By aid of the North Kent Railway an hour is more than enough for the
journey from London to the dockyard at Woolwich. On a bright morning in
April, we crossed the paved court of the dockyard in search of the four
ships that were being made ready to go in search of the lost Sir John
Franklin and his companions—now four years unheard of, and believed to
be frozen up in the regions of thick-ribbed ice at the North Pole. Two
of the Arctic ships were put in dry dock, and two afloat in the river.
The names of the ships as put together by an old sailor in our hearing,
express their mission. The ‘Resolute,’ ‘Intrepid,’ ‘Pioneer,’ goes with
‘Assistance’ to Sir John Franklin and his frozen-up pack.
We had followed the workman with the artificial memory, and by this time
stood beside the dry dock in which one of the vessels, the ‘Pioneer,’ a
steamer, was fixed upright and out of water. There she stood in a fine
massive granite basin, the sides of which were fashioned into steps.
Down there we went, and then walked round and under her from stem to
stern, and in doing so, could see what preparation had been made to fit
her for the duty she had to do. This steamer had been in the foreign
cattle trade, and had brought, it seems, many a drove from the fields of
Flanders, and from the hills of Spain, to make fatal acquaintance with
the abominations of Smithfield. Bought out of that unsavoury service as
a strong capable steamship, she had been placed in this granite cradle,
and been swathed outside with tarred felt, upon the top of which
additional planking was then fixed. Upon her bows where the shock of the
ice would be most severe, another layer of felt was then applied, and
over this was riveted tough sheets of iron. With this metal casing her
stem was complete. At her stern, as she stood thus out of water, we had
an excellent opportunity of inspecting the screw by which she was to be
impelled. This was of a brazen compound metal prepared with a view to
great strength and toughness; but as its blows upon the stray floating
ice might injure it, another screw of iron was on board to replace it
should it be broken when out of reach of dockyard help. Having passed
round the vessel, and looked up at her huge bulging sides, we ascended
the stone steps, and walking along a plank from the dock side, boarded
the ‘Pioneer,’ to see—after such outside preparations—what care had been
taken with the inside of the ship. It was soon evident that the felting
and planking of the exterior had been matched by a similar felting and
planking of the interior; with this difference, that inside the felt was
untarred. These additions to the thickness of her sides to make her firm
and warm, had been followed by another contrivance, to give her still
further ability to withstand any crushing weight she might have to
endure. Strong beams had been placed aslant, from her keel and her
decks, outwards and upwards towards her sides; and lastly, her decks had
been doubled; so that, thus secured, she became almost as capable of
resisting outward pressure as a solid block of oak. Having thus
strengthened this floating fortress against the fierce assaults of the
Giant Frost, we turned to look how they had stored it to withstand the
beleaguering siege of—it may be—a two or three years’ Arctic winter.
Here we found an ample field for wonder and admiration. Surely human
ingenuity and ships’ stowage were never better displayed. Every inch of
space had been made the most of. In the centre of the vessel were her
engines, cased round with iron, so that outside them could be stowed
away no less than 85 tons of patent compressed fuel to feed the fires.
Thus surrounded, the engines were literally bedded in a small coal-mine,
for their own consumption.
The danger to be apprehended from the close contiguity of so much
combustible material to the engine-fire is obviated, in case of
accident, by eight pumps on the decks and two patent pumps below,
besides others in the engine-rooms. There are fourteen pumps altogether,
which can be handled in case of fire or leakage. Some of these are
worked by the engine, some are placed in warm berths below, so that the
men may have exercise at them without exposure on deck. Nearly all these
pumps work independently of each other, so that if one is deranged, it
does not hurt the rest.
The question as to how the ship is to be kept warm?—was answered by our
being conducted deep down into the hold; there we found a patent stove,
so constructed that pure air was admitted by pipes to its neighbourhood,
and being heated there was passed through other pipes through all parts
of the ship, until having lost much of its heat and more of its purity,
it was allowed to escape, and was replaced by another stream of pure air
to be warmed, and used and replaced again; so on from day to day while
the ships remained in the ice. This warming apparatus, the 85 tons of
fuel, the four years’ provisions, and the Bolton and Watt’s engines
occupied, in spite of the most perfect stowage, so much room, that it
was puzzle to know where the water was stowed.
It was, however, explained that 85 tons of coal round the engine is not
all that must go. The ship will take 200 tons of coal altogether, but
won’t want much water room, for along with the engine is a contrivance
for melting ice for use whilst the ships are locked in.
The salt sea there is a surface of ice that comes direct from Heaven.
The snow is not salted, and the fires will melt the snow-made-ice for
the ship’s use.
Having learned all these particulars as to the essentials of warm air,
and good water, and having heard an account of the four years’
provisions, with a certainty that there was a still further supply near
the Copper Mine River in case of need: and having learned also that the
doctors had got ample supplies of lime-juice and lemon-juice to keep off
the scurvy, and that they had mixed it with alcohol to render it less
liable to freeze; having seen, too, that the purser, thoughtful man, had
not forgotten to order in some sound-looking casks of pale sherry, and
some cases that had an agreeable champagney French look, and these
sights having strengthened the hope that the brave men who were to take
these ships on their perilous duty would have their hearts warmed by a
glass of generous wine when they drank to absent friends next Christmas
Day—we had time to glance over what may be called the miscellaneous
stores for the voyage. These made a picture, indeed. Everything of every
possible kind seemed to be there, and to have been multiplied by two.
Thus there were two screw propellers, and two rudders, and two funnels.
And then there were certainly twice two dozen ice-saws (with teeth an
inch long and handles eight feet wide), and ice-hatchets enough
apparently to slay any number of Polar bears who might feel inclined to
call upon this ‘Pioneer’ during his visit to their neighbourhood.
Between decks the place looked like a mingled establishment made up of a
rope-walk, a sailmaker’s, a currier’s, a brushmaker’s, a dreadnought
clothier’s, a cooper’s, and a very extensive oil and colour warehouse.
There were certainly goods enough pertaining to all these various trades
to set up one man of each with an abundant stock in any street in
Bermondsey he might select. Over head, there was a ceiling of oars and
spare spars, and handspikes, and capstan-bars; at the sides, rows of
blocks, and lanthorns, and cans, and paint-brushes; and under-foot, bars
of iron cased with neatly-sewed leather. This last peculiarity, indeed,
was observable in many parts of the ship. Wherever there was any iron it
was neatly cased over with leather, to secure those who might have to
handle it in the Polar seas from the well-known consequences of touching
naked iron in those latitudes,—for cold iron there, like red-hot iron
elsewhere, damages the fingers of those rash enough to touch it.
This abundance to overflow of stores extended itself even to the
commander’s cabin, for every inch of space was important. That spot,
however, showed no confusion or cramming, though he had near him two of
the most dangerous commodities in his ship,—underneath his _sanctum_ was
a store of ardent spirits, and astern of it a small magazine of
gunpowder.
The engines of the ‘Pioneer’ are 60-horse power, and as she now is she
will not run very fast without her sails, but with wind and steam she
will make eleven knots an hour. The two steamers—the ‘Pioneer’ and the
‘Intrepid’—are to go as tenders to the sailing ships, and to tow them in
the still waters at the Pole, for there when there is no wind there are
no waves.
We left the ‘Pioneer’ to look over her companion ships. The ‘Intrepid’
was being arranged on the same system; the others, the ‘Assistance’ and
the ‘Resolute,’ were afloat at the dock side, and, being sailing ships,
had of course none of their space filled by engines, and, therefore,
seemed rather more roomy. Yet, having seen one Arctic ship, we had seen
the whole. We heard of gutta-percha sledges to be used on the ice, and
of small pilot balloons to be inflated and sent over the frozen regions
of the Pole, and which, as they float in the air, are to drop printed
slips—words of hope and news of succour—in anticipation that some of
these paper messages may reach the frozen-in, lost, mariners, Sir John
Franklin and his crew. We heard, also, that the sailing ships would each
have a crew of about sixty-five men, and the steamers each about
twenty-five, including others. But every one was so busy on board these
sailing ships, and their work was so holy in its intent, that we were
unwilling to disturb either officer or man with many questions; and so
made our way again London-wards.
The last thing we noticed on board these Arctic ships was an inscription
that glittered in the sunshine of that April afternoon, for the words
were carved in letters of brass on the steersman’s wheel that is to
guide the vessels on their perilous way. And our last feeling was that
the hope contained in the words would be realised. The words so written
are:—ENGLAND EXPECTS EVERY MAN TO DO HIS DUTY.