As we work our way around the perimeter of the Cape Evans hut, we have ended up at the section directly opposite the Tenements, or in nautical terms, port amidships. This is mostly taken up with an enclosed space where the geologists lived, but the first thing we see is the pair of bunks known as 'The Palace.' In 1911 it looked like this:
Edward 'Marie' Nelson, marine biologist, was in the top bunk, with Bernard Day, mechanic, in the bottom one. Day was the one who installed the acetylene gas lighting system in the hut, and helped build the bunks. The hut at Cape Evans was being constructed while most of the party was out laying depots for the following season; as Day and Nelson happened still to be around, they were able to put a lot of care into their bunks, and the relative finery won it the name of 'Palace'. I started with the historical photos this time because, while The Palace is still palatial, its relative refinement really shows how much it has aged:
The wall which forms the back of The Palace is one side of the cubicle which housed geologists Frank Debenham and T. Griffith Taylor, as well as Norwegian professional skier Tryggve Gran. There are, as far as I know, three contemporary photos of this cubicle, all shot from the same angle and ostensibly at the same time. Here is one with Debenham (L) and Taylor (R) – it is a slightly wider angle than the one which includes Gran so I hope he can forgive me for leaving him out:
This hut-within-a-hut got nicknamed 'The Opium Den,' on account of the red paper lining the shelves (the zigzag-cut stuff in the photo) and the plush curtain hung across the entrance. To get the shot above, Ponting must have stuck the camera lens in the door, because from the outside – which I hadn't seen before – one realises that the modern translation of 'opium den' is 'crack house.’
With the exception of Ponting's darkroom, it is the darkest part of the hut, and even the surprisingly sensitive night setting on my phone struggled with it. I have applied my limited Photoshop skills to the photos so you can make any sense of them at all, but they are not works of art. However, they tell me enough to draw the place, which is what they're really for after all.
First, Debenham's bunk:
For some reason I'd got the impression he was bunked under Gran, but no, he was in an upper bunk across from Gran. Below Deb's bunk is a sort of storage area, occupied by – surprise! – rocks, and a case for rocks. Geologists, I tell you.
On the opposite side of the den, Gran's bunk is on top. With the awning up it actually looks rather cosy, and it would have been best situated to get the warmth and smells from the kitchen, so probably was. But ... he seems to have written on it ... in blood? Way to be metal, Gran!
I was unable to make head or tail of the blobs until I asked one of the Antarctic Heritage Trust people what it said; it is no eldritch inscription after all, but simply 'TWO YEARS GOOD FRIEND' with the date and Gran's initials. You can see this if you look not at the pigment but at the shiny spots where the paint had originally been placed – it seems to have slid down the wood in the intervening years, to creepy effect.
Griff's bunk is below, with a few items collected on it, including one of the few pillows remaining in the hut, a knife sheath, and that funny half-ski-stick bamboo which also turns up at Cherry's bunk. Could you hazard a guess as to what that is? Here's a closer look:
Also, let's admire Griff's dedication to dental hygiene, with two toothbrushes. Well done, Griff.
That's pretty much the end of the tour. I hope you have enjoyed the walk round, and that it gives some perspective in these times of sequestration – these men were more cut off than any of us, with less personal space, for two whole years, some of them. And no internet!