CRUISE OF THE “PANDORA.”
The Arctic Expedition of 1875-6—Its Advocates—The _Alert_ and
_Discovery_—Cruise of the _Pandora_—Curious Icebergs—The First
Bump with the Ice—Seal Meat as a Luxury—Ashore on a Floe—Coaling
at Ivigtut—The Kryolite Trade—Beauty of the Greenland Coast in
Summer—Festivities at Disco—The Belles of Greenland—A novel
Ball-room—The dreaded Melville Bay—Scene of Ruin at Northumberland
House—Devastation of the Bears—An Arctic Graveyard—Beset by the
Ice—An Interesting Discovery—Furthest Point attained—Return
Voyage—A Dreadful Night—The Phantom Cliff—Home again.
The Arctic expedition of 1875-6 has been the subject of very general
interest, and has led to much comment and some adverse criticism. With the
latter we have little or nothing to do. If a certain amount of
disappointment exists regarding the still undiscovered Pole, let the
reader remember that no Arctic expedition whatever has yet fulfilled all
the promises and hopes of its youth, and that our brave seamen _have_
taken our flag to a higher point than ever attained before. Britain is
again foremost, and the names of Nares and Markham stand worthily by the
side of Hall and Parry. The conditions under which they made their success
were, in some respects, of unparalleled difficulty and hardship.
The renewal of English enterprise in the direction of the Pole was not due
to sudden caprice, but was greatly stimulated by the generous rivalry of
other nations. Several members of the Royal Geographical Society,
prominent among whom were the late Admiral Sherard Osborne and Sir
Roderick I. Murchison, so long the president of the body, advocated it
with all their strength and might, while that noble-hearted lady, the late
Lady Franklin, took the deepest interest in its promotion.
Their representations had due effect on the Government; the necessary
votes were passed, and the expedition organised. The vessels employed were
probably as well adapted for Arctic navigation as any that have left our
shores for that purpose. The _Alert_ is a royal navy steam sloop of 751
tons and 100 horse-power, and was greatly strengthened for her intended
voyage. The commander of the expedition, Captain Nares, who had only just
been recalled from the memorable voyage of the _Challenger_, was a man of
considerable experience, and had been in Arctic service previously. With
him was associated Commander A. H. Markham, who had a considerable amount
of previous Arctic experience. The second vessel of the expedition, the
_Discovery_, had been a Dundee steam whaler, was purchased by the
Government, and put under the command of Captain H. F. Stephenson. The
total complement of officers and crews on the two vessels consisted of 120
men, the very pick of the navy and whaling marine, many of whom had served
in polar seas before. A store ship, the _Valorous_, accompanied them to
Greenland, and returned safely in time to enable Mr. Clements R. Markham,
a relative of Captain Markham’s, who had made a trip on her, to lay before
the British Association meeting at Bristol, on August 31st, the earliest
news from the expedition. On the voyage to Disco they had encountered
heavy weather; but on arrival there it was considered that it would prove
a favourable season for Arctic exploration. The _Valorous_, having
transferred the stores, &c., intended for the use of the Arctic ships, had
parted company on July 16th, leaving the expedition in good health and
excellent spirits.
[Illustration: THE ARCTIC STORE SHIP _VALOROUS_.]
For the present let us leave them to pursue their researches in the polar
regions while we speak of the expedition which followed close in their
wake, and, indeed, was partly intended to be the means of a last
communication with them. We refer to the interesting voyage of the
_Pandora_, which brought home very late news from them, and which,
considering the brief time in which it was made, deserves to be chronicled
as a most successful “dash” into the Arctic regions.
The _Pandora_ was bought from the Navy Department by Captain Allen Young,
and specially fitted out by him for Arctic navigation. This was no small
matter. Although built for a gunboat, she had to be considerably
strengthened. Heavy iron beams and knees were put in amidships, to
increase her resisting powers to a squeeze or “nip” in the ice; her hull
was enveloped in an outer casing of American elm four and a half inches
thick, to strengthen her sides; her bows were encased in solid iron. These
changes, while injuring her sailing qualities somewhat, enabled her to
work her way among ice, where an ordinary ship would be crushed like an
egg-shell. She was a small barque-rigged vessel, of 438 tons register,
with steam-power which could on emergencies be worked up to 200
horse-power. The crew and officers numbered thirty men, all told. She was
provisioned for eighteen months.
“The promoters of our expedition,” says Mr. J. A. MacGahan, who
accompanied it as correspondent of the _New York Herald_, and has since
collected his notes in a most interesting book,(14) “were Captain Allen
Young, on whom fell the principal burden and expense; Mr. James Gordon
Bennett, whom I had the honour to represent; Lieutenant Innes Lillingston,
R.N., who went as second in command; and the late Lady Franklin. She had
insisted on contributing to the expenses of the expedition, almost against
Captain Young’s wishes, who felt by no means confident of doing anything
that would entitle him to accept her willing contribution.” It will be
remembered that Captain Young had been navigating officer with the
memorable McClintock expedition in 1857-9, and that during that time he
had made many perilous sledge-journeys. A representative of the Dutch
royal navy, Lieutenant Beynen, accompanied them, and was sent out by his
Government to report on the expedition, and gain experience in Arctic
navigation. Probably, at some future time Holland may resume the thread of
Arctic exploration where it was dropped by Barentz, the old Dutch
navigator, 300 years ago.
On the morning of the 28th of July they arrived in sight of Cape Farewell,
and were surrounded on all sides by a field of floating ice. The horizon
was white with it, while near the ships great pieces, of every imaginable
shape and size, went drifting by in dangerous proximity. There were old
castles with broken ruined towers, battlements, and loopholes; castellated
fortresses; cathedrals with fantastic Gothic carving, and delicate
tracery, and triumphal arches. The narrator says that the animal and
vegetable kingdoms were represented by huge mushrooms with broad drooping
tops, supported on a single slender stem, and great masses of ice-foliage
that crowned groups of beautifully-carved columns, like immense
bread-fruit trees, covered with ice. There were swans with long slender
necks gracefully poised in the water; there were dragons, lions, eagles;
in short, almost every fantastic form that could be imagined, sparkling
and gleaming in the bright morning sun. In the path of the vessel great
flat pieces, or floes, presented themselves, and grew closer and thicker
together, with but very narrow channels of water between them. At last
they came to a place where there was no passage at all, unless they went
two or three miles out of their route.
Toms, the old gunner, who was out with Captain Young in the _Fox_, was on
the bridge conducting the vessel’s course, and instead of going around
they drove straight at the floe. What had been taken by some on board for
a solid field of ice was in reality two large floes joined together at one
spot, and thus forming a narrow isthmus only a few feet wide. It was this
isthmus that old Toms was going to charge. The wind in the course of the
morning had sprung up from the east, and they had it, consequently, on the
starboard quarter. The _Pandora_ was coming smoothly along under reefed
topsails, at the rate of about five knots. In a moment her prow plunged
into the ice with the force of a battering-ram. There was a loud crash;
the ship quivered and shook; the masts, with the sails pulling at them,
bent and creaked; the ice rolled up before her in great blocks, that fell
splashing in the water, and the _Pandora_ stopped quite still for the
moment, completely jammed. But it was for a moment only. Her sharp iron
prow had quite demolished the neck of ice, and it only remained to squeeze
herself between the floes into clear water beyond. She wriggled through
like an eel, and then shot gaily forward, as though eager for another
encounter.
“That was rather a hard bump, Toms, wasn’t it?” said somebody.
“Oh, bless you! that’s nothing,” replied the old sea-dog, with a smile.
“We’ll have harder ones nor that before we gets through the north-west
passage.” And so they did, as the narrative abundantly shows.
The seals, with their round smooth heads just barely above the surface,
are described as looking like plum-puddings floating in the water. As they
had been living on salt provisions for twenty days, a great longing for
fresh meat came over them. Seal’s liver with bacon is said to form an
excellent dish. On one occasion they had nearly killed a seal, when a man
was sent after it to finish the business. His weight, when he arrived on
the floe, broke the ice, and both fell in together. The seal was lost, but
happily the sailor was rescued. Later they were more successful. The
officers took to the seal-flesh most kindly, but the sailors were by far
too dainty to feed on such unusual food. It is a curious fact that men on
Arctic expeditions will often refuse to touch seal or walrus meat, as well
as preserved or tinned beef and mutton. The result is the scurvy, which
often enough proves fatal.
Captain Young, on the way up to Ivigtut, a little Danish settlement on the
west coast of Greenland, brought his vessel alongside a large floe on
which five seals were observed, apparently asleep. Thirty gun-barrels were
soon levelled on the hapless animals, which lay quite still as the ship
came up, apparently unconscious of their danger. As about two hundred
rounds were fired, and yet three of the seals got away, their bravado was
partially excusable. One of those killed was perfectly riddled with shot.
This animal takes a great deal of killing unless hit exactly in the brain.
Soon the ship was moored to the floe, and the officers and men were out to
secure their game. On this floating island of ice they found a little lake
of water, and having been on short allowance for some days, they hailed it
with delight. They took a long drink first of all, then a run over the
island and a good roll in the snow, as pleased as schoolboys out for a
holiday. After this the ship was watered, amid a great amount of fun and
frolic, everybody being so glad to stretch their legs. At Ivigtut the
officers went on shore to visit the few Danes of the colony while the
vessel was being coaled, and an amusing account is given of the
hospitality extended to them. The chronicler mentions very particularly an
insinuating drink called “banko,” which was ordinarily mingled with layers
of sherry, and sometimes claret and sherry. It had a mild, pleasant taste,
quite disproportionate to the powerful effects it produced. The governor
had entertained the officers of the _Tigress_ when she came here in search
of the crew of the _Polaris_, Captain Hall’s vessel, and they had also
drunk banko punch till some of them had been observed to stir it up with
their cigars for tea-spoons, and then to express astonishment at the
cigars appearing damp! It is at this settlement that the kryolite mines
are worked by a Danish company. The mineral is used for a variety of
purposes, but principally for making soda, and in the United States for
preparing aluminium. McClintock’s little steam yacht, the _Fox_, so
celebrated in Arctic history in connection with the Franklin search, is
now in the employ of this Company.
The Greenland coasts at this season are described as beautiful in the
extreme, a broken, serrated line of high, rugged mountains rising abruptly
out of the water to a height of 3,000 feet. Over these the sun and
atmosphere combine to produce the most fantastic effects of colour, while
ever and anon glimpses of that mighty sea of ice which has overwhelmed
Greenland are to be caught. Captain Young, in his progress up the coasts
was met by several kyacks—skin canoes—whose occupants had travelled, or
rather voyaged, fifteen miles at sea merely to barter their fish for
tobacco, biscuit, or coffee. “Imagine a man getting into a canoe and
paddling across the English Channel from Dover to Boulogne or Calais in
order to sell half-a-dozen trout!” They were thoroughly drenched with the
water dashing over them, but had very little in the kyacks, so closely
does the skin jacket they wear fit the round hole in the top of the canoe.
They were rewarded with a glass of rum, and sold about fifty-five pounds
of delicious fish for half a pound of tobacco and a couple of dozen small
sea biscuits.
[Illustration: DISCO.]
At Disco they were again warmly welcomed by the Danes; and if MacGahan has
not been carried away by the enthusiasm of the moment, the young ladies
must indeed be something delightful. He avers that their small hands and
feet would make an English or American girl die with envy, and that they
dance like sylphs. Of one he says, gushingly, “It was a pure delight to
watch her little feet flitting over the ground like butterflies, or
humming-birds, or rosebuds, or anything else that is delicate and sweet
and delightful. It was not dancing at all: it was flying; it was floating
through the air on a wave of rhythm, without even so much as touching
ground.” What more could be said after this? He states, however, that they
were all very well behaved. They allowed the men not even a kiss or a
squeeze of the hand, and knew as well how to maintain their dignity and
keep people at a proper distance as any other young ladies. They are all
good Christians and church-going people, belonging, as do all the
Esquimaux of Greenland, to some form of the Lutheran faith, to which they
have been converted by the mild and beneficent influence of the kindly
Danes.
[Illustration: ENTRANCE TO THE MUSIC HALL, DISCO.]
The ball-room in which their first entertainment was given was rather
small for forty or fifty people to dance in, being only twelve feet by
fifteen. It was also, perhaps, a little dark, being lighted by only one
small window, for as it was broad daylight at ten o’clock in the evening
at that period it was not thought worth while to bring in candles. The
ceiling was barely six feet high, and in fact the festive hall was no
other than the workshop of Disco’s lonely carpenter, which had been
cleaned out for the occasion. Over its “dore” the inscription shown in the
above illustration was found, intimating that it would “opn” at 8 o’clock.
[Illustration: EXPLORERS CROSSING “HUMMOCKS.”]
At Upernavik, the last Danish station at which the _Pandora_ stopped, and
that only long enough to obtain some dogs, they learned that the English
expedition had sailed thence on the 22nd of July. In north latitude 74°
they had a glimpse of the grandest of Greenland’s glaciers, which is
described as a great inclined plane, seventy or eighty miles long,
extending back to the interior in one vast icy slope. Immense as was this
field of ice, they knew that it was nothing but a small corner of the
great, lone, silent, dreary world beyond. Now they entered the dreaded
Melville Bay, which is in some years never free from ice. It is often only
towards the end of August that ships can get through it. Here, in the
middle of that month, the little steam yacht _Fox_, of McClintock’s
memorable expedition, was caught in the ice, carried down Baffin’s Bay and
Davis Straits, only to be freed 242 days afterwards by a miracle. The fact
of a bear swimming in the sea betokened that ice was not far off, and so
it proved. It was not, however, at first very formidable, consisting only
of thin, loose floes, that offered little resistance to the sharp prow of
the _Pandora_. On the evening of the 19th of August they were at the Carey
Islands, where a bootless search was made for a cairn of stones believed
to have been erected by Captain Nares. They found, however, two cairns
erected by a whaler in 1867, in one of which he had left half a bottle of
rum, which, having undergone eight successive freezings, had become as
mild as fine old Rhine wine. It is needless to say that the whaling
captain’s health was drunk therewith and forthwith. Two barrels of letters
for the _Alert_ and _Discovery_ were left there.
[Illustration: THE MONUMENT TO BELLOT.]
At Beechey Island, visited at different periods by (Sir John) Ross,
Belcher, and Franklin, they found the yacht _Mary_, left by the former in
1851, in good condition. Northumberland House, erected by Sir Edward
Belcher in 1854 as a depôt for stores, had evidently been broken into. The
ground outside was strewn with tins of preserved meats and vegetables,
forty-pound tins of pemmican, great rolls of heavy blue cloth, hundreds of
pairs of socks and mittens, bales of blankets and clothing, all scattered
over the ground in the most admired disorder. The ruin and destruction was
so great that the place resembled the scene of a disastrous railway
accident. Who were the marauders, these burglars that left their booty
behind them; these housebreakers that not merely broke into a house, but
spoiled nearly everything in it out of sheer wantonness? Evidently the
Polar bears. The marks of their claws were everywhere and on everything.
They had even gnawed into two or three barrels of salt beef, which they
had quite emptied, and it was their claws that had punched holes in the
heavy pemmican tins. Polar bears seem to be possessed of the very genius
of destruction. Near the house is the monument of Lieutenant Bellot, the
brave young French officer who lost his life when on the search for
Franklin. Here also is a marble slab, the tombstone of brave Sir John
himself. Both monuments were sent out in the _Fox_, at the expense of Lady
Franklin. Three miles farther up the bay the graves of five seamen, of the
crews of the _Erebus_, _Terror_, and _North Star_, were also found. “This
Arctic graveyard is situated on a gravelly slope, which rises up from the
little bay towards the foot of a high bluff, that frowns down upon it as
though resenting the intrusion of human dead in this lonely world. Sad
enough looked the poor head-boards as the low-sinking sun threw its yellow
rays athwart them, casting long shadows over the shingly slope; silent,
sad, and mournful as everything else in this dreary Arctic world.”
On the evening of August 27th they arrived at the entrance of Peel Strait,
where a heavy pack of ice was encountered, so dense that it was hopeless
to attempt a passage. A little later and it became evident that they were
hourly in danger of being beset, and, once beset, imprisoned for the
winter, and perhaps for more than one, without a harbour, with no
opportunity of accomplishing anything. Neither were they provisioned for a
length of time sufficient to run the risk of stopping in that
neighbourhood.
On the shores of North Somerset they made an interesting discovery. The
_Pandora_ had attained the furthest point reached by Ross and McClintock
when coming down the coast on foot from the north in 1849, at which time
they had built a cairn, and left a record addressed to Sir John Franklin,
stating that they had been despatched for his succour. Poor Franklin never
found it, but it was reserved for Captain Young to receive it twenty-eight
years later. Ross had at that time been within two hundred miles of the
spot where the wrecks of Franklin’s vessels had been abandoned.
The _Pandora_ at length succeeded in reaching La Roquette Island, and the
expedition had, therefore, in a very brief space of time, attained a
position only 120 miles from Franklin’s farthest point. Success had
crowned their efforts so far. All on board were sanguine that they would
ere long be basking in the warmth of a Californian autumn, and enjoying
the good things of San Francisco. It was fated otherwise. They found an
unbroken ice-field before them, extending for, so far as they could judge,
an indefinite distance. They cruised about the island for three days, but
matters only grew worse, and, indeed, the ice was moving slowly towards
them. Reluctantly Captain Young decided to give up his attempt at a
north-west passage, and return to England. On the way out of Peel Strait,
with squalls, snow, and darkness, they had a most difficult task in
handling the vessel, having to run races with the driving ice-packs so as
to avoid being shut in. The ice-pack at Cape Rennel prevented a passage
round it. Suddenly, a snowstorm which had been beating down upon them for
the whole night, abated, and disclosed high precipitous cliffs hanging
almost over them as it seemed, and “presenting,” says Captain Young in his
“Journal,” “a most ghostly appearance, the horizontal strata seeming like
the huge bars of some gigantic iron cage, and standing out from the snow
face. In fact, it was the skeleton of a cliff, and we appeared to be in
its very grasp. For a few minutes only we saw this apparition, and then
all was again darkness.” They barely had room to pass between this cliff
and the ice-pack, and then hastily ranged about, seeking some escape.
After three hours of intense anxiety, a slight movement in the pack was
reported from aloft, indicating a weak place in it, and through this gap
the vessel at length forced her way. On September 10th they passed through
a terrible gale; the heavy seas froze as they fell on the vessel’s sides,
and the _Pandora_ became “one huge icicle.” On reaching the Carey Islands
they found, at a different spot to that previously visited, a cairn,
erected by Captain Nares, from which they obtained a tin tube addressed to
the Admiralty. The _Pandora_ reached Portsmouth safely on October 16th,
1865, her cruise having been, all in all, one of the most successful of
any made in the Arctic seas in a period of time so short.