THE VOYAGE OF THE _POLARIS_
Death of Captain Hall--Crew determine to Return--Are Frozen in--A
Party take to the Ice and are Cast Away--They build themselves Snow
Huts--They find some Seals--An Adventure with Bears--The Perils of
the Spring--They sight the _Tigress_ and are Saved--The
Ship-Party's Story and Rescue.
The Government of the United States, in June 1871, despatched the
_Polaris_ to explore and survey the passage between Grinnel Land and
Greenland, and also, if possible, to push on to the Pole.
The _Polaris_, under the command of Captain Hall, sailed from New York
on June 29, 1871, with a crew of thirty-three, and provisioned for some
years. She succeeded in passing through Smith's Sound and Robeson
Channel, and on August 31 she had reached as high a latitude as 82 deg. 11'
N. Returning to the southward, she went into winter quarters; but on
November 8 her captain was struck down with apoplexy. Upon his death all
idea of going further to the North was abandoned, and, as soon as the
spring of 1872 commenced, preparations were made to return to New York.
The ice was particularly heavy, however, and very slow progress was made
when, by August, the _Polaris_ became entangled with some big floes
which checked her in every direction. On August 14, when off the
entrance of Kennedy Channel, in latitude 80 deg., the ice closed round her
and fixed her so firmly that every effort made by the crew to release
her was without avail. A series of floes had closed one upon the other,
and had so compressed themselves together, that all hope of extricating
the _Polaris_ until the ice itself broke up was reluctantly abandoned.
The pack in which she was involved continued to slowly drift to the
South until, two months after her capture, the ship had drifted in the
ice to 78 deg. 28' N. At this point a violent gale occurred, which resulted
in the series of adventures for her crew that has made the voyage of the
_Polaris_ so notable.
As the gale increased in intensity, the huge field of heavy ice in which
the vessel was imprisoned began to heave and grind in an alarming
manner. The masses joined together by the force of earlier collisions
broke asunder under the strain of the wind, but only to close in again
with terrific force and crashing. Every time that separated portions of
the pack came together with a crash, the ice around the vessel creaked
and moved, and the _Polaris_ herself strained in every timber under the
trial.
A sudden parting asunder of the pack where she was encased liberated her
for the moment. Freed from the grip of the ice, the force of the wind
was more evident, and she heeled over to the gale as it caught her in
the temporarily open water. Before she could right herself, the ice
closed in again upon her sides. The rending and crashing which followed
the "nip" convinced all on board that the vessel was too crushed ever to
float again, and, while the floe held together and she was kept from
foundering, the crew set about putting stores, tents, clothing, arms,
and anything else they could lay hands on, over the side on to the ice.
They feared that with the next split the vessel would be in the water
again, and there was no doubt in any one's mind but that she would then
sink like a stone. No one knew how long it might be before that split
came, and in the meantime every one worked at the only means of saving
their lives. Nineteen of the ship's company scrambled out on to the
pack, and, as their comrades passed out the various stores and articles
they were able to seize, those on the ice stacked them, as well as they
could, on a massive hummock.
Through the wind and the cold they worked, neither pausing for rest nor
refreshment. All around them the ice was heaving and grinding, and over
them the cold northerly gale was blowing and driving great clouds of
snow; but they worked on, knowing only too well that in every barrel of
food they rolled into security was contained a week of life for them.
The driving snow made it more and more difficult to see, until the air
was almost dark. With fearful force the wind howled across the icy
expanse, and those on the pack crouched for some shelter behind the
stores they had piled up by the hummock, waiting till the gale should
have exhausted its fury.
The faint sound of a cry came to them from the direction of the ship and
they peered out through the gloom. Then a cry of despair broke from
their lips--they forgot the force of the wind and the cold of the
driving snow as they sprang from behind their shelter. The ice had
parted again, and, down the long lane of open water which had been
formed, the hull of the ship loomed as it swung away into the darkness.
Anxiously the castaways watched for the coming together again of the
divided packs, in the hope that the _Polaris_ would again be caught and
held. Those who remained on board were equally anxious, for they knew
the vessel must be leaking terribly, and to be left much longer in the
open water meant that she would founder and they be drowned. A man ran
to the rudder and tried to bring her round to the ice which glimmered
through the snow-storm, but the rudder was damaged too much for steering
and the ship drifted on. Soon it was obscured from those on the pack,
and the truth of their position dawned on them. Whether the ship had
foundered or not they did not know, but this was clear: they were adrift
on an ice-pack which might at any moment split asunder and precipitate
them into the freezing water, or, if it held together, carry them till
they died of cold and starvation.
Either alternative was sufficiently gloomy to depress the spirits of
the bravest; as the nineteen cowered behind their stack of provisions
for shelter from the keen snow-filled wind, into the mind of each there
came a grim determination to fight while there was an ounce of food in
the casks or a vestige of ice to float them. In the morning, when the
storm had abated and the air was clear, they emerged from their shelter
and looked about for a sign of the vessel. Some of them clambered up on
to the top of the highest hummocks so as to command a wider field of
vision, but they saw no more than those who remained below. All around
them was ice, piled in heaps, or stretching out in flat expanses; but
always ice, as far as the eye could reach, and nowhere a vestige or a
sign of the _Polaris_.
They gathered together round the heap of stores and looked at one
another in silence, each one reading the other's thoughts and always
finding them the same as his own. The ship had probably gone to the
bottom, with all on board, as soon as she broke away from the ice. The
packs had closed again over the spot where she had disappeared, so that
there was no chance of any spars or timber floating to the surface and
confirming their suspicions. Everything was under the ice, everything
except the scanty supply of provisions that had been put overboard.
At length one man spoke. It was no use mincing matters, he told his
comrades. They would do well to realise the position they were in, and,
looking at it from the worst side, make the best of it and fight to the
end. The vessel had gone, and all they had to keep them from starvation
and death was the heap of stores and their own energy. There was no
timber to build a raft, so that they could float if the ice broke up;
there was no wood to waste on a fire. But as they had to keep afloat and
warm if they were going to escape, he considered that first of all they
should remove their stores to the thickest, heaviest ice they could
find, and then set to work to build snow huts for shelter. Winter was
coming on with its long spell of darkness, and there was no time to
waste. It was every one's business to help one another and to do the
best they could, working together and sharing whatever came, whether it
was short rations or plenty.
The sentiments appealed to all the men, and they formed themselves into
parties to carry out the scheme. Fortunately they had just passed one
winter in the Arctic regions and knew, therefore, what was in front of
them, and also how to carry out the building of snow huts and the other
necessary makeshifts. A massive hummock, which apparently was too strong
to be crushed, and solid enough to last through several summers without
melting, was selected as the site of the encampment. The snow which had
fallen during the gale was not quite hard enough for building huts at
the moment, so while some of the party were overhauling the stores and
arranging to move them to the hummock, the others were clearing away
the snow from the site of the camp and banking it up all round as a
break-wind.
By the time the stores were placed in the enclosure, canvas shelters
were erected for a temporary covering, pending the time when the snow
became hard enough to cut for building blocks. It is only when the snow
has become compressed by its own weight and frozen nearly solid by the
cold that it can be cut into slabs or blocks for a hut. When it has
become hard enough, the blocks are cut and the building commences. First
a circle is laid, with a small space vacant where the doorway is to be.
On either side of this opening the blocks are laid so as to form the
plan of a porch, one side of which, in the present instance, was
continued at right angles so as turn the entrance passage towards the
stack of provisions and thus shelter the doorway from the wind. As soon
as the ground plan of the hut was laid, the surface of the blocks was
moistened and other blocks laid upon them, and so on until the walls
rose some five feet, the moisture making the blocks freeze hard to one
another. The layers were now gradually lapped over the interior until a
dome roof was formed. Both inside and outside were then moistened and
smoothed, and the cold air, freezing the moisture, glazed the entire
structure with a covering of ice.
All the clothing, bedding, and weapons were taken inside. A lamp was
constructed out of an empty preserved meat tin; it was filled with fat,
and, with a piece of twisted tow for a wick, it lit up the interior of
the hut and afforded some warmth as well. Heavy canvas curtains were
suspended across the opening out of the hut at the inner wall, at the
bend in the passage, and at the outer opening. Such of the packages of
stores as were suitable were also brought into the hut, and upon them
the blankets and furs were laid so as to make the sleeping places as
comfortable as possible. The quarters were thus as good as the men could
make them, but one anxiety still remained. The lamp would have to be
kept going all the twenty-four hours, and especially during the long
Arctic night; but the supply of fat was limited.
A hunting party was organised to search the pack for seals or walrus or
any animal from which blubber could be obtained. Here again the
experience of the previous winter and its hunting exploits served them.
A small opening in the pack was discovered a mile or so from the camp,
and on the ice around the water three seals were resting, having
evidently been caught in the ice when it closed. With great care the
hunters crept over the ice towards the animals, whose sacrifice meant so
much to the castaways. Only two had rifles, the others carrying harpoons
they had made from the tent-poles, and which were anything but reliable
weapons. Steady aim was taken by the two men who had the rifles at the
two larger of the seals. Firing together, one seal fell dead; the one
which was not aimed at plunged into the water, and the other, badly
wounded, hobbled to the edge of the ice. In another moment he would
have been over and probably have sunk to the bottom, had not one of the
men flung away his harpoon, and, springing forward, managed to seize the
hind flippers of the wounded creature. His comrades rushed to his
assistance and dragged both him and the seal back from the opening on to
the ice, where the latter was quickly despatched.
They were harnessing themselves to their victims in order to drag them
over to the camp, when a loud snort from the opening caused them to
start round just in time to see the third seal disappearing under the
water. At once they understood the situation. The opening was the only
one for miles, and the seal was compelled to come to the surface there
to breathe, as he could not reach the top anywhere else for the ice. It
was at once decided to wait for him, but as, if he were shot while in
the water, he would inevitably sink to the bottom and be lost to them,
they determined to lay a trap for him. The seals already killed were
placed in natural attitudes near the water, and the men hastily retired
to sheltering hummocks, to wait the return. The men with the rifles were
both to fire upon the seal as soon as he emerged on to the ice, for he
was too valuable to be lost. They had not waited very long before he
reappeared and, raising his head high out of the water, looked around.
Seeing nothing but the two seals on the ice, he swam leisurely round and
round the opening before scrambling up on to the ice. As he reached it
and moved towards his two companions, the men, who had been carefully
aiming at him, fired and killed him.
With the three seals, the party returned to the camp in high spirits,
their arrival being the signal for general rejoicing, for not only would
the blubber of the seals keep the lamp supplied with oil, but their
skins were very welcome additions to the stock of warm coverings, and
the meat was an invaluable addition to the larder.
Really it was more, but of that they were not aware until two days
later, when one of the men was awakened by the short barking roar of a
bear. He quickly roused his companions and they made their way out of
the hut with what weapons they possessed.
The flesh of the seals had been suspended on a line between two poles
near the other provisions so as to protect it from any chance visit by
wolves or bears. As the first man peered out from the hut opening, he
saw, in the dim twilight, two bears standing underneath the line of
meat, sniffing up at it and growling. They had, it was afterwards
learned, picked up the trail where the dead seals had been dragged from
the opening in the ice, and had followed it to the camp.
[Illustration: AN ADDITION TO THE EXPLORERS' SUPPLY OF PROVISIONS.]
The man whispered back to his companions what he saw, and another man,
armed with a rifle, crept to his side. Aiming together behind the
shoulder of the larger of the bears, they fired simultaneously and
brought their quarry down. Immediately the other bear turned towards the
opening and, with snarling teeth, advanced. A third rifle was fired
point-blank at its head, but the bullet failed to penetrate the massive
skull, though it made the beast change its direction. As it turned away
the men realised what its escape would mean to them. There was a rush
after it, the men loading and firing as quickly as they could load, so
as to secure it before it disappeared in the dim grey twilight. It fell
wounded, and was despatched by means of the impromptu spears.
This adventure not only made a notable break in the monotony of the life
on the pack, but gave the men a subject for conversation during the long
weary period of darkness, as well as increasing their store of fat,
fresh meat, and warm covering. No further animals were seen or heard,
although every one was constantly on the alert, and the opening where
the seals were killed was visited daily until it froze over. Then the
last vestige of twilight vanished and darkness settled down upon the
ice.
For eighty-three days the sun was absent, and during that time the cold
was intense. The lamp was the only means of artificial heat they
possessed, and even of that they had to be careful, for the supply of
fat was not inexhaustible, and no one knew when it could be replenished.
In the coldest weather the men huddled together under their blankets and
furs, anxious and weary. They had no means of finding out in what
direction they were moving, for the constant creaking of the floe led
them to believe that they were drifting somewhere. Whether it was to the
North or to the South they could not tell, and yet upon the direction in
which they were moving their salvation depended.
Never, perhaps, was the return of the sun more welcomed than by the
desolate castaways on the floe. But its appearance and the commencement
of spring was not entirely an unmixed blessing. The rising temperature
naturally caused the ice to break up, and as the floe upon which they
were marooned gradually decreased in size, fresh anxiety was caused to
them by the possible danger of their haven being broken up. As the days
passed, they saw their food supply growing smaller and smaller, until
starvation stared them in the face, and hope was almost dead. April
came, and with it all the privation and suffering consequent upon
insufficient food and wearying, helpless, and almost hopeless,
inactivity. The last day of the month arrived and found them with the
last morsel of food consumed. A man clambered to the summit of the
hummock in the hopes of seeing a seal somewhere on the ice. His comrades
thought that he had lost his senses when he shouted wildly and,
clambering down, ran towards them, dancing and shouting.
Over the top of the hummock he had caught sight of a ship, and the
excitement caused by his news was soon eclipsed as the castaways saw the
signals they made answered from the vessel. Boats put off for them and
took them on board the ship, which was the _Tigress_, a sealer from
Labrador.
They found that in the 196 days they had spent on the floe they had
drifted over 1500 miles from the latitude in which the _Polaris_ was
beset on October 12. For the time they believed they were the only
survivors of the expedition, but in this they were wrong. The remainder
of the party also escaped, though without undergoing quite the same
hardships as themselves.
When the _Polaris_ broke away from the ice, she did not sink, but
drifted rapidly before the gale through the open channel. Captain
Budington, who had assumed command when Captain Hall died, and the
twelve men who remained on board, managed to keep the disabled vessel
afloat, but they could do no more until she again became involved in the
ice. By that time all hopes of returning to the place where the other
men were on the ice was abandoned, and, as the water was fairly open,
the efforts of the crew were mainly directed to warping the ship towards
the coast. By good fortune she managed to escape from the crushing
packs, and, with tireless effort and great care, she was at length
brought within sight of land. Then she was caught in the ice along the
shore and so severely nipped that her ruin was complete. She, however,
did not sink, and her crew were able to reach the land.
Selecting a site for an encampment, they removed thither enough timber
from the broken-up vessel to construct a house, to which they also
removed enough stores to last them. When these necessaries were secured,
they brought more timber ashore, and, during the long winter night, they
employed themselves in constructing a couple of boats. It was a
laborious task, and but slow progress was made until daylight returned.
Then they were able to carry on the work faster; but it was the middle
of May before they had them finished and seaworthy.
As soon as the ice began to break up, they launched the boats, which
were fully provisioned from the wreck, and on June 3 they sailed away to
the South. Three weeks later they sighted a whaler, the _Ravenscraig_,
who took them aboard, and within a few months of their comrades, whom
they thought had all perished, landing in America from the _Tigress_,
the boat party also landed, having saved, in addition to themselves, all
the records of the surveys and observations made by the expedition.
These were of great geographical value, making known much of the
neighbourhood of the straits between Greenland and Grant's Land. The
expedition, although attaining to a high latitude, did not succeed in
reaching the Pole, but their adventures made a fascinating chapter in
the history of Polar research.