ARCTIC DAYS AND NIGHTS
Everyone has read of the midnight sun and of the sunless winter of the
North. They are features of all tales of Arctic exploration. Yet, in
order to see the sun shining at midnight or to experience pitch-dark
days, it is not necessary to be actually a seeker after the North
Pole. Sunny nights and black winter days may be enjoyed, or otherwise,
even in Norway, but only in the Far North--within the Arctic Circle.
It is not quite easy to realize what things are like right away up
in the North, as it were, on the top of the world, and why things
are as they are is difficult to explain without entering into a host
of scientific details. We will, therefore, avoid a long discussion
about the movements of the earth and suchlike matters, and merely
mention certain facts. At the North Pole itself there is continuous
day for six months of the year, and continuous night for the other
six months, while on the line known as the Arctic Circle the sun
shines at midnight once, and once only, in the year, and during one
entire day of twenty-four hours in the winter it does not rise above
the horizon at all. South of the Arctic Circle there is no such thing
as midnight sun or as a day without sunrise.
As far as Norway is concerned, a considerable tract of country lies
within the Arctic Circle--in fact, an area rather larger than that
of Ireland--so it is not very difficult to find a place where the
midnight sun can be seen for a period in the summer-time, and where
in the winter some of the days are really dark. Of course, to see
the midnight sun it is necessary to be at the place selected at the
right time, and even then there is always the chance of the sky being
clouded over, and no sun visible. For the latter reason travellers
with plenty of leisure endeavour to go as far North as possible,
so as to be almost certain of seeing the great sight.
Nowadays everything is made easy for everybody, and steamers take
passengers to the North Cape throughout the summer for the sole purpose
of enabling them to see the midnight sun from the very best point
of view. Here, provided that the sky is clear, the midnight sun can
be seen from May 13 to July 31. Between those dates it does not set,
and it would be a bad summer indeed if the clouds hid the sun for so
long a time.
To reach the North Cape takes a good deal of time, and many people
dislike a lengthy sea voyage; but even if one starts from Bergen
and goes all the way by sea, there is something of interest to be
seen every day, as the steamer keeps close to the coast, threads its
way among the innumerable small islands, and calls at many places
with beautiful scenery in the background, more especially Molde and
Christiansund.
A little farther on you come to Trondhjem; but if you would curtail
the sea voyage it is not necessary to take the steamer from Bergen,
since Trondhjem can be reached by rail from Christiania or by a
driving tour right through the country from various places. Onwards
from Trondhjem, however, you must go by sea, unless you are prepared
for a long and rough overland journey.
Trondhjem, the ancient capital of Norway, is a place of historic
interest, and contains the finest cathedral in Scandinavia. Its
name means "throne home," as the old Kings of Norway used to reside
there, and it was the place where the coronation ceremony was always
performed. Though no longer the capital of the country, it is still
a flourishing town, and the present King (Haakon VII.) was crowned
there a few years ago.
Now the real sea voyage to the North Cape commences, and with luck
you may reach your destination in five days, but on every one of the
five you will stop somewhere or see something which will be worth
seeing. The town of Namsos is of no great interest, but the coast and
island scenery now becomes stupendous and grand, with great giant
rocks rising up out of the sea. The most remarkable of these are
Torghatten and Hestmanden.
The peculiarity of Torghatten lies in the fact that there is a hole
or tunnel straight through the massive rock, which itself is some
800 feet in height. As you sail past it you see daylight through the
hole, and if you land to examine it you will find that it is nearly
200 yards from end to end, and that its almost perpendicular sides
vary in height from 60 feet at one end to four times that height at
the other end. No man can account for this remarkable tunnel except
by quoting the local legend, and in this the Hestmand (the other
extraordinary rocky island) is mixed up.
Hestmanden, the "man on horseback," is a wonderful mass of rock,
the outline of which, allowing for a little imagination, resembles
a man on a horse. And this is the legend:
Not far from Torghatten is an island called Lekö, on which, in the
age of the giants, there lived a beautiful maiden. In those days
the Hestmand was a real live giant, and he fell desperately in love
with the Lekö maiden. But the latter, who was only half a giantess,
was afraid of the great monster, and would have nothing to do with
him. So the Hestmand flew into a rage, and one day chased the object
of his affections, who fled for her life. The giants did not do things
by halves, and the Hestmand was so angry that he meant to kill the
maiden, and he shot at her with a giant arrow, which was a fairly
large fir-tree. Now, just at the moment that he shot his arrow, the
maiden's brother, who was another giant, realized what was going on,
and flung his hat between his sister and the arrow. The maiden was
saved, but the arrow pierced the hat. Then the sun suddenly appeared
above the horizon, and the actors in the tragedy were instantly turned
into stone. Hestmanden is the wicked giant on his horse; Torghatten
is the hat which was pierced by the arrow; the arrow itself may be
seen, as a great stone pinnacle, on a neighbouring island; while
Lekömoen, the mountain on Lekö, is the beautiful maiden who caused
all the trouble.
But to continue the voyage. Immediately after passing Hestmanden
the Arctic Circle is crossed, and a few hours later a call is made
at the little town of Bodö. Thence to the Lofödden Islands is no
great distance, and after they have been visited and the wonderful
cod drying-grounds inspected, the steamer wends its way to Tromsö,
and then to Hammerfest, which we have already referred to as a great
place for the manufacture of cod-liver oil. Beyond this the rocky
coast presents a succession of rugged and wild capes and promontories
until the object of the voyage at length comes in sight.
The North Cape, the northernmost point of Norway, is a rocky headland
on Magerö Island--the end of all things, rising a thousand feet above
the deep blue Arctic sea. The climb up the steep, zigzag pathway
from the spot where the steamer lands you is arduous, and you will
be glad of the rest by King Oscar's column. You would have been glad
if a score of other passengers had not been with you, and still more
glad if you had come here half a century earlier, before the hand of
man had marked the spot, and before all your distant friends expected
you to post them a postcard from the North Cape.
Still, something of romance remains as, gazing northwards, you
remember that, except, perhaps, for a corner of Spitzbergen, nothing
intervenes between you and the North Pole--only that barrier of ice
which, so far, has defied all penetration. But this is mere sentiment,
and you have come to see something else--the merging of sunset with
sunrise. Du Chaillu well describes the scene: "The brilliancy of the
splendid orb varies in intensity, like that of sunset and sunrise,
according to the state of moisture of the atmosphere. One day it will
be of a deep red colour, tingeing everything with a roseate hue,
and producing a drowsy effect. There are times when the changes in
the colour between the sunset and sunrise might be compared to the
variations of a charcoal fire, now burning with a fierce red glow,
then fading away, and rekindling with greater brightness.
"There are days when the sun has a pale, whitish appearance, and when
even it can be looked at for six or seven hours before midnight. As
this hour approaches the sun becomes less glaring, gradually changing
into more brilliant shades as it dips towards the lowest point of its
course. Its motion is very slow, and for quite a while it apparently
follows the line of the horizon, during which there seems to be a
pause, as when the sun reaches noon. This is midnight. For a few
minutes the glow of sunset mingles with that of sunrise, and one
cannot tell which prevails; but soon the light becomes slowly and
gradually more brilliant, announcing the birth of another day, and
often before an hour has elapsed the sun becomes so dazzling that
one cannot look at it with the natural eye."
Such is the wondrous sight, and all through the summer, even before
and after the period of the non-setting of the sun, the nights are
almost as light as day. Indeed, all over Norway, far to the south
of the Arctic Circle, the summer nights are remarkably short--not
altogether an unmixed blessing to those who find it difficult to
sleep in daylight.
But what a change comes over these northern lands in winter! At
the North Cape the sun sets on November 18, not to rise again until
January 24, and everywhere within the Arctic Circle there is a time
of continuous night. To us, who have no experience of such a state of
affairs, it seems as if life must be bereft of all its pleasures. Yet
the dwellers in the Arctic regions think nothing of it. To them even
the dark winter has its charms, for, as has been said of a certain
gentleman, it is not really as black as it has been painted.
In the first place, there is the snow, covering everything, and even
at the darkest time of year there is sufficient light, if the sky be
clear, to see to read for an hour before and an hour after midday. Then
there is the light given by the moon and stars, and lastly the cheering
glow of the aurora borealis,or northern lights. It is not, therefore,
always dark, though when snow falls or the clouds block out the sky
the darkness becomes intense. At such times the picture is truly a
melancholy one.
To say that the light given by the aurora borealis does duty for
sunlight is not true. Magnificent spectacle as it presents, this
marvellous phenomenon produces no light of any real value, and only
occasionally for a few minutes does it illumine the landscape. Tales
of sleighing over the wastes of snow by the light of the aurora
borealis have no foundation in fact, for seldom, if ever, has it
sufficient power to obliterate the stars, and never does the moon
pale before it. On the other hand, it is certain that these northern
lights, streaming up into the heavens on every clear night of the long
winter, must bring feelings of pleasure to the inhabitants of the Polar
regions. The form, the intensity, and the colour of the light is ever
varying, and thus, in watching it, there is always expectancy. We in
England are accustomed to see these lights on autumn nights, but the
display is feeble in comparison with that of the Arctic winter.
No one knows for certain what the aurora borealis really is, and
even the most scientific people can tell you no more than that they
suppose it to be "a phenomenon of electrical origin"!