Entrance into Sir James Lancaster's Sound of
Baffin.--Uninterrupted Passage to the Westward.--Discovery and
Examination of Prince Regent's Inlet.--Progress to the Southward
stopped by Ice.--Return to the Northward.--Pass Barrow's Strait,
and enter the Polar Sea.
We were now about to enter and to explore that great sound or
inlet which has obtained a degree of celebrity beyond what it
might otherwise have been considered to possess, from the very
opposite opinions which have been held with regard to it. To us it
was peculiarly interesting, as being the point to which our
instructions more particularly directed our attention; and I may
add, what I believe we all felt, it was that point of the voyage
which was to determine the success or failure of the expedition,
according as one or other of the opposite opinions alluded to
should be corroborated. It will readily be conceived, then, how
great our anxiety was for a change of the westerly wind and swell,
which, on the 1st of August, set down Sir James Lancaster's Sound,
and prevented our making much progress. Several whales were seen
in the course of the day, and Mr. Allison remarked that this was
the only part of Baffin's Bay in which he had ever seen young
whales; for it is a matter of surprise to the whalers in general,
that they seldom or never meet with young ones on this fishery, as
they are accustomed to do in the seas of Spitzbergen.
The Griper continued to detain us so much, that I determined on
making the best of our way to the westward, and ordered the Hecla
to be hove to in the evening, and sent Lieutenant Liddon an
instruction, with some signals, which might facilitate our meeting
in case of fog; and I appointed as a place of rendezvous the
meridian of 85° west, and as near the middle of the sound as
circumstances would permit. As soon, therefore, as the boat
returned from the Griper, we carried a press of sail, and in the
course of the evening saw the northern shore of the sound looming
through the clouds which hung over it.
The weather being clear in the evening of the 2d, we had the first
distinct view of both sides of the sound; and the difference in
the character of the two shores was very apparent; that on the
south consisting of high and peaked mountains, completely
snow-clad, except on the lower parts, while the northern coast has
generally a smoother outline, and had, comparatively with the
other, little snow upon it; the difference in this last respect
appearing to depend principally on the difference in their
absolute height. The sea was open before us, free from ice or
land; and the Hecla pitched so much from the westerly swell in the
course of the day, as to throw the water once or twice into the
stern windows; a circumstance which, together with other
appearances, we were willing to attribute to an open sea in the
desired direction. More than forty black whales were seen during
the day.
We made little way on the 3d, but being favoured at length by the
easterly breeze which was bringing up the Griper, and for which we
had long been looking with much impatience, a crowd of sail was
set to carry us with all rapidity to the westward. It is more easy
to imagine than to describe the almost breathless anxiety which
was now visible in every countenance, while, as the breeze
continued to a fresh gale, we ran quickly up the sound. The
mastheads were crowded by the officers and men during the whole
afternoon; and an unconcerned observer, if any could have been
unconcerned on such an occasion, would have been amused by the
eagerness with which the various reports from the crow's-nest were
received; all, however, hitherto favourable to our most sanguine
hopes.
Our course was nearly due west, and the wind still continuing to
freshen, took us in a few hours nearly out of sight of the Griper.
The only ice which we met with consisted of a few large bergs very
much washed by the sea; and the weather being remarkably clear, so
as to enable us to run with perfect safety, we were by midnight,
in a great measure, relieved from our anxiety respecting the
supposed continuity of land at the bottom of this magnificent
inlet, having reached the longitude of 83° 12', where the two
shores are still above thirteen leagues apart, without the
slightest appearance of any land to the westward of us for four or
five points of the compass.
Having made the ship snug, so as to be in readiness to round to
should the land be seen ahead, and the Griper having come up
within a few miles of us, we again bore up at one A.M., the 4th.
At half past three, Lieutenant Beechey, who had relieved me on
deck, discovered from the crow's-nest a reef of rocks, in-shore of
us to the northward, on which the sea was breaking. The cliffs on
this part of the coast present a singular appearance, being
stratified horizontally, and having a number of regular projecting
masses of rock, broad at the bottom, and coming to a point at the
top, resembling so many buttresses, raised by art at equal
intervals.
After lying-to for an hour, we again bore up to the westward, and
soon after discovered a cape, afterward named by Captain Sabine,
CAPE FELLFOOT, which appeared to form the termination of this
coast; and as the haze, which still prevailed to the south,
prevented our seeing any land in that quarter, and the sea was
literally as free from ice as any part of the Atlantic, we began
to flatter ourselves that we had fairly entered the Polar Sea, and
some of the most sanguine among us had even calculated the bearing
and distance of Icy Cape, as a matter of no very difficult or
improbable accomplishment. This pleasing prospect was rendered the
more flattering by the sea having, as we thought, regained the
usual oceanic colour, and by a long swell which was rolling in
from the southward and eastward. At six P.M., however, land was
reported to be seen ahead. The vexation and anxiety produced on
every countenance by such a report were but too visible, until, on
a nearer approach, it was found to be only an island, of no very
large extent, and that, on each side of it, the horizon still
appeared clear for several points of the compass. At eight P.M. we
came to some ice of no great breadth or thickness, extending
several miles in a direction nearly parallel to our course; and as
we could see clear water over it to the southward, I was for some
time in the hope that it would prove a detached stream, from which
no obstruction to our progress westerly was to be apprehended. At
twenty minutes past ten, however, the weather having become hazy
and the wind light, we perceived that the ice, along which we had
been sailing for the last two hours, was joined, at the distance
of half a mile to the westward of us, to a compact and impenetrable
body of floes, which lay across the whole breadth of the strait,
formed by the island and the western point of Maxwell Bay. We
hauled our wind to the northward, just in time to avoid being
embayed in the ice, on the outer edge of which a considerable surf,
the effect of the late gale, was then rolling.
While the calm and thick weather lasted, a number of the officers
and men amused themselves in the boats, in endeavouring to kill
some of the white whales which were swimming about the ships in
great numbers; but the animals were so wary, that they would
scarcely suffer the boats to approach them within thirty or forty
yards without diving. Mr. Fisher described them to be generally
from eighteen to twenty feet in length; and he stated that he had
several times heard them emit a shrill, ringing sound, not unlike
that of musical glasses when badly played; This sound, he farther
observed, was most distinctly heard when they happened to swim
directly beneath the boat, even when they were several feet under
water, and ceased altogether on their coming to the surface. We
saw also, for the first time, one or two shoals of narwhals,
called by the sailors sea-unicorns.
A steady breeze springing up from the W.N.W. in the afternoon, the
ships stood to the northward till we had distinctly made out that
no passage to the westward could at present be found between the
ice and the land. The weather having become clear about this time,
we perceived that there was a large open space to the southward,
where no land was visible; and for this opening, over which there
was a dark water-sky, our course was now directed.
Since the time when we first entered Sir James Lancaster's Sound,
the sluggishness of the compasses, as well as the amount of their
irregularity produced by the attraction of the ship's iron, had
been found very rapidly, though uniformly, to increase as we
proceeded to the westward; so much, indeed, that, for the last two
days, we had been under the necessity of giving up altogether the
usual observations for determining the variation of the needle on
board the ships. This irregularity became more and more obvious as
we now advanced to the southward, which rendered it not improbable
that we were making a very near approach to the magnetic pole. For
the purposes of navigation, therefore, the compasses were from
this time no longer consulted; and in a few days afterward, the
binnacles were removed as useless lumber from the deck to the
carpenter's storeroom, where they remained during the rest of the
season.
A dark sky to the southwest had given us hopes of finding a
westerly passage to the south of the ice along which we were now
sailing; more especially as the inlet began to widen considerably
as we advanced in that direction: but at three A.M. on the morning
of the 8th, we perceived that the ice ran close in with a point of
land bearing S.b.E. from us, which appeared to form the southern
extremity of the eastern shore.
With the increasing width of the inlet we had flattered ourselves
with increasing hopes; but we soon experienced the mortification
of disappointment. The prospect from the crow's-nest began to
assume a very unpromising appearance, the whole of the western
horizon, from north round to S.b.E., being completely covered with
ice, consisting of heavy and extensive floes, beyond which no
indication of water was visible; instead of which there was a
bright and dazzling iceblink extending from shore to shore. The
western coast of the inlet, however, trended much more to the
westward than before, and no land was visible to the southwest,
though the horizon was so clear in that quarter, that, if any had
existed of moderate height, it might have been easily seen at this
time at the distance of ten or twelve leagues. From these
circumstances, the impression received at the time was, that the
land, both on the eastern and western side of this inlet, would be
one day found to consist of islands.
A breeze sprung up from the northward on the morning of the 12th,
but the weather was so foggy for some hours that we did not know
in what direction it was blowing. As soon as the fog cleared away,
so as to enable us to see a mile or two around us, we found that
the floe to which we had anchored was drifting fast down upon
another body of ice to leeward, threatening to enclose the ships
between them. We therefore cast off and made sail, in order to
beat to the northward, which we found great difficulty in doing,
owing to the quantity of loose ice with which this part of the
inlet was now covered. A remarkably thick fog obscured the eastern
land from our view this evening at the distance of five or six
miles, while the western coast was distinctly visible at four
times that distance.
The weather was beautifully calm and clear on the 13th, when,
being near an opening in the eastern shore, I took the opportunity
of examining it in a boat. It proved to be a bay, a mile wide at
its entrance, and three miles deep in an E.b.S. direction, having
a small but snug cove on the north side, formed by an island,
between which and the main land is a bar of rocks, which
completely shelters the cove from sea or drift ice. We found the
water so deep, that in rowing close along the shore we could
seldom get bottom with seven fathoms of line. The cliffs on the
south side of this bay, to which I gave the name of PORT BOWEN,
resemble, in many places, ruined towers and battlements; and
fragments of the rocks were constantly falling from above. At the
head of the bay is an extensive piece of low flat ground,
intersected by numerous rivulets, which, uniting at a short
distance from the beach, formed a deep and rapid stream, near the
mouth of which we landed. This spot was, I think, the most barren
I ever saw, the ground being almost entirely covered with small
pieces of slaty limestone, among which no vegetation appeared for
more than a mile, to which distance Mr. Ross and myself walked
inland, following the banks of the stream. Among the fragments we
picked up one piece of limestone, on which was the impression of a
fossil-shell. We saw here a great number of young black
guillemots, and a flock of ducks, which we supposed to be of the
eider species.
The narwhals were here very numerous; these animals appear fond of
remaining with their backs exposed above the surface of the water,
in the same manner as the whale, but for a much longer time, and
we frequently also observed their horns erect, and quite
stationary for several minutes together.
The whole of the 14th was occupied in an unsuccessful attempt to
find an opening in the ice to the westward, which remained
perfectly close and compact, with a bright iceblink over it.
The ice continued in the same unfavourable state on the 15th; and
being desirous of turning to some account this vexatious but
unavoidable detention, I left the ship, accompanied by Captain
Sabine and Mr. Hooper, in order to make some observations on
shore, and directed Lieutenant Liddon to send a boat from the
Griper for the same purpose. We landed in one of the numerous
valleys or ravines which occur on this part of the coast, and at a
few miles' distance very much resemble bays, being bounded by high
hills that have the appearance of bluff headlands. We ascended
with some difficulty the hill on the south side of the ravine,
which is very steep, and covered with innumerable detached blocks
of limestone, some of which are constantly rolling down from
above, and afford a very insecure footing. From the top of this
hill, which is about six or seven feet above the level of the sea,
and commands an extensive view to the westward, the prospect was
by no means favourable to the immediate accomplishment of our
object. No water could be seen over the ice to the northwest, and
a bright and dazzling blink covered the whole space comprised
between the islands and the north shore. It was a satisfaction,
however, to find that no _land_ appeared which was likely to
impede our progress; and we had been too much accustomed to the
obstruction occasioned by ice, and too well aware of the
suddenness with which that obstruction is often removed, to be at
all discouraged by present appearances.
On the top of this hill we deposited a bottle containing a short
notice of our visit, and raised over it a small mound of stones;
of these we found no want, for the surface was covered with small
pieces of schistose limestone, and nothing like soil or vegetation
could be seen.
On the 17th we had a fresh breeze from the S.S.W., with so thick a
fog that, in spite of the most unremitting attention to the sails
and the steerage, the ships were constantly receiving heavy shocks
from the loose masses of ice with which the sea was covered, and
which, in the present state of the weather, could not be
distinguished at a sufficient distance to avoid them. On the
weather clearing up in the afternoon, we saw for the first time a
remarkable bluff headland, which forms the northeastern point of
the entrance into Prince Regent's Inlet, and to which I gave the
name of CAPE YORK. A little to the eastward of Cape Fellfoot, we
observed six stripes of snow near the top of the cliff, being very
conspicuous at a great distance, when viewed from the southward.
These stripes, which are formed by the drift of snow between the
buttress-like projections before described, and which remained
equally conspicuous on our return the following year, have
probably at all times much the same appearance, at least about
this season of the year, and may, on this account, perhaps, be
deemed worthy of notice as a landmark.
There being still no prospect of getting a single mile to the
westward, in the neighbourhood of Prince Leopold's Islands, and a
breeze having freshened up from the eastward in the afternoon, I
determined to stand over once more towards the northern shore, in
order to try what could there be done towards effecting our
passage; and at nine P.M., after beating for several hours among
floes and streams of ice, we got into clear water near that coast,
where we found some swell from the eastward. There was just light
enough at midnight to enable us to read and write in the cabin.
The wind and sea increased on the 19th, with a heavy fall of snow,
which, together with the uselessness of the compasses, and the
narrow space in which we were working between the ice and the
land, combined to make our situation for several hours a very
unpleasant one.
On the 21st we had nothing to impede our progress but the want of
wind, the great opening through, which we had hitherto proceeded
from Baffin's Bay being now so perfectly clear of ice, that it was
impossible to believe it to be the same part of the sea, which,
but a day or two before, had been completely covered with floes to
the utmost extent of our view. In the forenoon we picked up a
small piece of wood, which appeared to have been the end of a
boat's yard, and which caused sundry amusing speculations among
our gentlemen; some of whom had just come to the very natural
conclusion that a ship had been here before us, and that,
therefore, we were not entitled to the honour of the first
discovery of that part of the sea on which we were now sailing;
when a stop was suddenly put to this and other ingenious
inductions by the information of one of the seamen, that he had
dropped it out of his boat a fortnight before. I could not get him
to recollect exactly the day on which it had been dropped, but
what he stated was sufficient to convince me that we were not at
that time more than ten or twelve leagues from our present
situation; perhaps not half so much; and that, therefore, here was
no current setting constantly in any one direction.
We perceived, as we proceeded, that the land along which we were
sailing, and which, with the exception of some small inlets, had
appeared to be hitherto continuous from Baffin's Bay, began now to
trend much to the northward, beyond Beechey Island, leaving a
large open space between that coast and the distant land to the
westward, which now appeared like an island, of which the extremes
to the north and south were distinctly visible. The latter was a
remarkable headland, having at its extremity two small table-hills,
somewhat resembling boats turned bottom upward, and was named
CAPE HOTHAM. At sunset we had a clear and extensive view to the
northward, between Cape Hotham and the eastern land. On the
latter, several headlands were discovered and named; between the
northernmost of these, called CAPE BOWDEN, and the island to the
westward, there was a channel of more than eight leagues in width,
in which neither land nor ice could be seen from the masthead. To
this noble channel I gave the name of WELLINGTON. The arrival off
this grand opening was an event for which we had long been looking
with much anxiety and impatience; for the continuity of land to
the northward had always been a source of uneasiness to us,
principally from the possibility that it might take a turn to the
southward and unite with the coast of America. The appearance of
this broad opening, free from ice, and of the land on each side of
it, more especially that on the west, leaving scarcely a doubt on
our minds of the latter being an island, relieved us from all
anxiety on that score; and every one felt that we were now finally
disentangled from the land which forms the western side of
Baffin's Bay; and that, in fact, we had actually entered the Polar
Sea.
Though two thirds of the month of August had now elapsed, I had
every reason to be satisfied with the progress which we had
hitherto made. I calculated upon the sea being navigable for six
weeks to come, and probably more, if the state of the ice would
permit us to edge away to the southward in our progress westerly:
our prospects, indeed, were truly exhilarating; the ships had
suffered no injury; we had plenty of provisions; crews in high
health and spirits; a sea, if not open, at least navigable; and a
zealous and unanimous determination, in both officers and men, to
accomplish, by all possible means, the grand object on which we
had the happiness to be employed.