We kept our course southwardly for four days after giving up the search
for Glass's Islands, without meeting with any ice at all. On the
twenty-sixth, at noon, we were in latitude 63° 23' S., longitude 41°
25' W. We now saw several large ice islands, and a floe of field ice,
not, however, of any great extent. The winds generally blew from the
southeast, or the northeast, but were very light. Whenever we had a
westerly wind, which was seldom, it was invariably attended with a rain
squall. Every day we had more or less snow. The thermometer, on the
twenty-seventh, stood at thirty-five.
_January 1, 1828._ This day we found ourselves completely hemmed in by
the ice, and our prospects looked cheerless indeed. A strong gale blew,
during the whole forenoon, from the northeast, and drove large cakes of
the drift against the rudder and counter with such violence that we all
trembled for the consequences. Towards evening, the gale still blowing
with fury, a large field in front separated, and we were enabled, by
carrying a press of sail, to force a passage through the smaller flakes
into some open water beyond. As we approached this space we took in
sail by degrees, and having at length got clear, lay to under a single
reefed foresail.
_January 2._ We had now tolerably pleasant weather. At noon we found
ourselves in latitude 69° 10' S., longitude 42° 20' W., having crossed
the Antarctic circle. Very little ice was to be seen to the southward,
although large fields of it lay behind us. This day we rigged some
sounding gear, using a large iron pot capable of holding twenty
gallons, and a line of two hundred fathoms. We found the current
setting to the north, about a quarter of a mile per hour. The
temperature of the air was now about thirty-three. Here we found the
variation to be 14° 28' easterly, per azimuth.
_January 5._ We had still held on to the southward without any very
great impediments. On this morning, however, being in latitude 73° 15'
E., longitude 42° 10' W., we were again brought to a stand by an
immense expanse of firm ice. We saw, nevertheless, much open water to
the southward, and felt no doubt of being able to reach it eventually.
Standing to the eastward along the edge of the floe, we at length came
to a passage of about a mile in width, through which we warped our way
by sundown. The sea in which we now were was thickly covered with ice
islands, but had no field ice, and we pushed on boldly as before. The
cold did not seem to increase, although we had snow very frequently,
and now and then hail squalls of great violence. Immense flocks of the
albatross flew over the schooner this day, going from southeast to
northwest.
_January 7._ The sea still remained pretty well open, so that we had no
difficulty in holding on our course. To the westward we saw some
icebergs of incredible size, and in the afternoon passed very near one
whose summit could not have been less than four hundred fathoms from
the surface of the ocean. Its girth was probably, at the base, three
quarters of a league, and several streams of water were running from
crevices in its sides. We remained in sight of this island two days,
and then only lost it in a fog.
_January 10._ Early this morning we had the misfortune to lose a man
overboard. He was an American, named Peter Vredenburgh, a native of
New-York, and was one of the most valuable hands on board the schooner.
In going over the bows his foot slipped, and he fell between two cakes
of ice, never rising again. At noon of this day we were in latitude 78°
30', longitude 40° 15' W. The cold was now excessive, and we had hail
squalls continually from the northward and eastward. In this direction
also we saw several more immense icebergs, and the whole horizon to the
eastward appeared to be blocked up with field ice, rising in tiers, one
mass above the other. Some driftwood floated by during the evening, and
a great quantity of birds flew over, among which were Nellies,
peterels, albatrosses, and a large bird of a brilliant blue plumage.
The variation here, per azimuth, was less than it had been previously
to our passing the Antarctic circle.
_January 12._ Our passage to the south again looked doubtful, as
nothing was to be seen in the direction of the pole but one apparently
limitless floe, backed by absolute mountains of ragged ice, one
precipice of which arose frowningly above the other. We stood to the
westward until the fourteenth, in the hope of finding an entrance.
_January 14._ This morning we reached the western extremity of the
field which had impeded us, and, weathering it, came to an open sea,
without a particle of ice. Upon sounding with two hundred fathoms, we
here found a current setting southwardly at the rate of half a mile per
hour. The temperature of the air was forty-seven, that of the water
thirty-four. We now sailed to the southward, without meeting any
interruption of moment until the sixteenth, when, at noon, we were in
latitude 81° 21', longitude 42° W. We here again sounded, and found a
current setting still southwardly, and at the rate of three quarters of
a mile per hour. The variation per azimuth had diminished, and the
temperature of the air was mild and pleasant, the thermometer being as
high as fifty-one. At this period not a particle of ice was to be
discovered. All hands on board now felt certain of attaining the pole.
_January 17._ This day was full of incident. Innumerable flights of
birds flew over us from the southward, and several were shot from the
deck; one of them, a species of pelican, proved to be excellent eating.
About midday a small floe of ice was seen from the masthead off the
larboard bow, and upon it there appeared to be some large animal. As
the weather was good and nearly calm, Captain Guy ordered out two of
the boats to see what it was. Dirk Peters and myself accompanied the
mate in the larger boat. Upon coming up with the floe, we perceived
that it was in the possession of a gigantic creature of the race of the
Arctic bear, but far exceeding in size the largest of these animals.
Being well armed, we made no scruple of attacking it at once. Several
shots were fired in quick succession, the most of which took effect,
apparently, in the head and body. Nothing discouraged, however, the
monster threw himself from the ice, and swam, with open jaws, to the
boat in which were Peters and myself. Owing to the confusion which
ensued among us at this unexpected turn of the adventure, no person was
ready immediately with a second shot, and the bear had actually
succeeded in getting half his vast bulk across our gunwale, and seizing
one of the men by the small of his back, before any efficient means
were taken to repel him. In this extremity nothing but the promptness
and agility of Peters saved us from destruction. Leaping upon the back
of the huge beast, he plunged the blade of a knife behind the neck,
reaching the spinal marrow at a blow. The brute tumbled into the sea
lifeless, and without a struggle, rolling over Peters as he fell. The
latter soon recovered himself, and a rope being thrown him, he secured
the carcass before entering the boat. We then returned in triumph to
the schooner, towing our trophy behind us. This bear, upon
admeasurement, proved to be full fifteen feet in his greatest length.
His wool was perfectly white, and very coarse, curling tightly. The
eyes were of a blood red, and larger than those of the Arctic bear--the
snout also more rounded, rather resembling the snout of the bulldog.
The meat was tender, but excessively rank and fishy, although the men
devoured it with avidity, and declared it excellent eating.
Scarcely had we got our prize alongside, when the man at the masthead
gave the joyful shout of _"land on the starboard bow!"_ All hands were
now upon the alert, and, a breeze springing up very opportunely from
the northward and eastward, we were soon close in with the coast. It
proved to be a low rocky islet, of about a league in circumference, and
altogether destitute of vegetation, if we except a species of prickly
pear. In approaching it from the northward, a singular ledge of rock is
seen projecting into the sea, and bearing a strong resemblance to
corded bales of cotton. Around this ledge to the westward is a small
bay, at the bottom of which our boats effected a convenient landing.
It did not take us long to explore every portion of the island, but,
with one exception, we found nothing worthy of observation. In the
southern extremity, we picked up near the shore, half buried in a pile
of loose stones, a piece of wood, which seemed to have formed the prow
of a canoe. There had been evidently some attempt at carving upon it,
and Captain Guy fancied that he made out the figure of a tortoise, but
the resemblance did not strike me very forcibly. Besides this prow, if
such it were, we found no other token that any living creature had ever
been here before. Around the coast we discovered occasional small floes
of ice--but these were very few. The exact situation of this islet (to
which Captain Guy gave the name of Bennet's Islet, in honour of his
partner in the ownership of the schooner) is 82° 50' S. latitude, 42°
20' W. longitude.
We had now advanced to the southward more than eight degrees farther
than any previous navigators, and the sea still lay perfectly open
before us. We found, too, that the variation uniformly decreased as we
proceeded, and, what was still more surprising, that the temperature of
the air, and latterly of the water, became milder. The weather might
even be called pleasant, and we had a steady but very gentle breeze
always from some northern point of the compass. The sky was usually
clear, with now and then a slight appearance of thin vapour in the
southern horizon--this, however, was invariably of brief duration. Two
difficulties alone presented themselves to our view; we were getting
short of fuel, and symptoms of scurvy had occurred among several of the
crew. These considerations began to impress upon Captain Guy the
necessity of returning, and he spoke of it frequently. For my own part,
confident as I was of soon arriving at land of some description upon
the course we were pursuing, and having every reason to believe, from
present appearances, that we should not find it the steril soil met
with in the higher Arctic latitudes, I warmly pressed upon him the
expediency of persevering, at least for a few days longer, in the
direction we were now holding. So tempting an opportunity of solving
the great problem in regard to an Antarctic continent had never yet
been afforded to man, and I confess that I felt myself bursting with
indignation at the timid and ill-timed suggestions of our commander. I
believe, indeed, that what I could not refrain from saying to him on
this head had the effect of inducing him to push on. While, therefore,
I cannot but lament the most unfortunate and bloody events which
immediately arose from my advice, I must still be allowed to feel some
degree of gratification at having been instrumental, however remotely,
in opening to the eye of science one of the most intensely exciting
secrets which has ever engrossed its attention.