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| Ernest Shackleton with a dog, being photographed by Frank Hurley. Minifigs and camera from the James Caird Lifeboat Lego set. |
Anecdotes
Crean had started to take the pups out for runs, and it was very amusing to see them with their rolling canter just managing to keep abreast by the sledge and occasionally cocking an eye with an appealing look in the hope of being taken aboard for a ride. As an addition to their foster-father, Crean, the pups had adopted Amundsen. They tyrannized over him most unmercifully. It was a common sight to see him, the biggest dog in the pack, sitting out in the cold with an air of philosophic resignation while a corpulent pup occupied the entrance to his “dogloo.” The intruder was generally the pup Nelson, who just showed his forepaws and face, and one was fairly sure to find Nelly, Roger, and Toby coiled up comfortably behind him. At hoosh-time Crean had to stand by Amundsen’s food, since otherwise the pups would eat the big dog’s ration while he stood back to give them fair play. Sometimes their consciences would smite them and they would drag round a seal’s head, half a penguin, or a large lump of frozen meat or blubber to Amundsen’s kennel for rent. It was interesting to watch the big dog play with them, seizing them by throat or neck in what appeared to be a fierce fashion, while really quite gentle with them, and all the time teaching them how to hold their own in the world and putting them up to all the tricks of dog life.
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| A colourized version of a Frank Hurley photograph of Samson in a 'dogloo'. Source: secretcarshalton |
Dogloos
Worsley took a party to the floe on the 26th and started building a line of igloos and “dogloos” round the ship. These little buildings were constructed, Esquimaux fashion, of big blocks of ice, with thin sheets for the roofs. Boards or frozen sealskins were placed over all, snow was piled on top and pressed into the joints, and then water was thrown over the structures to make everything firm. The ice was packed down flat inside and covered with snow for the dogs, which preferred, however, to sleep outside except when the weather was extraordinarily severe. The tethering of the dogs was a simple matter. The end of a chain was buried about eight inches in the snow, some fragments of ice were pressed around it, and a little water poured over all. The icy breath of the Antarctic cemented it in a few moments.
Derby
The conditioning and training of the dogs seemed essential, whatever fate might be in store for us, and the teams were taken out by their drivers whenever the weather permitted. Rivalries arose, as might have been ex- pected, and on the 15th of the month a great race, the "Antarctic Derby," took place. It was a notable event. The betting had been heavy, and every man aboard the ship stood to win or lose on the result of the contest. Some money had been staked, but the wagers that thrilled were those involving stores of chocolate and cigarettes. The course had been laid off from Khyber Pass, at the eastern end of the old lead ahead of the ship, to a point clear of the jibboom, a distance of about 700 yds. Five teams went out in the dim noon twilight, with a zero temperature and an aurora flickering faintly to the southward. The starting signal was to be given by the flashing of a light on the meteorological station. I was appointed starter, Worsley was judge, and James was timekeeper. The bos'n, with a straw hat added to his usual Antarctic attire, stood on a box near the winning-post, and was assisted by a couple of shady characters to shout the odds, which were displayed on a board hung around his neck-6 to 4 on Wild, "evens" on Crean, 2 to 1 against Hurley, 6 to 1 against Macklin, and 8 to 1 against McIlroy. Canvas handkerchiefs fluttered from an improvised grand stand, and the pups, which had never seen such strange happenings before, sat round and howled with excitement. The spectators could not see far in the dim light, but they heard the shouts of the drivers as the teams approached and greeted the victory of the favourite with a roar of cheering that must have sounded strange indeed to any seals or penguins that happened to be in our neighbourhood.
Songsters
"Hercules for the last fortnight or more has constituted himself leader of the orchestra. Two or three times in the twenty-four hours he starts a howl—a deep, melodious howl—and in about thirty seconds he has the whole pack in full song, the great deep, booming, harmonious song of the half-wolf pack.” (7 Sep 1915)
Sourcing the dogs
Naming the dogs
Responsibility for the dogs
The dogs had been divided into six teams of nine dogs each. Wild, Crean, Macklin, McIlroy, Marston, and Hurley each had charge of a team, and were fully responsible for the exercising, training, and feeding of their own dogs. They called in one of the surgeons when an animal was sick. We were still losing some dogs through worms, and it was unfortunate that the doctors had not the proper remedies. Worm-powders were to have been provided by the expert Canadian dog-driver I had engaged before sailing for the south, and when this man did not join the Expedition the matter was overlooked. We had fifty-four dogs and eight pups early in April, but several were ailing, and the number of mature dogs was reduced to fifty by the end of the month. Our store of seal meat amounted now to about 5000 lbs., and I calculated that we had enough meat and blubber to feed the dogs for ninety days without trenching upon the sledging rations. The teams were working well, often with heavy loads. The biggest dog was Hercules, who tipped the beam at 86 lbs. Samson was 11 lbs. lighter, but he justified his name one day by starting off at a smart pace with a sledge carrying 200 lbs. of blubber and a driver.
Shackleton had originally intended to have an expert dog driver named George Ross accompany the expedition, but when Ross arrived in London from Canada, Shackleton was put off by his drinking and his insistence on a life insurance policy, and the arrangement fell through. Shackleton next considered Hjalmar Gjertsen, who had been first mate on Fram during Amundsen's Norwegian Antarctic Expedition 1910-12 (Fram). But Fridtjof Nansen, the sage of polar exploration, was dubious about Gjertsen's dog-driving experience, so that too fell through. At the last minute, Sir Daniel, an ardent supporter of Shackleton, agreed to fill the position.Gooch, nicknamed 'Curly' by the other expedition members, enlisted as an able seaman and sailed with the dogs to Buenos Aires. 'There never was a better disciplined AB afloat than Sir Daniel Gooch,' Wild wrote. 'He obeyed all orders promptly & … was possessed of a keen sense of humour.' Unfortunately, by the time Endurance reached Grytviken, Gooch had learned that the government was requisitioning Hylands House as a military hospital. Sir Daniel insisted that the most modern medical equipment be installed (at his own expense), and he felt it necessary to return to England to oversee the work. So he sailed back from South Georgia.
None returned
The importance of the dogs can be seen in that their passing was noted.
- One dog had to be shot on the 12th. (12 Feb 1915).
- Four dogs which had been ailing were shot. Some of the dogs were suffering badly from worms, and the remedies at our disposal, unfortunately, were not effective (26 Feb 1915).
- Four of the poorest dogs were shot this day. They were suffering severely from worms, and we could not afford to keep sick dogs under the changed conditions. (3 Aug 1915).
- “This afternoon Sallie’s three youngest pups, Sue’s Sirius, and Mrs. Chippy, the carpenter’s cat, have to be shot. We could not undertake the maintenance of weaklings under the new conditions. Macklin, Crean, and the carpenter seemed to feel the loss of their friends rather badly." (19 Oct 1915)
- Owing to this shortage of food and the fact that we needed all that we could get for ourselves, I had to order all the dogs except two teams to be shot. It was the worst job that we had had throughout the Expedition, and we felt their loss keenly. (Jan 1916)
- “The last two teams of dogs were shot today... the carcasses being dressed for food. We had some of the dog-meat cooked, and it was not at all bad—just like beef, but, of course, very tough.” (2 April 1916)
The men took to the lifeboats on 9 April 1916.
