long.
Sailor William Bakewell
recalled the landmark day of departure:
Our first day in the water...
...was one of the coldest
and most dangerous of the expedition.
The ice was running riot.
It was a hard race
to keep our boats in the open leads.
We had many narrow escapes
from being crushed...
...when the larger masses
of the pack would come together.
During the first few days
of their journey...
...they pulled their boats
from the water each evening to sleep.
Without the movie camera
and with little film to spare...
...it would be left to artist
George Marston...
...to record their tenuous camps
on the drifting ice.
Leonard Hussey and Walter How
recalled the night when disaster struck:
We were drifting over the sea on a piece
of ice and we were cold and frozen.
Pitch dark night once...
...and the ice split right across
under the men's tent.
There were eight of us turned in there.
One poor chap, name of Holness...
...him and his sleeping bag
dropped into the drink.
Shackleton looked into the crack...
...and he saw a man
floating in his sleeping bag.
Shackleton grabbed Holness and
lifted him in his bag up onto the ice...
...knowing he could survive
only minutes in the freezing water.
Seconds later the ice-edges
came together with tremendous force.
I remember Shackleton saying
to Holness, "Are you all right?"
"Yes, sir," he said, "I'm quite all right.
Only thing I regret, my bloody tobacco's
down there in the drink. "
Shackleton recorded:
Constant rain and snow squalls blotted
out the stars and soaked us through.
Occasionally the shadows of silver,
snow and fulmar petrels flashed close.
And all around we could hear
the K*llers blowing...
...their short, sharp hisses sounding
like sudden escapes of steam.
The sheer hardship of the rowing.
The sheer hardship of the rowing.
My father said that
at the end of a watch...
...your hands had to be
chipped off the oars.
And it's very hard to imagine
what it must be like...
...when you try to get some sleep.
Your hands must be totally frozen.
Your clothes are probably soaked
and you're hungry.
The days passed
in painful rowing and bailing.
Stable ice could not be found...
...and nights were now spent
sitting helpless in the black sea.
To complete their misery...
...many of the men
were now suffering from dysentery.
I think they only had one hot drink a day.
And he said that they
only ate a ship's biscuit...
...which in his own phrase:
"You look at it for breakfast, you suck it
for lunch and you eat it for dinner. "
What kept them from cracking...
...was Shackleton's sheer willpower,
his leadership.
This flame that burns within him.
And this was manifested
in different ways.
Either it was Shackleton playing...
...the consummate mariner
at the prow of the boat...
...leading his little squadron to safety,
or it was mothering his men.
Suddenly turning around and comforting
somebody or preparing food for him.
And acting, basically,
like a hen with one chicken.
And the next minute he was a martinet,
driving his men on.
It's hard to imagine...
...and yet they probably were seeing
things of great beauty on that journey.
We were all laced together,
the three boats...
...on account of the bad weather,
and during the night several whale...
...I don't know what species,
were blowing around us.
And had they gone
over one of our tow ropes...
...the three boats would have
certainly disappeared.
And also us.
For days and nights with no sleep,
the helmsmen manned the tillers.
When Worsley was relieved of his shift,
he had to be lain in the boat...
...and opened slowly from his
crouching position like a jackknife.
Overwhelmed by misery and fear,
some of the men broke down and wept.
Now Shackleton knew
he must make for land at any cost.
Changing course,
they struck out for Elephant Island.
On the evening of the sixth day,
the skies to the northwest darkened...
...and a gale swept down.
Swamped with water, one of the
lifeboats was in danger of sinking.
Orde-Lees, who up until then
had disdained to row...
...rose to the crisis
and bailed for his companions' lives.
My grandfather was always a man
who wanted to do a feat.
Rowing, there's no
possibility of doing a feat.
I mean, everybody's
on the same oar rowing, like that.
Bailing out? Saving everybody's life?
Gosh, I mean, that's sort of...
...a part made in heaven
for my grandfather...
...because everybody would be aware
he'd been up all night bailing them out.
So gentlemen don't row...
...but by Jove, they'd do anything
necessary to save people's lives.
When dawn broke, Shackleton recorded:
The weather was very thick
in the morning.
Indeed, at a. m.
we were under the cliffs...
...which plunged sheer to the sea
before we saw them.
Elephant Island.
The men had been
seven bleak days at sea...
...and over five months on drifting ice.
It was a year and four months
since they had touched land.
With frostbitten fingers,
Hurley recorded the landing.
In his diary, Hurley wrote:
Many of the party were emaciated
by exhaustion, fatigue and exposure.
Many suffered from temporary
aberration, or shivering as with palsy.
The men reeled
along the beach as if drunk...
...some burying their faces in the stones.
Wordie recalled more chilling behavior.
Some fellows were half-crazy.
One got an axe and did not stop
until he had k*lled about seals.
Shackleton ordered food prepared.
It was the first hot meal in three days.
Hurley described the first night.
Tents were hastily erected,
all turned in...
...and almost instantly
were deep in slumber.
How delicious to wake in one's sleep...
...and listen to the croaks of penguins
mingling with the sea.
To fall asleep and awaken again,
and feel this is real.
We have reached land.
Land, such as it was, was a low sliver
of beach that offered no shelter.
Two days later, Shackleton led the men...
...to a second location
on the western side of the island.
The new campsite was called
Cape Wild, after Frank Wild.
To the sailors it was Cape Bloody Wild.
The boats landed in sleet and rain.
By night a gale blew up,
ripping one of the tents to shreds...
...and blowing equipment out to sea.
Men crawled under the boats for shelter,
and lay shivering in their tunics...
...as the wind heaped snow upon them.
The blizzard raged for five days.
I think I spent, this morning,
the most unhappy hour of my life.
All attempts seemed so hopeless...
...and fate seemed absolutely
determined to thwart us.
Men sat and cursed, not loudly,
but with an intensity that showed...
...their hatred of this island
on which we had sought shelter.
Shackleton had saved his men
in the sense he'd got them all alive...
...out of the ice and on to terra firma.
But now how to get back to civilization?
Elephant Island was off...
...any conceivable shipping route.
Not only that, she was nowhere near...
...the routes of the whalers and sealers
that used to come down there.
So somehow Shackleton
had to get his men...
...to a port of call, even if it was only
a lonely island where the sealers came.
Staring down impossible odds,
Shackleton made a bold decision.
He would not wait,
he would sail for rescue.
Cape Horn, the closest land,
was beyond reach...
...as it would mean sailing against
the prevailing wind.
In the path of the westerlies
was the island they'd set out from:
South Georgia.
The plan was made.
Shackleton would take
a -and-a-half-foot-long boat...
... miles across
the world's most dangerous ocean.
Work began immediately
on the James Caird.
Earlier, McNish had raised her gunnels
with wood from packing cases.
Now he scavenged the other
two boats to reinforce her.
The seams were sealed with
Marston's oil paints and seal's blood.
Her deck was canvassed.
It wasn't only that McNish was a good
shipwright, a good ship's carpenter...
...but he appeared to have
something extra.
He had a streak of ingenuity...
...of the real ability to improvise...
...to make something out of nothing.
And I think this is connected with
a strain of perversity, of cussedness.
And here's another paradox:
This was the mutineer who'd come good.
Shackleton chose the strongest and
most seasoned sailors for the journey.
With the greatest pride, McNish recorded
his own inclusion in the -man crew.
He would be joined
by Tom Crean and Tim McCarthy...
...both Irish sailors and stalwarts
of the voyage to Elephant Island.
The demoted boatswain John Vincent
was also redeemed.
Shackleton recognized
his strength and skill...
...the result of years on trawlers in the
brutal conditions of the North Atlantic.
Captain Frank Worsley had navigated
the boats to Elephant Island.
Now he would have to find a tiny speck
of land in a limitless ocean.
Pacing the shore, he checked
and rechecked the chronometer...
...that would be critical to his navigation.
Frank Wild, Shackleton's right-hand,
would be in charge of those left behind.
As the expedition was split
for the first time...
...Wild's unenviable commission
was the care of ...
...demoralized, partially incapacitated
men on a deserted, wind-raked island.
On April , , McNish finished
his work and the weather cleared.
Moored offshore, the Caird was loaded
with tons of stone ballast...
...for stability in the towering waves.
Water from ice laboriously melted
over a blubber flame was stored in kegs.
They took food for four weeks.
Beyond this they knew
they could not survive.
Standing on the beach, Hurley
captured the moment of departure...
...as the men left behind
bravely cheered the Caird on her way.
On board the Caird, Worsley reflected:
The men ashore formed
a pathetic group.
As long as they thought
we could see them...
...they kept up a wonderful appearance
of optimism and heartiness.
Elephant Island receded
into the distance...
...as the Caird departed on a day
of rare sunshine and calm seas.
Soon the Caird was in rougher waters.
By the second day, the weather
had grown severe...
...and water began pouring
into the little boat.
Frank Worsley recalled:
Bruised and soaked with never
a long enough interval...
...for our bodies to warm
our steaming clothes...
...our feet and legs had swelled and
began to be frostbitten...
...with the temperature
at times nearly down to zero.
McNish alone attempted
to keep a sea log...
...but on the ninth day,
he abruptly broke it off.
They worked round the clock
in four-hour shifts...
...three men vainly attempting to sleep
on the rocky ballast below...
...while three others held watch above,
bailing, pumping...
...trimming the sails,
fighting to keep the Caird afloat.
They were in a -foot-
little rowing boat.
And it is absolutely staggering,
the height of the waves.
There were some incredible waves...
...which might nowadays
be called non-negotiable waves...
...where you'd head up to the top...
...and not get over the top
and you'd slide back down.
So it was an extraordinary
journey of survival.
In the end,
everything depended on Worsley.
He had learned to navigate
in the high surf of the South Pacific...
...but nothing could compare
to his present challenge.
To chart the Caird's position...
...Worsley needed to read
the sun's relation to the horizon.
But the sun rarely appeared
in the overcast sky...
...and the horizon became almost
impossible to find behind the waves.
Even to attempt a sextant reading, he had
to be braced by men on either side...
...as the boat heaved and pitched
her way through the water.
You mustn't forget,
every degree mistake you make...
...is miles of latitude.
And they only had
about miles leeway...
...in miles in order to reach safety.
In miles of stormy travel...
...Worsley was able to take
only four sightings.
The remainder of the journey
he navigated by dead reckoning...
...the experienced sailor's instinctive
gauging of speed and direction...
...or "merry guesswork, "
as he called it.
On the Oth day, Worsley believed
that they were a little over halfway.
He recalled:
Two of the party
were very close to death.
Shackleton kept a finger
on each man's pulse.
Whenever he noticed that a man
seemed extra cold and shivered...
...he would immediately order another hot
drink to be prepared and served to all.
He never let the man know
that it was on his account.
Vincent's upper lip was torn away
by a frozen metal cup.
Oh, God, it must have been desperate.
That's all...
It must have been desperate.
My father's ears,
his two ears, suffered frostbite.
They were like bones.
On the evening of May ,
the th day at sea...
...a piece of kelp floated by.
Land was near.
Worsley recalled this moment:
We looked at each other
with cheerful, foolish grins.
The thoughts uppermost were,
"We've done it!"
With land in sight,
new ordeals arose to test their limits.
A wind drove them perilously close
to the island's cliffs.
Soon this wind increased
into hurricane force...
...descending upon them from
the darkening skies.
This is where Worsley
came into his own...
...because he understood the way
a sailing ship worked...
...and so he performed a miracle
with a round-bottomed whaler...
...whose profession was making leeway,
not built for sailing into the wind.
Somehow he clawed his way offshore
and into the wind.
The hurricane raged for nine hours.
Then the wind veered,
carrying them from destruction.
Shackleton recorded:
We stood offshore,
tired almost to the point of apathy.
On the evening of May ,
the th day at sea...
...the James Caird sailed into the
entrance of King Haakon Bay...
...on South Georgia.
In the gathering darkness, the boat ran
in on a swell and touched the beach.
A small stream flowed nearby and
the men fell to their knees and drank.
One of the greatest boat journeys
in modern maritime history had ended.
Above them, the hill was green
with tussock grass...
...the first vegetation they had seen
in months.
McNish recalled:
I went on top of the hill
and had a lay on the grass...
...and it put me in mind
of old times at home...
...sitting on the hillside
looking down at the sea.
Suddenly home, rescue,
seemed possible.
There was only one catch.
The whaling stations lay
on the opposite side of the island.
Neither crew nor boat
were fit for another sea journey.
The island would have to be
crossed on foot.
It was a terrible setback.
I think that most men...
...under those circumstances,
without Shackleton's leadership...
...they might've collapsed morally there
and therefore not survived.
He took it all in a very matter-of-fact way.
He gave the impression that everything
would be all right in the end.
Their single map showed
only the island's coastline.
The interior was unknown.
Icy and forbidding, prey to sudden
blizzards and hurricane-force winds...
...the whalers considered it impenetrable.
This chaos of peaks and glaciers
had never been crossed.
They had just survived days at sea...
...and their feet
were still numb from frostbite.
But if rescue were to be made,
they had to reach the other side.
Shackleton decided to take with him
Crean and Worsley...
...leaving behind the other men
who were not fit for the journey.
Using screws from the Caird,
McNish improvised climbing boots.
The frost of night would harden the snow,
making it easier to cross.
But there could be no stopping,
or they would succumb to the cold.
They were in a race
for their companions' lives.
Too weak to carry anything
but bare necessities...
...the three men took a length of rope...
...and a carpenter's adz
as their only equipment.
Taking advantage of the full moon
and calm weather...
Taking advantage of the full moon
and calm weather...
...they set out at a. m.
for Stromness Whaling Station.
Beneath the deceptive blanketing of snow
lay ice fields pitted with crevasses.
One misstep could end in death.
As the day grew longer...
...they struggled through a bewildering
confusion of ridges and plateaus.
Time after time
they would ascend a summit...
...only to find a precipice
on the other side.
Shackleton recalled:
We were now feeling the strain
of the unaccustomed marching.
We had done little walking since January
and our muscles were out of tune.
By evening, they were again
high on a treacherous pass...
...too steep to climb down.
It was of the utmost importance for us to
get down into the next valley before dark.
The night temperature
at that elevation would be very low.
We had no sleeping bags.
Worsley recorded:
Shackleton said,
"We've got to take a risk.
Are you game? We'll slide. "
Coiling their rope into a pad,
they sat down...
...then pushed off, not knowing what
rocks or razor-sharp ice lay in their path.
We seemed to sh**t into space.
Quite suddenly I felt a glow
and knew that I was grinning.
We finished up at the bottom
in a bank of snow.
We picked ourselves up
and solemnly shook hands all round.
All night into early morning,
they marched on.
Wrote Shackleton:
At a. m., we were at the foot
of the rocky spurs of the range.
We were tired and wind that blew down
from the heights was chilling us.
I thought we might be able
to keep warm and have a rest.
Within minutes,
my two companions were asleep.
I realized it would be disastrous
if we all slumbered together...
...for sleep under such conditions
merges into death.
After five minutes I shook them
into consciousness again...
...told them that they'd slept
for half an hour...
...and gave the word for a fresh start.
By : a. m., they had climbed a ridge...
...that looked down upon a site familiar
from a year and a half earlier:
Fortuna Bay.
Stromness was around the corner.
At in the afternoon on May ...
...Shackleton, Worsley and Crean
stumbled into Stromness Station.
They had been marching for hours.
At the home of Thoralf Sørlle,
the station manager...
...they knocked on the door.
"Who the hell are you?"
Sørlle reportedly asked.
"My name is Shackleton, "
came the answer.
The whaling manager couldn't recognize
them because they were dirty, emaciated.
They were soot-grimed because of living
over blubber stoves for so long.
Their clothes were filthy.
Their hair was uncut.
They were like men
returning from the dead.
That night the weather turned.
Lying in bed in the manager's house...
...Shackleton listened
to snow drive against the window.
Had they been caught in a blizzard,
nothing could have saved them.
Years later, Shackleton
would give a mystical account...
...of the crossing of South Georgia.
I know that during that long
and racking march of hours...
...over the unnamed mountains
and glaciers of South Georgia...
...it seemed to me often
that we were four, not three.
I said nothing to my companions,
but afterwards Worsley said to me:
"Boss, I had a curious feeling
that there was another person with us. "
The fourth man,
I suppose, was the man above.
They must have been deeply religious
at the back of everything.
They must.
Three days after arriving in Stromness...
...Shackleton, Worsley and Crean set out
for Elephant Island in a borrowed ship.
Their three companions back at King
Haakon Bay were given passages home.
miles short of the island...
...the rescue ship was brought
to a halt by their old enemy:
Ice.
There was nothing to do but return.
Over the next four months, Shackleton
made increasingly frantic attempts...
...to get through to his men
on Elephant Island.
At last, in late August...
...the Chilean government loaned him
a small tug called the Yelcho...
...and Shackleton, Worsley and Crean
set out on their fourth rescue attempt.
Elephant Island.
The rescue party was now
at least weeks overdue.
In his diary, Orde-Lees wrote:
August , .
Another wretched day,
very dull and draining.
What little seal meat
we have left is tainted.
We've picked it over so often...
...that nothing but
the most decomposed remains.
The men had passed
a sunless winter...
...living in a small hut
made from the overturned boats.
Twenty-two of us lived
in a tiny, dark little hut.
The weather was just appalling.
Blizzards and snowstorms
almost the whole time.
The great difficulty, of course,
was lack of water.
There was frozen water all round...
...but you can't suck ice
at those temperatures.
It blisters your lips and your tongue...
...as though you'd sucked
a piece of hot iron.
So we'd take a few chips of ice...
...in our sleeping bags with us
at night in a tobacco tin.
And if you lay very still,
a few of the chips would melt...
...and you'd have a spoonful of water
for breakfast in the morning.
Food was very short.
We had little except a little seal
and penguin whenever they came up...
...and Marston had a little cookery book,
from which he'd read one recipe a night.
We all lay around very quietly
and very solemnly...
...suggesting, in turns, improvements
and alterations...
...and when the last man finished...
...we dreamt of the second helpings
we'd refuse when we were back home.
It's difficult to realize
how hungry a man can be.
When we'd eaten our rations...
...and such seals and penguins
as we could catch...
...then and then...
...without any enmity,
we looked at one another.
Each day Wild roused the company
from their bags with the cry:
"Lash up and stow!
The Boss may come today!"
But by the end of August,
even Wild had given up hope...
...that Shackleton would return.
Orde-Lees summarized the situation:
The idea of a ship ever coming now
is getting more and more remote...
...as preparations are being pushed along
for sending one of our two boats.
Wild and four other members
are to go in the Dudley Docker...
...and will make their way from island
to island of the South Shetlands...
...until they reach Deception Island...
...about miles away.
It is a big undertaking.
On August , ...
...the men were gathered in their hut
for a lunch of boiled seal backbone.
Marston and Hurley remained outside
shelling limpets picked in the shallows.
Suddenly, Marston put his head
inside the hut.
Macklin recalled:
Marston burst in asking if it would
not be a good thing to send up smoke.
Wild called out to know
what was the matter.
Marston replied with the magic words:
"A ship!"
From the deck of the Yelcho, Shackleton
scanned Cape Wild through binoculars...
...counting the figures who poured out
of the hut onto the beach.
Frank Worsley recalled:
Two, five, seven,
and then an exultant shout:
"They're all there, skipper.
They're all safe!"
Crean joined us...
...and we were all unable to speak.
All hands were safe.
Not one life had been lost.
An ecstatic welcome
greeted Shackleton in Punta Arenas.
Although Germany
was at w*r with Britain...
...the German community
raised flags of celebration.
The crew of the Endurance returned
to a British nation...
...that little resembled the one
they had left two years before.
When Shackleton
and his men had left England...
...the Great w*r had just started...
...and their minds
were still in Edwardian England.
When they returned to civilization now,
they entered the modern world...
...and the w*r, as it turned out,
was beyond their comprehension.
And because of the dreadful carnage
on the battlefields in Europe...
...Shackleton rather disappeared.
And in any case, he was the wrong
kind of hero for England at the time.
The British wanted dead heroes...
...and they had lots and lots
of dead heroes.
I suspect in ...
...the death of so many people
in the trenches in the w*r...
...made them feel that they had been...
...I could've said, nearly cowards.
That they avoided two years of the w*r
and they were lucky to be alive.
Most of the men
entered the w*r upon their return.
Frank Hurley went off to photograph
the fighting in the trenches.
Tim McCarthy would be k*lled
at sea six weeks after enlisting.
McNish emigrated to New Zealand...
...working on the docks
before suffering a crippling injury.
Most members of the expedition
were awarded the Polar Medal...
...but Shackleton withheld this honor
from McNish and three others.
The carpenter's brief rebellion
on the ice had cost him dearly.
As Shackleton had known...
...the Endurance expedition
had been his last chance at glory.
In , he headed south once more...
...joined by a handful
of the old Endurance crew:
Worsley, Macklin, Green,
Hussey and Frank Wild.
The goal of the expedition was unclear.
All that mattered was
that they were heading south again.
On the evening of his arrival
in South Georgia...
...Shackleton had a heart attack and died.
He was not quite years old.
At the request of his wife...
...his men buried him in the island's
small whaling cemetery.
Bereft, Shackleton's men continued
their uncertain expedition.
Along the way, they took time to visit
a place they never thought to see again:
Elephant Island.
The expedition photographer
recorded their visit.
Confronting the site of their dark winter...
...they were overcome
with unexpected nostalgia.
Macklin:
We have stood gazing with binoculars...
...picking out and recognizing
old familiar spots.
What memories, what memories!
They rush to one like a great flood
and bring tears to one's eyes.
As I sit and try to write,
a great rush of feeling comes over me...
...and I find I cannot express myself.
Once more, I see the old faces
and hear the old voices.
Old friends scattered everywhere.
But to express it all,
I feel, is impossible.
Shackleton's feeling
about the Endurance expedition...
...was expressed in his memoir:
"We had seen God in his splendors...
...heard the text that nature renders.
We had reached the naked soul of man. "
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