Winter Arrangements—Improvements in Warming and Ventilating the
Ships—Masquerades adopted as an Amusement to the Men—Establishment of
Schools—Astronomical Observations—Meteorological Phenomena.
_October_.—Our present winter arrangements so closely resembled, in
general, those before adopted, that a fresh description of them here
would prove little more than a repetition of that already contained in
the narratives of our former voyages. On each succeeding occasion,
however, some improvements were made which, for the benefit of those
hereafter engaged in similar enterprises, it may be proper to record.
For all those whose lot it may be to succeed us, sooner or later, in
these inhospitable regions, may be assured that it is only by rigid and
unremitted attention to these and numberless other “little things” that
they can hope to enjoy the good state of health which, under the Divine
blessing, it has always been our happiness, in so extraordinary a degree,
to experience.
In the description I shall offer of the appearances of nature, and of the
various occurrences, during this winter, I know not how I can do better
than pursue a method similar to that heretofore practised, by confining
myself rather to the pointing out of any difference observed in them now
and formerly, than by entering on a fresh description of the actual
phenomena. To those who read, as well as to those who describe, the
account of a winter passed in these regions can no longer be expected to
afford the interest of novelty it once possessed; more especially in a
station already delineated with tolerable geographical precision on our
maps, and thus, as it were, brought near to our firesides at home.
Independently, indeed, of this circumstance, it is hard to conceive any
one thing more like another than two winters passed in the higher
latitudes of the Polar regions, except when variety happens to be
afforded by intercourse with some other branch of “the whole family of
man.” Winter after winter, nature here assumes an aspect so much alike,
that cursory observation can scarcely detect a single feature of variety.
The winter of more temperate climates, and even in some of no slight
severity, is occasionally diversified by a thaw, which at once gives
variety and comparative cheerfulness to the prospect. But here, when
once the earth is covered, all is dreary, monotonous whiteness—not merely
for days or weeks, but for more than half a year together. Whichever way
the eye is turned, it meets a picture calculated to impress upon the mind
an idea of inanimate stillness, of that motionless torpor with which our
feelings have nothing congenial; of anything, in short, but life. In the
very silence there is a deadness with which a human spectator appears out
of keeping. The presence of man seems an intrusion on the dreary
solitude of this wintry desert, which even its native animals have for
awhile forsaken.
As this general description of the aspect of nature would suit alike each
winter we have passed in the ice, so also, with very little variation,
might our limited catalogue of occurrences and adventures serve equally
for any one of those seasons. Creatures of circumstance, we act and feel
as we did before on every like occasion, and as others will probably do
after us in the same situation. Whatever difference time or events may
have wrought in individual feelings, and however different the
occupations which those feelings may have suggested, they are not such
as, without impertinence, can be intruded upon others; with these “the
stranger intermeddleth not.” I am persuaded, therefore, that I shall be
excused in sparing the dulness of another winter’s diary, and confining
myself exclusively to those facts which appear to possess any scientific
interest, to the few incidents which did diversify our confinement, and
to such remarks as may contribute to the health and comfort of any future
sojourners in these dreary regions.
It may well be supposed that, in this climate, the principal desideratum
which art is called upon to furnish for the promotion of health, is
warmth, as well in the external air as in the inhabited apartments.
Exposure to a cold atmosphere, when the body is well clothed, produces no
bad effect whatever beyond a frost-bitten cheek, nose, or finger. As for
any injury to healthy lungs from the breathing of cold air, or from
sudden changes from this into a warm atmosphere, or _vice versâ_, it may
with much confidence be asserted that, with due attention to external
clothing, there is nothing in this respect to be apprehended. This
inference, at least, would appear legitimate, from the fact that our
crews, consisting of one hundred and twenty persons, have for four
winters been constantly undergoing, for months together, a change of from
eighty to a hundred degrees of temperature, in the space of time required
for opening two doors (perhaps less than half a minute), without
incurring any pulmonary complaints at all. Nor is a covering for the
mouth at all necessary under these circumstances, though to most persons
very conducive to comfort; for some individuals, from extreme dislike to
the condensation and freezing of the breath about the “comforter”
generally used for this purpose, have never worn any such defence for the
mouth; and this without the slightest injurious effect or uncomfortable
feeling beyond that of a cold face, which becomes comparatively trifling
by habit.
In speaking of the external clothing sufficient for health in this
climate, it must be confessed that, in severe exposure, quite a load of
woollen clothes, even of the best quality, is insufficient to retain a
comfortable degree of warmth; a strong breeze carrying it off so rapidly
that the sensation is that of the cold piercing through the body. A
jacket made very long, like those called by seamen “pea-jackets,” and
lined with fur throughout, would be more effectual than twice the weight
of woollen clothes, and is indeed almost weather-proof. For the
prevention of lumbago, to which our seamen are especially liable, from
their well-known habit of leaving their loins imperfectly clothed, every
man should be strictly obliged to wear, under his outer clothes, a canvas
belt a foot broad, lined with flannel, and having straps to go over the
shoulder.
It is certain, however, that no precautions in clothing are sufficient to
maintain health during a Polar winter, without a due degree of warmth in
the apartments we inhabit. Most persons are apt to associate with the
idea of warmth, something like the comfort derived from a good fire on a
winter’s evening at home; but in these regions the case is inconceivably
different: here it is not simple comfort, but health, and therefore
ultimately life, that depends upon it. The want of a constant supply of
warmth is here immediately followed by a condensation of all the
moisture, whether from the breath, victuals, or other sources, into
abundant drops of water, very rapidly forming on all the coldest parts of
the deck. A still lower temperature modifies, and perhaps improves the
annoyance by converting it into ice, which again an occasional increase
of warmth dissolves into water. Nor is this the amount of the evil,
though it is the only visible part of it; for not only is a moist
atmosphere thus incessantly kept up, but it is rendered stagnant also by
the want of that ventilation which warmth alone can furnish. With an
apartment in this state, the men’s clothes and bedding are continually in
a moist and unwholesome condition, generating a deleterious air, which
there is no circulation to carry off; and whenever these circumstances
combine for any length of time together, so surely may the scurvy, to say
nothing of other diseases, be confidently expected to exhibit itself.
With a strong conviction of these facts, arising from the extreme anxiety
with which I have been accustomed to watch every minute circumstance
connected with the health of our people, it may be conceived how highly I
must appreciate any means that can be devised to counteract effects so
pernicious. Such means have been completely furnished by Mr. Sylvester’s
warming apparatus—a contrivance of which I scarcely know how to express
my admiration in adequate terms. The alteration adopted on this voyage,
of placing this stove in the very bottom of the hold, produced not only
the effect naturally to be expected from it, of increasing the rapidity
of the current of warm air, and thus carrying it to all the officers’
cabins with less loss of heat in its passage; but was also accompanied by
an advantage scarcely less important, which had _not_ been anticipated.
This was the perfect and uniform warmth maintained during the winter in
both cable-tiers, which, when cleared of all the stores, gave us another
habitable deck, on which more than one-third of the men’s hammocks were
berthed, thus affording to the ships’ companies, during seven or eight
months of the year, the indescribable comfort of nearly twice the space
for their beds, and twice the volume of air to breathe in. It need
scarcely be added, how conducive to wholesome ventilation, and to the
prevention of moisture below, such an arrangement proved; suffice it to
say, that we have never before been so free from moisture, and that I
cannot but chiefly attribute to this apparatus the unprecedented good
state of health we enjoyed during this winter.
Every attention was, as usual, paid to the occupation and diversion of
the men’s minds, as well as to the regularity of their bodily exercise.
Our former amusements being almost worn threadbare, it required some
ingenuity to devise any plan that should possess the charm of novelty to
recommend it. This purpose was completely answered, however, by a
proposal of Captain Hoppner, to attempt a masquerade, in which officers
and men should alike take part, but which, without imposing any restraint
whatever, would leave every one to their own choice, whether to join in
this diversion or not. It is impossible that any idea could have proved
more happy or more exactly suited to our situation. Admirably dressed
characters of various descriptions readily took their parts, and many of
these were supported with a degree of spirit and genuine humour which
would not have disgraced a more refined assembly; while the latter might
not have disdained, and would not have been disgraced by copying the good
order, decorum, and inoffensive cheerfulness which our humble masquerades
presented. It does especial credit to the dispositions and good sense of
our men that, though all the officers entered fully into the spirit of
these amusements, which took place once a month alternately on board each
ship, no instance occurred of anything that could interfere with the
regular discipline, or at all weaken the respect of the men towards their
superiors. Ours were masquerades without licentiousness—carnivals
without excess.
But an occupation not less assiduously pursued, and of infinitely more
eventual benefit, was furnished by the re-establishment of our schools,
under the voluntary superintendence of my friend Mr. Hooper in the
_Hecla_, and of Mr. Mogg in the _Fury_. By the judicious zeal of Mr.
Hooper, the _Hecla’s_ school was made subservient, not merely to the
improvement of the men in reading and writing (in which, however, their
progress was surprisingly great), but also to the cultivation of that
religious feeling which so essentially improves the character of a
seaman, by furnishing the highest motives for increased attention to
every other duty. Nor was the benefit confined to the eighteen or twenty
individuals whose want of scholarship brought them to the school-table,
but extended itself to the rest of the ship’s company, making the whole
lower-deck such a scene of quiet, rational occupation as I never before
witnessed on board a ship. And I do not speak lightly, when I express my
thorough persuasion that to the moral effects thus produced upon the
minds of the men were owing, in a very high degree, the constant yet
sober cheerfulness, the uninterrupted good order, and even, in some
measure, the extraordinary state of health which prevailed among us
during this winter.
Immediately after the ships were finally secured, we erected the
observatory on shore, and commenced our arrangements for the various
observations to which our attention was to be directed during the winter.
The interest of these, especially of such as related to magnetism,
increased so much as we proceeded, that the neighbourhood of the
observatory assumed ere long almost the appearance of a scattered
village, the number of detached houses, having various needles set up in
them, soon amounting to seven or eight.
The extreme facility with which sounds are heard at a considerable
distance in severely cold weather has often been a subject of remark; but
a circumstance occurred at Port Bowen which deserves to be noticed, as
affording a sort of measure of this facility, or at least conveying to
others some definite idea of the fact. Lieutenant Foster, having
occasion to send a man from the observatory to the opposite shore of the
harbour, a measured distance of 6696 feet, or about one statute mile and
two-tenths, in order to fix a meridian mark, had placed a second person
half-way between to repeat his directions; but he found, on trial, that
this precaution was unnecessary, as he could without difficulty keep up a
conversation with the man at the distant station. The thermometer was at
this time -18°, the barometer 30.14 inches, and the weather nearly calm,
and quite clear and serene.
The meteorological phenomena observed during this winter, like most of
its other occurrences, differed so little in character from those noticed
on the former voyages, as to render a separate description of each wholly
unnecessary.
This winter certainly afforded but few brilliant displays of the Aurora.
The following notice includes all that appear to me to require a separate
description.
Late on the night of the 21st of December the phenomenon appeared
partially, and with a variable light, in different parts of the southern
sky for several hours. At seven on the following morning it became more
brilliant and stationary, describing a well-defined arch, extending from
the E.S.E. horizon to that at W.N.W., and passing through the zenith. A
very faint arch was also visible on each side of this, appearing to
diverge from the same points in the horizon, and separating to twenty
degrees distance in the zenith. It remained thus for twenty minutes,
when the coruscations from each arch met, and after a short but brilliant
display of light, gradually died away. Early on the morning of the 15th
of January, 1825, the Aurora broke out to the southward, and continued
variable for three hours, between a N.W. and S.E. bearing. From three to
four o’clock the whole horizon, from south to west, was brilliantly
illuminated, the light being continuous almost throughout the whole
extent, and reaching several degrees in height. Very bright vertical
rays were constantly shooting upwards from the general mass. At
half-past five it again became so brilliant as to attract particular
notice, describing two arches passing in an east and west direction, very
near the zenith, with bright coruscations issuing from it; but the whole
gradually disappeared with the returning dawn. At dusk the same evening,
the Aurora again appeared in the southern quarter, and continued visible
nearly the whole night, but without any remarkable feature.
About midnight on the 27th of January, this phenomenon broke out in a
single compact mass of brilliant yellow light, situated about a S.E.
bearing, and appearing only a short distance above the land. This mass
of light, notwithstanding its general continuity, sometimes appeared to
be evidently composed of numerous pencils of rays, compressed, as it
were, laterally into one, its limits both to the right and left being
well defined and nearly vertical. The light, though very bright at all
times, varied almost constantly in intensity, and this had the appearance
(not an uncommon one in the Aurora) of being produced by one volume of
light overlaying another, just as we see the darkness and density of
smoke increased by cloud rolling over cloud. While Lieutenants Sherer
and Ross, and myself, were admiring the extreme beauty of this phenomenon
from the observatory, we all simultaneously uttered an exclamation of
surprise at seeing a bright ray of the Aurora shoot suddenly downward
from the general mass of light, and between us and the land, which was
there distant only three thousand yards. Had I witnessed this phenomenon
by myself, I should have been disposed to receive with caution the
evidence even of my own senses, as to this last fact; but the appearance
conveying precisely the same idea to three individuals at once, all
intently engaged in looking towards the spot, I have no doubt that the
ray of light actually passed within that distance of us.
About one o’clock on the morning of the 23rd of February, the Aurora
again appeared over the hills in a south direction, presenting a
brilliant mass of light, very similar to that just described. The
rolling motion of the light laterally was here also very striking, as
well as the increase of its intensity thus occasioned. The light
occupied horizontally about a point of the compass, and extended in
height scarcely a degree above the land, which seemed, however, to
conceal from us a part of the phenomenon. It was always evident enough
that the most attenuated light of the Aurora sensibly dimmed the stars,
like a thin veil drawn over them. We frequently listened for any sound
proceeding from this phenomenon, but never heard any. Our
variation-needles, which were extremely light, suspended in the most
delicate manner, and from the weak directive energy susceptible of being
acted upon by a very slight disturbing force, were never in a single
instance sensibly affected by the Aurora, which could scarcely fail to
have been observed at some time or other, had any such disturbance taken
place, the needles being visited every hour for several months, and
oftener, when anything occurred to make it desirable.
The meteors called Falling-stars were much more frequent during this
winter than we ever before saw them, and particularly during the month of
December. On the 8th, at a quarter past seven in the evening, a
particularly large and brilliant meteor of this kind fell in the S.S.W.,
the weather being very fine and clear overhead, but hazy near the
horizon. On the following day, between four and five P.M., another very
brilliant one was observed in the north, falling from an altitude of
about thirty-five degrees till lost behind the land; the weather was at
this time clear and serene, and no remarkable change took place. On the
12th, no less than five meteors of this kind were observed in a quarter
of an hour, and as these were attended with some remarkable
circumstances, I shall here give the account furnished me by Mr. Ross,
who with Mr. Bell observed these phenomena. “From seven to nine P.M. the
wind suddenly increased from a moderate breeze to a strong gale from the
southward. At ten it began to moderate a little; the haze, which had for
several hours obscured every star, gradually sinking towards the horizon,
and by eleven o’clock the whole atmosphere was extremely clear above the
altitude of five or six degrees. The thermometer also fell from -5° to
-9° as the haze cleared away. At a quarter past eleven my attention was
directed by Mr. Bell to some meteors which he observed, and in less than
a quarter of an hour five were seen. The two first, noticed only by Mr.
Bell, fell in quick succession, probably not more than two minutes apart.
The third appeared about eight minutes after these, and exceeded in
brilliancy any of the surrounding stars. It took a direction from near β
Tauri, and passing slowly towards the Pleiades, left behind it sparks
like the tail of a rocket, these being visible for a few seconds after
the meteor appeared to break, which it did close to the Pleiades. The
fourth meteor made its appearance very near the same place as the last,
and about five minutes after it. Taking the course of those seen by Mr.
Bell, it passed to the eastward, and disappeared half way between β Tauri
and Gemini. The fifth of these meteors was seen to the eastward, passing
through a space of about five degrees from north to south parallel to the
horizon, and moving along the upper part of the cloud of haze which still
extended to the altitude of five or six degrees. It was more dim than
the rest, and of a red colour like Aldebaran. The third of these meteors
was the only one that left a tail behind it, as above described. There
was a faint appearance of the Aurora to the westward near the horizon.
On the 14th of December several very bright meteors were observed to fall
between the hours of five and six in the evening, at which time the wind
freshened from the N.W. by N. in a very remarkable manner. On this
occasion, as well as on the 12th of December, there appeared to be an
evident coincidence between the occurrence of the meteors and the changes
of the weather at the time.
Particular attention was paid to the changes in the barometer during this
winter, to which much encouragement was given by the excellence of the
instruments with which we were now furnished. The times of register at
sea had been three and nine, A.M. and P.M.; those hours having been
recommended as the most proper for detecting any horary oscillations of
the mercurial column. When we were fixed for the winter, and our
attention could be more exclusively devoted to scientific objects, the
register was extended to four and ten, and subsequently to five and
eleven o’clock. The most rigid attention to the observation and
correction of the column, during several months, discovered an
oscillation amounting only to ten thousandth-parts of an inch. The times
of the maximum and minimum altitude appear, however, decidedly to lean to
four and ten o’clock, and to follow a law directly the reverse, as to
time, of that found to obtain in temperate climates, the column being
highest at four, and lowest at ten o’clock, both A.M. and P.M.
The barometer did not appear to indicate beforehand the changes of the
weather with any degree of certainty. Indeed the remark that we had
always before made, that alterations in the mercurial column more
frequently accompany than precede the visible changes of weather in these
regions, was equally true of our present experience; but on one or two
occasions hard gales of considerable duration occurred without the
barometer falling at all below the mean altitude of the column in these
regions, or even rose steadily during the continuance of the gale.
During one week of almost constant blowing weather, and two days of very
violent gales from the eastward, in the month of April, the barometer
remained considerably above thirty inches the whole time. It is
necessary for me here to remark that the unusual proportion of easterly
winds registered in our journals during this winter must, in my opinion,
be attributed to the local situation of our winter-quarters, which alone
appears to me sufficient to account for the anomaly. The lands on each
side of Port Bowen, running nearly east and west, and rising to a height
of six to nine hundred feet above the sea, with deep and broad ravines
intersecting the country in almost every direction, may be supposed to
have had considerable influence on the direction of the wind. In
confirmation of this supposition, indeed, it was usually noticed that the
easterly winds were with us attended with clear weather, while the
contrary obtained with almost every breeze from the west and north-west,
thus reversing in this respect also the usual order of things. It was
moreover observed that the clouds were frequently coming from the
north-west, when the wind in Port Bowen was easterly. I must, however,
except the gales we experienced from the eastward, which were probably
strong enough to overcome any local deflection to which a light breeze
would be subject; and indeed these were always accompanied with overcast
weather and a high thermometer. After the middle of October the gales of
wind were very few till towards the middle of April, when we experienced
more blowing weather than during the whole winter.