PI ,,,I 1 ![ ,i Sinee ehildhood, I have been asked that question. My father Edward, was Ernest Shaekleton s younger son, and 1 canllol remember a time when I was not aware of the part the ~renl white eontinent had played in the life of my family. Photographs hom my grandfather s expeditions hunt, on the waN., at home: beautiful blael~-and-white images from the early years ol the century. The), showed a world of snow and ice; bearded men in strange, shapeless garments; a little ship being slowly crushed in the ice, her decline more shocking in each photograph until she is finally only a skeleton of a ship. As a child, I was ahvays particularly fas- einated by one photograph. It showed the husMes (the sled do~s) sitting patiently on the iee beside tim wreck of the ship that had been their home, her end not far away, their future in douht. Ernest Shaekleton died at the start of his third expedition, lie was only 47. My father was nine .5,ears old. He did not have the chance to lmow his father very well (explorers were away for years at a time then), yet he, too, became an explorer. At the age of 20 he went to Borneo and then to Ellesmere Island in the Canadian Arctic. He avoided the Antarctic because he did not want to seem to be trading on his father s name. When I was a little ~4irl, I remember sitting on the coalhouse roof with my brother one day pretending it was a ship. I made him promise that he, too, would explore, to make it three generations. And he did. He took part in an expedition to Devon Island, in the Canadian Arctic. I did get to the iMltaretie, nearly a hundred years after my grand- father, on a naval ship bearing the same name as his ship-- Endurance. It was only a small glimpse of the Antarctic he had known, but it was an unforgettable experience. Perhaps after read- ing this excellent book, some of you too will be inspired to visit the great white south in the footsteps of Sir Ernest Shaeldeton. i, / , f : / I 4 i ,
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