![]() You had better make up your mind that it is only a matter of time. Millions of tons of ice, set in motion by some faraway disturbance, at last reached her resting place and nipped at her resilient sides. ![]() Sometimes, the little ship would quiver and groan in response, her wooden timbers straining as the pressure from Groan, and Worsley and his two companions would listen to its ominous voice as it travelled to them across the frozen miles. From time to time, the shriek of the wind outside broke all conversation. The temperature was -30 Fahrenheit, andĪround the ship, extending to the horizon in all directions, was a sea of ice, white and mysterious under the clear, hard stars. It was July, midwinter in Antarctica, and the darkness of the long polar night had been upon them for many weeks. The captain of the ship, Frank Worsley, would remember the day vividly ever afterward. Shackleton's Legendary Antarctic Expedition ![]()
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