United States or Trinidad and Tobago ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
It flared instead of smoking; but that didn't matter, for you had already recognized the spot where you had left us and the 'Yelcho' was turning in." We encountered bad weather on the way back to Punta Arenas, and the little 'Yelcho' laboured heavily; but she had light hearts aboard. We entered the Straits of Magellan on September 3 and reached Rio Secco at 8 a.m.
During the run up to Punta Arenas I heard Wild's story, and blessed again the cheerfulness and resource that had served the party so well during four and a half months of privation. The twenty-two men on Elephant Island were just at the end of their resources when the 'Yelcho' reached them.
"It had been arranged that a gun should be fired from the relief ship when she got near the island," said Wild. "Many times when the glaciers were 'calving, and chunks fell off with a report like a gun, we thought that it was the real thing, and after a time we got to distrust these signals. As a matter of fact, we saw the 'Yelcho' before we heard any gun.
After this the 'Yelcho' steamed into San Sebastian Bay." After three days of continuous bad weather we were left alone to attempt once more to rescue the twenty-two men on Elephant Island, for whom by this time I entertained very grave fears. At dawn of Friday, July 21, we were within a hundred miles of the island, and we encountered the ice in the half-light.
She was a forty-year-old oak schooner, strong and seaworthy, with an auxiliary oil-engine. Out of the complement of ten men all told who were manning the ship, there were eight different nationalities; but they were all good fellows and understood perfectly what was wanted. The Chilian Government lent us a small steamer, the 'Yelcho', to tow us part of the way.
So in a north-west gale we went across, narrowly escaping disaster on the way, and reached Punta Arenas on August 14. There was no suitable ship to be obtained. The weather was showing some signs of improvement, and I begged the Chilian Government to let me have the 'Yelcho' for a last attempt to reach the island.
Worsley's keen eyes detected the camp, almost invisible under its covering of snow. The men ashore saw us at the same time, and we saw tiny black figures hurry to the beach and wave signals to us. We were about a mile and a half away from the camp. I turned the 'Yelcho' in, and within half an hour reached the beach with Crean and some of the Chilian sailors.
I could not content myself to wait for six or seven weeks, knowing that six hundred miles away my comrades were in dire need. I asked the Chilian Government to send the 'Yelcho', the steamer that had towed us before, to take the schooner across to Punta Arenas, and they consented promptly, as they had done to every other request of mine.
The Chilian Government placed the 'Yelcho' at my disposal to take the men up to Valparaiso and Santiago. We reached Valparaiso on September 27. Everything that could swim in the way of a boat was out to meet us, the crews of Chilian warships were lined up, and at least thirty thousand thronged the streets.
The police had been instructed to spread the news that the 'Yelcho' was coming with the rescued men, and lest the message should fail to reach some people, the fire-alarm had been rung. The whole populace appeared to be in the streets. It was a great reception, and with the strain of long, anxious months lifted at last, we were in a mood to enjoy it.
Word Of The Day