Please complete this morning maths task. It should take 5-10minutes. It has been set as a task on so please respond with your answers on there or take a picture of your completed sheet and add a photo to respond to the task.
Think back to chapter 4 (either re-read it or listen to me read it here).
Answer these questions:
As a reader do you like or dislike Dooby?
Do you think Zoe likes him? Explain your thoughts.
What do you think Dooby is planning? What makes you think that?
Would you go with him if you were Zoe? Explain your thoughts.
Your spellings this week are words all have the 'ough' sound in them. Use the strategies below to help you practice them. On Friday you will be tested on them.
The words this week are:
Today you are going to working out and generating equivalent fractions using your knowledge of times tables to help you and by drawing visual representations.
I have uploaded a video of me explaining how to do this here or the PowerPoint is attached.
You can also use this fractions wall below to help you with making equivalent fractions.
Today you are going to be reading some of the diary entries from the crew members on the Endurance before planning and writing your own towards the end of this week.
Watch a video of me teaching this lesson here.
Read the diary entries below and highlight any words of phrases you thought were interesting or powerful. Once you have done that write down some words or phrases you would like to use in your dairy.
Here is the link to the diary entries where you can also view the originals.
Five and a half months after abandoning the treacherously ice-crumpled Endurance and moving onto the pack ice, Shackleton and his men, with the ice breaking up around them, took to the sea in their three lifeboats—the James Caird, the Dudley Docker, and the Stancomb Wills. For all save those men who later sailed the Caird to South Georgia, this journey, which eventually landed them on Elephant Island, constituted the most harrowing seven days of the entire two-year-long expedition. In the following excerpts from a previously unpublished first-hand account penned by Shackleton's ski and motor-sledge expert, Thomas Orde-Lees, relive the brutally cold and increasingly dangerous days and nights of April 9th to 15th, 1916.
9 April, 1916
About 2 p.m. we all shoved off, the "Caird," of course, leading. Owing to the bag of sea leopards, we had recently been able to considerably increase the meat ration and had had a good hoosh for luncheon and everyone felt very fit and full of hope, but the attempt to break out of the pack in such small boats must fill the most fearless with apprehension.
We pulled hard making about three miles to the north when our further course in that direction was arrested by a bolt of loose pack, whereupon we bore to the westward. In endeavouring to find a channel through the ice belt the Dudley Docker got into difficulties owing to her getting entrapped in a cul de sac, the entrance to which closed behind her before she could be extricated, but by dint of half an hour's shoving and struggling they managed to regain the open lead, but it was a "near thing."
By this time the other two boats had pulled off some distance towards a large tabular berg, against the sides of which the heavy swell was breaking with a loud roar. The Dudley Docker had a job to catch them up.
Immediately after doing so, all three boats passed under the lee of the pack edge when all of a sudden, almost before we realized it, the whole pack was in motion as if impelled by some mysterious force against the direction of the wind and as if descending upon us to once more engulph [sic] us in its awful grip. It was certainly advancing upon us at a speed of over two miles an hour and we had all our work cut out to outstrip it in our heavily laden boats. As it approached, it was creating a regular bow wave—a most uncanny sight.
Although we were passing through more or less open channels all the time we were never really altogether clear of drift ice and the large lumps of pack or broken bergs, called growlers, and it was necessary to keep a sharp look out to avoid their hitting us or our charging into them.
By 5 p.m. it was getting dusk and shortly after we all pulled up at a small floe, to which the Caird had gone on in advance under sail.
Here we unloaded the boats, hauled them up on to the ice and prepared to spend a quiet night, but it was not to be so, as we shall presently see, in spite of the fact that the swell had somewhat subsided.
Night of 9th - 10th April 1916
Whilst hauling up the boats, which took a good hour to do, the cook had got our blubber stove going on blubber that we had brought with us and produced a fine beverage of hot milk (36 ozs. Trumilk powder for 28 persons) which we stood in much need of. As we had had a quarter of a pound of dog-pemmican and two biscuits each, in the boats for tea, it was not considered necessary to supplement this, so we made do with the milk, and having erected the tents turned in.
One or two of us whose turn it was to do night watchman from 11 p.m. to midnight lay down in the bottom of one of the boats.
The night was fairly mild so that they did not get particularly cold before all hands were awakened, just before 11 p.m., by the now familiar cry of "crack." We jumped up just in time to see, as much as it was possible to do so in the dark, the floe separate into two halves and to hear the cry and commotion of a man in the water. The latter was the sailor Holness and his position was one of extreme danger, for apart from the usual restrictions of clothing, boots, etc., and the fact that his sleeping bag had fallen in on top of him, he was in imminent peril of being crushed between the two halves of the floe, for as a general rule when a floe splits and there is a swell running the two portions of the floe surge to and fro, the crack opening and closing rythmically [sic] with the swell, the edges thereof coming together with a crash and grinding against each other. Providentially, on this occasion, the two fragments merely parted company, separated about six feet from each other and thereafter did not approach with a yard of one another. This was well enough for the rescue of the drowning man but greatly impeded subsequent events.
It appeared that the crack had occurred immediately underneath the sailors' tent—the large 8 man hoop tent—right through the spot where Holness was sleeping. How he extricated himself from his sleeping bag is a marvel as he got clear of it before he actually fell into the water for his bag did not go entirely in but remained hanging over the ice edge.
Vincent, another of the sailors, also had a narrow shave, he did not fall in but his bag did.
Strange to say the tent sustained no damage whatever.
This was not all by any means, for the crack had cut off Sir Ernest's tent and the "J. Caird" from the rest of our little floating camp and it was a question whether we could contrive to "bridge" the boat over the now widening crack, the first care, the rescue of Holness, having been satisfactorily accomplished.
Curiously enough it was Sir Ernest himself who rescued Holness. No doubt he was spending one of his usual wakeful nights and so was up and out in an instant. First he saved Holness's sleeping bag and then the man himself, whose chief lament was that he had thus lost all the "baccy" out of his bag. We have since learned from the victim of this accident that he attributes his escape to the precaution he had taken to sleep with only the lowest one of the three buttons on the flap of the bag fastened, owing to the scare that previous crackings of the floe had given him. Lt. Hudson very generously divested himself of some of his own clothing and also a spare suit of combinations in order to provide Holness with a dry change, for, as the temperature was only 18°, he would soon have been frozen in his wet things.