THE SECOND GERMAN EXPEDITION.
The First German Expedition—Preparations for a Second—Building of
the _Germania_—The _Hansa_—The Emperor William’s Interest in the
Voyage—The Scientific Corps—Departure from Bremerhaven—Neptune at
the Arctic Circle—The Vessels Separated among the Ice—Sport with
Polar Bears—Wedged in by the Grinding Ice—Preparations to Winter
on the Floe—The _Hansa_ lifted Seventeen Feet out of the Water—A
Doomed Vessel—Wreck of the _Hansa_.
On the 24th of October, 1868, a number of gentlemen were assembled round a
festive board in Bremen to celebrate the happy return of the first German
expedition, under Captain Karl Koldewey. Among the guests was Dr. A.
Petermann, the eminent geographer, to whose exertions in great part the
inauguration of the expedition had been due. Its object had been to reach
as near the North Pole as might be, the route selected being that between
Greenland and Spitzbergen. Baffled by an icy barrier off the South Cape of
Spitzbergen, at which time a terrific storm was raging, he had steered to
the eastward, passing among clusters of icebergs, some of which were
taller than his vessel’s masts. After passing safely through many perils,
he returned to the South Cape, and coasted Spitzbergen to the north-west;
later he had endeavoured to make the ice-girt shores of East Greenland,
but not succeeding, again returned to Spitzbergen, and after sundry
explorations, turned his vessel’s head towards home.
It was at the banquet above-mentioned that expression was first given to
the idea of a second expedition to the inhospitable regions of the far
North. There had been some slight surplus of funds left from the first
expedition, and it was determined to make an appeal to German liberality
to complete a sum sufficient to build a steamer specially adapted for
Arctic waters. Committees were formed in Berlin, Munich, Bremen, Hamburg,
and numerous other cities, and the result in the end was very
satisfactory. The _Germania_, a steamer of 143 tons burden, was laid on
the stocks at Bremerhaven on March 10th, 1869, and thirty-six days
afterwards was launched. She was about the average size of a Brazilian or
West Indian fruit or coffee schooner, ninety feet long, twenty-two and a
half feet broad, and eleven feet deep. Although, therefore, an extremely
small steamer, she had been built in the strongest manner, with extra
beams, thick iron sheathing, and every other improvement which might
render her comparatively safe in the ice. Her sharp build proved
subsequently of great advantage to her when sailing. Including the
machinery and ship’s fittings, the _Germania_ cost £3,150. A second
vessel, the purchase-money for which had been guaranteed by some Bremen
merchants, although eventually the subscriptions released them, was a
Prussian schooner of 76¾ tons burden, which was re-christened the _Hansa_,
and was meant to be, in some sense, a tender to the _Germania_, although
fate eventually decreed otherwise. Great care was taken with the
victualling and equipment of the ships; but little salt or dried meat was
taken. Many presents of “the good Rhine wine” and other luxuries, as well
as books, instruments, and other kindly remembrances, came in from friends
of the expedition.
The officers and scientific members of the expedition counted among their
number several men who had previously or have since become famous. The
commander of the whole was Captain Koldewey, a Hanoverian, who had long
been a sailor, and who, to fit himself for his new duties, temporarily
gave up his profession, in the winters of 1867-8 and 1868-9, to study
physics and astronomy at the University of Gottingen. With him were
associated Dr. Karl N. J. Borgen, and Dr. R. Copeland, an Englishman, who
were conjointly to take scientific observations, &c.; also Julius Payer, a
lieutenant in the Imperial Austrian army, on leave. The latter, in
particular, joined the expedition with a considerable amount of prestige,
derived from an active life spent in the cause of science. Although only
twenty-seven years old, he had made and recorded many expeditions in the
Alps, and in the mountainous districts of Austria. He had also taken an
active part in 1866 in the Italian war. Lastly, to Dr. Adolphus Pansch,
surgeon of the _Germania_, were assigned the departments of zoology,
botany, and ethnology. Nearly all of the above had earned their laurels in
the scientific literature of Germany. The captain of the _Hansa_ was Paul
Friedrich August Hegemann, an experienced navigator; with him were
associated two scientific gentlemen, Dr. Bucholz and Dr. Gustavus Laube.
On May 28th, 1869, Captain Koldewey had an audience of his Majesty King
William, at Babelsberg, who expressed his gratification at having secured
the services of a leader so energetic. The departure of the expedition
took place from Bremerhaven on the 15th of June following, in the presence
of the King, his Royal Highness the Grand Duke of Mecklenburg Schwerin,
Count (now Prince) Bismarck, General von Moltke, and other distinguished
men. The King heartily shook the hands of the commander and his scientific
corps, and inspected the vessels with much satisfaction. The parting
moment at length arrived, and amid the salutes of artillery and hearty
cheers from the crowds ashore, the vessels made for the mouth of the
Weser, and put to sea.
The first part of the voyage was not specially eventful. The vessels
several times parted company, but rejoined afterwards. The dense fogs
which infest those latitudes were the cause of much anxiety on the part of
the commanders. On July the 4th Dr. Copeland shot a gull, which fell in
the sea, and was nearly the cause of a serious disaster. A sailor, without
undressing, jumped overboard after it, and the vessel sailing rapidly was
soon a considerable distance from him. He was almost on the point of
sinking, when a boat, which had been hastily launched, reached him, and he
was drawn out of the water. “Like a drowned poodle,” says the narrative,
“the sinner stood once more amongst us, receiving as a reward a sound
lecture from the captain, followed by a good draught of brandy.” On July
the 5th they passed the Arctic circle (66° 33’), the _Hansa_ being the
first in the race, and the first to unfurl the North German flag.
“Conformably to the custom,” says Koldewey, “as on crossing the equator,
Neptune came on board to welcome us, and wish us success on our voyage; of
course not without all those who had not yet crossed the Arctic circle
having to undergo the rather rough shaving and christening customary on
such occasions.... Universal grog and good fellowship on board both ships
brought the ceremony to a close.”
After a separation of many days the vessels again joined on July 18th. A
prize of a bottle of wine had been offered on board the _Germania_ to the
individual who should first sight the _Hansa_. Soon after breakfast on
that day a sail is discovered from the topmast. It is a schooner, and as
the whale fishers do not use such craft it must be the _Hansa_! A little
later, and by getting up steam on board the larger vessel, they rejoined,
and the officers met and compared notes. They parted that evening full of
confident hopes for the future. Little did they think that the vessels
would never meet again, and that although as comrades they _would_ meet, a
fourteen months’ interval must elapse! By the misunderstanding of a signal
the _Hansa_ set all sail and parted company when off the east coast of
Greenland in lat. 70° 46’ N., long. 10° 51’ W., and soon became entangled
in the ice, while they looked in vain from the “crow’s nest” for an
opening. We shall now follow the fortunes of the _Hansa_.
That vessel was soon inextricably wedged in the ice. The coast of East
Greenland was often in sight, and several unsuccessful attempts were made
to reach it. During this period they had some sport with the polar bears.
On September 12th a she bear and cub approached the vessel, the former
being speedily shot. The young one was caught, escaped again, and at last
was brought back swimming, and was chained to the ice-anchor. It was very
much frightened, but nevertheless devoured its mother’s flesh when it was
thrown to it. The men built it a snow house, and offered it a couch of
shavings, but young Bruin, as a genuine inhabitant of the Arctic seas,
despised such luxuries, and made its bed in the snow. Some days later it
had disappeared, together with the chain, which must have become loosened
from the anchor. From the weight of the iron alone the poor creature must
soon have sunk. Other Arctic guests visited the _Hansa_. With a brisk wind
came two white foxes from the coast, a certain proof that the ice must
extend thither.
[Illustration: A YOUNG BEAR CHAINED TO AN ANCHOR.]
Towards the end of September the necessity of wintering on the floating
ice off the coast was decided upon, and they resolved on the erection of a
winter house. Bricks were ready in the shape of “coal-tiles,” while water
or snow was to form the mortar. Before anything else was done, the boats
were cleaned out, covered with a roofing, and provisions placed ready for
them in case of emergency. Captain Hegemann sketched the plan for the
building, which was to have an area of 20 × 14 feet, with low roof.
Wall-building has to be given up in frosty weather on land, not so on the
ice. Finely-powdered snow was strewn between the interstices, and water
poured upon it, which in ten minutes became solid ice-mortar. The roof was
at first composed of sail-cloth and matting. Meantime the ice was grinding
and surging around them, and threatening to crush the vessel at any
moment. Underneath the ice-field it groaned and cracked, “now sounding
like the banging of doors, now like many human voices raised one against
the other, and lastly like the drag on the wheel of a railway engine.” The
apparent cause was that the drifting ice was pressing in upon the fixed
coast ice. Meantime the _Hansa_ quivered in every beam, and the masts
swayed to and fro. Provisions and stores were moved to the house in case
of sudden disaster.
[Illustration: THE HOUSE OF THE _HANSA_ ON THE ICE.]
On the morning of the 19th a NNW. gale with snow-storm foreboded mischief.
The air was gloomy and thick, and the coast four miles off could not be
seen. The ice came pressing upon the vessel, and before noon the position
became serious. The piled-up masses of “young ice,” four feet thick,
pressed heavily on the outer side, and the vessel became tilted upwards at
the bows. The men took their meals on deck, not knowing what might happen
next. “Soon,” says the narrator, “some mighty blocks of ice pushed
themselves under the bow of the vessel, and although they were crushed by
it, they forced it up, slowly at first, then quicker, until it was raised
seventeen feet out of its former position upon the ice. This movement we
tried to ease as much as possible by shovelling away the ice and snow from
the larboard side. The rising of the ship was an extraordinary and awful,
yet splendid spectacle, of which the whole crew were witnesses from the
ice. In all haste the clothing, nautical instruments, journals and cards
[the translator means charts] were taken over the landing-bridge. The
after part of the ship, unfortunately, would not rise, and therefore the
stern-post had to bear the most frightful pressure, and the conviction
that the ship must soon break up forced itself upon our minds.” At the end
of the afternoon the ice retreated, and the vessel was once more again in
her native element. The pumps were set to work, and it was soon made clear
that all their exertions would not save the schooner, for the water
steadily gained upon them. The fate of the _Hansa_ was sealed, and the
coal-house on the ice was destined to be their only refuge, may-be their
grave.
The work of removing everything available went on steadily. A snow-storm
had raged during the day, but it cleared in the evening; the moon shed her
cold light over the dreary ice-fields, and ever and anon the Northern
lights flashed over them in many changing colours. The men, whether at the
pumps, or engaged in removing the stores, had a hard time of it. The decks
were thick with ice, and those at the pumps stood in tubs to keep dry and
warm. Night allowed the crew some few hours of welcome rest, and at early
dawn all set to work again. “But the catastrophe was near; at 8 A.M. the
men who were busy in the fore-peak, getting out firewood, came with
anxious faces, with the news that the wood was already floating below.
When the captain had ascertained the truth of this intelligence, he
ordered the pumping to cease. It was evident that the ship was sinking,
and that it must be abandoned.
“The first thing to be done was to bring all necessary and useful things
from the ’tween decks on to the ice—bedding, clothing, more provisions,
and coal. Silently were all the heavy chests and barrels pushed over the
hatchway. First comes the weighty iron galley, then the two stoves are
happily hoisted over; their possession ensures us the enjoyment of warm
food, the heating of our coal-house, and other matters indispensable for a
wintering on the floe. At three o’clock the water in the cabin had reached
the table, and all movable articles were floating. The fear that we should
not have enough fuel made us grasp at every loose piece of wood and throw
it on to the ice. The sinking of the vessel was now almost imperceptible;
it must have found support on a tongue of ice or some promontory of our
field. There was still a small medicine-chest and a few other things
which, in our future position, would be great treasures—such as the
cabin-lamp, books, cigars, boxes of games, &c. The snow-roof, too, and the
sails were brought on to the ice; but still all necessary work was not yet
accomplished. Round about the ship lay a chaotic mass of heterogeneous
articles, and groups of feeble rats struggling with death, and trembling
with the cold! All articles, for greater safety, must be conveyed over a
fissure to about thirty paces farther inland. The galley we at once took
on a sledge to the house, as we should want it to give us warm coffee in
the evening. We then looked after the sailor Max Schmidt, who was
suffering from frost-bite, and brought him on planks under the fur
covering to the coal-house. By 9 A.M. all were in the new asylum, which
was lit by the cabin-lamp, and looked like a dreary tomb. Pleased with the
completion of our heavy day’s work, though full of trouble for the future,
we prepared our couch. A number of planks were laid upon the ground, and
sail-cloth spread over them. Upon these we lay down, rolled in our furs. A
man remained to watch the stove, as the temperature in the room had risen
from 2° Fahr. to 27½° Fahr. It was a hard, cold bed; but sleep soon fell
upon our weary, over-worked limbs. On the morning of the 21st we went
again to the ship to get more fuel. The coal-hole was, however, under
water. We therefore chopped down the masts, and hauled them with the whole
of the tackle on to the ice—a work which took us nearly the whole day. At
eleven the foremast fell, at three the mainmast followed; and now the
_Hansa_ really looked a complete, comfortless wreck. For the last time the
captain and steersman went on deck, and about six o’clock loosed the
ropes, which, by means of the ice-anchor held the ship to the field, as we
feared that our floe, which bore all our treasures, might break.” The
scientific collections and photographs had to be utterly abandoned. On the
night of the 21st and 22nd the wreck sank, about six miles from the coast
of Greenland. The jolly-boat, which stood loose on deck, floated, and was
drawn on the ice.