OUT AT SEA
The wind was favourable, though it blew in April gales. The _Forward_
cut through the waves, and towards three o'clock crossed the mail
steamer between Liverpool and the Isle of Man. The captain hailed
from his deck the last adieu that the _Forward_ was destined to hear.
At five o'clock the pilot left the command in the hands of Richard
Shandon, the commander of the brig, and regained his cutter, which,
turning round, soon disappeared on the south-west. Towards evening
the brig doubled the Calf of Man at the southern extremity of the
island. During the night the sea was very rough, but the _Forward_
behaved well, left the point of Ayr to the north-west, and directed
its course for the Northern Channel. Johnson was right; once out at
sea the maritime instinct of the sailors gained the upper hand. Life
on board went on with regularity.
The doctor breathed in the sea air with delight; he walked about
vigorously in the squalls, and for a _savant_ he was not a bad sailor.
"The sea is splendid," said he to Johnson, coming up on deck after
breakfast. "I have made its acquaintance rather late, but I shall
make up for lost time."
"You are right, Mr. Clawbonny. I would give all the continents of
the world for a corner of the ocean. They pretend that sailors soon
get tired of their profession, but I've been forty years on the sea
and I love it as much as the first day."
"It is a great pleasure to feel a good ship under one's feet, and
if I'm not a bad judge the _Forward_ behaves herself well."
"You judge rightly, doctor," answered Shandon, who had joined the
talkers; "she is a good ship, and I acknowledge that a vessel destined
for navigation amongst ice has never been better equipped. That
reminds me that thirty years ago Captain James Ross, sailing for the
North-West passage----"
"In the _Victory_," added the doctor quickly, "a brig about the same
tonnage as ours, with a steam-engine too."
"What! you know about that?"
"Judge if I do," answered the doctor. "Machines were then in their
infancy, and the _Victory's_ kept her back; the captain, James Ross,
after having vainly repaired it bit by bit, finished by taking it
down, and abandoned it at his first winter quarters."
"The devil!" said Shandon. "You know all about it, I see."
"Yes. I've read the works of Parry, Ross, and Franklin, and the reports
of McClure, Kennedy, Kane, and McClintock, and I remember something
of what I've read. I can tell you, too, that this same McClintock,
on board the _Fox_, a screw brig in the style of ours, went easier
to his destination than any of the men who preceded him."
"That's perfectly true," answered Shandon; "he was a bold sailor was
McClintock; I saw him at work. You may add that, like him, we shall
find ourselves in Davis's Straits in April, and if we succeed in
passing the ice our voyage will be considerably advanced."
"Unless," added the doctor, "it happens to us like it did to the _Fox_
in 1857, to be caught the very first year by the ice in Baffin's Sea,
and have to winter in the midst of the icebergs."
"We must hope for better luck," answered Johnson. "If a ship like
the _Forward_ can't take us where we want to go, we must renounce
all hope for ever."
"Besides," said the doctor, "if the captain is on board he will know
better than we do what must be done. We know nothing as yet; his letter
says nothing about what our voyage is for."
"It is a good deal to know which way to go," answered Shandon quickly.
"We can do without the captain and his instructions for another month
at least. Besides, you know what I think about it."
"A short time ago," said the doctor, "I thought like you that the
captain would never appear, and that you would remain commander of
the ship; but now----"
"Now what?" replied Shandon in an impatient tone.
"Since the arrival of the second letter I have modified that opinion."
"Why, doctor?"
"Because the letter tells you the route to follow, but leaves you
ignorant of the _Forward's_ destination; and we must know where we
are going to. How the deuce are you to get a letter now we are out
at sea? On the coast of Greenland the service of the post must leave
much to wish for. I believe that our gentleman is waiting for us in
some Danish settlement--at Holsteinborg or Uppernawik; he has
evidently gone there to complete his cargo of sealskins, buy his
sledges and dog, and, in short, get together all the tackle wanted
for a voyage in the Arctic Seas. I shouldn't be at all surprised to
see him come out of his cabin one of these fine mornings and begin
commanding the ship in anything but a supernatural way."
"It's possible," answered Shandon drily; "but in the meantime the
wind is getting up, and I can't risk my gallant sails in such weather."
Shandon left the doctor and gave the order to reef the topsails.
"He takes it to heart," said the doctor to the boatswain.
"Yes," answered the latter, "and it's a great pity, for you may be
right, Mr. Clawbonny."
In the evening of Saturday the _Forward_ doubled the Mull of Galloway,
whose lighthouse shone to the north-east; during the night they left
the Mull of Cantyre to the north, and Cape Fair, on the coast of Ireland,
to the east. Towards three o'clock in the morning, the brig, leaving
Rathlin Island on her starboard side, disembogued by the Northern
Channel into the ocean. It was Sunday, the 8th of April, and the doctor
read some chapters of the Bible to the assembled seamen. The wind
then became a perfect hurricane, and tended to throw the brig on to
the Irish coast; she pitched, and rolled, and tossed, and if the doctor
was not seasick it was because he would not be, for nothing was easier.
At noon Cape Malinhead disappeared towards the south; it was the last
European ground that these bold sailors were to perceive, and more
than one watched it out of sight, destined never to see it again.
They were then in 55 degrees 57 minutes latitude and 7 degrees 40
minutes longitude by the Greenwich meridian.
The storm spent itself out about nine o'clock in the evening; the
_Forward_, like a good sailor, maintained her route north-west. She
showed by her behaviour during the day what her sailing capacities
were, and as the Liverpool connoisseurs had remarked, she was above
all, a sailing vessel. During the following days the _Forward_ gained
the north-west with rapidity; the wind veered round south, and the
sea had a tremendous swell on; the brig was then going along under
full sail. Some petrels and puffins came sailing over the poop; the
doctor skilfully shot one of the latter, and it fell, fortunately,
on the deck. The harpooner, Simpson, picked it up and brought it to
its owner.
"Nasty game that, Mr. Clawbonny," he said.
"It will make an excellent meal, on the contrary," said the doctor.
"You don't mean to say you are going to eat that thing?"
"And so are you, old fellow," said the doctor, laughing.
"Poh!" replied Simpson, "but it's oily and rancid, like all other
sea birds."
"Never mind!" answered the doctor, "I have a peculiar way of cooking
that game, and if you recognise it for a sea bird I'll consent never
to kill another in my life."
"Do you know how to cook, then?"
"A _savant_ ought to know how to do a little of everything."
"You'd better take care, Simpson," said the boatswain; "the doctor's
a clever man, and he'll make you take this puffin for a grouse."
The fact is that the doctor was quite right about his fowl; he took
off all the fat, which all lies under the skin, principally on the
thighs, and with it disappeared the rancidity and taste of fish which
is so disagreeable in a sea bird. Thus prepared the puffin was declared
excellent, and Simpson acknowledged it the first.
During the late storm Richard Shandon had been able to judge of the
qualities of his crew; he had watched each man narrowly, and knew
how much each was to be depended upon.
James Wall was devoted to Richard, understood quickly and executed
well, but he might fail in initiative; he placed him in the third
rank. Johnson was used to struggle with the sea; he was an old stager
in the Arctic Ocean, and had nothing to learn either in audacity or
_sang-froid_. The harpooner, Simpson, and the carpenter, Bell, were
sure men, faithful to duty and discipline. The ice-master, Foker,
was an experienced sailor, and, like Johnson, was capable of rendering
important service. Of the other sailors Garry and Bolton seemed to
be the best; Bolton was a gay and talkative fellow; Garry was
thirty-five, with an energetic face, but rather pale and sad-looking.
The three sailors, Clifton, Gripper, and Pen, seemed less ardent and
resolute; they easily grumbled. Gripper wanted to break his
engagement even before the departure of the _Forward_; a sort of shame
kept him on board. If things went on all right, if there were not
too many risks to run, no dangers to encounter, these three men might
be depended upon; but they must be well fed, for it might be said
that they were led by their stomachs. Although warned beforehand,
they grumbled at having to be teetotallers; at their meals they
regretted the brandy and gin; it did not, however, make them spare
the tea and coffee, which was prodigally given out on board. As to
the two engineers, Brunton and Plover, and the stoker, Warren, there
had been nothing for them to do as yet, and Shandon could not tell
anything about their capabilities.
On the 14th of April the _Forward_ got into the grand current of the
Gulf Stream, which, after ascending the eastern coast of America to
Newfoundland, inclines to the north-east along the coast of Norway.
They were then in 57 degrees 37 minutes latitude by 22 degrees 58
minutes longitude, at two hundred miles from the point of Greenland.
The weather grew colder, and the thermometer descended to thirty-two
degrees, that is to say to freezing point.
The doctor had not yet begun to wear the garments he destined for
the Arctic Seas, but he had donned a sailor's dress like the rest;
he was a queer sight with his top-boots, in which his legs disappeared,
his vast oilcloth hat, his jacket and trousers of the same; when
drenched with heavy rains or enormous waves the doctor looked like
a sort of sea-animal, and was proud of the comparison.
During two days the sea was extremely rough; the wind veered round
to the north-west, and delayed the progress of the _Forward_. From
the 14th to the 16th of April the swell was great, but on the Monday
there came such a torrent of rain that the sea became calm immediately.
Shandon spoke to the doctor about this phenomenon.
"It confirms the curious observations of the whaler Scoresby, who
laid it before the Royal Society of Edinburgh, of which I have the
honour to be an honorary member. You see that when it rains the waves
are not very high, even under the influence of a violent wind, and
when the weather is dry the sea is more agitated, even when there
is less wind."
"But how is this phenomenon accounted for?"
"Very simply; it is not accounted for at all."
Just then the ice-master, who was keeping watch on the crossbars of
the topsails, signalled a floating mass on the starboard, at about
fifteen miles distance before the wind.
"An iceberg here!" cried the doctor.
Shandon pointed his telescope in the direction indicated, and
confirmed the pilot's announcement.
"That is curious!" said the doctor.
"What! you are astonished at last!" said the commander, laughing.
"I am surprised, but not astonished," answered the doctor, laughing;
"for the brig _Ann_, of Poole, from Greenspond, was caught in 1813
in perfect ice-fields, in the forty-fourth degree of north latitude,
and her captain, Dayernent, counted them by hundreds!"
"I see you can teach us something, even upon that subject."
"Very little," answered Clawbonny modestly; "it is only that ice has
been met with in even lower latitudes."
"I knew that already, doctor, for when I was cabinboy on board the
war-sloop _Fly_----"
"In 1818," continued the doctor, "at the end of March, almost in April,
you passed between two large islands of floating ice under the
forty-second degree of latitude."
"Well, I declare you astonish me!" cried Shandon.
"But the iceberg doesn't astonish me, as we are two degrees further
north."
"You are a well, doctor," answered the commander, "and all we have
to do is to be water-buckets."
"You will draw me dry sooner than you think for; and now, Shandon,
if we could get a nearer look at this phenomenon, I should be the
happiest of doctors."
"Just so, Johnson," said Shandon, calling his boatswain. "It seems
to me that the breeze is getting up."
"Yes, commander," answered Johnson; "we are making very little way,
and the currents of Davis's Straits will soon be against us."
"You are right, Johnson, and if we wish to be in sight of Cape Farewell
on the 20th of April we must put the steam on, or we shall be thrown
on the coasts of Labrador. Mr. Wall, will you give orders to light
the fires?"
The commander's orders were executed, an hour afterwards the steam
was up, the sails were furled, and the screw cutting the waves sent
the _Forward_ against the north-west wind.