JOURNEY BY SLEDGE TO THE FLIGELY FJORD. DISCOVERY OF
COAL LAYERS ON KUHN ISLAND. 14TH TO 21ST
SEPT., 1869.[48]
Our outfittings.--Departure on 14th September.--First night
under tents.--Passage of Clavering Straits in sledges.--Cape
Hamburg.--A Polar bear shot.--The Fligely Fjord.--Ascent of a
mountain-peak 4050 feet high.--The prospect therefrom.--The
Fligely Fjord connected with Ardencaple Bay.--Scientific
labours of Lieutenant Payer.--Return to the tent.--An Arctic
night.--Back to the ship.--Discovery of coal strata on Kuhn
Island by Lieutenant Payer.--Arrival at the ship on 21st
September.
The temperature was now settled at one degree below freezing point,
and although in the neighbourhood of Pendulum Island the young ice
was destroyed by the wind as soon as formed, the ground on land was
frozen hard, and the watery pools on the firm land-ice were already
covered with a coating of ice, so thick as to be able to bear the
weight of sledges and men. Now was the fittest time for our proposed
sledge-journey to the west; and on the same day, the 13th, all
necessary preparations were made. It was the first of any importance
that we had undertaken, and though, from works on the Arctic regions,
we understood something of the ways and means of carrying it out,
none of us had any practical experience, so that our arrangements
eventually proved to be somewhat deficient. As, on our departure from
home, the prevailing idea was that the greatest and most substantial
discoveries must be made with the ship, our instructions spoke only of
probable glacier excursions to the interior of the country, and not of
extensive sledge journeys along the coast and the banks of the Fjord.
At the outfitting in Bremen there was, therefore, no provision made for
these, and our sledge apparatus (tents, coverings, and so on) was not
quite what it ought to have been.
[Illustration: TENT FOR SLEDGE-JOURNEYING.]
During the summer we had learnt from experience that the round tent
with a pole in the centre, which we had brought from Bremen, was not
practically useful; it was, therefore, changed into a four-cornered
one, and provided with a roof. At each corner a pole was placed,
perpendicularly, and fastened by ropes, held and propped up with
stones. In stretching the roof also ropes had to be made fast to the
ground. This tent answered our purpose on the whole, and proved
serviceable. The supports were, however, weak and unsatisfactory, and
constantly requiring alteration and strengthening to enable it to
bear up against the storms. This took place in the beginning of the
winter. Our further apparatus consisted of necessary woollen coverings
(fur we had not yet taken to), provisions for eight days, and of
instruments--theodolite, barometer, and thermometer.
We began our journey on the afternoon of the 14th of September, in
fine quiet weather, and under a cloudless sky. The night previous,
in a temperature of 23° Fahr., a thin ice-crust had formed from our
harbour over the whole of Clavering Straits to the old land-ice, the
extent of which was two nautical miles from the south-west cape of the
island, and therefore four nautical miles from our harbour, through
which we had to force our way with much trouble, with the boats laden
with the sledges and baggage on to the old ice. After three hours’ work
we reached it, and now the sledge journey may be said to have begun.
The sledges, which carried about six cwt., were drawn by six men, the
Captain, First Lieutenant Payer, Tramnitz, Kranschner, Klentzer, and
Ellinger, travelling with comparative ease over the almost snowless
ice; but a short distance past the south-west cape of the island, the
road became rough and uneven from the half-melted and again frozen
snow-drifts, so that it required all our strength to get along.
In order not to tire the men too much on the first day, we halted
about eight p.m. on a tongue of land running from the Kronenberg of
Sabine Island, and raised our tent. Not being yet practised in such
travelling, and in all the management of our hands, so necessary in
raising tents and cooking food, we were an hour and a half before we
could roll ourselves in our blankets and go to rest. The narrow and
cramped position in which we lay in the small tent (nine feet long and
six feet broad) on the hard frozen ground, prevented us from enjoying
a good night’s rest, although we were quite warm enough; and we had
plenty of time in which to consider how far superior a soft bed was.
Although bears were numerous round about us, and we met some almost
every day, we had not as yet set any watch during the night, and
had only taken a loaded gun and revolver into the tent with us as a
precaution. The time for rest on a sledge-journey, if one wishes to
press forward, is necessarily of the shortest, and setting watch would,
from the unavoidable loss of rest, be very prejudicial, or cause us to
lose many hours of very precious time. One must also consider the wary
nature of bears, and that they would always have to destroy the tent
before getting at us. But, indeed, in all our sledge-journeys during
sleeping time we were spared the visits of such combative companions.
Either the bears preferred making no further acquaintance with us, or
they came at a time when we could best greet them with a shot.
The next morning, the 15th, we started at a quarter to six, after a
good breakfast, taking a north-westerly direction obliquely across
Clavering Straits, in order to reach the mainland; the temperature
was 20.5° Fahr., the weather fine, the wind quiet, and we brought the
sledge along over the hard snow with comparative ease. We reached
Cape Berlin after a six hours’ journey. After a mid-day rest we
pulled on through snow deserts of ever-increasing depth towards the
mainland. This surrounded a broad bay stretching to the south, and was
intersected by a Fjord of, as yet, undecided extent to the west of our
road. The exploration of this Fjord was our aim.
We thought from the imposing walls of gneiss at its point of debouche
(Cape Hamburg) that we should be able to reach it in a few hours, far
under-rating the actual distance, which is often the case in Arctic
regions. In the bright clear air, the land looked so near that we
fancied we could see every crack in the rocks, and even every stone,
distinctly enough to grasp it with the hand; but the further we walked,
the further the land seemed to recede, and as the journey in the not
quite frozen snow was trying enough without this, there was a great
amount of ill-humour over the constant disappointment. But everything
has an end, and at last it was real land, and a real mountain-chain
which lay before us. In Arctic regions one is so subject to illusions,
that you cannot swear to having land before you, until your feet are
actually upon it. This happened with us in the evening at dusk, and we
pitched our tent on a smooth spot. This second night’s rest was better
than the first, and after such a trying day’s work we slept the sleep
of the just.
On the 16th of September, as we were at breakfast, a white fox rushed
almost into the midst of us, wishing to share it, but he paid for his
boldness with his life.
We also saw a bear in the distance; he did not venture near, however,
but shuffled, first, comfortably along to our encampment, which we had
long since left. A saucepan cover, which we afterwards missed, served
him as a ball; and as Bruin found nothing to eat, he followed on our
track, and, as he drew nearer, had to pay for his murderous intentions
by a well-aimed shot from Mr. Tramnitz. We took one of his hams with
us as an addition to our stock of provisions; the beautiful skin, and
the remainder of the flesh we left for the ravens and the foxes. At
the mouth of the Fjord, where Cape Hamburg bends round to the west, we
halted for our mid-day meal, as well as for the purpose of making some
necessary measurements.
In the meantime we had discovered, to our great surprise, that the
Fligely Fjord was covered with an uninterrupted coating of ice. Sorry
we were that we had brought no skates, by which our journey would
have been much hastened. We pushed ourselves along the ice with the
alpenstocks; the sledge followed easily, almost by the influence of the
wind. The ice in the Fjord[49], evidently only formed in September, was
at first from three to four inches thick, then three-quarters of an
inch, so that our steps were accompanied by an uninterrupted cracking.
Large cracks formed, and we kept near the land, so that in case of
falling in we might find a bottom.
With one thrust of the iron point of the alpenstock, we broke the icy
covering, and drank eagerly of the up-springing water. This, being
immediately under the ice, was but little salt, and quite drinkable.
The shore of the Fjord was surrounded by beautiful mountain-chains--to
the north gneiss--and granite cliffs, at the foot of which were slopes
covered with soft grassy vegetation; to the south rose ice-crowned
rocks, the highest of which (we will call it Domberg) was certainly
more than 3900 feet high. Reindeer came from all sides of the strand
in a state of wonder; but this time we withstood the desire to hunt,
in order to lose no time. Only once was the journey interrupted by a
slight topographical incident. A bear which came near us, we frightened
away by shouting, after which, Klentzer fell through the ice; he was
pulled out, and had to cross a long broad breach. The ice had now
become so thin that it began to break dangerously; we might, therefore,
think ourselves fortunate, when in the darkness, after a seven hours’
march of eighteen (English) miles, and after crossing a small field
of snow, we arrived safely at the west side of the Fjord, which bent
sharply to the north. It suddenly struck us that the sound in which
we had landed was connected with the Ardencaple Inlet; we therefore
altered our original plan of ascending the Domberg, and followed the
Fjord northwards in order to climb one of those overlooking summits
from which we might expect to solve this question. On the morning of
the 17th of September, therefore (28° Fahr.), the sledge was left in
the care of Tramnitz (who this day killed a reindeer), Kranschner, and
Klentzer, whilst Captain Koldewey, Ellinger, and Payer hurried along
for two hours in a northerly direction over the smooth ice, carefully
jumping over the fragments broken by the tide, till at length they
stood on the land at the foot of the mountain they wished to climb.
Everywhere we were met by chilly glacier-streams, buried deep in a
sedimentary crystalline formation. Our way led off over a precipitous
declivity. Above a lovely valley containing a lake, we went, step by
step, over large boulders; then over a small ice-field to the summit,
which had taken us six hours and a half to reach. Nowhere was the
boundary of vegetable life so marked as in our own Alps, which may
arise from the fact that, owing to the length of the Arctic day,
elevation above the sea less sensibly affects vegetation than with us.
The view from the top was beyond description beautiful. It stretched
over Hochstetter’s Foreland and Shannon, as far as Pendulum Island. We
were at once convinced of the impregnable solidity of the pack-ice, as
well as that the Fligely Fjord (as we had conjectured) did really open
into Ardencaple Bay. Only to the west the horizon was entirely closed
by massive peaks about twenty miles off.
Several readings of the quicksilver barometer gave the height of our
mountain as a little over 4050 feet. After three hours’ measuring,
Payer had finished with the panorama, by which time the temperature of
31.8° Fahr. was most unpleasant.
In the meantime Captain Koldewey had gone back in a westerly direction
on an excursion to the shoulders of a mountain, upon which he thus
remarks in his day-book:--The mountain was nearly the highest in the
neighbourhood, and as the weather was particularly fine and clear, we
had a fine wide prospect. I went some nautical miles further westward
along the ridge, in order to gain a better glimpse of the interior.
Towards the south-west, the mountain fell precipitously in a deep
ravine; beyond this the land was undulatory, and the outer horizon
seemed bounded by a mountain chain running north and south. Towards
the north was a long valley stretching east and west, and also to the
south lay a deep basin with rugged sides. This basin was particularly
free from snow, only the highest peaks being partly covered. Large
glaciers were nowhere to be seen. Towards the east only, over Shannon,
and Hochstetter’s Foreland, were some connected tracts of ice, but no
trace of open water. Besides this, the ice-fields to the north-east of
Shannon were not yet in motion, and the faint hope of advancing further
north with the ship in the spring (which until now Captain Koldewey
had nourished), disappeared at this sight. Wintering on Sabine Island
had now become a certainty, and we retraced our way over ice and naked
rocks. In vain did we try, in the now increasing darkness, to find a
weapon which we had left behind, and just as fruitless was the search
for a draught in the chilly glacier streams with which to quench our
burning thirst. As we could no longer feel our way over the smooth
ice along the strand, we ran quickly on. It was a glorious night; a
perfect calm and a cloudless sky. A whitish northern light, which we
saw to the south of us, together with the lights of the stars, shed a
feeble glimmer over the icy landscape round us, and the ice-crowned
tops of the surrounding mountains were distinctly to be seen. Nowhere
does Nature show herself with greater power and expression than in the
Arctic regions; and on such a September night as this it was truly
majestic.
About midnight we reached the tent. The men were already wrapped in
their blankets, and the fire made of drift-wood and reindeer fat was
nearly out. It was again brought to a flame, and soon we had a basin of
strong reindeer soup, and some delicious steaks before us, which did
us good. With a pipe we enjoyed the beauty of the night a little time
longer, then wrapped ourselves in our blankets for a good sleep.
On the 18th of September (20° Fahr.) a grey foggy curtain hung over
Fligely Fjord. Tramnitz and Ellinger went to look for the missing
weapon; others collected drift-wood on the shore, whilst Payer
completed the materials for the chart, and the geological collection.
At four p.m. we started on our return to the ship, as unfortunately our
provisions forbade a longer stay. Further investigation of so important
a discovery as Ardencaple Inlet, and that of the Fjord opening into it,
could have been easily carried on under any other circumstances.
The already-mentioned broad fissure in the road over the Fjord, brought
us this time into an unpleasant position, for Klentzer broke through
with the sledge. He succeeded in working himself up on to a stronger
piece of ice; but as the water soaked through the baggage, the sledge
sunk deeper and deeper. As it was impossible to pull it out on to the
thin ice without unloading, we cut the ropes and brought the goods,
one by one, on to the ice, and lastly the sledge also. Both of the
barometers fell victims to this mishap, and from the theodolite-case
the water spurted as if it had been touched by Moses’ wand.
We were now forced to encamp at once on the shore, in order to dry our
blankets, &c., by a fire of Andromeda.[50] That this was not quite a
success may be believed, at a temperature of 18° Fahr.
The saturated and frozen tent we could with difficulty raise at all;
the folds were like lead. We suffered not a little from the cold that
night; the weather at the same time becoming damp and inclement.
The sky was cloudy, and in the afternoon there was a fall of snow,
though without the customary accompaniment of wind. Meteorological
observations on board indicated at the same time a storm from the
north, which broke over Sabine Island and its neighbourhood on the
afternoon of the 18th and the night of the 19th. The interior of the
Fjord is evidently not so exposed to the devastation of the northern
storms, which sweep the outer coast for nine months in the year, as it
is to the deep loose snow which in the spring effectually prevents any
advance into it. Nearly everywhere on the outer coast the snow was hard
and firm.
On the morning of the 19th a herd of musk-oxen approached to within
about sixty paces of us, while some reindeer came very near us. We
left them unharmed however, as we still had a store of that killed
two days before. As we were starting on our way (14° Fahr.), Payer
noticed a stone of strikingly light colour, which, on the south side
of Kuhn Island, formed solid overhanging crystals, to at least 2000
feet high. He therefore left the sledge, and to his great astonishment
stumbled upon an enormous layer of coal, alternating with sandstone;
this was most likely Lias coal, from three-quarters to eighteen inches
thick. The fact that Payer was not armed, and that therefore--as he
was heavily laden with coal and other minerals--he must be careful in
this neighbourhood so overrun with bears, and had better return to the
sledge, prevented any further investigation for the moment, of this
interesting geological discovery.
In the afternoon we reached Cape Hamburg (eight miles and a half). The
following morning (20th September, 5° Fahr.) Payer, Tramnitz, and
Ellinger, took the three hours’ walk back to the coal strata, to find,
if possible, any petrifactions and imbedded substances. Their trouble
was richly rewarded.
The discovery of a coal layer is, for the future investigation of
Greenland, of the greatest importance, as, of all the necessaries of
life, want of fuel is that which would most prevent any long stay
inland.
Another interesting discovery was the trace of former glaciers. There
were smooth rocks, 170 feet above the sea, and that in a valley
perfectly free from ice,--central and lateral moraines, with the sharp,
characteristic, longitudinal ridge,--and the mounds of débris and
peculiar stone-dust. Unfortunately, in sledge journeys, hunger is a
permanent discomfort; and although we ate plentifully and often of the
reindeer, we were never thoroughly satisfied, in consequence of the
difficulty of respiration.
On the 21st of September we pulled, in 18° Fahr. and through violently
drifting snow, over the snowy desert to Cape Berlin. After a short
mid-day rest, and three more hours of travelling, we neared the
northern entrance of Falsche Bay, where we passed the night.
On the following day (21st September) we went on foot over the young
ice, to our winter quarters on board ship, having travelled 133½ miles
in all.