FORMATION OF ICE--DANGERS OF DISRUPTING ICE--ANECDOTE--DRIFTING ICE--
DRIFT OF THE "FOX"--"NIPPING" ANECDOTE--LOSS OF THE "BREADALBANE."
It is well known that when fresh water becomes so cold that its
temperature is 32 degrees of Fahrenheit's scale, it loses its liquid
form and becomes ice. A somewhat lower temperature than this is
necessary to freeze salt water; the reason being, that greater force is
required to expel the salt which the sea holds in solution,--which salt
is always more or less expelled in the process of freezing.
Ice commences to form in the shape of needles, which shoot out at angles
from each other. In smooth water, under the influence of intense cold,
the process is rapid, and a thin cake soon covers the water, and
increases in thickness hour by hour. But when the sea is agitated the
process is retarded, and the fine needles are broken up into what arctic
navigators call _sludge_. This, however, soon begins to cake, and is
broken by the swell into small cakes; which, as they thicken, again
unite, and are again broken up into larger masses. These masses, by
rubbing against each other, have their edges slightly rounded up, and in
this form receive the name of _pancake_ ice.
When a quantity of ice covers the ocean in a wide level sheet of
considerable extent, it is called an _ice-field_. Fields of this kind
are often seen by navigators hundreds of miles in extent, and nearly
thirty feet thick. Ice of such thickness, however, only shows five or
six feet above water. When fields are broken by heavy ocean-swells, the
edges are violently forced up, and fall in debris on the surface; thus
_hummocks_ or mounds are formed.
When field-ice breaks up under the influence of an ocean-swell, caused
by a storm, the results are terrific.
An exceedingly graphic account of an incident of this kind is given by
Dr Brown, in his "History of the Propagation of Christianity." He
writes:--
"The missionaries met a sledge with Esquimaux, turning in from the sea,
who threw out some hints that it might be as well for them to return.
After some time, their own Esquimaux hinted that there was a
ground-swell under the ice. It was then scarcely perceptible, except on
lying down and applying the ear close to the ice, when a hollow,
disagreeable, grating sound was heard ascending from the abyss. As the
motion of the sea under the ice had grown more perceptible, they became
alarmed, and began to think it prudent to keep close to the shore. The
ice also had fissures in many places, some of which formed chasms of one
or two feet; but as these are not uncommon in ice even in its best
state, and the dogs easily leap over them, they are frightful only to
strangers.
"As the wind rose to a storm, the swell had now increased so much that
its effects on the ice were extraordinary, and really alarming. The
sledges, instead of gliding smoothly along as on an even surface,
sometimes ran with violence after the dogs, and sometimes seemed with
difficulty to ascend a rising hill. Noises, too, like the report of
cannon, were now distinctly heard in many directions, from the bursting
of the ice at a distance. Alarmed at these frightful phenomena, our
travellers drove with all haste towards the shore; and, as they
approached it, the prospect before them was tremendous. The ice having
burst loose from the rocks, was tossed to and fro, and broken in a
thousand pieces against the precipices with a dreadful noise; which,
added to the raging of the sea, the roaring of the wind, and the driving
of the snow, so overpowered them as almost completely to deprive them of
the use of their eyes and ears.
"To make the land was now the only resource that remained, but it was
with the utmost difficulty that the frightened dogs could be driven
forward; and as the whole body of the ice frequently sank below the
summits of the rocks, and then rose above them, the only time for
landing was the moment it gained the level of the coast--a circumstance
which rendered the attempt extremely nice and hazardous.
"Both sledges, however, succeeded in gaining the shore, and were drawn
up off the beach, though not without great difficulty. Scarcely had
they reached it, when that part of the ice from which they had just
escaped burst asunder, and the water, rushing up from beneath, instantly
precipitated it into the ocean. In a moment, as if by a signal, the
whole mass of ice for several miles along the coast, and extending as
far as the eye could reach, began to break up, and to be overwhelmed by
the waves. The spectacle was awfully grand. The immense fields of ice
rising out of the ocean clashing against each other, and then plunging
into the deep with a violence which no language can describe, and with a
noise like the discharge of a thousand cannon, was a sight which must
have filled the most unreflecting mind with feelings of solemnity.
"The Brethren were overwhelmed with amazement at their miraculous
escape, and even the Esquimaux expressed gratitude to God for their
deliverance."
Such is the terrible aspect in which field-ice is seen when broken up
and converted into smaller masses or _floes_. When these lie closely
together the mass is called _pack-ice_; in which shape it usually drifts
away with the southern currents, and, separating as it travels south, is
met with in loose floating masses, of every fantastic form. There is
always, as we have said, a large quantity of floe and pack-ice in the
polar seas, which becomes incorporated with the new ice of the
succeeding winter; and not infrequently whale and discovery ships get
frozen into the pack, and remain there as firmly embedded as if they lay
high and dry on land. When the pack is thus re-frozen, it usually
remains stationary; but there are occasions and circumstances in which
the entire body of a pack drifts slowly southward even during the whole
year; showing clearly that oceanic circulation is by no means arrested
by the icy hand of the hyperborean winter.
A very remarkable drift of this kind is recorded by Captain McClintock
of the _Fox_, which is worthy of being noticed here, as illustrative of
the subject we are now considering and also as showing in a remarkable
manner the awful dangers to which navigators may be exposed by the
disruption of the pack in spring, and the wonderful, almost miraculous,
manner in which they are delivered from imminent destruction.
In attempting to cross Baffin's Bay, by penetrating what is called the
"middle ice," the _Fox_ was beset, and finally frozen in for the winter;
and here, although their voyage may be said to have just commenced, they
were destined to spend many months in helpless inactivity and
comparative peril and privation. Their little vessel lay in the centre
of a field of ice of immense extent; so large, indeed, that they could
not venture to undertake a journey to ascertain its limits. Yet this
field slowly and steadily descended Baffin's Bay during the whole
winter, and passed over no fewer than 1385 statute miles in the space of
242 days, during which period the _Fox_ was firmly embedded in it!
It is with difficulty the mind can form any adequate conception of the
position of those voyagers;--unable to move from their icy bed, yet
constantly drifting over miles and miles of ocean; uncertain as to the
where or the when of their deliverance from the pack; exposed to the
terrible dangers of disrupting ice, and surrounded by the depressing
gloom of the long arctic night.
At length deliverance came; but it came surrounded by terrors. In
February, McClintock writes thus: "Daylight reveals to us evidences of
vast ice-movements having taken place during the dark months, when we
fancied all was still and quiet; and we now see how greatly we have been
favoured, what innumerable chances of destruction we have unconsciously
escaped. A few days ago, the ice suddenly cracked within ten yards of
the ship, and gave her such a smart shock that every one rushed on deck
with astonishing alacrity. One of these sudden disruptions occurred
between me and the ship, when I was returning from the iceberg. The sun
was just setting as I found myself cut off... At length I reached a
place where the jagged edges of the floes met; so crossed, and got
safely on board."
Again, in March, he says, "Last night the ice closed, shutting up our
lane; but its opposite sides continued for several hours to move vast
each other, rubbing off all projections, crushing and forcing out of the
water masses four feet thick. Although one hundred and twenty yards
distant, this pressure shook the ship and cracked the intervening ice."
Soon after that, a heavy gale burst upon them from the south-east,
encircling them with snow-drift so dense that they could neither hear
nor see what was going on twenty yards off. At night the ship became
suddenly detached from her wintry bed, and heeled over to the storm,
inducing them to believe that the whole pack had been broken in, and was
pressing against them. This was not the case. A large mass of ice had
protected them; but at a distance of about fifty yards, ice of four and
a half feet thick had been crushed to atoms. Soon after, the protecting
mass yielded, and the _Fox_ received a nip which lifted her stern about
a foot, while occasional groaning from her sturdy little hull replied to
the wild surgings of the ice without.
But all this was as nothing compared with the scene of desperate turmoil
and confusion which took place when the ice finally broke up, and a gale
raised a fearful swell; so that the _Fox_ found herself surrounded by
huge masses, which tossed and ground against each other furiously, and
any two of which pieces could have crushed in her sides as if she had
been made of walnut shell. Gradually the pack opened out, and the
vessel, by aid of wind and steam, was mercifully delivered from her
dangerous position.
Before passing from the subject of risk to navigators to the
consideration of other forms and aspects of polar ice, let us take a
glance at an effectual case of nipping. There have been many partial
and severe nips, the descriptions of which are all more or less graphic;
but few ships have come so suddenly to the end of their career as did
the _Breadalbane_, a small vessel that was used as a transport ship to
the expedition in search of Sir John Franklin in 1852. One who was on
board when it occurred thus describes it:--
_Sunday, August 21st_.--About ten minutes past four, the ice passing the
ship awoke me, and the door of my cabin, from the pressure, opened. I
hurriedly put on my clothes, and on getting on deck found some hands on
the ice endeavouring to save the boats; but the latter were instantly
crushed to pieces. They little thought, when using their efforts to
save the boats, that the ship was in so perilous a situation.
I went forward to hail the _Phoenix_ (another ship that was fortunately
near) for men to save the boats; and whilst doing so, the ropes by which
we were secured parted, and a heavy nip took us, making every timber
creak, and the ship tremble all over. I looked in the main hold, and
saw the beams giving way. I hailed those on the ice, and told them of
our critical situation, they not for one moment suspecting it. I then
rushed to my cabin, hauled out my portmanteau on deck, and roared like a
bull to those in their beds to jump out and save their lives. The
startling effect on them might be more easily imagined than described.
On reaching the deck, those on the ice called out to me to jump over the
side, that the ship was going over. I left my portmanteau, and jumped
over the side on the loose ice, and with difficulty, and with the
assistance of those on the ice, succeeded in getting on the unbroken
part, with the loss of the slippers I had on when quitting the vessel,
with wet feet, etcetera. The cold was little thought of at the exciting
moment--life, not property, being the object to be saved.
"After being on the ice about five minutes, the timbers, etcetera, in
the ship cracking up as matches would in the hand, it eased for a short
time; and I, with some others, returned to the ship, with the view of
saving some of our effects.
"Captain Inglefield now came running towards the ship, and ordered me to
see if the ice was through it. On looking down into the hold, I saw all
the beams, etcetera, falling about in a manner that would have been
certain death to me had I ventured down there. But there was no
occasion for that (I mean to ascertain the fact of the ice being
through), it being too evident that the ship could not last many
minutes. I then sounded the well, and found five feet in the hold; and,
whilst in the act of sounding, a heavier nip than before pressed out the
starboard bow, and the ice was forced right into the forecastle. Every
one then abandoned the ship, with what few clothes they saved--some with
only what they had on. The ship now began to sink fast, and from the
time her bowsprit touched the ice until her mast-heads were out of
sight, did not occupy above one minute and a half!
"It was a very sad and unceremonious way of being turned out of our
ship. From the time the first nip took her, until her disappearance,
did not occupy more than fifteen minutes."
Such is the account of the fate of the _Breadalbane_. While we read it,
we cannot help feeling that many arctic ships must have perished in a
similar manner. It is wonderful, nevertheless, how many of those that
dare the dangers of the ice survive the conflict. Undoubtedly this is
owing, to a large extent, to the fact that ships' bottoms are rounded;
so that when a severe nip takes place, there is a tendency in the ice to
slip under their rounded bottoms, and squeeze the vessels up out of the
water. Were it not for this, few ships that have gone to those seas
would ever have returned.
A catastrophe such as that which befell the _Breadalbane_ shows the
immense power of field-ice. Hundreds of somewhat similar incidents
might be cited to illustrate this power; but we content ourselves with
the selection of one instance, which exhibits it in a remarkable manner,
and at the same time shows the way in which heavy vessels are sometimes
forced out of the water.
In the year 1836, Captain Back commanded the _Terror_, which was sent
out to make geographical discoveries in the polar regions, and spent the
winter of that year in the ice. Few ships have undergone severer tests
than did the _Terror_ on that voyage. The severest treatment she
experienced was in the spring, when the disruption of the winter ice
began to take place. The evening of the 7th of March was specially
fraught with danger. We quote the gallant commander's graphic
account:--
"Ominous rushing sounds were heard far off to the north-east and
north-west. These gradually drew nearer as the flood made its way,
either under the compact bodies that withstood the shock, or along the
cracks and openings--gaining in these latter a furious velocity, to
which everything seemed to yield.
"It happened that there were several of these around the ship; and when
they opened on us like so many conduits pouring their contents to a
common centre, the concussion was absolutely appalling, rending the
lining and bulkheads in every part, loosening some shores and
stanchions, so that the slightest effort would have thrown them down,
and compressing others with such force as to make the turpentine ooze
out of their extremities. One fir plank, placed horizontally between
the beams and the shores actually glittered with globules. At the same
time the pressure was going on from the larboard side, where the three
heaviest parts of the ruin of the floe remained, cracked here and there,
but yet adhering in firm and solid bodies. These, of course, were
irresistible; and after much groaning, splitting, and cracking,
accompanied by sounds like the explosion of cannon, the ship rose fore
and aft, and heeled over about ten degrees to starboard."
Again, on the 11th, Back says: "At this time she showed symptoms of
suffering in the hull, which was evidently undergoing a severe ordeal.
Inexplicable noises, in which the sharp sounds of splitting and the
harsher ones of grinding were most distinct, came in quick succession,
and then again stopped suddenly, leaving all so still that not even a
breath was heard.
"In an instant the ship was felt to rise under our feet, and the roaring
and rushing commenced with a deafening din alongside, abeam and astern,
at one and the same instant. Alongside, the grinding masses held the
ship tight as in a vice; while the overwhelming pressure of the entire
body, advancing from the west, so wedged the stern and starboard
quarter, that the greatest apprehensions were entertained for the
stern-post and framework abaft.
"Some idea of the power exerted on this occasion may be gathered from
this:--At the moment which I am now describing, the fore-part of the
ship was literally buried as high as the flukes of the anchors in a dock
of perpendicular walls of ice; so that, in that part, she might well
have been thought immovable. Still, such was the force applied to her
abaft, that after much cracking and perceptible yielding of the beams,
which seemed to curve upwards, she actually rose by sheer pressure above
the dock forward; and then, with sudden jerks, did the same abaft.
During these convulsions, many of the carpenters and others stationed
below were violently thrown down on the deck, as people are in an
earthquake. It was a moment of intense suspense.
"On the 16th, another rush drove irresistibly on the larboard quarter
and stern, and forcing the ship ahead, raised her on the ice. A chaotic
ruin followed... The ship was careened fully four streaks, and sprang a
leak as before. Scarcely were ten minutes left us for the expression of
our astonishment that anything of human build could outlive such
assaults, when another equally violent rush succeeded; and in its way
toward the starboard quarter threw up a rolling wave thirty feet high,
crowned by a blue square mass of many tons, resembling the entire side
of a house, which, after hanging for some time in doubtful poise on the
ridge, at length fell with a crash into the hollow, in which, as in a
cavern, the after-part of the ship seemed embedded. It was, indeed, an
awful crisis, rendered more frightful from the mistiness of the night
and dimness of the moon.
"The poor ship cracked and trembled violently, and no one could say that
the next minute would not be her last--and, indeed, his own too, for
with her our means of safety would probably perish."
It is unnecessary to give additional instances of this kind, in order to
show the terrible power of field-ice. Indeed, it requires little in the
way of illumination to prove that masses of solid matter, many thousands
of tons in weight, can, when in motion, utterly destroy the most
powerful engines of human construction.
We shall now turn our attention to another, and a very prominent form,
in which arctic ice presents itself--namely, that of icebergs.