Part I: Seals teeth and whales ears - Scott Polar Research Institute ...

would be safer to remain on the bridge - in case the ship foundered - which sounded
a bit ominous. The catcher was moving about excessively and mountainous seas
were rushing down upon us; each roll seemed likely to be the last one. From the
bridge we looked up the long slopes through the spinning Kent "Clear view" screen
to see waves breaking on the crests. Occasional small bergy bits swept down the
slope towards us narrowly missing the ship. The catwalk, gun and rigging - in fact
everything forward of the bridge was thickly crusted with grey ice at least three
inches thick. From time to time pieces broke off in the wind and crashed against the
wheelhouse windows. Everyone was very subdued. They said it was the worst
weather they'd ever experienced - including the gunner, Captain Hem. The wave
height was estimated at 60 feet (25m) at times. Certainly it was the worst storm I had
been in at sea - it had me worried and I was glad to know that I had never in my life
had a problem with sea-sickness - though that was the least of our worries. We heard
over the radio that Balaena's wheelhouse – 14m (45 ft) above sea level - had been
flooded!; nearby Thule was drifting down wind upon Willem Barentz (a huge Dutch
factory ship) which had already lost a whale overboard from the plan, taking
bulwarks with it. Altogether during these few days our expedition lost 23 whales,
including five blues, in the storm, representing in total value over £50,000.
The storm continued during 4 March and worsened if anything. The seas were
like mountains and white with foam. Huge 12-15m (40-50 ft) waves were breaking
over us, and every so often the ship was punched and shuddered to a stop in the
middle of a roll. I've never experienced anything quite like it. The Chief Engineer
confessed that he was seasick. Hem said he wasn't very happy about our chances;
the coating of ice thickened, the gun mounting buckled under the force of the waves,
and we had lost the harpoon and forerunners. Luckily, however, at 5.30 pm we
managed to run into an ice-pack and were in calmer water, but there were heavy
thuds as we continued to hit bergy bits and ice floes.
Next day the wind was still measured at force 11 - but we were in calm water in
the lee of icepacks. I worked with the crew on deck in the morning chipping ice from
the rigging and from the winches and deck fittings - what was left of it, that is! We
were then in position 66°58'S, 45° 33' E. We could now see the full extent of the
damage: the bow rails had been bent to an angle of 45° and there was a big piece torn
from the catwalk. Then, passing South of the Antarctic Circle, we chased a blue
whale later that day - from 7 to 9 o’clock - along the edge of a tabular iceberg 25 miles
long, but didn't catch it. Hem had one "bom" (miss) and the second mate had one too.
We saw one crabeater seal and six Adelie penguins, a few snow petrels, silver-grey
fulmars, Antarctic petrels, terns and several of the small minke whales (Balaenoptera
acutorostrata). That night it was clear and moonless with a glorious display of the
Aurora australis, flashing across the sky - predominantly a green curtain, but shot
with reds, blues and yellows. I wished Maureen had been there to see it – but
perhaps best not?
The storm abated, and in the morning we were chasing blue whales, at 4.30 am,
catching two before breakfast and another four later in the day. The asdic deserved
most of the credit. We were in the vicinity of the large iceberg and on the edge of the
pack. It was lovely, calm and clear with the beautiful blue and white pack-ice - so
spotless and untouched. Whales went into the pack ice but came out again. When
they were among the ice it was remarkable how they surfaced in the leads and
454