Weather isn't poor, it's just the wind, which slams off of icebergs and rocky cliff faces and gains enough velocity to make moving through the narrow labyrinths of the ice a trickier thing. They stop once to collect soil and rock samples, not staying overnight to make camp, just Crozier and a few other men scrambling out to shore, uneasily rowing to Erebus for dinner and reports, uneasily rowing back to Terror.
(Francis gives Thomas a note penned by Jamie, upon his return, a friendly thing and a small, awful drawing of a fox; whatever he'd tucked in Francis' own coat before leaving, the man has to burn over a candle with an expression that's a deeper, distant kind of fond he wouldn't be able to put a name to, had he been watching himself.)
They still manage to read in the evenings, over dinner or after if any of the lieutenants sit with him during meals, which happens if they're busy with something. Crozier bids Jopson take his work in the great cabin when he's able to take advantage of the better light, instead of ruin his eyes and fingers trying to do any detail work in his berth under a candle. They can steal moments. He sees to his back, once, and it is just as bittersweet as ever to send him away after.
It is eventually determined after some back and forth — and Ross with his lieutenants and steward visiting Terror for a lively dinner — that they will aim for a place to wait out the turn of the season, hold a celebration, then determine if they are to carry on or cruise for the Falkland Islands and attend to some work there. They anticipate that the ice will make further mapping of the coast impossible, but the decision hinges on just how aggressive the freeze becomes. A careful thing to time; a ship can become stuck in a matter of hours, the surround turning from deep blue to white before a man's eyes.
But this subject is not one that lingers in the days after Captain Ross returns to his own ship. The men have faith, for their commanders have proven able to make sound judgement calls in all else. No, they dither over the matter of a ball on the ice, with some men having experienced parties on shore leave before, and some even Parry's famed ones in the Arctic. They shall have the dubious honor of throwing the first one in the Antarctic, now, and half of them have never done so much as a spin around a pub to someone's out of tune fiddle.
Crozier, Phillips, Dr Robertson, and first mate Moore are the only officers willing to put on record their ability to dance without embarrassing themselves. Clearing away dinner ultimately involves clearing the table away, too, and Robertson peevishly organizing the men present in the great cabin by height as to not make any man feel like the lady, though of course they will have to practice both sides to learn. Not even Jopson is safe, made vulnerable by his attentiveness while the other officers' steward slips out to save his own skin.
Lieutenant Kay is abysmal at it, and Crozier tells him so as he attempts to lead Jopson around the room.
no subject
(Francis gives Thomas a note penned by Jamie, upon his return, a friendly thing and a small, awful drawing of a fox; whatever he'd tucked in Francis' own coat before leaving, the man has to burn over a candle with an expression that's a deeper, distant kind of fond he wouldn't be able to put a name to, had he been watching himself.)
They still manage to read in the evenings, over dinner or after if any of the lieutenants sit with him during meals, which happens if they're busy with something. Crozier bids Jopson take his work in the great cabin when he's able to take advantage of the better light, instead of ruin his eyes and fingers trying to do any detail work in his berth under a candle. They can steal moments. He sees to his back, once, and it is just as bittersweet as ever to send him away after.
It is eventually determined after some back and forth — and Ross with his lieutenants and steward visiting Terror for a lively dinner — that they will aim for a place to wait out the turn of the season, hold a celebration, then determine if they are to carry on or cruise for the Falkland Islands and attend to some work there. They anticipate that the ice will make further mapping of the coast impossible, but the decision hinges on just how aggressive the freeze becomes. A careful thing to time; a ship can become stuck in a matter of hours, the surround turning from deep blue to white before a man's eyes.
But this subject is not one that lingers in the days after Captain Ross returns to his own ship. The men have faith, for their commanders have proven able to make sound judgement calls in all else. No, they dither over the matter of a ball on the ice, with some men having experienced parties on shore leave before, and some even Parry's famed ones in the Arctic. They shall have the dubious honor of throwing the first one in the Antarctic, now, and half of them have never done so much as a spin around a pub to someone's out of tune fiddle.
Crozier, Phillips, Dr Robertson, and first mate Moore are the only officers willing to put on record their ability to dance without embarrassing themselves. Clearing away dinner ultimately involves clearing the table away, too, and Robertson peevishly organizing the men present in the great cabin by height as to not make any man feel like the lady, though of course they will have to practice both sides to learn. Not even Jopson is safe, made vulnerable by his attentiveness while the other officers' steward slips out to save his own skin.
Lieutenant Kay is abysmal at it, and Crozier tells him so as he attempts to lead Jopson around the room.