THE MORRISSEY REPAIRED
On Tuesday the third of August we arrived in Upernivik again, with
Melville Bay safely behind us. And we knew that our trip would have to
end right there as we could not fix the leaks in the Morrissey. Coming
down she had been leaking about ten gallons a minute. That in itself
wasn’t so bad, but the danger was that at any minute it might get
worse, especially if any strain came or we hit ice or anything else.
It was my turn at the pumps when we came in. When the engine was not
running we had to pump almost continually, for the engine itself used
up water from the bilge in its cooling system with a rig Robert Peary
fixed up, which helped the pumping a lot.
At once we got some Eskimos on board to do the pumping. Cap’n Bob went
ashore to see how deep the water was on the beach and what the slope
was, to see if he could beach the Morrissey. Later in the afternoon the
Governor and his assistants told us that there was a place about ten
English miles (the Danish mile is about four of ours) up a fjord from
Upernivik where the vessel could be beached easily. It was a place they
used for their own vessels to get at their bottoms.
We left right away and it took about two hours and a half to get there.
On the way over we went through a kind of natural gate in the rocks
that seemed about as wide as the length of the ship. It was very, very
deep because there was a mountain on either side with sheer cliffs
going straight down for probably a great many fathoms.
They anchored the boat to wait for a big tide while Cap’n Bob got
things ready to try and get her out so work could be done on the
bottom. The trouble was that the damage was on the very bottom of the
keel so that just to keel her over on her side did no good. From
Upernivik Dad had arranged to take up with us a dozen Greenlanders to
help with the heavy work, like shifting ballast. Also we borrowed from
the Governor his blacksmith and some tools.
The next day some of us took the Governor back to Upernivik in our
launch. Doctor Heinbecker and I stayed there, visiting Dr. Rasmussen,
the woman doctor who lives there and visits all around at the little
settlements. She makes these trips in her own little power boat, with a
couple of Eskimos to run it for her. She is a Dane, and most awfully
nice. She is very big and strong, and they tell grand stories about how
she drives her dog team in the winter and can tire out men who try to
keep up to her. All the time we were at Upernivik she let us sleep in
comfortable beds in her little hospital, and in every way treated us
splendidly. While visiting there we had some interesting things to eat,
like seal meat, auks, duck and ducks’ eggs.
That afternoon Dr. Rasmussen got a message that someone was sick in a
little village called Augpilagtok, only a few miles from where the
Morrissey was. The others returned to the Morrissey and Doc and I went
with the Lady Doctor to this village, asking that they send over there
to get us. We went in her little boat which was built in Denmark. It is
very sturdy and good in the ice, ploughing along just as if there was
no ice at all.
In Augpilagtok there was a tiny store in a little room joined to the
house of the head man. His name was Imik and later he went with Dad on
a three days trip, to the glaciers and the ice cap. In the store they
sold lead for the bullets which they made in crude moulds, and also
caps and powder. Their rifles shoot both shotgun shells and rifle
bullets, and they make all the ammunition themselves. Here the Eskimos
have money which they use in the store to buy biscuit, sugar, tobacco
and other things. These are weighed out on funny little scales the
weights of which were two old brass hinges.
After a while our launch came with Dad and some of the others and we
all went back to the Morrissey, through lots of ice. Most of the way
the Lady Doctor’s boat, the Mitik, which is very broad in the beam,
ploughed through the ice in front, with our launch trailing along
behind.
When we arrived at the Morrissey the Captain wanted to get rid of some
of us, to make things easier for Billy, the cook, who had the big bunch
of Eskimos on his hands. Also, they were moving ballast and getting
ready to put the vessel over on her side which would mean putting out
the fires and having everyone camp on shore. The Lady Doctor invited
our Doc, Harry Raven and myself to go to town with her, which we did.
We went back to Upernivik in the Lady Doctor’s boat, reaching there
about four o’clock in the morning—broad daylight, of course, and with
the sun shining brightly, for all this time we were very lucky to have
fine weather and really quite warm. I suppose the temperature was about
sixty at the warmest and never got below forty.
During lunch, at two o’clock that afternoon we heard another great
yelling from the natives.
“Umiaksoah!” they yelled. That is the word for ship. (I have spelled it
the way it sounds to me.)
To our great surprise we saw a battleship coming into the harbor. It
proved to be the Islands Falk, meaning the Iceland Falcon, the Danish
patrol ship. It had heard by radio of our trouble while it was away
down in south Greenland and at once had started north to rescue us. The
first report, relayed to them by radio from an American vessel in the
north, said we had entirely lost the Morrissey and were all on shore.
Just why such a report was sent we could not imagine, as of course we
had sent out no word of that kind.
Anyway, later on Captain West of the Falcon got another word from the
Canadian ship Boethic which was over on the Canadian side. The Boethic
had had wireless word with us, and told Captain West the real facts,
which were that we were working south to Upernivik to make repairs. So
the Falcon came to Upernivik to help us.
I got a small boat and rowed out to the battleship and went aboard. To
my great surprise I was greeted by Dr. Knud Rasmussen who had come up
on the Falcon from Disko where we had been supposed to meet him. But
his ship from Denmark had been very late and he failed to connect with
us there. I told him about what had happened to us.
Then Captain West, Commander Riis-Carstensen, Dr. Rasmussen and others
went up to the Morrissey to offer help. In the end they sent a fine lot
of men up there with a diver and boats and everything. The diver worked
for about six days, while the Danish officers and sailors lived aboard
and camped ashore. It proved that with the diver it was possible to get
the leaks just about stopped. But I think that without him we would
have had pretty serious trouble. The hard part was to get at the
damaged place, which was on the very bottom of the vessel. And at the
beaching place where they sent us it turned out there was not enough
tide to get the bottom clear out of water.
We certainly were very grateful to the Danish officials for all they
did for us. No one could possibly have been nicer or more generous. And
I never saw a finer lot of men. It was great fun for me to be with them
on the ship and around town. Most of the sixty men aboard were from all
over Denmark, fine younger men who were doing their one year of
compulsory naval service. In Denmark every man has to serve in the army
or navy for about a year of training. And I think they all love to get
on this Greenland trip, it is so different.
While they were working on the boat we moved into Upernivik, Doc, Harry
and I. Dad took three men up to the glacier, where they got pictures
and collected some bird specimens.
It was a very gay time for Upernivik, probably about the most exciting
they ever had. For not only was the Morrissey there but also the Falcon
with a crew of sixty, most of whom were ashore much of the time. There
was a dance in a big warehouse near the wharf every night, which always
lasted until morning. In fact, there just wasn’t any night. In the
summer when a boat comes to those far away towns, they forget all about
sleeping. Everyone stays up all the time. For the people in the boats
it really is pretty hard, for the people ashore at least can go to
sleep when the boat leaves, while it is just then that the work starts
for the travellers.
At Upernivik is the farthest north church in the world, they told me. A
new building had just been completed, and on the Sunday we were there
it was opened. There was a great crowd, and the Governor wore his high
hat and everything. Of course we all went, and to the native wedding
that afternoon. The hymns were sung in Eskimo, and there was a long
Eskimo sermon. The first church in Upernivik was built away back in
1780.
On the evening of August tenth the Morrissey came back to the harbor.
The diver had fixed her up finely. Captain West gave Captain Bartlett a
letter saying she was quite seaworthy. So we were very happy, as it
meant we could keep on with our trip, which had come so near to ending
in disaster. And we decided to go north again, taking Knud Rasmussen to
Thule.
The night before we left they gave us a grand party at Governor Otto’s.
All the shutters were closed so the house would be dark. Then, to make
it pretty, they lit many candles. Eighteen people crowded into the
little dining-room, and there were speeches and quite a fine
celebration. I went to bed pretty early but the older people, I think,
did not turn in until seven in the morning.
On the Iceland Falcon, the last night, there was another farewell
party, Cap’n Bob and Dad dining with Captain West. They loaded on the
Morrissey the stores of Dr. Rasmussen and his baggage. He was going
back with us all the way to New York, so he had a good deal of clothes
and the like.
As we up-anchored and got under way we dipped our flag and fired our
biggest rifle three times in salute. Then the Falcon answered with
three shots from one of her big guns, and the people on shore fired
another salute with their small cannon. Altogether it was a very gay
send-off. The Governor was out in his big rowboat, waving good-bye to
us. Certainly Upernivik could have treated us no better, and we all
appreciated it.
And then we headed north again, with Dr. Rasmussen. And we felt mighty
lucky to be on our way again, instead of retreating south. Before us
lay our third crossing of Melville Bay, which is quite a record for one
season.
Dr. Rasmussen, for instance, has crossed it about forty times. Probably
he has travelled up here more than any other living man. He told me
that once it took six weeks to get just across Melville Bay, his boat
being frozen in solid in the pack ice, and just drifting. How lucky we
have been to get across three times with practically no ice at all.