"To claim the Arctic came the sun,
With banners of the burning zone
Unrolled upon their airy spars.
They froze beneath the light of stars,
And there they float, those streamers old,
Those Northern Lights, forever cold."
|The neighborhood of Cape Byam Martin was considered good whaling
ground, so we spent the next few days cruising off it and the coast
further down, but without seeing anything of interest. Even seals were
scarce. It was remarkable how few we saw north of the Arctic circle.
By going aloft, one could always see, in some direction on the ice, a
black dot, which represented a seal, but after the tens of thousands
seen on the coasts of Newfoundland and Labrador, they were scarce
indeed; in fact, I never shot one during the whole northern trip.
We found Ponds Bay that paradise of the old whalers so full of ice that
we were unable to visit the natives, which was a great disappointment
to us all. It was a bad year for seeing much of the land as there was so
much ice coming down.
From the ship, the line of the shore looked straight, except off the
bay, but there were great fiords running into the land for miles. One of
them, known as "Hell's Kitchen," had been a noted place for whalers. Two
branches of it, named respectively, "Morris" and "Cooney" extended far
into the country, one of them having been navigated by Captain Guy for
about forty miles.
Ponds Bay was a celebrated place for salmon fishing, the whalers often
getting wonderful catches there, thereby improving their menu greatly.
At this time, the weather was very wintry, frost and snow reminding us
of where we were, and by the night of Sunday, the 17th, we were only off
Cape Bowen.
Monday was a beautiful day and we were fast to the shore floe, a long
way from the land. The Captain decided to improve the shining hour by
having the ship painted, so the boats were put upon the ice and the men
employed, cleaning and painting. The _Aurora_ was comparatively new, so
it was very easy cleaning her, as her woodwork was good and she had been
well kept up. Even washing her down with the alkaline solution used gave
her a nice appearance. By evening, a great deal had been accomplished
and inside she looked very neat.
The little auks were numerous about here. One of our firemen killed
three with a broom handle and I shot a fine bag. There was a good flight
of ducks along the floe edge and I had several shots at them. As the
birds were young, they were worth having, being free from the fishy
flavor peculiar to their parents.
[Illustration: 0319]
_August 19th._ We finished painting the boats, but left them on the ice,
excepting two from which the lines had not been removed.
Our fishing, so far, had nearly all been floe edge. We had not entered
the middle pack very far, where the whales were sometimes numerous at
this season. The enormous amount of ice made the Captain think twice
about pushing his ship, with her valuable cargo, into it, and so we kept
quietly down the coast, occasionally going out a little where the ice
was loose, but remembering Sir Leopold McClintock's winter in the middle
pack with the _Fox._
The southwest fishing, to which we were now going, was generally
prosecuted in the autumn. The ships lay at anchor in some harbor, and
every morning the boats rowed out and watched for whales. It was cold,
dreary work and very unpopular with the men; but whales killed late in
the season were often large and well worth looking for.
_August 20th. Wednesday_. The boats were hoisted up this day and, with
the Captain, I went on the ice to look at the ship. It was cold and I
had on half-boots, a thick double-breasted monkey jacket, with leather
gauntlets and a leather sealing cap. We walked to where the painting had
been done and there admired the ship. She looked well, sitting rather
down by the stern. All the crew, practically, had been standing on this
ice for the last two days and nothing had happened: I went rather close
to the edge and the piece I was standing on gave way and I went down at
once, but on coming up, with one or two strokes, reached the ice edge.
It took some seconds for my clothes to soak as I had so much on, and by
that time, one of the men, Jock Fairly, came with a boat hook, by
the help of which I was pulled out. My clothes were so completely
water-logged that, without assistance, getting out would have been
impossible. Again the gentle warmth of the top of the boiler proved a
comfort.
_August 21st. Thursday_. Hooked on, with a stiff breeze blowing and the
sky overcast. Ducks were flying in great numbers past a point half a
mile away, so, taking the dingey, I went off to it. There was no shelter
and, although every bird must have seen me, the silly things would not
leave the ice edge, but would just swing out far enough to make my shots
effective. This shooting both barrels into the "brown," as the ducks
passed, was not so much fun as getting them in pairs, but one soon
picks up a good bag, and as I was shooting for the pot, a bag was what I
wanted. When I came on board, the birds were tied in bundles and hung up
on the davit guys above the quarter boats.
August 22nd. During the afternoon, a bear was seen, so we went off in a
boat to capture it. As there was no solid ice, the beast had to get out
of and into the water so many times that he could not escape, and he was
killed from the boat by the mate. I landed and tried to stalk him, but
he left my pan and I could not follow him.
Two ships were in sight southeast of us. One of them was the
_Cornwallis,_ which we had not seen for some time. I was anxious to get
near her as Armitage was on hoard, but she was a long way off. We always
knew the other, the _Esquimaux_, by her mizzentop, as she had once been
a full-rigged ship, although now a barque.
On Saturday, the wind blew a gale, which kept us dodging under the
canvas; but by Sunday the weather had improved.
During the morning we sailed up to the shore floe, as we saw some
natives there, and picked them up. They had tusks and dog skins for
trade. We took them, with their dogs and sledges, on board. One of them
was a good-looking, pleasant native, called Enu. He added greatly to
my Eskimo vocabulary during the next few days, and he told me that deer
were plentiful in certain places and that salmon abounded. We steamed
south all day, after picking up the natives, the weather being cold but
fine.
_August 25th. Monday_. Steaming down the coast and the weather quite
fine. During the afternoon, a black spot inshore indicated the mouth of
a river. The shore floe at this point was a mile wide, but the ice was
smooth. A boat and the dingey with a net and ten men were sent to try
to catch some salmon. A number of men were sent to haul the boats across
the floe to the open water of the river mouth, and the natives came
also. Mr. Adam took the boat and I took the dingey. We had a boat's
sail, plenty of coal, two ship's kettles, coffee, sugar, salt, biscuits
and tins of mutton. Arriving at the open water, our helpers returned
to the ship, and the natives, after turning their sleds upside down, so
that the dogs could not run away with them, came with us in the boats.
We rowed into a river, which was about thirty or forty yards wide at the
mouth, shallow and placid. We went up a short distance and camped on the
right bank. Above our camp, the river was a nice-looking little salmon
stream; but below, it was more pretentious looking on account of its
width. The net was drawn, with no result. It was tried in another place
without getting a fin. Then, as it was growing late, we returned to
camp. Tying two oars together, with their blades crossed, we laid the
end of the long steering oar between these and this gave us an excellent
frame for our tent, completed by throwing the large square boat's sail
over it and tucking two of the corners underneath. Then a fine coal fire
was started, a kettle of coffee made, and an excellent hash prepared,
by mixing tinned mutton, sea biscuits, snow, pepper and salt. We enjoyed
this thoroughly and I sat by the camp fire afterwards and listened
to these men tell tales of happenings in former years. Thus, on the
unhospitable shores of Baffin Bay, I had my first experience of camp
life. After awhile I noticed that in spite of my clothing, my back was
cold, so I turned it to the fire. Then my face was nearly frozen, so
I turned back. In the excitement of starting, I had thrown a rug into
the boat and not thought of blankets. Now I began to wish I had brought
some, for I spent a miserable night, waking up very often with the cold.
_August 26th._ At last the tedious night came to an end, and breakfast
thawed us out and made things look more cheerful. The day was fine, so
the _Aurora_ was safe, and preparations were made for further fishing.
Had the morning looked threatening, the ship would probably have
signalled us to come on board. I am a keen fisherman, but the net did
not appeal to me very much; so I decided to see what the country looked
like and, taking Enu with me, went up the river. The bitterly cold night
had caused some ice, so the men waited for a higher sun to dissipate
this before we left camp. I found the country flat, as a whole, with low
hills in the background. The native gave me to understand that beyond
these hills was the caribou country, but one dared not risk going far
from the ship, and so my chance of bagging a barren land head was small.
Little gulches led away from the river, on the exposed sides of which
there was no snow, but boggy ground and bad walking; while on the shady
sides the ground was frozen and covered with patches of snow. I saw some
places on the river which made me long to try the fly, and I am sure
good sport could have been obtained. After a very tiresome walk of some
hours, during which I did not see a bird or beast, I returned to camp.
On coming close, I saw a man walking from the river with a salmon in
each hand, the first two caught. They had tried a number of places and
had caught only these, so they sent them to camp for dinner. One was put
in a big ship's kettle to boil, and the other split and cut into pieces
which were hung around the fire on stakes made from driftwood. Each
salmon weighed about ten pounds, the flesh being very red, and while
they did not compare with those from home rivers, we considered them
excellent, as they were the first fresh fish we had had on the voyage.
Leaving camp, I went down to the boat and found they had just taken a
splendid haul; the net was shot several times and a grand total of 108
fish counted out. Dinner was ready when we reached the fire and some
more fish were staked out to cook.
This delicate repast over, our things were carried down to the boats and
we made our way back as we had come. Seeing us from the ship, help had
been sent to bring the boats across the ice.
Many of the whalers fish for salmon every year and sometimes catch great
numbers. The best place is, as stated before, a river flowing into Ponds
Bay. Here several thousands are often taken.
The Eskimo dogs had eaten their harness and gone away, excepting two
lame fellows, and the natives made these pull them to the ship.
[Illustration: 0327]
_August 27th. Wednesday._ Enu, with his menage, left for home, and after
breakfast we unhooked, and stood along the floe edge. From the "crow's
nest" I saw with the glass a number of Eskimo sledges travelling north.
They made no attempt to come near us, but kept close to the shore. At
noon we were going among some loose ice, so hooked on. I had a very
pleasant afternoon at the ducks and secured a good bag. All the birds
killed were young eider. In fact, on the voyage, I only killed three
varieties of duck, eider, king eider and long tail.
_August 28th. Thursday_. Two sledges with natives came off. There was
a very hungry woman with them. I saw her picking at everything soft
on board. She found the side of a box in which plug tobacco had been
packed, and picked it up; there were some leaves of tobacco adhering to
it. I saw her picking pieces of them and eating them.
[Illustration: 0331]
Dividing the 'tween-decks from the lower forecastle, there was a
partition with a door. Just outside of this door stood a barrel into
which the cook threw refuse from the gallery, which was just within the
forecastle. I saw this polar American beauty put her arm into the barrel
and bring forth a duck's skin, which had a tremendous coating of fat.
She seized the skin with both hands and pulled the fat off with her
teeth, devouring it greedily. When she came to the neck, she chewed it,
bones and all. There were some most interesting children on board and
they thoroughly enjoyed the coffee and biscuit with which they were
supplied by the Captain's orders. We got some dog skins and small
articles from these people, but they had already been visited by some of
the ships and their bear skins and horns taken.
_August 29th_. On Friday the natives left us early. We unhooked and
sailed east, with a breeze from the south. We saw a bear and cub on the
ice, so lowered away and went after them. Both took to the water, and
we had to go around a large island of ice before we could reach them. I
landed on this, and running across, tried a shot at them in the water,
but they had gone too far and were behind hummocks of ice, so that I
could not see them. The boat then overtook them and the mate shot both.
As nothing more was seen among the loose ice we steamed to the floe edge
and hooked on. I bagged a few ducks in the evening.
_August 30th. Saturday_. We steamed down the coast and hooked on off
Cape Raper. Two natives came on board, and we bought a live fox from one
of them. It was young and blue, and spent the rest of the voyage walking
about the funnel casing, where its home was in a lime-juice box. The
natives left during the afternoon and we remained at the floe edge all
night.
It was a beautiful calm Sunday and the last day of August on which we
arrived at Cape Kater. The _Cornwallis_ very soon afterwards came in and
I went on board at once.
They had had a most unsuccessful voyage as the ship had been spoiled for
sailing by having an engine put in which was of no use. They had killed
a whale and picked up a dead one, having one ton of bone from the two.
Poor old Captain Nichol was very much depressed. Every one said he was
a fine sailor; that his blood was tar and his flesh rope yams. They told
us that the other ships had done well, the _Nova Zembla_ having eight,
the _Polynia_ six and the _Esquimaux_ ten whales when last seen.
Armitage came on shore with me and we visited some native habitations.
They were tents made of skin, and the sun beating on them made them warm
inside; but as there was not a particle of ventilation, the odor was the
worst possible. We saw in them the stone lamps in which the seal oil was
burned, moss being used as a wick; sometimes old tins served the purpose
instead of stone.
[Illustration: 0335]
This country is generally called Baffin Land. There is, however, no
reason to believe that it is not divided up by channels into many
islands. No doubt passages exist connecting Davis Straits with Fox
Channel.
Much of the coast line is uncharted, especially north of Fox Land.
Fiords running south from Eclipse Sound have been visited by whalers,
but not explored; possibly they could be traced to Fury and Hecla
Straits.
Whaling stations have several times been established on the west coast,
at Exeter Sound and Cumberland Gulf--the first party wintering at the
latter place in 1852, to the detriment of the natives.
These improvident people with modern rifles would kill all the game
they could shoot, use what they required at the time and waste the rest,
whereas in old times they could just secure enough for their wants.
Again, children were brought up formerly in a hardy way, and taught how
to wrest a living from the inhospitable country. Now by loafing around a
settlement they acquire some of the pernicious habits of civilized men,
and learn to depend upon the European and his ship, forgetting that
these might be withdrawn at any time.
[Illustration: 0339]
Monday was spent wandering about, but without seeing anything of
interest. The _Cornwallis_ was still hooked on when we left Cape Kater,
on Tuesday. We kept away from the coast to look for a berg from which we
might water. The weather was clear and frosty, and at night the aurora
borealis was very beautiful.
_September 3rd. Wednesday._ We found a floe fast to the base of a very
large berg, and on this there was a lake of fresh water frozen over. The
ship being made fast, a hole was drilled in the ice and our water tanks
filled.
On the berg there was a white fox, but no shooting at it was allowed
lest the concussion should bring down masses of ice. By evening we moved
away and made fast to a floe far from our dangerous neighbor. The cold
was intense and bay ice formed around the ship.
I heard the thunder of splitting bergs several times during the night;
they sounded like avalanches among the Alps in the springtime. At this
season, especially on very cold nights, bergs often split and turn over
owing to water freezing in crevices formed by the warm summer sun, and
for this reason they are avoided as much as possible. We now spent five
days dodging about under canvas with fires banked. Part of the time we
were off Cape Hooper and part off Home Bay, but we did not see a single
whale.
The weather was for the most part fine, but bitterly cold. If a mist
arose at night the ship presented a curious spectacle in the morning,
her rigging being coated with ice.
Our handy tradesmen during this period made some pretty things. The
carpenter presented the Captain with a neat model of a ship, while the
cooper turned out a tobacco box which was a work of art.
_September 8th. Monday_. We bore up for home. What cheerful news it was!
Passage sails were bent, boats taken in and placed on skids, bunkers
were coaled and all was life and bustle. Every one was happy. The voyage
had been a success, and we had not had a serious accident.
The "crow's nest" was sent down, nautical time adopted and the watch
set. To crown all, a fresh breeze sprang up, and with everything set and
steaming full speed we started down the Straits.
By bedtime we were in a heavy fog, so the canvas was taken off and
the engines slowed down. During the night the phosphorescence was very
beautiful. Pieces of ice thrown away by the propeller looked like balls
of fire, while the water immediately around the stern seemed all aflame.
For the next two days we had fog, so made little progress at night.
During the day the men were employed washing lines and stowing them
away. Guns and harpoons were cleaned and greased and the ship was
thoroughly washed.
On the 11th, we had a strong gale with a dark and cloudy sky. It was
strange to be at sea and feel the motion of the ship after weeks of
smooth water amidst the ice. After this the sea was smooth, and we had
fog all the time until, off Cape Farewell on the 15th, the day being
fine, the ship was hove to and painted outside. A dense fog came down
that night, and we did not make another observation until off the
Scottish coast.
On Saturday, September 20th, the fog was very dense and we steamed
slowly until noon, when it lifted for a short time and showed us the
island of St. Kilda. I was sorry we could not land here as it was a
wonderful breeding place for the fulmar petrels; but home was in sight,
and Captain Fairweather did not want to linger on a rock-bound coast, so
we steered north and on Sunday morning, the 21st, we were off the Butt
of Lewis.
It was thick at times during the morning, but cleared in the afternoon
and gave us a view of the Orkneys. The Captain decided to go north of
Orkney, as he did not like the Pentland Firth with so much fog about. At
night the weather was perfectly clear.
_September 22nd. Monday._ On deck in the morning every one was looking
pleasant, and the ship neat. We were crossing the Moray Firth and coming
close to the Aberdeen coast. A fishing boat from Fraserborough was
hailed and an assortment of fish purchased for breakfast. These were
paid for with tobacco, and the pay was liberal. The first question asked
by us was, "Is England at war?" This being answered in the negative,
greatly pleased those of the crew who were naval reserve men. Eight
bells struck and my last breakfast on board the _Aurora_ was served.
After breakfast we passed Peterhead, formerly a great port for whalers,
and then we steamed south close to the coast. The yellow fields of grain
and stubble, the cottages and the trees, looked to our snow-dazzled eyes
like Fairy Land. We passed Aberdeen and Stonehaven. We were close enough
to see Dunottar's grim ruin, then Montrose, and in a short time our
pilot was on board with all the news, and we were at home.
Of the Davis Straits ships in 1884 one was lost, the _Narwhal_; but now,
with the exception of the _Active and Aurora_, the weed-grown ribs of
the entire fleet rest beneath the waters of the cold northern seas and
the records of their crews' escapes and hardships would fill volumes.
APPENDIX
Notice of arrival of whalers in _Dundee Advertiser_ of September 23rd:
DUNDEE ADVERTISER, SEPTEMBER 23RD, 1884.
The Esquimaux--The Loss of Two Men.
The _Esquimaux_, Capt. Milne, arrived in the Tay last night from Davis
Straits, and will be docked with this morning's tide. The Esquimaux was
unsuccessful at the Newfoundland seal fishing, only 1,900 seals having
been secured; but she has brought a fair cargo from Davis Straits,
consisting of 11 whales, which will yield 140 tons of oil and 6 tons
of whalebone. Two fatalities have, unfortunately, occurred during the
voyage. Early in the season a young man named Allan Smith, a native
of Dundee, was dragged overboard by the line catching him after a
bottle-nosed whale had been struck, and he was never seen again. It is
a painful circumstance that Smith's father was lost from the same ship
several years ago. Another of the crew was lost during the passage home.
He accidentally fell overboard, and a boat was sent in search of
him. After some time he was picked up in semi-lifeless state, and all
attempts to restore animation failed.
Dundee Advertiser, September 23rd, 1884.
DAVIS STRAITS WHALE FISHING--ARRIVAL OF AURORA.
The steamer Aurora, belonging to Messrs. Alex. Stephen & Sons, arrived
at Dundee yesterday afternoon from the Davis Straits whale fishing.
The _Aurora_, commanded by Capt. Jas. Fair-weather, has had a very
successful voyage. At Newfoundland 28,150 seals were secured during the
two trips, the _Aurora_ being the only one of the Dundee fleet which was
fortunate in securing a good catch. On the 8th May she left St. John's
for Davis Straits, and on reaching Disco fell in with the _Thetis_ and
_Bear_, on their way north in search of the Greely Expedition. The three
ships thereafter kept in company until they reached the north
water, when Capt. Fairweather steamed across to Lancaster Sound. An
impenetrable barrier of ice blocked the Sound, a circumstance which told
in favor of the fishing, as a large number of whales were secured at
the edge of the ice. The crew were successful in capturing ten, and also
three bottle-noses, which will yield 105 tons of oil and about 5 tons of
whalebone. As the season advanced the fishing was prosecuted along the
west coast of Davis Straits, but without success, owing to the immense
quantities of ice, which seemed never to have been driven out of the
Straits this year. The frost came on unusually early and very severe, 12
to 14 degrees being registered in August. Capt. Fairweather bore up for
home on the 8th Sept, and experienced a good deal of foggy weather in
crossing the Atlantic. He confirms the news previously received of the
catches of the fleet, and mentions that the _Polynia_ is the only vessel
which has added to her cargo, which now consists of 6 whales, equal
to 60 tons of oil. The _Triune_ sailed for home on the 6th Sept. Capt.
Fairweather has brought home a fine specimen of the Sabine gull, a bird
rarely to be met with in Davis Straits. It ought to be mentioned that
the crew of the _Aurora_, after receiving the news of the _Chieftain_
disaster from the pilot at the mouth of the river, subscribed the sum of
£20 185s. to the fund.
Whalers sailing from Dundee in 1884:
[Illustration: 0345]
A list of Greenland and Davis Straits ships sailing from Holland, from
Dr. Lang's book:
[Illustration: 0346]
Ships at Greenland and Davis Straits, with number of whales killed:
[Illustration: 0347]
The above list shows how the trade changed in a few years from London to
Hull, and it also shows how Scotland increased her fleet, while England
reduced hers.
In an old work--"McPherson's Annals of Commerce," is found the following
list of ships sent to the whaling:
[Illustration: 0348]
Whaling was now confined to Dundee Peterhead, and remained so until
1900, when Peterhead sent her last whaler to sea, and since then the
industry has been carried on by Dundee alone.
In 1733 a bounty of twenty shillings a ton on ships over two hundred
tons was given by the English Government, and in 1749 this was doubled
to induce competition with the Dutch.
[Illustration: 0349]