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February 20, 2008
The naked soul of man
Four sentences to treasure (from Sara Wheeler's book on Antarctica)
At ten o'clock on Easter Monday morning, 1916, a diminutive wooden boat lurched off a rock shelf on one of the islands to the north of the Antarctic Peninsula and into the angry Southern Ocean, immediately tossing two of the men on board into the broth. Within minutes the freezing waters of a roller were pouring through the plughole. Standing on the sandless and wind-whipped beach behind, a tall Anglo-Irishman was calmly making final preparations before himself climbing into the boat. His name was Ernest Shackleton.
Posted by Richard Addis at February 20, 2008 06:35 AM