The only known photo of Mrs. Chippy, perched on the shoulder of Endurance stowaway Perce Blackborow. (Image: Scott Polar Research Institute, University of Cambridge)
In the annals of Antarctic exploration, one name stands out not for heroic leadership or groundbreaking discoveries, but for four furry paws and a striped tail. Mrs. Chippy, the tiger tabby tom who accompanied Sir Ernest Shackleton‘s Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition of 1914-1917, earned a place in history as one of the most remarkable ship‘s cats ever to brave the high seas.
A Proud Tradition of Seagoing Felines
For centuries, cats have been essential members of ships‘ crews, prized for their rodent-catching prowess and companionship on long voyages. From the British Royal Navy to Viking longships, nearly every sailing vessel housed a ship‘s cat who, in addition to curtailing vermin, provided a welcome boost to sailor morale.
Some seagoing felines even gained celebrity status, like Trim, the intrepid companion of 18th-century explorer Matthew Flinders, who circumnavigated Australia. Other famed ship‘s cats include:
- Tiddles, who logged over 30,000 miles during his career with the British Royal Navy
- Unsinkable Sam, who survived the sinking of three separate ships during World War II
- Simon, who won the Dickin Medal (the animal equivalent of the Victoria Cross) for defending food stores during the Chinese civil war
But among this pawsome fleet of mariners, one cat stands out for the epic nature of his adventure and the tragedy of his demise: Mrs. Chippy of the Endurance.
A Most Able-Bodied Seacat
Exactly how Mrs. Chippy—originally called "Chippy‘s Cat" after his owner, the Scottich shipwright Henry "Chippy" McNish—came aboard the Endurance remains a mystery. Some speculate McNish smuggled his tabby companion aboard; others suggest a crew member gifted the cat to the carpenter shortly before the expedition set sail for the Antarctic in August 1914.
Regardless of his origins, Mrs. Chippy quickly won the adoration of the Endurance‘s 28-man crew, including Shackleton himself. Expedition photographer Frank Hurley snapped the only known photo of Mrs. Chippy perched jauntily on the shoulder of stowaway Perce Blackborow.
The sure-pawed feline soon proved himself an able seaman, deftly navigating the ship‘s rigging and racing across inch-wide railings in rollicking seas that sent hardened sailors stumbling. In a September 1915 diary entry, storekeeper Thomas Orde-Lees marveled at the cat‘s abilities:
"He is a great pet and has the run of the whole ship…It is a wonder he has not fallen overboard long ago. Many a time he climbs along the rails and ratlines! He is a funny wee fellow and is very popular."
But Mrs. Chippy‘s maritime mishaps were not always a laughing matter. In another harrowing incident, the cat fell overboard into the frigid Antarctic waters. The officer on watch spun the ship around while seaman Ernest Wild used a fishing net to scoop the floundering feline out of the icy sea.
Captain Frank Worsley also chronicled Mrs Chippy‘s climbing antics in his memoir Endurance:
"He could ascend the rigging quicker than any sailor. Up he would go with a seaman chasing behind, as nimble as any young sea-dog."
A Constant Companion
Beyond his duties as rodent-wrangler and entertainment, Mrs. Chippy served an important psychological role for the Endurance crew. Living historian Brad Borkan, co-author of When Your Life Depends on It: Extreme Decision-Making Lessons from the Antarctic, notes:
"Animals on board ships…provided companionship and a source of relaxation and stress relief in difficult situations. McNish‘s cat, Mrs. Chippy, would have been a bright spot in the day for the men of the Endurance."
McNish and his feline friend were especially close. In his expedition account South, Shackleton himself remarked on their bond:
"The carpenter had stowed the cat in an empty box…from then onwards the ‘Chippy‘ and his master were inseparable, and when work on deck was slack the carpenter could generally be seen sitting on the deck or on a spar crooning to his pet, whose answering purrs were eloquent of perfect understanding and contentment."
A Gut-Wrenching Decision
Shackleton and his crew set sail with the ambitious goal of being the first expedition to cross the Antarctic continent overland. But when the Endurance became hopelessly trapped in pack ice in January 1915, that dream slipped away. The men now faced a harrowing trek to open water hauling lifeboats and supplies. In this grim equation, an older tomcat was deemed expendable.
On October 29, 1915, Shackleton gave the order for Mrs. Chippy and several sled dogs to be shot. He wrote in South:
"This afternoon Sallie‘s three youngest pups, Sue‘s Sirius, and Mrs. Chippy, the carpenter‘s cat, have to be shot. We could not undertake the maintenance of weaklings under the new conditions…Macklin, Crean, and the carpenter seemed to feel the loss of their friends rather badly."
For McNish, devoted owner of Mrs. Chippy, this was a devastating and unforgivable decision. The cat‘s death marked a turning point in the carpenter‘s relationship with his boss, one that would have far-reaching consequences.
Shackleton‘s Agonizing Choice
Though he projected an air of unwavering confidence, Shackleton likely agonized over choosing to execute Mrs. Chippy and the dogs. But polar historian Stephanie Barczewski, author of Antarctic Destinies: Scott, Shackleton and the Changing Face of Heroism, argues the decision fit with Shackleton‘s single-minded determination to bring his men home alive:
"One of Shackleton‘s greatest strengths as a leader was his ability to make difficult decisions quickly and stick to them. Shooting Mrs. Chippy and the dogs was an unpopular choice, especially with McNish, but in the grand scheme of the expedition‘s survival, it was likely the right call."
Shackleton biographer Roland Huntford concurs, stating in The Last Place on Earth:
"It was a ruthless decision, but one in keeping with Shackleton‘s overriding concern: the survival of his men. He was not one to let sentiment cloud his judgement."
Indeed, Shackleton would need every ounce of his legendary leadership acumen to guide his crew through the harrowing months ahead. Sacrificing Mrs. Chippy, heart-wrenching as it was, was a pragmatic calculation—the first of many to come.
A Grudge Endures
By April 1916, the pack ice crushed and sank the Endurance, marooning the 28-man crew on a frozen floe. In an astonishing feat of endurance, Shackleton and five others sailed 800 miles in a converted lifeboat to fetch rescue from South Georgia Island, while the rest of the men waited on barren Elephant Island, surviving on penguin and seal meat.
Among the skeleton crew was a still-bitter McNish, whose shipwright skills were deemed essential for modifying the James Caird lifeboat for the perilous open-water journey. The carpenter made no secret of his animosity for Shackleton, whose leadership he had begun to question.
In his account Shackleton‘s Forgotten Men: The Untold Tragedy of the Endurance Epic, historian Lennard Bickel notes McNish‘s resentment had only festered since Mrs. Chippy‘s death:
"McNish, a dour Scot at the best of times, never forgave Shackleton for ordering his beloved cat shot. From then on, he was obstructive, questioning orders…He was still a superb shipwright, but his attitude made an already tense situation worse."
So fraught had their relationship become that, when the men finally reached civilization in September 1916, Shackleton refused to recommend McNish for the prestigious Polar Medal, an honor bestowed on the rest of the crew.
A Legacy Lives On
A century after his untimely demise, the legacy of Mrs. Chippy endures. When McNish died destitute in 1930 and was buried in an unmarked grave in Wellington, New Zealand, local Antarctic buffs rallied to provide a headstone befitting the expedition hero. In 2004, a life-sized bronze sculpture of Mrs. Chippy was added to stand eternal watch over his owner‘s final resting place.
Antarctic historians continue to debate Shackleton‘s decision to shoot Mrs. Chippy and his treatment of McNish. But the cat‘s story has taken on a life of its own, immortalized in books, songs, and even a children‘s opera. In 2011, Mrs. Chippy was inducted into the Purr ‘n‘ Fur Famous Felines Hall of Fame.
Perhaps the most poignant tribute comes from artist Chris Elliott, creator of the bronze statue that adorns McNish‘s grave. In an interview with The Scotsman newspaper, Elliott reflected:
"The cat was more important than the politics and the Antarctic and all that. It represented something simpler – a man‘s affection for his cat and the cat‘s loyalty to him."
In the end, the bond between a sailor and his devoted cat may be the most enduring legacy of the Endurance expedition—a testament to the simple, steadfast love between humans and animals that endures even in the harshest conditions on Earth.
