had gained and altered his equipment in accordance with that which I found it best to employ. For I came far short of Scott both in experience and means. As regards Lieutenant Shirase in the Kainan Maru, I understood it to be his plan to devote his whole attention to King Edward VII. Land. After thus thoroughly considering these questions, I came to the conclusions I have stated, and my plan was irrevocably fixed. If at that juncture I had made my intention public, it would only have given occasion for a lot of newspaper discussion, and possibly have ended in the project being stifled at its birth. Everything had to be got ready quietly and calmly. My brother, upon whose absolute silence I could blindly rely, was the only person I let into the secret of my change of plan, and he did me many important services during the time when we alone shared the knowledge. Then Lieutenant Thorvald Nilsen -- at that time first officer of the Fram, now her commander -- returned home, and I considered it my duty to inform him immediately of my resolve. The way in which he received it made me feel safe in my choice of him. I saw that in him I had found not only a capable and trustworthy man, but a good comrade as well; and this was a point of the highest importance. If the relations between the chief and the second in command are good, much unpleasantness and many unnecessary worries can be avoided. Besides which, a good understanding in this quarter gives an example to the whole ship. It was a great relief to me when Captain Nilsen came home in January, 1910, and was able to help -- which he did with a good will, a capability, and a reliability that I have no words to commend. The following was the plan of the Fram's southern voyage: Departure from Norway at latest before the middle of August. Madeira was to be the first and only place of call. From there a course was to be made on the best route for a sailing-ship -- for the Fram can-not be regarded as anything else -- southward through the Atlantic, and then to the east, passing to the south of the Cape of Good Hope and Australia, and finally pushing through the pack and into Ross Sea about New Year, 1911. As a base of operations I had chosen the most southerly point we could reach with the vessel -- the Bay of Whales in the great Antarctic Barrier. We hoped to arrive here about January 15. After having landed the selected shore party -- about ten men -- with materials for a house, equipment, and provisions for two years, the Fram was to go out again and up to Buenos Aires, in order to carry out from there an oceanographical voyage across the Atlantic to the coast of Africa and back. In October she was to return to the Bay of Whales and take off the shore party. So much, but no more, could be settled beforehand. The further progress of the expedition could only be determined later, when the work in the South was finished. My knowledge of the Ross Barrier was due to descriptions alone; but I had so carefully studied all the literature that treats of these regions, that, on first encountering this mighty mass of ice, I felt as if I had known it for many years. After thorough consideration, I fixed upon the Bay of Whales as a winter station, for several reasons. In the first place, because we could there go farther south in the ship than at any other point -- a whole degree farther south than Scott could hope to get in McMurdo Sound, where he was to have his station. And this would be of very great importance in the subsequent sledge journey toward the Pole. Another great advantage was that we came right on to our field of work, and could see from our hut door the conditions and surface we should have to deal with. Besides this, I was justified in supposing that the surface southward from this part of the Barrier would be considerably better, and offer fewer difficulties than the piled-up ice along the land. In addition, animal life in the Bay of Whales was, according to the descriptions, extraordinarily rich, and offered all the fresh meat we required in the form of seals, penguins,
etc. 23 Besides these purely technical and material advantages which the Barrier seemed to possess as a winter station, it offered a specially favourable site for an investigation of the meteorological conditions, since here one would be unobstructed by land on all sides. It would be possible to study the character of the Barrier by daily observations on the very spot better than anywhere else. Such interesting phenomena as the movement, feeding, and calving of this immense mass of ice could, of course, be studied very fully at this spot. Last, but not least, there was the enormous advantage that it was comparatively easy to reach in the vessel. No expedition had yet been prevented from coming in here. I knew that this plan of wintering on the Barrier itself would be exposed to severe criticism as recklessness, foolhardiness, and so forth, for it was generally assumed that the Barrier was afloat here, as in other places. Indeed, it was thought to be so even by those who had themselves seen it. Shackleton's description of the conditions at the time of his visit did not seem very promising. Mile after mile had broken away, and he thanked God he had not made his camp there. Although I have a very great regard for Shackleton, his work and his experience, I believe that in this case his conclusion was too hasty -- fortunately, I must add. For if, when Shackleton passed the Bay of Whales on January, 24, 1908, and saw the ice of the bay in process of breaking up and drifting out, he had waited a few hours, or at the most a couple of days, the problem of the South Pole would probably have been solved long before December, 1911. With his keen sight and sound judgment, it would not have taken him long to determine that the inner part of the bay does not consist of floating barrier, but that the Barrier there rests upon a good, solid foundation, probably in the form of small islands, skerries, or shoals, and from this point he and his able companions would have disposed of the South Polar question once for all. But circumstances willed it otherwise, and the veil was only lifted, not torn away. I had devoted special study to this peculiar formation in the Barrier, and had arrived at the conclusion that the inlet that exists to-day in the Ross Barrier under the name of the Bay of Whales is nothing else than the selfsame bight that was observed by Sir James Clark Ross -- no doubt with great changes of outline, but still the same. For seventy years, then, this formation -- with the exception of the pieces that had broken away -- had persisted in the same place. I therefore concluded that it could be no accidental formation. What, once, in the dawn of time, arrested the mighty stream of ice at this spot and formed a lasting bay in its edge, which with few exceptions runs in an almost straight line, was not merely a passing whim of the fearful force that came crashing on, but something even stronger than that -- something that was firmer than the hard ice -- namely, the solid land. Here in this spot, then, the Barrier piled itself up and formed the bay we now call the Bay of Whales. The observations we made during our stay there confirm the correctness of this theory. I therefore had no misgivings in placing our station on this part of the Barrier. The plan of the shore party was, as soon as the hut was built and provisions landed, to carry supplies into the field, and lay down de-pots as far to the south as possible. I hoped to get such a quantity of provisions brought down to lat. 80o S., that we should be able to regard this latitude as the real starting-place of the actual sledge journey to the Pole. We shall see later that this hope was more than fulfilled, and a labour many times greater than this was performed. By the time this depot work was accomplished winter would be before us, and with the knowledge we had of the conditions in the Antarctic regions, every precaution would have to be taken to meet the coldest and probably the most stormy weather that any Polar expedition had hitherto encountered. My object was, when winter had once set in, and everything in the station was in good working order, to concentrate all our forces upon the one object -- that of reaching the Pole. I intended to try to get people with me who were specially fitted for outdoor work in the cold. Even more necessary was it to find men who were experienced dog-drivers; I saw what a decisive bearing this would have on the result. There are advantages and disadvantages in having experienced people with one on an expedition like this. The advantages are obvious. If a variety of experiences are brought together and used with common sense, of course a great deal can be achieved. The experience of one man will often come in opportunely where that of another falls short. The experiences of several will supplement each other, and form some- thing like a perfect whole; this is what I hoped to obtain. But there is no rose without a thorn; if it has its advantages, it also has its drawbacks. The drawback to which one is liable in this case is that someone or other may think he possesses so much experience that every opinion but his own is worthless. It is, of course, regrettable when experience takes this turn, but with patience and common sense it can be broken of it. In any case, the advantages are so great and predominant that I had determined to have experienced men to the greatest extent possible. It was my plan to devote the entire winter to working at our outfit, and to get it as near to perfection as possible. Another thing to which we should have to give some time was the killing of a sufficient number of seals to provide fresh meat both for ourselves and our dogs for the whole time. Scurvy, the worst enemy of Polar expeditions, must be kept off at all costs, and to achieve this it was my intention to
