NOVA ZEMBLA.
The Sea of Kara.--Loschkin.--Rosmysslow.--Lütke.--Krotow.--
Pachtussow.--Sails along the eastern Coast of the Southern
Island to Matoschkin Schar.--His second Voyage and Death.--
Meteorological Observations of Ziwolka.--The cold Summer of Nova
Zembla.--Von Baer’s scientific Voyage to Nova Zembla.--His
Adventures in Matoschkin Schar.--Storm in Kostin Schar.--Sea Bath
and votive Cross.--Botanical Observations.--A natural Garden.--
Solitude and Silence.--A Bird Bazar.--Hunting Expeditions of the
Russians to Nova Zembla.
The sea of Kara, bounded on the west by Nova Zembla, and on the east
by the vast peninsula of Tajmurland, is one of the most inhospitable
parts of the inhospitable Polar Ocean. For all the ice which the
east-westerly marine currents drift during the summer along the
Siberian coasts accumulates in that immense land-locked bay, and almost
constantly blocks the gate of Kara, as the straits have been named that
separate Nova Zembla from the island of Waigatz.
The rivers Jenissei and Obi, which remain frozen over until late in
June, likewise discharge their vast masses of ice into the gulf of
Kara, so that we can not wonder that the eastern coast of Nova Zembla,
fronting a sea which opposes almost insuperable obstacles to the Arctic
navigator, has remained almost totally unknown until 1833, while the
western coast, exposed to the Gulf Stream, and bathed, in summer at
least, by a vast open ocean, has long been traced in all its chief
outlines on the map.
The walrus-hunter Loschkin is indeed said to have sailed along the
whole eastern coast of Nova Zembla in the last century, but we have
no authentic records of his voyage, and at a later period Rosmysslow,
who, penetrating through Mathew’s Straits, or Matoschkin Schar, found
Nova Zembla to consist of two large islands, investigated but a small
part of those unknown shores. From 1819 to 1824 the Russian Government
sent out no less than five expeditions to the sea of Kara; the famous
circumnavigator Admiral Lütke endeavored no less than four times to
advance along the eastern coast of Nova Zembla, but all these efforts
proved fruitless against the superior power of a stormy and ice-blocked
sea. Yet in spite of these repeated failures, two enterprising
men--Klokow, a chief inspector of forests, and Brandt, a rich merchant
of Archangel--fitted out three ships in 1832 for the purpose of solving
the mysteries of the sea of Kara.
One of these vessels, commanded by Lieutenant Krotow, was to penetrate
through Mathew’s Straits, and, having reached their eastern outlet, to
sail thence across the sea to the mouth of the Obi and the Jenissei;
but nothing more was heard of the ill-fated ship after her first
separation from her companions at Kanin Nos.
The second ship, which was to sail along the western coast of Nova
Zembla, and, if possible, to round its northern extremity, was more
fortunate, for though it never reached that point, it returned home
with a rich cargo of walrus-teeth.
The third ship, finally, under Pachtussow’s command, was to penetrate
through the gate of Kara, and from thence to proceed along the eastern
coast. When Pachtussow, according to his instructions, had reached the
straits, all his efforts to effect a passage proved ineffectual. It was
in vain he more than once steered to the east; the stormy weather and
large masses of drift ice constantly threw him back, the short summer
approached its end, and thus he was obliged to put off all further
attempts to the next year, and to settle for the winter in Rocky Bay
within the gate of Kara. A small hut was built out of the drift-wood
found on the spot, and joined by means of a gallery of sail-cloth to
a bathing-room, that indispensable comfort of a Russian. The laying
of traps, in which many Arctic foxes were caught, and the carrying of
the wood, which had sometimes to be fetched from a distance of ten
versts, occupied the crew during fair weather. In April a party under
Pachtussow’s command set out for the purpose of exploring the western
coast. On this expedition they were overtaken on the twenty-fourth
day of the month by a terrible snowstorm, which obliged them to throw
themselves flat upon the ground to avoid being swept away by the
wind. They remained three days without food under the snow, as it was
impossible for them to reach the dépôt of provisions buried a few
versts off.
On June 24 the gate of Kara was at length open, and Pachtussow would
gladly have sailed through the passage, but his ship was fast in the
ice. He therefore resolved, in order to make the best use of his time,
to examine the eastern coast in a boat, and reached in this manner the
small Sawina River, where he found a wooden cross with the date of
1742. Most likely it had been placed there by Loschkin, his predecessor
on the path of discovery. He now returned with his boat to the ship,
which, after an imprisonment of 297 days, was at length, July 11, able
to leave the bay.
On Stadolski Island, near Cape Menschikoff, they found a wretched hut,
which proved that they were not the first to penetrate into these
deserts. But the hut was tenantless, and a number of human bones were
strewn over the ground. One of Pachtussow’s companions now related that
in 1822 a Samojede, named Mawei, had gone with his wife and children
to Nova Zembla, and had never returned. On gathering the bones, they
were found to compose the skeletons of two children and of a woman, but
no remains could be discovered of the man. Most likely the unfortunate
savage had been surprised by a snowstorm, or had fallen a prey to a
hungry ice-bear, on one of his excursions, and his family, deprived of
their support, had died of hunger in the hut.
On July 19 they reached the river Stawinen, and on the 21st Lütke’s
Bay, where a number of white dolphins and seals of an unknown species
were found. Here contrary winds arrested the progress of the navigators
during eighteen days. On August 13 Pachtussow entered Matoschkin Schar,
and reached its western mouth on the 19th. Thus he succeeded at least
in circumnavigating the southern island, which no one had achieved
before him, and as his exhausted provisions did not allow him to spend
a second winter in Nova Zembla, he resolved to return at once to
Archangel. But contrary winds drove him to the island of Kolgujew, and
thence to the mouth of the Petschora, where, on September 3, a dreadful
storm at length shattered his crazy vessel. The crew found refuge in a
hut, but this also was filled by the water; so that they had to wade
several versts before they could reach the dry land.
Pachtussow now travelled by way of Archangel and Onega to St.
Petersburg, where he communicated the results of his journey to the
Minister of Marine, who gave him a most flattering reception, well
merited by his ability and courage. The success he had already obtained
encouraged the hope that a second expedition would be able to complete
the undertaking, and consequently, by an imperial order, the schooner
Krotow and a transport were fitted out, with which Pachtussow once more
sailed from the port of Archangel on August 5. His instructions were
to winter in Mathew’s Straits, and thence to attempt in the following
summer the exploration of the eastern coast of the northern island.
The winter hut he built at the western entrance of the straits was
ready for his reception by October 20. It was of stately dimensions,
for a Nova Zembla residence--25 feet long, 21 broad, 8 feet high in
the centre, 5 at the sides, and consisted of two compartments, one
for the officers and the other for the crew. They found the cold very
endurable, but were rather incommoded by the smoke, which did not
always find a ready passage through the opening in the roof. Sometimes
the snow accumulated in such masses, or the storm raged so furiously
round the hut, that they could not leave it for eight days running, and
frequently the hole in the roof had to serve them for a door.
Eleven white bears were killed about the hut during the winter; one
on the roof, another in the passage. Pachtussow, well aware that
occupation is the best remedy against melancholy, kept his crew in
constant activity. They were obliged to fetch wood from distances of
ten or eleven versts, not seldom during a cold of -36°, which, thanks
to their thick fur dresses, they bore remarkably well, particularly as
a temperature lower than -25° never occurred, unless during perfectly
calm weather. He also made them lay fox-traps at considerable distances
from the hut, and amused them with shooting at a mark and gymnastic
exercises. By this means he succeeded in preserving their health, and
warding off the attacks of the scurvy.
As early as April the indefatigable Pachtussow fitted out two
sledge-parties, for the exploration of the eastern coast. The one,
consisting of seven men, he commanded in person; the other was led by
the steersman Ziwolka. Both parties travelled in company as far as
the eastern entrance of the straits, where one of the huts in which
Rosmysslow had wintered seventy years before was still found in a good
condition.
Pachtussow now returned for the purpose of accurately surveying the
straits, while Ziwolka proceeded along the east coast, with a small
tent and provisions for a month. All his men had Samojede dresses, but
they were already so hardened that they did not wear the upper coat
with the hood even during the night, although snow-storms not seldom
occurred. Once their boots were frozen so hard that they could not pull
them off before they had been previously thawed, and as drift-wood was
nowhere to be found, they were obliged to burn the poles of their
tent, and to keep their feet over the fire until the leather became
soft. On May 18, the thirty-fourth day of his journey, Ziwolka returned
to his commander, after having explored the east coast northward to a
distance of 150 versts.
Meanwhile Pachtussow had been busy building a boat eighteen feet long,
with which he intended to proceed along the western coast to the
northern extremity of the island, and, the elements permitting, to
return to the straits along its eastern shores. About the beginning
of June the migratory birds made their appearance, and introduced a
very agreeable change in the monotonous fare of the navigators, who, a
few weeks later, enjoyed the sight of blooming flowers, and gathered
antiscorbutic herbs in large quantities.
Thus the high northern land had assumed its most friendly aspect, and
looked as cheerfully as it possibly could, when, on July 11, Pachtussow
and Ziwolka set out for the north with the boat and the transport, the
schooner being left behind in the straits with the surgeon and a few
invalids. At first the wind and weather favored their course, but on
July 21 the boat was smashed between two pieces of ice, so that they
had hardly time to escape upon the land with the nautical instruments,
a sack of flour, and some butter.
In this unpleasant situation they were obliged to remain for
thirteen days, until at last a walrus-hunter appeared, who took the
shipwrecked explorers on board, and brought them safely back to their
winter-quarters on August 22.
Thus this first attempt ended in complete disappointment, and the
season was already too far advanced to permit of its renewal. Yet
Pachtussow, resolving with praiseworthy zeal to make the most of the
last days of the short summer, set out again on August 26 for the
eastern entrance of the straits, and proceeded along the coast, until
he was stopped by the ice at some distance beyond the small islands
which bear his name.
Convinced of the fruitlessness of all further efforts, Pachtussow bade
adieu with a sorrowful heart to the coast, which still stretched out
before him in undiscovered mystery, and sailed back again to Archangel
on September 20. Soon after his return he fell ill, and four weeks
later his mourning friends carried him to his grave.
The Arctic Ocean is so capricious that in the following year the
walrus-hunter Issakow, of Kem, who had no discoveries in view, was able
to round without difficulty the north-eastern extremity of Nova Zembla,
but, fearful of encountering the dangers of that dreadful coast, he
almost immediately returned.
During the two winters he spent in Nova Zembla, the steersman Ziwolka
had daily consulted the thermometer, and the result of his observations
gave to the western entrance of Mathew’s Straits a mean annual
temperature of +17°.
Thus Nova Zembla is colder than the west coast of Spitzbergen, which,
although still farther to the north, is more favorably situated with
regard to the winds and currents, and from five to ten degrees warmer
than the high northern parts of Siberia and continental America, which
sustain a comparatively numerous population, while Nova Zembla is
uninhabited. Hence this want, and the circumstance that the vegetation
of these islands scarcely rises a span above the ground, while the
forest region still penetrates far within the confines of the colder
continental regions above mentioned, are to be ascribed not to the
low mean annual temperature of Nova Zembla, but to the unfavorable
distribution of warmth over the various seasons of the year. For
although high Northern Siberia and America have a _far colder_ winter,
they enjoy a _considerably warmer_ summer, and this it is which in
the higher latitudes determines the existence or the development of
life on the dry land. During the winter the organic world is partly
sheltered under the snow, or else it migrates, or it produces within
itself sufficient warmth to defy the cold--and thus a few degrees more
or less at that time of the year are of no material consequence, while
the warmth of summer is absolutely indispensable to awaken life and
determine its development.
The comparatively _mild winter_ of Nova Zembla (no less than
thirty-three degrees warmer than that of Jakutsk) is therefore of but
little benefit to vegetable life, which on the other hand suffers
considerably from a summer inferior even to that of Melville Island
and Boothia Felix. A coast where the sun, in spite of a day of several
months’ continuance, generates so small a quantity of heat, and where
yet some vegetation is able to flourish, must necessarily be well
worthy the attention of botanists, or rather of all those who take
an interest in the geographical distribution of plants. For if in
the primitive forests of Brazil the naturalist admires the effects
of a tropical sun and an excessive humidity in producing the utmost
exuberance of vegetation, it is no less interesting for him to observe
how Flora under the most adverse circumstances still wages a successful
war against death and destruction.
Thus a few years after Pachtussow’s expedition, the desire to explore
a land so remarkable in a botanical point of view, and to gather new
fruits for science in the wilderness, induced Herr von Baer, though
already advanced in years, to undertake the journey to Nova Zembla.
Accompanied by two younger naturalists, Mr. Lehmann and Mr. Röder, the
celebrated Petersburg academician arrived on July 29, 1837, at the
western entrance of Mathew’s Straits, sailed through them the next day
in a boat, and reached the sea of Kara, where he admired a prodigious
number of jelly-fishes (_Pleurobrachia pileus_) swimming about in
the ice-cold waters, and displaying a marvellous beauty of coloring
in their ciliated ribs. This excursion might, however, have had very
disagreeable consequences, for a dreadful storm, blowing from the west,
prevented their boat from returning, and forced them to pass the night
with some walrus-hunters, whom they had the good-fortune to meet with.
On the following day the storm abated, so that the return could be
attempted; they were, however, obliged to land on a small island in
the Beluga Bay, where, wet to the skin, and their limbs shaking with
cold, they fortunately found a refuge in the ruins of a hut in which
Rosmysslow had wintered in 1767. Meanwhile the wind had veered to
the east, accompanied by a very disagreeable cold rain, which on the
mountains took the form of snow; they were now, however, able to make
use of their sail, and arrived late at night at the spot where their
ship lay at anchor, completely wet, but in good health and spirits.
“We could esteem ourselves happy,” says Von Baer, “in having paid so
slight a penalty for neglecting the precaution, so necessary to all
travellers in Nova Zembla, of providing for a week when you set out for
a day’s excursion.”
On August 4, after a thorough botanical examination of the straits, the
party proceeded along the west coast. The wind, blowing from the north,
brought them to the Kostin Schar, a maze of passages between numerous
islets, where the walrus-hunters in Nova Zembla chiefly assemble.
On August 9 an excursion was made up the river Nechwatowa, where they
rested in a hut which had been erected by some fisherman employed
in catching “golzi,” or Arctic salmon. On returning to the ship, a
dreadful storm arose from the north-east, which lasted nine days, and,
very fortunately for the botanists, caught them in the Kostin Schar,
and not on the high sea. Although they were anchored in a sheltered
bay, the waves frequently swept over the deck of their vessel, and
compelled them to remain all the time in their small, low cabin. Only
once they made an attempt to land, but the wind was so strong that they
could hardly stand. Their situation was rendered still more terrible
and anxious, as part of the crew which had been sent out hunting before
the storm began had not yet returned.
When at last the storm ceased, winter seemed about to begin in good
earnest. Every night ice formed in the river, and the land was covered
with snow, which had surprised the scanty vegetation in its full
bloom. At length the hunters returned, after having endured terrible
hardships, and now preparations were made for a definitive departure.
A general bath was taken, without which no anchorage in Nova Zembla
is ever left, and, according to ancient custom, a votive cross was
likewise erected on the strand, as a memorial of the expedition.
On August 28 the anchors were weighed, but they were soon dropped
again in the Schar, to examine on a small island the vegetable and
animal products of the land and of the shore. The former offered but
few objects of interest, but they were astonished at the exuberance of
marine life. After having been detained by a thick fog in this place
for several days, they at length sailed towards the White Sea, where
they were obliged by contrary winds to run into Tri Ostrowa. Dreary and
desolate as the tundras at this extreme point of Lapland had appeared
to them on their journey outward, they were now charmed with their
green slopes, a sight of which they had been deprived in Nova Zembla.
On September 11 they at length reached the port of Archangel, with the
agreeable prospect of passing the winter in a comfortable study at St.
Petersburg instead of spending it, like Barentz and his associates, as
might easily have happened, in a wretched hut beyond the 70th degree of
northern latitude.
Having thus briefly sketched Von Baer’s adventures, I will now notice
some of the most interesting scientific results of his journey.
The rocky west coast of Nova Zembla has about the same appearance
as the analogous part of Spitzbergen, for here also the mountains,
particularly in the northern island, rise abruptly to a height of
three or four thousand feet from the sea, while the eastern coast
is generally flat. In both countries, angular blocks of stone,
precipitated from the summits, cover the sides of the hills, and
frequently make it impossible to ascend them. In fact, no rock, however
hard or finely grained, is able to withstand the effects of a climate
where the summer is so wet and the winter so severe. Nowhere in Nova
Zembla is a grass-covered spot to be found deserving the name of a
meadow. Even the foliaceous lichens, which grow so luxuriantly in
Lapland, have here a stunted appearance; but, as Von Baer remarks, this
is owing less to the climate than to the nature of the soil, as plants
of this description thrive best on chalky ground. The crustaceous
lichens, however, cover the blocks of augite and porphyry with a motley
vesture, and the dingy carpet with which _Dryas octopetala_ invests
here and there the dry slopes, formed of rocky detritus, reminds one of
the tundras of Lapland.
The scanty vegetable covering which this only true social plant of
Nova Zembla affords is, however, but an inch thick, and can easily be
detached like a cap from the rock beneath.
On a clayey ground in moist and low situations, the mosses afford a
protection to the polar willow (_Salix polaris_), which raises but two
leaves and a catkin over the surface of its covering.
Even the most sparing sheet of humus has great difficulty to form
in Nova Zembla, as in a great number of the plants which grow there
the discolored leaf dries on the stalk, and is then swept away by
the winds, so that the land would appear still more naked if many
plants, such as the snow ranunculus (_Ranunculus nivalis_), were not
so extremely abstemious as to require no humus at all, but merely a
rocky crevice or some loose gravel capable of retaining moisture in its
interstices.
But even in Nova Zembla there are some more favored spots. Thus when
Von Baer landed at the foot of a high slate mountain fronting the
south-west, and reflecting the rays of the sun, he was astonished and
delighted to see a gay mixture of purple silenes, golden ranunculuses,
peach-colored parryas, white cerastias, and blue palemones, and was
particularly pleased at finding the well-known forget-me-not among the
ornaments of this Arctic pasture. Between these various flowers the
soil was everywhere visible, for the dicotyledonous plants of the high
latitudes produce no more foliage than is necessary to set off the
colors of the blossoms, and have generally more flowers than leaves.
The entire vegetation of the island is confined to the superficial
layer of the soil and to the lower stratum of the air. Even those
plants which in warm climates have a descending or vertical root have
here a horizontal one, and none, whether grasses or shrubs, grow higher
than a span above the ground.
In the polar willow, a single pair of leaves sits on a stem about as
thick as a straw, although the whole plant forms an extensive shrub
with numerous ramifications. Another species of willow (_Salix lanata_)
attains the considerable height of a span, and is a perfect giant among
the Nova Zembla plants, for the thick subterranean trunk sometimes
measures two inches in diameter, and can be laid bare for a length of
ten or twelve feet without finding the end. Thus in this country the
forests are more _in_ than _above_ the earth.
This horizontal development of vegetation is caused by the sun
principally heating the superficial sheet of earth, which imparts its
warmth to the stratum of air immediately above it, and thus confines
the plants within the narrow limits which best suit their growth.
Hence also the influence of position on vegetation is so great that,
while a plain open to the winds is a complete desert, a gentle mountain
slope not seldom resembles a garden.
The absence of all trees or shrubs, or even of all vigorous herbage,
imparts a character of the deepest solitude to the Nova Zembla
landscape, and inspires even the rough sailor with a kind of religious
awe. “It is,” says Von Baer, “as if the dawn of creation had but
just begun, and life were still to be called into existence.” The
universal silence is but rarely broken by the noise of an animal. But
neither the cry of the sea-mew, wheeling in the air, nor the rustling
of the lemming in the stunted herbage are able to animate the scene.
No voice is heard in calm weather. The rare land-birds are silent as
well as the insects, which are comparatively still fewer in number.
This tranquillity of nature, particularly during serene days, reminds
the spectator of the quiet of the grave; and the lemmings seem like
phantoms as they glide noiselessly from burrow to burrow. In our fields
even a slight motion of the air becomes visible in the foliage of the
trees or in the waving of the corn; here the low plants are so stiff
and immovable that one might suppose them to be painted. The rare
sand-bee (_Andrena_), which on sunny days and in warm places flies
about with languid wings, has scarcely the spirit to hum, and the flies
and gnats, though more frequent, are equally feeble and inoffensive.
As a proof of the rarity of insects in Nova Zembla, Von Baer mentions
that not a single larva was to be found in a dead walrus which had been
lying at least fourteen days on the shore. The hackneyed phrase of our
funeral sermons can not therefore be applied to these high latitudes,
where even above the earth the decay of bodies is extremely slow.
However poor the vegetation of Nova Zembla may be, it still suffices to
nourish a number of lemmings, which live on leaves, stems, and buds,
but not on roots. The slopes of the mountains are often undermined in
all directions by their burrows. Next to these lemmings, the Arctic
foxes are the most numerous quadrupeds, as they find plenty of food in
the above-mentioned little rodents, as well as in the young birds, and
in the bodies of the marine animals which are cast ashore by the tides.
White bears are scarcely ever seen during the summer, and the reindeer
seems to have decreased in numbers, at least on the west coast, where
they are frequently shot by the Russian morse-hunters.
The hosts of sea-birds in some parts of the coast prove that the
waters are far more prolific than the land. The foolish guillemots
(_Uria troile_), closely congregated in rows, one above the other, on
the narrow ledges of vertical rock-walls, make the black stone appear
striped with white. Such a breeding-place is called by the Russians a
bazar. On the summit of isolated cliffs, and suffering no other bird
in his vicinity, nestles the large gray sea-mew (_Larus glaucus_), to
whom the Dutch whale-catchers have given the name of “burghermaster.”
While the ice-bear is monarch of the land animals, this gull appears as
the sovereign lord of all the sea-birds around, and no guillemot would
venture to dispute the possession of a dainty morsel claimed by the
imperious burghermaster.
This abundance of the sea has also attracted man to the desert shores
of Nova Zembla. Long before Barentz made Western Europe acquainted
with the existence of Nova Zembla (1594–96), the land was known to
the Russians as a valuable hunting or fishing ground; for the Dutch
discoverer met with a large number of their vessels on its coast.
Burrough, who visited the port of Kola in 1556, in search of the
unfortunate Willoughby, and thence sailed as far as the mouth of the
Petschora, likewise saw in the gulf of Kola no less than thirty lodjes,
all destined for walrus-hunting in Nova Zembla.
Whether, before the Russians, the adventurous Norsemen ever visited
these desolate islands, is unknown, but so much is certain, that ever
since the times of Barentz the expeditions of the Muscovites to its
western coast have been uninterruptedly continued. As is the case with
all fishing speculations, their success very much depends upon chance.
The year 1834 was very lucrative, so that in the following season about
eighty ships, with at least 1000 men on board, sailed for Nova Zembla
from the ports of the White Sea, but this time the results were so
unsatisfactory that in 1836 scarce half the number were fitted out. In
1837 no more than twenty vessels were employed, and Von Baer relates
that but one of them which penetrated into the sea of Kara made a
considerable profit, while all the rest, with but few exceptions, did
not pay one-half of their expenses.
The most valuable animals are the walrus and the white dolphin, or
beluga. Among the seals, the _Phoca albigena_ of Pallas distinguishes
itself by its size, the thickness of its skin, and its quantity of
fat; _Phoca grœnlandica_ and _Phoca hispida_ rank next in estimation.
The Greenland whale never extends his excursions to the waters of Nova
Zembla, but the fin-back and the grampus are frequently seen.
The Alpine salmon (_Salmo alpinus_), which towards autumn ascends into
the mountain-lakes, is caught in incredible numbers; and, finally, the
bean-goose (_Anser segetum_) breeds so frequently, at least upon the
southern island, that the gathering of its quill-feathers is an object
of some importance.