A VOYAGE TO THE ARCTIC IN THE WHALER AURORA
By David Moore Lindsay, F. R. G. S.
"Our infant winter sinks, divested of its grandeur, should our eye
astonish'd shoot into the frigid zone."
BOSTON: DANA ESTES & COMPANY PUBLISHERS
1911
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DEDICATED
TO
SIR THOMAS MYLES
A VOYAGE TO THE ARCTIC IN THE WHALER AURORA
CHAPTER I--INTRODUCTION
The following is little more than a diary of a voyage made by me on the
whaler _Aurora_ of Dundee in 1884. I cannot imagine its being read by
many, as the subject can only interest a few who have themselves gone
down to the sea in ships.
The Arctic whaling industry is I fear becoming a thing of the past, and
this prompts me to have the record of our successful voyage printed.
Some mention has been made of the Greely Relief Expedition, as the
relief ships were with the whalers during the passage to Cape York from
Newfoundland.
We were not brought in contact with the _Chieftain_ at all during the
cruise, but I have told the story of her disaster, as it was the most
unfortunate occurrence of the year amongst the Arctic whalers, and for
the data I am very much indebted to the _Dundee Advertiser_ and to Mr.
Allen Bell and Mr. Harvey of that paper for the trouble they have taken
about it. I am also indebted to Mr. Robert Kinnis of Dundee for much
interesting whaling information in the Appendix. As that gentleman
possesses the records of all catches taken by British ships for more
than a hundred years, he is in a position to supply very valuable data
on the subject.
Mr. Walter Kinnis kindly supplied me with many photographs, as did Dr.
Crawford, formerly of the _Arctic_, and Captain Murray of Dundee.
It has given me great pleasure recalling the scenes described. As I
was very young at the time of the voyage they produced an indelible
impression. Often since have I longed for a few weeks in Lancaster
Sound, and to hear once more the inspiring shout "A fall!"
Being fond of adventure, and having read as many works on the subject as
most boys of my age, it was with great pleasure that I looked forward
to hearing a lecture delivered by Commander Cheyne, R.N. I was then at
school, and our tutor thought it would be an education for us to hear
him. The lecture was to me intensely interesting and the illustrations
splendid. For days after I could not think of anything else. During
study at night, I used to spend a good deal of time looking at a map
of the Arctic seas, and picturing Melville Bay with its dangers. After
leaving school, and while at college, I read Walter Scott's "Pirate." It
told about the Orkneys and Shetlands, and its frequent allusions to the
whaling industry set me thinking. I found myself often repeating:
"The ship, well laden as barque need be,
Lies deep in the furrow of the Iceland sea.
The breeze for Zetland blows fair and soft
And gaily the garland is fluttering aloft.
Seven good fishes have spouted their last,
And their jawbones are hanging from yard and mast;
Two are for Lerwick, and two for Kirkwall,
And three for Burgh-Westra, the choicest of all."
As there was no immediate chance of going to Greenland, why not see
Shetland? So when the summer holidays came, I made my way to Edinburgh
with two friends who had also read the "Pirate."
We found that steamers sailed from Leith and that the best of the
fleet, the _St. Magnus_, would leave the next morning at six, so we
took passage in her and visited Orkney and Shetland, thoroughly enjoying
being off the beaten track.
One day we sat on the Nab Head at Lerwick and looked over a calm sea. In
the distance a barque could be descried. Half an hour later we noticed
her much closer, although no sails hung from her yards. Then we
discovered that while barque rigged she could also steam, and when she
anchored we found that she was a whaler, the _Eclipse_ of the Peter
Head,--Captain Gray. We went on board and were shown over the ship.
Polar bear skins were stretched in frames drying, and we learned that
she had 3,500 seals on board and 17 bottle-nosed whales, and, what was
of far more consequence to me, that she carried a surgeon.
Years passed; I was a student at the University of Edinburgh and had
every opportunity of learning about ships sailing from Scottish ports.
One day in November, 1883, I went to Dundee and, leaving the Tay Bridge
station, made my way along the docks to a basin in which were several
whalers. They were discharging cargo, and it was unnecessary to see them
to know of their presence. Two of the ships, though small, were very
beautiful to look at. They were the _Jan Mayen_ and the _Nova Zembla_.
Others, the _Narwhal, Polynia, Esquimaux, Active_, etc., were not so
pretty, but they all had a fascination--they came from the romantic
Arctic, and I went on board each one. Then I visited another dock where
three ships lay together. They were the _Arctic_, the _Aurora_ and
the _Thetis._ It required no expert to tell that they were vessels
of superior quality. I went on board the one nearest the shore, the
_Thetis_, and interviewed the mate. He told me that all three ships
would carry surgeons. The _Arctic_ and _Thetis_ were bound for Davis
Straits, the _Aurora_ for Greenland.
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The office of the company, Wm. Steven & Son, was near by, so I left the
ship very much excited. Here was almost a chance to visit the Arctic
regions. Going over to the office, I learned that the captain of a
whaler selected his own surgeon, and that Captain James Fairweather of
the _Aurora_ had just been there. I obtained his address, and calling
a cab, was soon at his house. He was not in, but I waited. Seated in a
room on the floor of which polar bear rugs were stretched, I began to
realize that I was taking a rather serious step without consulting
my parents. Before long the Captain entered, and after a little
conversation, I arranged to sail as the _Aurora's_ surgeon the following
January. So without really meaning to go when I left my rooms in the
morning, I found myself in the railway carriage on the way back to
Edinburgh, booked for an unusual voyage.
During the winter I told some friends what I intended to do, and one
of them at once went to Dundee and secured the _Arctic_, the captain of
which was an Irishman. Another was also desirous of going, but said he
would wait until I returned and told him how I liked it. However he too
went in the end and we met in the north.
The _Aurora_ was bound for the Newfoundland sealing first and
afterwards for the Greenland whaling; that is to say, she would fish for
bottlenosed whales on the east side of Greenland in the seas around Jan
Mayen and Spitzbergen and make a shorter voyage of it than the Davis
Straits ships.
To prepare myself for the experience I read what I could about
Greenland, and was fascinated by the prospect of seeing its icy
mountains and possibly some of its inhabitants; while the very word
Spitzbergen suggested to me polar bears and icebergs. In January, 1884,
a letter from the Captain told me he would sail about the end of the
month and requested me to be in Dundee by the 29th.
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I bought a lot of unnecessary clothing, such as pilot-cloth suits lined
with flannel. When the flannel became wet afterwards it wonderfully
altered the fit of the things, so I removed it with my knife. I also
laid in a supply of literature, arms and ammunition, and left the
Waverley station at six on the morning of the 29th. Arriving at Dundee,
I went to a hotel and then to the office, where I met the Captain, and
went with him to the place where the men were signing on. Here I heard
some one reading rapidly a lot about the nature of the voyage and what
we would have to eat. When I left the building, I was a legal member
of the _Aurora's_ crew for the coming cruise, and my rating was that of
surgeon, with pay as follows:
£. s. d
Monthly pay 2 0 0
Oil money per ton 2 0
Bone per ton 4 0
Seal skins per 1,000 1 0
I had to furnish my own cabin and to pay the market price for any trophy
of my own shooting which I wanted to keep. As our voyage was in pursuit
of Arctic animals and as I was a member of the crew sent for that
purpose, of course this was quite right.
It was possible for me to increase the above pay by being in fast boats.
Let me explain what I mean: when a boat first strikes a fish it is
called a fast boat; and if the whale is killed, every one in the boat
receives what is called striking money. The harpooner gets ten shillings
for putting in the gun harpoon, and ten and six pence for the hand, or a
guinea for both, while every member of the crew receives half a crown in
either case.
It was my good fortune during the following eight months to increase my
wages by two shillings and six pence in this way. Having fixed terms and
other details I went on board the ship which was to be my home for
some months to come. She was a pretty auxiliary barque of 386 tons
registered. Her engines were about a hundred horse power. She had a
top-gallant forecastle and a raised poop. Running forward from the poop
was the engine room skylight, which ended at the funnel casing, and
steps led from the poop to the main deck on each side of it. The funnel
was painted buff, the ship outside was black, and the bulwarks inside
white and blue. The bridge was across the engine room skylight and in
front of the mizzenmast, an iron railing around the poop, offering no
protection from the weather, while a companion opened aft in front of
our two wheels. The pretty little cabin was furnished in pitch pine and
leather. The Captain's room occupied the starboard side, while mine was
on the port, both opening into the cabin. Forward of my room was that
occupied by the first and second mates, and this looked into the passage
at the foot of the stairs. Forward of the passage was the pantry and
also the engineer's room. A locker in which things were stowed occupied
the stern and opened into the cabin. Forward of the cabin table was a
stove in which there was a cheerful fire, and in the square skylight
hung a bird's cage and a garland, also some plants.
Finding out what I wanted for my room, I went into the town, ordered the
things and had them sent down.
_January 30_. Two acquaintances, whose identity I may indicate by the
initials H. and P., turned up this day to see me off. I took them over
the ship, but they were not very enthusiastic. We afterwards went around
the docks and saw the other whalers getting ready for sea. Quantities
of marmalade and dozens of hams were being put on board the _Esquimaux_.
Two of the whalers had already departed, the _Narwhal_ and _Polynia_,
while others were not starting for a week to come; but as there were
uncertainties about the western ocean's passage in winter, Captain
Fairweather had decided not to wait longer than the 31st.
It snowed a little, which made the docks look dreary. I met the
Captain's wife on board during the afternoon, also his brother, who had
command of the _Thetis_.
The following day Armitage arrived. He brought me a big meerschaum pipe,
and was delighted with the ship, so pleased that he visited many others
to see if he could not secure a berth on one of them. But those carrying
surgeons had their medical officers engaged. We wandered around the
docks all the morning and at noon I went on board.
The _Aurora_ left the dock at one P. M. and anchored for a short time in
the river to pick up a few belated and more or less incapable members of
the crew, and to land some stowaways.
My friends stood on the dockhead with hundreds of others to see us off,
and as we passed through the gate, old shoes, oranges and other things
were thrown on board.
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I was walking about the poop with my hands deep in the pockets of my
pilot coat and looking at the sea of faces on the dock, when, stumbling
over a chain, down I came with a crash in the most ignominious way.
However a stumble and fall on board a whaler putting to sea generally
passes unnoticed; one would attract more attention by standing up all
the time! Thus the voyage began,--my position flat on deck, being in
keeping with the best traditions of the trade!