In 1914 when Sir Ernest Shackleton was conducting his fourth Antarctic expedition, his ship, the Endurance, was caught and crushed in pack ice, his crew marooned on Elephant Island. Worsley was his navigator and along with four others on a small sloop he accompanied the explorer on a harrowing journey to the nearest manned station some 800 miles away. His account of that voyage and overland trek--also detailed in Shackleton's out-of-print South (1919)--is a glowing tribute to the commander and an itemized record of perseverance. For days they endured furious weather and countless dangers: circling killer whales, frostbite, riptides, thirst. Taking their position was a grim operation--the sun came out just twice a week--and when they reached South Georgia they still had to cross mountains and glaciers. Finally they approach a Norwegian whaling station and Worsley, after three months with no bath and seven months in the same clothes, stops to spruce up in case there are ladies inside. Even writing seven years after the trip (when this was published in Britain), Worsley is a keen reporter: he lingers on the import of frozen Burberry socks or piping hot hoosh, marvels at the tenacity of his fellow travelers and the particular courage of Sir Ernest, and takes pride in the ultimate rescue of the entire crew.