2) Every step from Antarctica is North. I might have been tempted to stutter in that idea, inching North then falling back South, South, South. I wanted to steal from my bed in McMurdo to the oft venting Mt. Erebus, playing on the ice all the way, with a sled lightly provisioned, to be sure.... No. Sadness. I could move only with difficulty. I missed my crevasse. The truth was, I was not to do any walking for a while. Dr. Creep's plan was to place me in the care of locals living near the Cape. They were to have been given instructions on how to care for me until my strength returned. Feigning sleep I overheard all of this from him as he spoke to parties unknown on a marvelous compact radio. I would like to have that radio.
We put to sea.

I slept I cannot guess how long. The light does not change here. I managed to stand up. Felt better. Shuffling, draped in blankets to the door of my ship's cabin, I stepped onto a deck of chairs and tables. Bracing, deeply chilled air, brought immediate pain to bits of frost-bitten flesh. Still, I took a seat. What ugly deck furniture for such an atmosphere. No one came to see me. Only a minor miracle of an airborn bug shunting from table to table, finally pulled over the ship's rail by the merest draught. I wanted to follow it over. I stood. Someone came up behind me with tea. I could not understand what he said, but his intent was clear. I was steered safely back inside.