–from Frank Hurley’s account “Shackleton’s Argonauts”–
“So Time begins weaving. Days and incidents are entered and many pages turned in many diaries. Each morning Blackborrow tears a date off the ward-room calendar. We pay little heed. There are no week-end bills to meet, no appointments to keep, on scarcely stops to ponder at the effortless glide of time. Gradually, almost imperceptibly, we have drifted into a rut—a thing that we have been striving to avoid. We barely give thought to the fact that our razors have been laid aside, that beards, ten days old, have played havoc with the debonair complexions that were once our pride.
“Water aboard ship must be conserved, and there is little for bathing and laundry purposes. We have been transferring coal from deck to bunkers, and our clothes and complexions bear witness to the fact. It is rather astonishing that even those with highly trained intellects can fall so quickly into primitive habits. There is nothing and no one with which comparisons may be made.”