QUESTION OF AN OPEN SEA ROUND THE POLES--UPPER AND UNDER CURRENTS OF THE
OCEAN--CAUSE THEREOF--HABITS OF THE WHALE AS BEARING ON THE QUESTION--
DR. KANE'S DISCOVERY OF AN OPEN SEA IN THE FAR NORTH--NOTES ON THE
EXPEDITION--A BEAR-HUNT.
It was long and very naturally supposed that the impenetrable ice of the
arctic regions extended to, and, as it were, sealed up the pole. But
from time to time philosophic observers of Nature's laws began to hint
their opinion that there is an open ocean around the pole; and of late
years this opinion has all but been converted into a firm belief.
Maury remarks, that like air--like the body--the ocean _must_ have a
system of circulation for its waters. And an attentive study of the
currents of the sea, and a close examination of the laws which govern
the movements of the waters in their channels of circulation through the
ocean, will lead us irresistibly to the conclusion that always, in
summer and winter, there must be, somewhere within the arctic circle, a
large body of open water.
There is an under-current setting from the Atlantic, northward through
Davis' Straits, into the Arctic Ocean, and a surface-current setting
out.
The fact is proved beyond a doubt by the observations of arctic
explorers, who have seen immense icebergs drifting rapidly northward
against a strong current. This apparent anomaly could only be accounted
for by the fact that a powerful undercurrent carried them northward; and
as at least seven times more of these bergs must have been under than
above water, we can easily understand how the under-current, acting on
the larger mass of each berg, had power to carry it against the
surface-current.
This under-current is _warm_, while the upper-current is _cold_. Now we
know that according to Nature's laws, heated water, like heated air,
rises to the surface, and cold water sinks to the bottom. How, then,
comes this warm current to be underneath the cold, as soundings have
proved it to be? It is owing to the fact that the under-current is much
salter, and therefore heavier (despite its warmth), than the
surface-current; which latter, being mingled with the drainage and
ice-masses of the arctic regions, is comparatively fresh, and therefore
light as well as cold.
The hot and salt waters of the tropics are carried north by the Gulf
Stream. There are here two counteracting agents at work. Heat inclines
the Gulf Stream to rise; saltness inclines it to sink. During the first
part of its journey, as we know, its great heat prevails over the other
influence, and it flows as a surface-current. But, at a certain point
in its northward route, it meets with the cold, brackish, ice-bearing
currents that flow out of the arctic basin. Having lost much of its
heat (though still possessing a great deal more than the arctic
currents), the saltness of the Gulf Stream prevails; it dips below the
polar waters, and thenceforth continues its course as an under-current,
salt, and comparatively warm.
To state the matter briefly: The hot water, which _ought_ to keep on the
surface because of its heat, is sunk by its superabundant salt; and the
cold water, which _ought_ to sink because of its cold, is buoyed on the
surface because of its want of salt.
Now arises the question--what becomes of the great quantity of salt that
is thus being carried perpetually into the polar basin? Manifestly it
must be carried out again by the surface-current, otherwise the polar
basin would of necessity become a basin of salt. The under-current
_must_, therefore, rise to the surface somewhere near the pole, with its
temperature necessarily only a little, if at all, below the
freezing-point--which, be it observed, is a _warm_ temperature for such
regions. Here, then, where the warm waters from the south rise to the
surface, it is supposed this open Arctic Ocean must exist.
So much for theory. Now for facts that have been observed, and that
tend, more or less, to corroborate this proposition of an open polar
sea. The habits of the whale have gone far to prove it. The log-books
of whalers have for many years been carefully examined and compared by
scientific men. These investigations have led to the discovery "that
the tropical regions of the ocean are to the `right' whale as a sea of
fire, through which he cannot pass, and into which he never enters." It
has also been ascertained that the same kind of whale which is found off
the shores of Greenland, in Baffin's Bay, etcetera, is found in the
North Pacific, and about Behring's Straits; and that the `right' whale
of the southern hemisphere is a different animal from that of the
northern. How, then, came the Greenland whales to pass from the
Greenland seas to the Pacific? Not by the Capes Horn or Good Hope; the
"sea of fire" precluded that. Clearly there was ground here for
concluding that they did so through the (supposed) open sea lying
beyond, or rather within, the frozen ocean.
It is true the objection might be made, that the same kind of whale
which exists in the North Pacific exists also in the North Atlantic,
although they never cross over to see each other. But another discovery
has met this objection.
It is the custom among whalers to have their harpoons marked with date
and name of ship, and Dr Scoresby, in his work on arctic voyages
mentions several instances of whales having been taken near Behring's
Straits, with harpoons in them bearing the stamp of ships that were
known to cruise in the Greenland seas; and the dates on the harpoons
were so recent as to preclude the supposition that the said whales had,
after being struck, made a voyage round the capes above mentioned,--even
were such a voyage possible to them. All this does not, indeed,
absolutely prove the existence of an open arctic sea, but it does, we
think, prove the existence of at least an _occasionally_ open sea there,
for it is well known that whales cannot travel such immense distances
under ice.
But the most conclusive evidence that we have in regard to this subject
is the fact, that one of the members of Dr Kane's expedition, while in
search of Sir John Franklin, did actually, on foot, reach what we have
every reason to believe was this open sea; but not being able to get
their ship into it, the party had no means of exploring it, or extending
their investigations. The account of this discovery is so interesting,
and withal so romantic, that we extract a few paragraphs relating to it
from Kane's work.
After spending the dreary winter in the ice-locked and unexplored
channels beyond the head of Baffin's Bay, Kane found his little ship
still hopelessly beset in the month of June; he therefore resolved to
send out a sledge-party under Morton, one of his best men, to explore
the channel to the north of their position. After twelve days'
travelling they came to the base of the "Great Glacier," where Morton
left his party, and, in company with an Esquimaux named Hans, set out
with a dog-sledge to prosecute the journey of exploration.
They walked on the sea-ice in a line parallel with the glacier, and
proceeded twenty-eight miles that day, although the snow was knee-deep
and soft. At the place where they encamped a crack enabled them to
measure the ice. It was seven feet five inches thick! And this in
June. We may mention here, in passing, that Dr Kane never got his
vessel out of that frozen strait, which seems to be bound by perpetual
ice. He and his party escaped with their lives; but the vessel that
bore them thither is probably still embedded in that ice.
Next day Morton and Hans came to a region of icebergs, which had
arrested a previous sledging-party of the same expedition. "These
[icebergs] were generally very high, evidently newly separated from the
glacier. Their surfaces were fresh and glassy, and not like those
generally met with in Baffin's Bay,--less worn, and bluer, and looking
in all respects like the face of the Great Glacier. Many were
rectangular, some of them regular squares, a quarter of a mile each way;
others more than a mile long."
To pass amidst these bergs was a matter of labour, difficulty, and
danger. Sometimes the sides of them came so close together, that the
men could scarcely squeeze between them, and they were obliged to search
for other passages; in doing which, the variation of their compass
confused them. At other times, "a tolerably wide passage would appear
between two bergs, which they would gladly follow; then a narrower one;
then no opening in front, but one to the side. Following that a little
distance, a blank ice-cliff would close the way altogether, and they
were forced to retrace their steps and begin again."
Thus they puzzled their way through, "like a blind man in the streets of
a strange city;" but more difficulties awaited them beyond. After
advancing many miles they were arrested by broad rents in the ice, and
were obliged to diverge frequently far out of their course, or to bridge
the chasms over by cutting down the ice hummocks and filling them up
with loose ice, until the dogs were able to haul the provision-sledge
over.
Advancing thus for several days, and encamping on the snow at night,
they at last came to a spot where the ice was dangerous. "It was weak
and rotten, and the dogs began to tremble." Proceeding at a brisk rate,
they had got upon unsafe ice before they were aware of it. Their course
was at the time nearly up the middle of the channel; but as soon as
possible they turned, and by a backward circuit reached the shore. The
dogs, as their fashion is, at first lay down and refused to proceed,
trembling violently. The only way to induce the terrified, obstinate
brutes to get on, was for Hans to go to a white-looking spot, where the
ice was thicker, the soft stuff looking dark; then calling the dogs
coaxingly by name, they would crawl to him on their bellies. So they
retreated from place to place, until they reached the firm ice they had
quitted. A half mile brought them to comparatively safe ice, a mile
more to good ice again.
In the midst of this danger they had, during the liftings of the fog,
sighted open water. Soon after they saw it plainly. So many long and
dreary months had these men passed since they were gladdened by the
sight of open water, that they could scarcely believe their eyes; and
Morton declared, that but for the birds which were seen flying about it
in great numbers, he would not have believed it.
They made for the land-ice as fast as possible, and quickly gained it;
but the sea-ice had cracked off and sunk so much, that the land-ice
presented a wall along the whole coast of about eight or nine feet high.
It was quite perpendicular, in some places overhanging, so that it was
a matter of the greatest difficulty they managed to throw up the
provisions, clamber up themselves, and haul the dogs and sledge up
afterwards. This accomplished, however, they were safe, and could
advance with confidence. But this mass of land-ice became narrower as
they proceeded, till at last it dwindled to a mere narrow ledge,
clinging to the high, perpendicular cliffs, and looking as if at any
moment it might crumble off and fall with them into the open water
between it and the floating sea-ice.
The sea here was very deep and clear. They could see the bottom quite
plainly, although a stone they cast in, the size of a man's head, took
twenty-eight seconds to reach it.
Being now afraid of the ice-ledge, they attempted to find a path along
the face of the cliff; but failing in this, Morton determined to leave
part of the provisions in "_cache_," and proceed with a lighter load.
The cape round which they were travelling, and on the other side of
which lay the open water, was extremely bold, and the ice-ledge at the
end of it was barely three feet wide; so they were obliged to unloose
the dogs, and drive them forward alone, then tilted the sledge on one
runner, and thus pushed it past the worst place.
Here the ice on the sea was partly broken up, and a strong tide was
running from the southward. The night before it had been running from
the north. As they advanced, the channel became still more open, and
after passing the cape they saw nothing but open water, with innumerable
wild sea-birds of every description flying overhead, or disporting in
the pools. Let it by observed here, however, that this was the open
water of a strait or channel,--not the great Arctic Sea, about the
probable existence of which we have been writing. Upon the ice-masses
near them numerous seals were seen basking.
One thing that struck them much here was, that although strong north
winds, amounting to a gale at times, had been blowing for several days,
no ice had been brought down from the north into the channel, along the
shore of which they travelled. Thick, damp fogs prevailed, preventing
them from seeing far in advance at any time.
At last they came to a place where the broken ice of the shore rendered
passage for the sledge impossible. They therefore tied the dogs,
intending to push forward a short way alone. But they had not been
sufficiently careful to secure them; for the poor animals, supposing
themselves deserted, no doubt, succeeded in breaking their lines, and
rejoined the two men in about an hour after. This, as it turned out,
was rather a fortunate circumstance.
Preparatory to quitting their sledge, the men had loaded themselves with
eight pounds of pemmican and two of biscuit, besides the artificial
horizon, sextant, and compass, a rifle, and a boathook. They had not
been an hour gone when, as above stated, four of the dogs overtook them.
An hour afterwards they came upon a polar bear with her cub.
The fight that followed, although somewhat foreign to our subject, is so
graphically described by Dr Kane, that we think it quite unnecessary to
apologise for inserting it here.
"The bear instantly took to flight; but the little one being unable to
keep pace with her, she turned back, and, putting her head under its
haunches, threw it some distance. The cub safe for the moment, she
would then wheel round and face the dogs, so as to give it a chance to
run away; but it always stopped, just as it alighted, till she came up
and threw it ahead again; it seemed to expect her aid, and would not go
on without it. Sometimes the mother would run a few yards ahead, as if
to coax the young one up to her, and when the dogs came up she would
turn and drive them back then, as they dodged her blows, she would
rejoin the cub and push on, sometimes putting her head under it,
sometimes catching it in her mouth by the nape of the neck.
"For a time she managed her retreat with great celerity, leaving the two
men far in the rear. They had engaged her on the land-ice; but she led
the dogs in-shore, up a small stony valley which opened into the
interior. After she had gone a mile and a half, her pace slackened,
and, the little one being jaded, she soon came to a halt.
"The men were then only half a mile behind, and running at full speed.
They soon came up to where the dogs were holding her at bay. The fight
was now a desperate one. The mother never went more than two yards
ahead, constantly looking at the cub. When the dogs came near her, she
would sit upon her haunches, and take the little one between her
hind-legs, fighting the dogs with her paws, and roaring so that she
could have been heard a mile off. Never was an animal more distressed.
She would stretch her neck and snap at the nearest dog with her shining
teeth, whirling her paws like the arms of a windmill. If she missed her
aim, not daring to pursue one dog lest the others should harm the cub,
she would give a great roar of baffled rage, and go on pawing and
snapping, and facing the ring, grinning at them with her mouth stretched
wide.
"When the men came up the little one was perhaps rested, for it was able
to turn round with its dam, no matter how quick she moved, so as to keep
always in front of her belly. The five dogs were all the time frisking
about her actively, tormenting her like so many gad-flies. Indeed they
made it difficult to take an aim at her without killing them. But Hans,
lying on his elbow, took a quiet aim, and shot her through the head.
She dropped and rolled over dead, without moving a muscle.
"The dogs sprang towards her at once; but the cub jumped upon her body
and reared up, for the first time growling hoarsely. They seemed quite
afraid of the little creature, she fought so actively, and made so much
noise; and, while tearing mouthfuls of hair from the dead mother, they
would spring aside the minute the cub turned towards them. The men
drove the dogs off for a time, but were obliged to shoot the cub at
last, as she would not quit the body.
"Hans fired into her head. It did not reach the brain, though it
knocked her down; but she was still able to climb on her mother's body,
and try to defend it, her mouth bleeding like a gutter-spout. They were
obliged to despatch her with stones."
After skinning the old one they gashed its body, and the dogs fed upon
it ravenously. The little one they _cached_ for themselves against
their return.
This little fight quite knocked up Hans the Esquimaux; Morton therefore
advanced alone, in the hope of being able to get beyond a huge cape that
lay before him. On reaching it, the grand sight of an _apparently
boundless ocean of open water_ met his eye. Only "four or five small
pieces" of ice were seen on the glancing waves of this hitherto unknown
sea. "Viewed from the cliffs," writes Dr Kane, "and taking thirty-six
miles as the mean radius open to reliable survey, this sea had a
justly-estimated extent of more than 4000 square miles."
Here, then, in all probability, is the great Arctic Ocean that has been
supposed to exist in a perpetually fluid state round the pole, encircled
by a ring of ice that has hitherto presented an impenetrable barrier to
all the adventurers of ancient and modern times. There were several
facts connected with this discovery that go far to prove that this ocean
is perpetually open.
Further south, where Dr Kane's brig lay in ice that seemed never to
melt, there were few signs of animal life--only a seal or two now and
then; but here, on the margin of this far northern sea, were myriads of
water-fowl of various kinds.
"The Brent goose," writes the Doctor, "had not been seen before since
entering Smith's Strait. It is well known to the polar traveller as a
migratory bird of the American continent. Like the others of the same
family, it feeds upon vegetable matter, generally on marine plants, with
their adherent molluscan life. It is rarely or never seen in the
interior; and from its habits may be regarded as singularly indicative
of open water. The flocks of this bird, easily distinguished by their
wedge-shaped line of flight, now crossed the water obliquely, and
disappeared over the land to the north-east.
"The rocks on shore were crowded with sea-swallows, birds whose habits
require open water; and they were already breeding. The gulls were
represented by no less than four species. The kittiwakes--reminding
Morton of `old times in Baffin's Bay'--were again stealing fish from the
water (probably the small whiting), and their grim cousins, the
burgomasters, enjoying the dinner thus provided at so little cost to
themselves. It was a picture of life all round.
"Here, for the first time, Morton noticed the arctic petrel,--a fact
which shows the accuracy of his observation, though he had not been
aware of its importance. This bird had not been met with since we left
the north water of the English whalers, more than two hundred miles
south of the position on which he stood. Its food is essentially
marine; and it is seldom seen in numbers, except in the highways of open
water frequented by the whale and the larger representatives of ocean
life. They were in numbers flitting and hovering over the crests of the
waves, like their relatives of kinder climates,--the Cape of Good Hope
pigeons, Mother Carey's chickens, and the petrels everywhere else.
"It must have been an imposing sight, as Morton stood at this
termination of his journey, looking out upon the great waste of waters
before him. Not a speck of ice could be seen. There, from a height of
480 feet, which commanded a horizon of almost forty miles, his ears were
gladdened with the novel music of dashing waves; and a surf, breaking in
among the rocks at his feet, stayed his further progress."
Strong presumptive evidence, all this, that there is an ocean of open
water round the pole, and a milder climate there than exists nearer to
the arctic circle. Had the short barrier of ice that intervened between
the brig and that mysterious sea been removed, as, perchance, it is
sometimes removed by a hot summer, Dr Kane might have been the first to
reach the North Pole. This, however, is reserved for some other
navigator. The gallant Kane now lies in an early grave but some of his
enterprising comrades have returned to those regions, bent on solving
this problem; and it is possible that, even while we now write, their
adventurous keel may be ploughing the waters of the hitherto untraversed
and mysterious polar sea.