OBSERVATIONS ON THE ATMOSPHEROLOGY OF THE ARCTIC REGIONS,
PARTICULARLY RELATING TO SPITZBERGEN AND THE ADJACENT GREENLAND SEA.
In treating of the subject of this chapter, our remarks shall, in
the first instance, relate to the _climate of the Arctic Regions
and the general effects of cold_. In the autumn and spring seasons,
the climate of Spitzbergen and its adjacent sea is variable and
tempestuous. The temperature passes through its extreme range, which,
probably, exceeds fifty degrees in the same season, or even in the
same month, with a rapidity unknown in countries situate within the
temperate zones. North, west, and east winds bring with them the
extreme cold of the icy regions immediately surrounding the Pole,
whilst a shift of wind to the south-west, south, or south-east,
elevates the temperature towards that of the neighbouring seas.
An arctic winter consists of the accumulation of almost everything
among atmospheric phenomena that is disagreeable to the feelings,
together with the privation of those bounties of Heaven with which
other parts of the earth, in happier climates, are so plentifully
supplied. During the whole of the winter months, the cheering rays of
the sun are neither seen nor felt, and there are occasional storms of
wind and snow.
The most severe cold, says Crantz, that occurs in Greenland, sets in,
as in temperate climates, “after the new year; and is so piercing
in February and March, that the stones split in twain, and the sea
reeks like an oven.” On the return of the sun, the months of May,
June, and August, are even occasionally pleasant; but with July, and
partially with June and August, the densest fogs prevail, which are
more depressing to the spirits than even intense cold.
The temperature of the atmosphere, when the fogs prevail, is
generally near the freezing point, and is not above three or four
degrees higher at midday than at midnight, and sometimes does not
vary above a degree or two for several days together. But, in the
spring and winter seasons, the temperature is subject to very great
and rapid alterations, which are frequently simultaneous with the
greatest changes of pressure. This renders the thermometer a valuable
appendage in the prognostication of the weather.
The great depression of temperature which takes place in the
proximity of ice with a northerly wind, appears equally as
considerable to the feelings in low as in high latitudes. As great
a degree of cold as ever I noticed in a series of twelve years’
observations (once excepted) was in latitude 71¼°, April 12, 1814,
when the mean of three thermometers indicated zero; and, on the same
occasion, during an interval of three days, the mean temperature was
less than 5°. The wind in the mean time was continually blowing from
the north-eastward, generally blowing a gale, but sometimes moderate.
On the 25th of April, 1813, in latitude 8°, the thermometer fell to
4°, during a hard gale from the north-east, but on account of the
ship being driven away from the ice it soon rose to 10° or 15°. The
effect of the ice in reducing the temperature is so considerable,
that our proximity to it is often announced by the coldness before
it can be seen. In this manner, the difference of a few leagues in
position sometimes produces a surprising increase of cold.
The Greenland sailors, being well defended from external cold by
a choice selection of warm clothing, generally support the lowest
temperature, after a few days’ habitude, without much inconvenience.
When, however, its attacks are not gradual, as when a ship, which
has attained the edge of the ice, under a southerly gale, is exposed
suddenly to a northerly breeze, the change of temperature is so great
and rapid, that the most hardy cannot conceal their uneasiness under
its first impression. On one occasion, in the year 1814, there
was between the time of my leaving the deck at night and arising
the following morning an increase in the cold of about 20°. This
remarkable change was attended with singular effects. The circulation
of the blood was accelerated, a sense of parched dryness was excited
in the nose; the mouth, or rather lips, were contracted in all their
dimensions, as by a sphincter, and the articulation of many words was
rendered difficult and imperfect; indeed, every part of the body was
more or less stimulated or disordered by the severity of the cold.
The hands, if exposed, would have been frozen in a few minutes, and
even the face could not have resisted the effects of a brisk wind,
continued for any length of time. A piece of metal, when applied to
the tongue, instantly adhered to it, and could not be removed without
its retaining a portion of the skin; iron became brittle, and such
as was at all of inferior quality might be fractured by a blow;
brandy, of English manufacture and wholesale strength, was frozen;
quicksilver, by a single process, might have been consolidated; the
sea, in some places, was in the act of freezing, and, in others,
appeared to smoke, and produced, in the formation of _frost-rime_, an
obscurity greater than that of the thickest fog.
The subtle principle of magnetism seemed to be, in some way or other,
influenced by the frost, for the deck compasses became sluggish, or
even motionless, while a cabin compass traversed with celerity. The
ship became enveloped in ice; the bows, sides, and lower rigging,
were loaded; and the rudder, if not repeatedly freed, would, in a
short time, have been rendered immovable. A considerable swell at
this time prevailing, the smoke in the cabin, with the doors closed,
was so intolerable, that we were under the necessity of giving free
admission to the external air to prevent it. The consequence was,
that, in front of a brisk fire, at the distance of a yard and a half
from it, the temperature was 25°; water spilt on the table froze,
and, indeed, congelation took place in one situation at the distance
of only two feet from the stove. Hoar-frost, also, appeared in the
sailors’ bed-cabins, arising from their breath, and was deposited
upon their blankets.
Under such a temperature, the whale-fishery could not be prosecuted,
for nature could not sustain continued exposure to the pungent force
of the wind. With a calm atmosphere, however, the sensible effects of
cold are singularly diminished; the cold of zero then becomes equally
supportable with the temperature of 10, 15, or even 20 degrees, when
impressed by a brisk wind; hence, the sensations produced on the body
become a very equivocal criterion for estimating the degree of cold.
The effect of cold in preventing the traversing of compasses, exposed
to its influence, has been noticed by some navigators. As a remedy
against this inconvenience, Ellis, in his voyage to Hudson’s Bay,
suggests the propriety of removing the compasses into a warm place,
by which the needles speedily resume their activity. I have found,
by experiments, that neither the attractive nor directive power of
the magnet suffers diminution by an increase of cold. There appears,
however, to be an increase of friction, or the introduction of some
unknown principle, which, when the degree of cold is very much
increased, occasions a diminution in the mobility of magnetic needles.
Many remarkable effects of cold are related in the journals of Polar
navigators. Captain James, when wintering in Hudson’s Bay, latitude
52° north, experienced such cold, that, on the 10th December, many
of the sailors had their noses, cheeks, and fingers, frozen as white
as paper. Ellis, who wintered in the same region, latitude 57° 30′,
found, by the 3rd of November, bottled beer, though wrapped in
tow, and placed near a good, constant fire, frozen solid. Many of
the sailors had their faces, ears, and toes frozen; iron adhered
to their fingers; glasses used in drinking stuck to the mouth, and
sometimes removed the skin from the lips or tongue; and a sailor, who
inadvertently used his finger for stopping a spirit-bottle in place
of a cork, while removing it from the house to his tent, had his
finger fast frozen in the bottle, in consequence of which a part of
it was obliged to be taken off to prevent mortification.
A Hamburgh whaler, beset by the ice, near Spitzbergen, in the year
1769, was exposed to great danger. The effect of the frost was such,
that the seams in the ship’s sides cracked with a noise resembling
the report of a pistol. These openings at first rendered the vessel
very leaky, but after she got free from the ice, and into a milder
climate, they again closed.
In the interesting narrative, by Pelham, of the preservation of eight
seamen, who were accidentally left in Spitzbergen, in the year 1630,
and wintered there, are some remarks on the effects of cold. The sea
of the bay, where they took up their abode, froze over on the 10th
of October. After the commencement of the new year, the frost became
most intense; it raised blisters in their flesh as if they had been
burned with fire, and if they touched iron at such times it would
stick to their fingers like bird-lime. Sometimes, when they went
out of doors to procure water, they were seized in such a way by
the cold, that their flesh felt as sore as if they had been cruelly
beaten.
The effects of cold at Disco, as observed by M. Paul Egedé, on the
7th January, 1738, and recorded by David Crantz, in his History of
Greenland, are too striking to be omitted. “The ice and hoar-frost,”
says Egedé, “reach through the chimney to the stove’s mouth, without
being thawed by the fire in the day-time. Over the chimney is an
arch of frost, with little holes, through which the smoke discharges
itself. The doors and walls are as if they were plastered over with
frost, and, which is scarcely credible, beds are often frozen to the
bedsteads. The linen is frozen in the drawers, the upper eider-down
bed and the pillows are quite stiff with frost an inch thick, from
the breath.”
The terrific power of these mighty agencies of nature illustrate His
perfections, who has all resources at his command, to minister to
the comfort of his servants, or the inevitable destruction of his
enemies. To be hostile to the God of heaven and of earth, is surely
the height of folly as well as of ingratitude. “He sendeth forth his
commandment upon earth: his word runneth very swiftly. He giveth snow
like wool: he scattereth the hoar-frost like ashes. He casteth forth
his ice like morsels: who can stand before his cold?”
In these frigid regions, the scurvy becomes a very alarming disease,
and many individuals have perished by it, who have attempted to
winter in Spitzbergen and neighbouring countries. It appears,
however, probable, that this disease is not so much influenced by
the severity of the climate as by the use of improper aliment. An
excellent paper on this subject, by Dr. John Aikin, is published in
the Memoirs of the Literary and Philosophical Society of Manchester.
It affirms, that by the constant use of fresh provisions, the
occasional use of oleaginous substances, together with frequent
exercise, a warm dwelling, and a warm clothing, there would,
probably, be little danger in exposure to the severities of a
Spitzbergen winter. Whenever I have had occasion to expose myself to
severe cold, I have found that the more I am heated the longer I can
resist the cold without inconvenience. The warmth produced by simple
fluids, such as tea or soup, is preferable to that occasioned by
spirits. After the liberal use of tea, I have often sustained a cold
ten degrees at the mast-head for several hours without uneasiness. I
have frequently gone from the breakfast-table, where the temperature
was 50° or 60°, to the mast-head, where it was ten, without any other
additional clothing except a cap, yet I never received any injury,
and seldom much inconvenience, from the uncommon transition.
The antiseptical property of frost is remarkable. Animal substances
requisite as food, of all descriptions, (fish excepted,) may be taken
to Greenland, and there preserved any length of time, without being
smoked, dried, or salted. Beef, mutton, pork, and fowls, the latter
neither plucked nor drawn, are constantly taken out from England,
Shetland, or Orkney, and preserved in this way. When used, the beef
is best divided by a saw; it is then thawed in cold water, and,
if cooked, when three, four, or five months old, will frequently
appear as profuse of gravy as if it had been recently killed. A
further antiseptical effect is produced by the cold on animal and
vegetable substances, so as to preserve them, if they remain in the
same climate, unchanged for a period of many years. An instance
corroborative of this remark is given by M. Bleau, who, in his Atlas
Historique, informs us, that the bodies of seven Dutch seamen, who
perished in Spitzbergen, in the year 1635, were found twenty years
afterwards by some sailors, who happened to land about the place
where they were interred, in a perfect state, not having suffered the
smallest degree of putrefaction. Wood, indeed, has been met with in
Spitzbergen, which has resisted all injury from the weather during
the lapse of a century.
Our remarks must now be directed to _meteorology_, and to an
investigation of the temperature of the north Polar regions, and its
constant tendency to equalization.
Though in a state of rapid improvement, the science of meteorology
is acknowledged to be yet in its infancy. Before the discovery
of the weight of the atmosphere by Torricelli, about the year
1630, no means of registering its variations of pressure could be
known or practised. Hence we can have no very correct idea of the
relative temperature of climates in the present and remote periods,
unless from occasional historical remarks of the formation of ice
in particular lakes, rivers, or parts of the sea, or from the
capability of the earth for producing certain fruits or grain. In
consequence, however, of the use of the thermometer and barometer,
meteorology, as a science, has made considerable advancement. The
records of phenomena, which these instruments indicate, have proved
highly useful. Professor Mayer has given us a formula for determining
the temperature of any situation on the globe, where observations
have not been made. Dr. Hutton has presented us with an ingenious
and plausible theory of rain; and Kirwan, Humboldt, and others, have
advanced our knowledge of the climates of different countries. Dr.
Wells has investigated the phenomena of dew, and professor Leslie
has conducted profound researches on the relations of air to heat
and moisture, and on the propagation of heat and cold through the
atmosphere to distant regions. By the invention, also, of several
curious and useful instruments, especially the hygrometer for the
measurement of the dryness or dampness of the atmosphere, he has
contributed very largely to the advancement of meteorological
knowledge.
The temperature of the atmosphere in any particular region is one
of those phenomena, which, however they may fluctuate, or whatever
may be their daily, monthly, or yearly variations, and however
unequal and capricious these may be, will, on the average of numerous
corresponding periods, be found to be dependent on certain laws
tending to produce equilibrium; so that the general results are
remarkably uniform. When we experience particularly cold winters, or
particularly hot summers, we might suppose that the mean temperature
of the years in which the former occur, would be greatly below,
and that of years in which the hot summers occur, would be greatly
above, the general standard. But this will seldom be found to be the
case. In temperate climates of the northern hemisphere, the mean
temperature of any one year, derived from the mean of the daily
extremes of heat and cold, or from any particular number of daily
observations, continued through the course of twelve successive
months, seldom differs from the general mean temperature, as derived
from the observation of a great, number of years, more than two or
three degrees. The mean temperature of any single month cannot be
supposed to be equally uniform; this, however, does not differ so
widely from the general mean of the month as might be expected.
As the mean annual temperature of a country is, therefore, probably
given by one year’s observations only, to within two or three degrees
of the truth, the mean of a period of eight or ten years will,
probably, come within one degree of the truth. By the comparison
of the results of thermometrical observations, made in different
countries, with each other, tracing the changes of temperature,
which appear with certain changes of latitude or situation, some
ingenious and philosophical men have endeavoured, by principles
of analogy and induction, to determine the mean temperature of
every parallel of latitude from the Equator to the north Pole.
These calculations have been considered as near approximations;
and, as long as observations were wanting, served for purposes of
investigation, to complete the scale of the temperature of the globe.
When we reach, however, the regions of perpetual ice, a remarkable
anomaly is discovered, the mean temperature falling below the
estimation in these tables at once 17°. From a series of observations
on the temperature, etc., of the Polar regions, conducted with care
during twelve successive voyages to the Greenland Seas, I am able to
deduce the following conclusions.
The mean temperature of the months of April, May, June, and July,
are satisfactorily derived from the means of the latitudes and of
the observations of temperature; but the mean temperature of the
whole year, and of the winter months, wherein no observations in
such high latitudes have yet been made, can only be ascertained by
analogy. From the examination of numerous thermometrical registers,
particularly one consisting of 54,750 observations, made in a
succession of fifty years, at Stockholm, it would seem that the
temperature of the year in northern latitudes is indicated by that
of the 27th to 28th of April. I have collated 656 observations,
made on 242 days, in nine different years, extending equally before
and after the 27th of April, from which the mean temperature of the
year, in latitude 76° 45′, near the meridian of London, appears
to be 18° 86′. Reducing all the monthly temperatures derived from
my observations to the parallel of latitude 78° north, by the
application of Mayer’s formula, and allowing for the fact that many
of the observations of April were made at a considerable distance
from the ice, I calculate the temperature of April, latitude 78°,
to be 14° 23′, and the mean of the year in the same proportion
exactly 17°. Having discovered, by observation chiefly, the mean
temperature of the months of April, May, June, and July, and the
probable mean temperature of the year in the icy regions adjoining
Spitzbergen, I conceive it not difficult to calculate the temperature
of the remaining months. The difference between the mean temperature
of the year and that of July, is 21½° in Stockholm, and 20° near
Spitzbergen. Finding not only that the difference of temperature
between the mean of the year and July, near Spitzbergen, but that
the progressive increase of temperature from April to July, also,
bore a strong analogy to the relative circumstances at Stockholm,
I formed a scheme of decimals, connected with a simple formula, by
which the same proportion of change, which has been observed to take
place every month at Stockholm, may be made very readily to apply to
any other country, whence, situations and circumstances being nearly
similar, the temperature of unobserved months may be calculated. The
temperature of January, latitude 78°, comes out—1°; that of February,
O° 7′; March, 6° 1′; August, 34° 9′; September, 27° 8′; October, 18°
5′; November, 9° 8′; and December, 3° 1′.
Following the example of every generalizing meteorologist, I
may, with some propriety, extend my observations to the probable
temperature of the north Pole, provided I can proceed on data, not
merely arbitrary or fanciful, but founded on observation and analogy.
It has been observed, that professor Mayer’s theory for ascertaining
the temperature of every latitude, becomes exceedingly wide of the
truth when we approach the regions of perpetual ice, notwithstanding
in most other situations on the sea, or bordering thereon, it holds
sufficiently near. According to it, the mean temperature of latitude
76° 45′, near the western coast of Spitzbergen, would have been 33°
8′, instead of 18° 8′, as shown by my observations; and, according
to it, the mean temperature of the Pole is reckoned to be about 31°.
The 15° difference between the observation and calculation must be
considered as the frigorific effect of the ice, of which, if we can
ascertain the probable measurement at the Pole, we shall be able
to modify Mayer’s calculation, so as to approximate to the mean
temperature. At the Pole, no wind could convey the mild influence
of a temperate climate, because, from whatever direction it should
blow, it must be cooled down by brushing over an extensive surface
of ice; consequently, the full frigorific effect of the ice must be
greater in the Pole than in places situated at or near the borders
of the ice. In a total period of 242 days, the temperature of the
air was, by observation, found to be more or less influenced by the
ice during 173 days of that period. Hence, as 173 is to 15°, the
anomaly occasioned by the mean temperature, so is 242 to 21°, which
is the probable anomaly that may be expected when the temperature is
always influenced by the ice, or the anomaly which may be supposed
to occur at the Pole. Now, if we deduct 21° from 31°, the calculated
temperature of the Pole, the actual mean temperature at the Pole will
be about 10°.
Concerning the pressure of the atmosphere in Polar latitudes, I would
remark, particularly in the winter and spring months, it is liable
to sudden and very considerable variations, and a careful study and
observation of these is necessary to enable the watchful mariners to
anticipate the approach of storms.
The following are the relations which, in Polar latitudes, I have
been enabled to trace between the barometer and the weather:—
1. A hard westerly gale, with snow, occasions the greatest depression
of the mercury; and a light easterly wind, with dry weather, the
greatest elevation.
2. The rising of the mercury foretells the subsidence of wind or
rain, a change of wind or fine weather; and its falling, rain, snow,
or a change or increase of wind.
3. The mercury rising unusually high, and then becoming stationary,
indicates, in the months of April and May, a continuance of fine
weather; but in June or July, foggy weather.
4. If, in the month of April, the mercury fall with some rapidity an
inch or more, a storm will most certainly succeed, however contrary
appearances may be, which will probably be the more severe in
proportion as it approximates the east, and will frequently continue,
with unabated violence, for fifty or sixty hours.
5. The rising of the mercury usually precedes the cessation of
a storm, but does not invariably determine the period of its
continuance, as storms frequently blow for a day or two after the
first rise of the mercury.
6. Sudden and repeated fluctuations are indicative of unsettled
weather; but the rapid fall of the mercury is no indication of a
short gale, though, in other regions, the reverse is said to be
the case; for, before storms that continue two or three days, the
barometer frequently falls an inch within twenty-four hours; and
indeed, in a gale as long and as heavy as I almost ever witnessed,
the fall of the mercury was above an inch in twelve hours.
7. Before very heavy storms, when the barometer falls uncommonly low,
the mercury seems to get below its natural level, and often rises two
or three tenths of an inch as soon as the predicted storm commences;
hence this first rise of the mercury is no indication whatever of an
abatement of the wind.
8. On account of the different states of the barometer in west and
east winds, the usual level of the mercury, with a moderate wind at
west, not being much higher than with a gale at east, a change of
wind from one of these quarters to the opposite may be accompanied
with the greatest alteration in the strength of the wind, without
producing any effect on the barometer.
The appearance of the Greenland atmosphere corresponds in some degree
with the winter sky of Britain; the colour of the former is, however,
of a deeper azure, and its transparency, when clear and free from icy
crystals, perhaps more perfect.
Far within the borders of compact ice the atmosphere, in summer, is
often cloudless, and the weather serenely pleasant, though cold.
But in the usual fishing-stations, and on the exterior of the ice
in general, a clear sky is not frequent; nevertheless, when it does
occur, its transparency is peculiarly beautiful. The sun sometimes
sweeps two or three times round the Pole, without being for a moment
obscured by a cloud. Objects the most remote may be seen perfectly
distinct and clear. A ship’s top-gallant-mast, at the distance of
five or six leagues, may be discerned when just appearing above the
horizon, with a common perspective glass; and the summits of some
mountains are visible at the distance of sixty to a hundred miles.
This perfect clearness occurs most frequently before easterly winds;
in general, however, especially in very cold weather, objects on the
horizon, when viewed with a high magnifier, appear affected with
a perpetual tremor; whence the contemplation of distant objects
is accomplished as perfectly with a good pocket-glass as with the
best telescope. This tremulous motion is evidently produced by the
quantity of delicate icy crystals which, in very low temperatures,
are almost always seen floating in the air.
The general obscurity of the atmosphere, arising from clouds or
fogs, is such, that the sun is frequently invisible during several
successive days. At such times, when the sun is near the northern
tropic, there is scarcely any sensible variation in the quantity of
light from noon to midnight. Hence, when the sailors have been long
abroad in the boats, or so fully engaged as to be unable to mark the
progress of time, the inquiry, whether it be day or night, is not
unfrequent.
There is nothing remarkable in the appearance of the sun at midnight,
excepting that, when its altitude is very small, it may be viewed
with the naked eye, without producing any painful sensation; but when
it is more than four or five degrees above the horizon, it generally
appears as effulgent as with the same elevation in Britain. The force
of the sun’s rays is sometimes remarkable. Where they fall upon the
snow-clad surface of the ice or land, they are, in a great measure,
reflected, without producing any material elevation of temperature;
but when they impinge on the black exterior of a ship, the pitch on
one side occasionally becomes fluid, while ice is rapidly generated
on the other; or, while a thermometer, placed against the black
paint-work on which the sun shines, indicates a temperature of 80° or
90°, or even more, on the opposite side of the ship a cold of 20° is
sometimes found to prevail.
This remarkable force of the sun’s rays is accompanied with a
corresponding intensity of light. A person placed in the centre of
a field or other compact body of ice, under a cloudless atmosphere
and elevated sun, experiences such an extraordinary intensity of
light, that if it be encountered for any length of time, is not only
productive of a most painful sensation in the eyes, but sometimes
of temporary, or even, as I have heard, of permanent blindness.
Under such circumstances, the use of green glasses affords a most
agreeable relief. Some of the Indians of North America defend their
eyes by the use of a kind of wooden spectacles, having, instead of
glasses, a narrow perpendicular slit opposite to each eye. This
simple contrivance, which intercepts, perhaps, nine-tenths of the
light that would reach a naked eye, prevents any painful consequences
in the most intense reflection of light that ever occurs.
The constant light of the sun during the summer prevents the stars
from being seen; and this, together with the frequency of cloudy
or foggy weather, rarely admits a sight of the moon. Hence, the
longitude, which is of such essential importance in navigation, can
seldom be determined by lunar observations. Chronometers, therefore,
though but little used by the whale-fishers, become of enhanced
value; and even a good watch, well regulated, will, where the degrees
of longitude are so very contracted, point out the meridianal
situation of the ship for short intervals, with a very tolerable
degree of accuracy.
Though the air in the arctic seas is generally in a state of
dampness, approaching to complete saturation, yet the absolute
quantity of moisture cannot, when the cold is very excessive, be
considerable. It is remarked, that vessels are less apt to rust here
than in any other climate; and this observation, if we consider the
relative humidity of the atmosphere as indicated by the hygrometer,
is certainly correct; but though the air in the Polar regions is
generally damp, yet it is probable there is no habitable situation in
the known world in which such a degree of actual dryness prevails, as
in a house or in the cabin of a ship, well heated, when the external
air is intensely cold. The wainscoting of the cabin of a ship in cold
weather sometimes shrinks, in consequence of the uncommon dryness, as
much as half an inch in a panel of about fifteen inches broad, being
equal to one-thirtieth of the breadth; but, on returning to Britain,
the same panel expands again to almost its original dimensions.
Few observations, comparatively, seem to have been made on the
electricity of the atmosphere, especially in high latitudes. Perhaps,
some trials that I made in the spring of 1818, on this subject, were
the first that have been attempted within the arctic circle. When
in latitude 68°, I erected an insulated conductor, eight feet above
the maintop-gallant mast-head, connected by a copper wire with a
copper ball, attached by a silk string to the deck. The conductor
consisted of a slender tapering tube of tinned iron, terminated by a
pointed brass wire. It was fixed in an iron socket, supported by a
large cylindrical piece of glass; which glass, by means of another
iron socket, was secured to the top of a long pole, elevated several
feet above the mast-head. A tin cone encompassed the bottom of the
conductor, the mouth of which being downward, defended the rod of
glass from getting wet, so as to injure its insulated property.
The conducting wire, being kept clear of the rigging of the ship,
was expected to exhibit in the ball, where it terminated, any
difference between the state of the electricity of the ship or sea
and that of the atmosphere. The test of electricity was a Bennet’s
gold-leaf electrometer, brought into contact with the ball; but
though trials were made for several successive days, from lat. 78° to
lat. 75°, during clear, cloudy, and showery weather, not the least
excitation was ever observed. That the effect might be rendered more
perceptible, the electrometer was well dried and warmed immediately
before each experiment, without which, indeed, no excitation could be
produced in it, either with glass or sealing-wax. The nights being
light, the aurora borealis could not be seen; but on the evening of
the 20th of May, an appearance was observed, very much resembling the
aurora borealis, yet no signs of electricity were observed in the
electrometer applied to the conductor.
There are several phenomena of the atmosphere dependent on reflection
and refraction, deserving of notice. _Ice-blinks_ have been already
mentioned, when speaking of the ice. Under certain circumstances, all
objects seen on the horizon seem to be lifted above it a distance
of two to four, or more, minutes of altitude, or so far extended in
height above their natural dimensions. Ice, land, ships, boats, and
other objects, when thus enlarged and elevated, are said to _loom_.
The lower part of _looming_ objects are sometimes connected with the
sensible horizon by an apparent fibrous or columnar extension of
their parts, which columns are always perpendicular to the horizon;
at other times, they appear to be quite lifted into the air, a void
space being seen between them and the horizon. This phenomenon is
observed most frequently on, or before, an easterly wind, and is
generally considered as indicative of such.
A most extraordinary appearance of the Foreland, or Charles’s Island,
Spitzbergen, occurred on the 16th of July, 1814. While sailing to the
southward, along the coast, with an easterly wind, I observed what
appeared to be a mountain, in the form of a slender, but elevated,
monument. I was surprised that I had never seen it before, and
was more astonished when I saw, not far distant, a prodigious and
perfect arch thrown across a valley, of above a league in breadth.
The neighbouring mountains disclosed the cause, by exhibiting an
unnatural elevation with the columnar structure of looming objects.
Presently, the scene was changed, the mountains along the whole coast
assumed the most fantastical forms; the appearance of castles, with
lofty spires, towers, and battlements, would, in a few minutes, be
converted into a vast arch or romantic bridge. These varied, and
sometimes beautiful, metamorphoses naturally suggested the reality
of fairy descriptions; for the air was perfectly transparent; the
contrast of snow and rocks was quite distinct; even in the substance
of the most uncommon phantasms, though examined with a powerful
telescope, and every object deemed to possess every possible
stability. I never before observed a phenomenon so varied or so
amusing. The land was not alone affected by this peculiar refraction,
since every object between the north-east and south-east points of
the compass was, more or less, deformed by it. A mass of ice on
the horizon appeared of the height of a cliff, and the prismatic
structure of its front suggested the idea of basaltic columns. It
may be remarked, that these phenomena took place on a clear evening,
after an uncommonly warm afternoon.
I observed many other peculiar effects of refraction. Such phenomena
are frequent on the commencement or approach of easterly winds,
and are probably occasioned by the commixture, near the surface of
the land or sea, of two streams of air of different temperatures,
so as to occasion an irregular deposition of imperfectly condensed
vapour, which, when passing the verge of the horizon, produced these
appearances.
_Parhelia_, mock suns, and _corona_, haloes, are perhaps not so
frequent in Greenland as in some parts of America. I do not recollect
to have observed them more than thrice. In the first instance, I did
not minutely notice the particulars. I recollect, however, there were
two or three parhelia, and four or five coloured circles, some of
which almost equalled in their colours the brilliancy of the rainbow.
On the second occasion, several parhelia were succeeded by a lunar
halo, together with the aurora borealis, and proved the harbingers
of a tremendous tempest. The last phenomenon of the kind which I
saw, consisted of a large circle of luminous whiteness, passing
through the centre of the sun, in a direction nearly parallel with
the horizon, intersected in various places with coloured circles of
smaller dimensions.
_Rainbows_ are common in these regions, but the _fog-bow_, or
_fog-circle_, is more rarely observed, and is entitled to our
attention. It is a circle depicted on the fog, which prevails in
the Polar seas, at certain seasons, resting upon the surface of the
water, and seldom reaching to a considerable height. On the 19th
July, 1813, I observed one of about 30° diameter, with bands of vivid
colours depicted on the fog. The centre of the circle was in a line
drawn from the sun, through the point of vision, until it met the
visible vapour in a situation exactly opposite to the sun. The lower
part of the circle descended beneath my feet to the side of the ship,
and although it could not be a hundred feet from the eye, it was
perfect, and the colours distinct. The centre of the coloured circle
was distinguished by my own shadow, the head of which, enveloped by
a halo, was most conspicuously portrayed. I remained a long time
contemplating the beautiful phenomenon before me.
In the phenomena of the winds, which I am now about to describe, I
cannot be so precise as I have been in my observations on atmospheric
temperature and pressure; being able to give a correct idea only
of their peculiarities and direction, whilst their relative force,
founded on conjecture, I am unable to express otherwise than in the
phraseology of the mariner, which, it must be allowed, is somewhat
ambiguous.
In proportion as we recede from the equator, we find the winds
become more variable, irregular, and partial. Storms and calms,
in the northern regions, repeatedly alternate, without warning or
progression; forcible winds blow at one place, when, at the distance
of a few leagues, gentle breezes prevail; a storm from the south, on
one hand, exhausts its impetuosity upon the gentle breeze, blowing
from off the ice on the other, without prevailing in the least;
ships, within the circle of the horizon, may be seen enduring every
variety of wind and weather at the same moment; come becalmed, and
tossing about by the violence of the waves; some, under close-reefed
topsails, labouring under the force of a storm; and others, flying
under gentle breezes, from quarters as diverse as the cardinal
points.
The most general preliminaries to _sudden storms_ are perfect calms;
curiously variable breezes, with strong squalls; singular agitation
of the sea, together with thick snow, which often changes from flakes
to powder, and falls in such profusion, as to occasion an astonishing
gloominess and obscurity in the atmosphere. If the snow clear away,
the gale is often at hand, whilst a luminousness on the horizon,
resembling the ice-blink, sometimes points out its direction, and
a noise in the upper regions of the air announces its immediate
approach. In this variable and occasionally tempestuous climate,
the value of the barometer is satisfactorily proved. My father once
removed his ship from a most dangerous bight in the main ice, where
she would probably have been lost, had she remained a few moments
longer, in consequence of his having heard the rushing of a storm in
the air, while at the mast-head. Before the ship was out of danger,
a heavy gale commenced, but the sails being set, and the ship under
command, she was extricated from the perilous situation. From this
circumstance, he imagined that sudden storms frequently commence at
some height in the atmosphere, and gradually descend to the surface.
_Intermitting gales_ are almost equally common with sudden storms,
and variable winds prevail, in an extraordinary degree, in the frigid
zone. The winds, indeed, among ice, are generally unsteady in their
direction, and attended with strong gusts or squalls, particularly
in very cold weather, and towards the termination of a storm. This
variableness, being the effect of the unequal temperature of the ice
and water, is curious, but the phenomenon that is most calculated to
excite surprise is, that several distinct, and even opposite winds,
with the force, in many instances, of a fresh gale, will occasionally
prevail at the same moment of time, within the range of the horizon.
The situation in which this circumstance occurs, would appear to be
the point where conflicting winds contend for the superiority; and
as, in some instances, their forces are effectually balanced, the
winds, which simultaneously blow from the southward and northward, or
from the eastward and westward, have their energies almost destroyed
at the place of combination. Thus it sometimes happens that ships,
within sight of each other, will, at the same period of time,
experience every variety of weather, from calm to storm, from fair
weather to thickest snow, together with several distinct and contrary
currents of wind.
On the morning of the 30th of April, 1810, the ship Resolution—in
which I served in the capacity of chief-mate, or harpooner—was,
during thick showers of snow, sailing by the edge of a stream of ice,
with the wind from the north-westward. About ten, A.M., the snow
abated, and several ships were seen within the distance of three or
four miles. As all of these ships were sailing “on a wind,” it was
easy to ascertain the direction of the wind where they were, and
curious to observe its variableness. Two ships, bearing north-east
from us, had the wind at north-east; two, bearing east, had east or
east-north-east; two, bearing south-east, had the wind at south-east;
while, with us, it blew from the north-west. In each of these
situations a fresh breeze prevailed; but in some situations, where
there happened to be no ships, there appeared to be no wind at all.
The clouds above us, at the time, we’re constantly changing their
forms. Showers of snow were seen in various places at a distance.
Instances of _local storms_ are not uncommon in temperate climates,
but in the arctic regions they are frequent and striking. Their
locality is such, that a calm may occur when a storm is expected and
actually does prevail at a short distance, so that the indication of
the barometer may appear to be erroneous. In such cases, however, the
reality of the storm is often proved by the agitation of the sea.
Swells from various quarters make their appearance, and frequently
prevail at the same time. My father, whose opportunities of
observation have been very numerous, relates the following instance
of the locality of a storm. When commanding the ship Henrietta, he
was on one occasion navigating the Greenland Sea during a tedious
gale of wind, accompanied with snowy weather. As the wind began to
abate, a ship appeared in sight, under all sails, and presently
came up with the Henrietta. The master hailed, and inquired what had
happened that my father’s ship was under close-reefed top-sail in
such moderate weather. On being told that a storm had just subsided,
he declared that he knew nothing of it; he observed, indeed, a swell,
and noticed a black cloud a-head of his ship that seemed to advance
before him until he was overshadowed with it a little while before he
overtook the Henrietta, but he had had fine weather and light winds
the whole day!
A single instance is given of those sudden gusts and various currents
of wind, which occur at some elevation in the atmosphere, and which
are common to all climates. On a particularly fine day, my father
having landed on the northern part of Charles’s island, incited by
the same curiosity which led him on shore, ascended, though not
without great difficulty and fatigue, a considerable elevation,
the summit of which was not broader than a common table, and which
shelved on one side as steep as the roof of a house, and on the other
formed a mural precipice. Engaged in admiring the extensive prospect
from an eminence of about two thousand feet, he scarcely noticed
the advance of a very small cloud. Its rapid approach and peculiar
form (having somewhat the appearance of a hand) at length excited
his attention, and when it reached the place where he was seated
in a calm air, a torrent of wind assailed him with such violence,
that he was obliged to throw himself on his body and stick his hands
and feet in the snow to prevent himself from being hurled over the
tremendous slope which threatened his instant destruction. The cloud
having passed, the air, to his great satisfaction, became calm, when
he immediately descended by sliding down the surface of snow, and in
a few minutes reached the base of the mountain in safety.
The course of the seasons, as relates to prevailing winds, is
as follows. In the spring months, north-east and east winds are
frequent, with severe storms from these and other quarters. The
storms from the north-east, east, and south-east, are generally the
most violent. When they occur in March and April, they frequently
continue without intermission for two or three successive days, and
rarely subside till the wind veers round to the north or north-west.
Storms, in the spring of the year, blowing from the south-east,
generally change, before they abate, to the east, north-east, north,
and north-west; but storms commencing at south-west or south, usually
veer, before they subside, in the contrary direction, towards the
north-west, and sometimes continue changing until their strength is
spent in the north or north-east quarter. A storm beginning to blow
from the western quarter seldom continues long; when it blows hard
it commonly veers to the north or north-east, and it is observable
that a very hard southerly or easterly gale is frequently succeeded
within a few days by another from the opposite quarter. With the
advance of the month of May, storms become less frequent, and the
weather becomes sensibly better. The winds then begin to blow more
frequently from the north-west; in June, the most common winds are
north and north-west, south and south-west; and in July, south and
south-westerly winds prevail. At this season, calms or very light
winds also become frequent, and continue sometimes for several days
together. In high northern latitudes, however, very heavy storms
from the southward occur in July, and blow for thirty or forty hours
at a time. In August, north-east winds begin again to prevail. The
south-west and southerly storms of the autumn blow with particular
violence. “The wind rages so vehemently, that the houses quiver
and crack, the tents and lighter boats fly up in the air, and
the sea-water scatters about in the land like snow-dust—nay, the
Greenlanders say that the storm rends off stones a couple of pounds’
weight, and mounts them in the air. In summer, whirlwinds also spring
up, that draw up the waters out of the sea, and turn a boat round
several times.”
When the countries of temperate climates suffer under tempests in
frequent succession, Polar regions enjoy comparative tranquillity.
After the autumn gales have passed, a series of calm weather,
attended by severe frosts, frequently succeeds. So striking, indeed,
is the stillness of the northern winter, that there is truth in Dr.
Guthrie’s observation, that nature seems “to have studied perfect
equality in the distribution of her favours, as it is only parts of
the earth which most enjoy the kindly influences of the sun that
suffer by the effects of its superior heat, so that if the atmosphere
of the north is not so genial as that of the south, at least it
remains perfectly quiet and serene, without threatening destruction
to man and the product of his industry as in what are called happier
climates.”
The principal meteors, not being of the aqueous kind, that remain to
be considered are lightning and the aurora borealis. As we approach
the Pole, the former phenomenon becomes more rare, and the latter
more common. Lightning, indeed, is seldom seen to the northward
of the arctic circle, and when it does occur, it is very seldom
accompanied by thunder.
In Spitzbergen, neither thunder nor lightning has, I believe, ever
been observed. For my own part, I have never seen lightning northward
of latitude 65°, and only in two instances when at any considerable
distance from land. The aurora borealis occurs independent of land
and of cold, becoming more frequent in its appearance as we approach
the Pole, and enlivening by its brilliancy and peculiar grandeur
the tedious gloom of the long winter nights. Its appearance, though
not very frequently seen in Britain, is very common as far south as
Shetland and Feroe. In Iceland, and other countries bordering on the
arctic circle, the northern lights occur almost every clear night
during the winter. In the summer, they can seldom be seen on account
of the presence of the sun, and in the spring of the year, the
obscurity of the atmosphere prevents their frequent exhibition. In
several instances, I have known stormy weather follow the appearance
of the brilliant aurora, and one of the most tremendous storms I was
ever exposed to, succeeded a splendid exhibition of the northern
lights. Under certain circumstances, especially when they are seen
at a considerable altitude above the horizon, having a red or copper
colour, they are supposed to be indicative of a violent storm.
Our chapter on atmospherical phenomena must now be concluded by
observations on aqueous meteors; including clouds, rain, hail, snow,
frost-rime, hoar-frost, and fog.
Very little clear weather occurs in the Greenland seas, for often
when the atmosphere is free from any visible vapour on the land, at
sea it is obscured by frost-rime in the spring of the year, and by
clouds or fog in the summer; so that scarcely one-twentieth of the
season devoted to the whale-fishery can be said to consist of clear
weather.
The _clouds_ most generally consist of a dense stratum of obscurity,
composed of irregular compact patches covering the whole expanse of
the heavens. The _cirrus_, _cirrocumulus_, and _cirrostratus_, of
Howard’s nomenclature, are occasionally distinct; the _nimbus_ is
partly formed, but never complete: and the grandeur of the _cumulus_
or thunder-cloud is never seen, unless it be on the land. In the
atmosphere over the coasts in Greenland and Spitzbergen, where the
air is greatly warmed by the concentration and reflection of the
sun’s rays in the sheltered valleys, a small imperfect cumulus is
sometimes exhibited.
The known agents made use of in the economy of nature for the
production of rain are changes of temperature and electricity. The
latter principle is supposed to act most powerfully in the production
of thunder-showers, in which case it is not unlikely that a portion
of the air of the atmosphere is, by the passing of the lightning from
one cloud to another, converted into water. The former seems to be
the chief agent in the colder regions of the globe, where electricity
is either more equal in its distribution, or not so active in its
operations as in the warmer climates. From the beautiful theory
of the late Dr. James Hutton, supported by the researches of
professor Leslie, it appears, that “while the temperature advances
uniformly in arithmetical progression, the dissolving power which
this communicates to the air mounts with the accelerating rapidity
of a geometrical series;” and this in such a ratio, that the “air
has its dryness doubled at each rise of temperature answering to
fifteen centesimal degrees,” or twenty-seven of Fahrenheit. Hence,
“whatever be the actual condition of a mass of air, there must
always exist some temperature at which it would become perfectly
damp;” and hence whenever two streams of air saturated with moisture
of different temperatures are mixed together, or brush against one
another, in the form of different currents of wind, there must always
be a quantity of moisture precipitated. For if two masses of air, of
different temperatures, but equal in quantity, and both saturated
with moisture, were mixed together, the resulting temperature would
be nearly the mean of the two, but, at that temperature, the capacity
of air for moisture being less than the quantity contained in the two
commixed masses, the surplus must be deposited.
Rain is by no means common in the Polar countries excepting in the
months of July and August, and then only with southerly or westerly
winds. During all seasons of the year, however, with strong gales
blowing from a southern climate, rain is occasionally observed in
situations near the edge of the ice; but snow or sleet are more
common even under such circumstances; and in remote situations among
ice, near the 80th parallel of latitude, rain seldom or never occurs.
_Hail_ is a much more familiar meteor in temperate than in frigid
climates. In the Greenland Sea, this aqueous concretion is very
rarely seen; and if we define it as consisting of pellucid spheres of
ice, generated in the atmosphere, it may be said to be unknown in
very high latitudes. This fact is in favour of the electrical origin
of hail, as it is well-known to be common in temperate climates,
where the air is in a high state of electricity, and to be the
frequent concomitant of thunder and lightning. The only substance
resembling hail that is generated in the frigid zone consists of a
white, porous, spherical concretion of light and snowy texture.
_Snow_ is so very common in the arctic regions, that it may be boldly
stated, that in nine days out of ten, in April, May, and June,
more or less snow falls. With southerly winds, near the borders of
the ice, or in situations where humid air, blowing from the sea,
assimilates with a gelid breeze from the ice, the heaviest falls of
snow occur. In this case, a depth of two or three inches is sometimes
deposited in an hour. The thickest precipitations also frequently
precede sudden storms. The form of the particles of snow presents an
endless variety. When the temperature of the air is within a degree
or two of the freezing point, much snow falls, frequently consisting
of large irregular flakes, such as are common in Britain. Sometimes
it exhibits small granular, or large rough white concretions; at
others, it consists of white spiculæ, or rude stellated crystals. But
in severe frosts, though the sky appears perfectly clear, lamellar
flakes of snow, of the most regular and beautiful forms, are always
seen floating in the air, and sparkling in the sunbeams, and the snow
which falls in general is of most elegant texture and appearance.
Snow, of a reddish or brownish colour, is not unfrequently seen.
The brownish stain, which occurs on shore, is given by an earthy
substance brought from the mountains by the streams of water, derived
from thawing ice and snow, or the fall of rain. The reddish colour,
as far as I have observed, is given by the mute of birds; though,
in the example met with by captain Ross, in Baffin’s Bay, the stain
appears to have been of a vegetable nature. The little auk, (_Alca
alle_,) which feeds upon shrimps, is found, in some parts of the
Polar seas, in immense numbers. They frequently retreat to pieces
of ice, or surfaces of snow, and stain them all over red with their
mute. Martens saw red snow in Spitzbergen, which he considered as
being stained by rain-water running down by the rocks.
The extreme beauty and endless variety of the microscopic objects
procured in the animal and vegetable kingdoms, are perhaps fully
equalled, if not surpassed, in both particulars of beauty and
variety, by the crystals of snow. The principal configurations are
the stelliform and hexagonal, though almost every shape, of which
the generating angles of 60° and 12° are susceptible, may, in the
course of a few years’ observation, be discovered. The various
modifications of crystals may be classed under five general kinds,
or genera.
1. _Lamellar_, infinite in variety, most delicate in structure, and
capable of sub-division into several distinct species.
2. _A lamellar, or spherical nucleus, with spinous ramifications in
different planes._ This genus also consists of two or three species.
3. _Fine spiculæ, or six-sided prisms._ The finest specimens resemble
white hair, cut into lengths not exceeding a quarter of an inch.
4. _Hexagonal pyramids._ I have but once seen this kind of snow
crystal.
5. _Spiculæ, or prisms having one or both extremities inserted in the
centre of a lamellar crystal._ This genus resembles a pair of wheels,
united by an axle-tree.
In low temperatures, the greatest proportion of crystals that fall
are, probably, perfect geometrical figures.
Some of the general varieties in the figures of the crystals may
be referred to the temperature of the air; but the particular and
endless modifications of similar classes of crystals can only be
referred to the pleasure of the great First Cause, whose works, even
the most minute and evanescent, and in regions the most remote from
human observation, bear the impress of His own hand, and display to
his intelligent creatures his vast and beneficent wisdom. If, on
these forms of unintelligent matter, he has bestowed such excellent
workmanship, with how much more transcendent loveliness will he
clothe those who are redeemed by the exceeding riches of his grace,
and who, beyond the history and productions of all worlds, will
reflect the beauty of his glorious countenance!
_Frost-rime_, or frost-smoke, is a meteor peculiar to those parts of
the globe where a very low temperature prevails for a considerable
time. It consists of a dense frozen vapour, apparently arising out of
the sea, or any large sheet of water, and ascending, in high winds
and turbulent seas, to the height of eighty or one hundred feet,
but, in light breezes and smooth water, creeping along the surface.
The particles of which it consists are as small as dust, and cleave
to the rigging of ships, or almost any substance against which they
are driven by the wind, and afford a coating of an inch or upwards
in depth. These particles adhere to one another until the windward
surface of the ropes is covered, and form long fibres somewhat of a
prismatical or pyramidal shape, having their points directed towards
the wind. Frost-rime adheres readily to articles of clothing; and,
from the circumstance of its lodging in the hair, and giving it the
appearance of being powdered, the sailors humorously style it “the
barber.” Such of the frost-rime as is dislodged from the rigging
whenever the ship is tacked, covers the deck to a considerable
thickness, and, when trod upon, emits an acute sound, resembling the
crushing of fine particles of glass. The cause of this phenomenon,
which generally is not observed until the cold is reduced to 14°,
may perhaps be similar to that producing rain, and may be explained
according to Dr. Hutton’s theory.
An aqueous vapour, consisting of very minute frozen particles,
sometimes occupies the lower regions of the atmosphere in temperate
and frigid climates, during frosty weather, and is deposited on
the ground, on surfaces of ice, or almost any other substance with
which it comes in contact. This vapour seems to be of the nature of
_hoar-frost_; it generally appears in the evening, after a bright
sunshiny day.
_Fog_, or mist, is the last meteor that remains to be considered.
This is one of the greatest annoyances that the arctic whalers have
to encounter. It frequently prevails during the greater part of the
month of July, and sometimes, at considerable intervals, in June
and August. Its density is often such, that it circumscribes the
prospect to an area of a few acres, not being pervious to sight at
the distance of a hundred yards. It frequently lies so low that the
brightness of the sun is scarcely at all intercepted; in such cases,
substances warmed by the sun’s rays, give to the air immediately
above them increased capacity for moisture, by which evaporation goes
briskly on during the densest fogs. In Newfoundland, on occasions
when the sun’s rays penetrate the mist, and heat the surface of the
rocks, fish is frequently dried during the thickest fogs. Fogs are
more frequent and more dense at the borders of the ice than near the
coast of Spitzbergen. They occur principally when the mercury, in the
thermometer, is near the freezing point, but they are by no means
uncommon with the temperature of 40° or 45°. They are most general
with south-westerly, southerly, and south-easterly winds. They seldom
occur with high winds, yet in one or two instances I have observed
them very thick, even in storms. Rain generally disperses them. Fogs,
by increasing the apparent distances of objects, appear sometimes to
magnify men into giants, hummocks of ice into mountains, and common
pieces of drift-ice into heavy floes or bergs. They are an especial
annoyance to the whale-fisher, and greatly perplex the navigator,
by preventing him from obtaining observations for the correction
of his latitude and longitude, so that he often sails in complete
uncertainty. Fogs are more common near the ice than in the vicinity
of the land, more frequent in open seasons than in close seasons, and
more intense and more common in the southern fishing-stations than in
the most northern.