Reading Mawson’s account of the Australasian Antarctic Expedition, 1911-1914, the following extracts are of interest for their descriptive language, similar to that of Jack Ward (Mawson dairy 1955). The same or similar words are emphasized:
p. 31 (on approaching the ice, 29 December 1911):
(at 4 p.m.) A light fog obscured the surrounding sea and distant bergs glided by like spectres.
The fog thickened over a grey swell that shimmered with an oily lustre.
At 7 p.m. pack-ice came suddenly to view, and towards it we steered, vainly peering through the mists ahead in search of a passage. The ice was closely packed, the pieces being small and well-worn. On the outskirts was a light brash which steadily gave place to a heavier variety, composed of larger and more angular fragments. A swishing murmur like the wind in the treetops came from the great expanse. It was alabaster-white and through the small, separate chips was diffused a pale lilac coloration. The larger chunks, by their motion and exposure to wind and current, had a circle of clear water; the deep sea-blue hovering around their water-worn niches. Here and there appeared the ochreous-yellow colour of adhering films of diatoms.
…The heaving ocean, dashing against its (an iceberg’s) mighty, glistening walls, rushed with a hollow boom into the caverns of ethereal blue; Gothic portals to a cathedral of resplendent purity.
Gradually the swell subsided, smoothed by the weight of ice. The tranquility of the water heightened the superb effects of this glacial world. Majestic tabular bergs whose crevices exhaled a vaporous azure; lofty spires, radiant turrets and splendid castles; honeycombed masses illumined by pale green light within whose fairy labyrinths the water washed and gurgled. Seals and penguins on magic gondolas were the silent denizens of this dreamy Venice. In the soft glamour of the the midsummer midnight sun, we were possessed by a rapturous wonder – the rare thrill of unreality.