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

that the ship would be ready to sail before the end of the month and when I spoke to
Captain McFie that day he thought it might be well into December before she would
leave dock. She still had to be refitted with new bunks and other accommodation and
equipment.
A letter arrived asking me to submit a new design for the cover of the Ibis. This
was the oldest ornithological journal and I felt it was quite an honour to be asked but
as the deadline was the end of the month, given all my pressing tasks, I was not able
to accept. The President of the society was Dr Kinnear, the director of the Natural
History Museum.
I based myself in Cambridge, at last received the final instructions from the
Colonial Office (FIDS) and there appeared to be little likelihood of our leaving
England before the end of November, as the ship was still undergoing extensive
repairs in London dock near Tower Bridge. I spent a few hours at the docks looking
over the ship which was presently dignified by the name AN 76, but was to be
named ‘John Biscoe’, after an early British Antarctic explorer, when the relevant
committee had made up its mind.
Then out of the blue, there was mention on the radio of the re-naming ceremony
and that the sailing date was now to be in a few days time, a Thursday. I had been
sleeping on the ship with three other expedition members for the last two nights. The
bunks were very comfortable but there was very little space for our kit. The
ceremony performed by Mrs Creech-Jones, the wife of the Colonial Secretary, was
not very impressive, and it was cold; a redeeming feature was the refreshments. I
had an interview with a BBC reporter but couldn’t tell him much. On the Monday
night I took a room at the Bonington Hotel and reported on Tuesday, thinking we
would be sailing as arranged. Of course the usual delays were evident and it
transpired that the ship hadn't yet been on sea trials. It was just as well for there was
still a great deal for me to do. I hailed a taxi and brought my personal kit to the office.
Then I laid on a lorry to bring my 20 crates and drums of scientific equipment,
accumulated at the British Museum, down to the ship - where I saw it safely stowed
at night.
I discovered that there were at least two North country chaps. One, I knew from
Cambridge days (Mike Green) and the other, Derek Maling I had climbed with years
before in the Lake District (Chapter 2). We all went down to the ship together and
turned in after a fish and chip supper. The following day, the ship underwent her
sea-trials and we had to be off her by 8.0 o’clock; we re-joined her at Tilbury at 4.30
pm. and she was to sail on Friday at the 'crack of dawn' according to Bingham. All
this delay was most unsettling but I was still very keen and all would be well once
we sailed.
Everyone told us that the John Biscoe was the best Antarctic ship yet, so we
concluded that the others must have been exceptionally small and even more
crowded! Her decks were by now loaded with gear of every description, including a
large stack of timber and a crated aircraft sitting on the fore-deck. The dockers and
crew worked until very late on the last evening putting the final touches to it and
battening down the deck cargo. This left little room for deck tennis etc (!) and we
would have to feed in relays as the mess room was tiny.
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