THE metal decks of their once-sturdy ship cracking, the great beams snapping “with the noise of heavy gunfire”, Frank Wild looked to his great friend, Ernest Shackleton, out on the lookout platform.

“We heard him shout ‘She’s going boys!’,” remembered Wild in his memoirs. “Running out, we were just in time to see the stern of the Endurance rise and then a quick dive and all was over.”

Wild knew that the sinking of the Endurance that morning of November 21, 1915, made death much more than a possibility for himself and his small team of comrades.

The brave, quiet man must have felt a very long way from Skelton, on the East Cleveland coast, where he was born 140 years ago.

Largely forgotten for generations, a plaque in his memory has now been unveiled in the village, following the tireless work of journalist and writer Angie Butler to resurrect his memory.

The reasons why he should be remembered were brought to life at the simple ceremony, and not least among the stories was just how Wild survived – and helped others survive – the sinking of the Endurance.

It was Shackleton, whose name, unlike Wild’s, has endured in the public consciousness, who was in command as ice claimed the Endurance. He picked five men and sailed off on a lifeboat to seek help.

That left Shackleton’s number two, Wild, in charge of 21 crewmates. Wild somehow kept everyone alive in the most extreme conditions on Elephant Island on a diet of seal and seaweed. By all accounts, he remained calm, inspiring confidence in his men.

The story of the Endurance party’s failed attempt to cross the continent merely added to Frank Wild’s reputation alongside Shackleton, but also Captain Robert Scott, with whom Wild also served, as a great polar explorer.

His achievements, in some respects at least, even outshone those of the more famous men. Wild took part in no fewer than five expeditions to Antarctica – three with Shackleton, and is one of only two men to win the Polar Medal with four bars.

That medal, along with his CBE, was sold for £132,000 just a few years ago.

Wild was born the eldest of eight sons and one of 11 children in Skelton at an address unknown. Serious efforts have been made in the village to try and locate the place of his birth, so a blue plaque could be erected, but to no avail.

The most likely location of Wild’s birth, according to Howard Wilson, chairman of Skelton History Group, is 131 High Street, a chemist shop today. However, definitive proof could not be found and Skelton and Brotton Parish Council decided on a compromise solution and marked the birth of the village’s most famous son in the civic hall.

Wild was just three when the family moved to Lincolnshire, and later to Wheldrake, near York, as his father, Ben, who had been a schoolmaster and some-time shopkeeper in Skelton, pursued various careers.

However, the explorer’s connections to East Cleveland and the Tees don’t end there. It’s likely he often returned as a child to visit family in nearby Brotton, but even more intriguing is a family legend that Wild was a direct descendant of Captain Cook through his mother, Mary Wild, nee Cook.

Tony Wright, a distant relative of Wild’s, attended the plaque unveiling and told the family lore which would, surely, excite the imagination of any boy.

“The story goes that Captain Cook’s son, also James, didn’t really die at sea but deserted.

The navy didn’t want the story to go out and said he’d died, although there was still a hue and cry.

James had a son and revealed himself, as an old, bearded man, as the child’s real father many years later, but his son didn’t want to know.

“It kind of fits, but, I know, the story is unlikely.”

Angie Butler, whose book The Quest For Frank Wild has been widely praised, dismissed the tale, but added: “There’s no doubt Frank believed it. It was part of his own story: that he was descended from Captain Cook. It must have had a big effect on him.”

Ms Butler explains she was first interested in Ernest Shackleton, who Wild called “the boss”. However, she became more and more intrigued by Wild, a man Shackleton described as “my other self”.

Wild and Shackleton’s affection was well known and the pair were together, on their final voyage, when Shackleton suffered a fatal heart attack at South Georgia in the South Atlantic. With his death, Wild took charge of that final 1921 expedition, then ended his exploring days and built a life in South Africa, marrying twice, once happily, and dying of pneumonia and diabetes aged 66 in 1939.

His fame waned, although occasional newspaper reports painted the picture of a lonely alcoholic, far from home, working as a lowly barman after failing as a farmer.

Ms Butler, while accepting Wild was sometimes a heavy drinker, disputes the fallfrom- grace account as sensational journalism, pointing out he had a number of good jobs, including quarry manager, and he and his second wife, Beatrice, could afford a car and holidays.

Beatrice, also known as Trixie, kept her husband’s ashes so he might one day be reunited with Shackleton, but was thwarted by the Second World War. Ms Butler, tracked down the ashes to a vault in Johannesburg and, after a major campaign, re-interred them, with full permission of the family, next to Shackleton in South Georgia in 2011. The granite ledger reads: “Frank Wild, Shackleton’s righthand man.”

Speaking at the happier commemoration of the great man’s birth, Ms Butler described Wild as a small man, just over 5ft 4ins tall, but with piercing, ice-blue eyes, a man who served his country in the First World War.

“Many people haven’t really heard of him,” she said. “He was a very quiet man, modest, happy to be a lieutenant.

But his achievements were incredible.”