AT SEA.
The wind, which was uncertain, although in general favorable, was
blowing in genuine April squalls. The _Forward_ sailed rapidly, and
its screw, as yet unused, did not delay its progress. Towards three
o'clock they met the steamer which plies between Liverpool and the
Isle of Man, and which carries the three legs of Sicily on its
paddle-boxes. Her captain hailed them, and this was the last good-by
to the crew of the _Forward_.
At five o'clock the pilot resigned the charge of the ship to Richard
Shandon, and sailed away in his boat, which soon disappeared from
sight in the southwest.
Towards evening the brig doubled the Calf of Man, at the southern
extremity of the island of that name. During the night the sea was
very high; the _Forward_ rode the waves very well, however, and
leaving the Point of Ayr on the northwest, she ran towards the North
Channel.
[Illustration: "Towards evening the brig doubled the Calf of Man."]
Johnson was right; once at sea the sailors readily adapted themselves
instinctively to the situation. They saw the excellence of their
vessel and forgot the strangeness of their situation. The ship's
routine was soon regularly established.
The doctor inhaled with pleasure the sea-air; he paced up and down the
deck in spite of the fresh wind, and showed that for a student he had
very good sea-legs.
[Illustration]
"The sea is a fine thing," he said to Johnson, as he went upon the
bridge after breakfast; "I am a little late in making its
acquaintance, but I shall make up for my delay."
"You are right, Dr. Clawbonny; I would give all the land in the world
for a bit of ocean. People say that sailors soon get tired of their
business; but I've been sailing for forty years, and I like it as well
as I did the first day."
"What a pleasure it is to feel a stanch ship under one's feet! and, if
I'm not mistaken, the _Forward_ is a capital sea-boat."
"You are right, Doctor," answered Shandon, who had joined the two
speakers; "she's a good ship, and I must say that there was never a
ship so well equipped for a voyage in the polar regions. That reminds
me that, thirty years ago, Captain James Ross, going to seek the
Northwest Passage--"
"Commanded the _Victory_," said the doctor, quickly, "a brig of about
the tonnage of this one, and also carrying machinery."
"What! did you know that?"
"Say for yourself," retorted the doctor. "Steamers were then new
inventions, and the machinery of the _Victory_ was continually
delaying him. Captain Ross, after in vain trying to patch up every
piece, at last took it all out and left it at the first place he
wintered at."
"The deuce!" said Shandon. "You know all about it, I see."
"More or less," answered the doctor. "In my reading I have come across
the works of Parry, Ross, Franklin; the reports of MacClure, Kennedy,
Kane, MacClintock; and some of it has stuck in my memory. I might add
that MacClintock, on board of the _Fox_, a propeller like ours,
succeeded in making his way more easily and more directly than all his
successors."
"That's perfectly true," answered Shandon; "that MacClintock is a good
sailor; I have seen him at sea. You might also say that we shall be,
like him, in Davis Strait in the month of April; and if we can get
through the ice our voyage will be very much advanced."
"Unless," said the doctor, "we should be as unlucky as the _Fox_ in
1857, and should be caught the first year by the ice in the north of
Baffin's Bay, and we should have to winter among the icebergs."
"We must hope to be luckier, Mr. Shandon," said Johnson; "and if, with
a ship like the _Forward_, we can't go where we please, the attempt
must be given up forever."
"Besides," continued the doctor, "if the captain is on board he will
know better than we what is to be done, and so much the better because
we are perfectly ignorant; for his singularly brief letter gives us no
clew to the probable aim of the voyage."
"It's a great deal," answered Shandon, with some warmth, "to know what
route we have to take; and now for a good month, I fancy, we shall be
able to get along without his supernatural intervention and orders.
Besides, you know what I think about him."
"Ha, ha!" laughed the doctor; "I used to think as you did, that he was
going to leave the command of the ship in your hands, and that he
would never come on board; but--"
"But what?" asked Shandon, with some ill-humor.
"But since the arrival of the second letter, I have altered my views
somewhat."
"And why so, doctor?"
"Because, although this letter does tell you in which direction to go,
it still does not inform you of the final aim of the voyage; and we
have yet to know whither we are to go. I ask you how can a third
letter reach us now that we are on the open sea. The postal service on
the shore of Greenland is very defective. You see, Shandon, I fancy
that he is waiting for us at some Danish settlement up there,--at
Holsteinborg or Upernavik. We shall find that he has been completing
the supply of seal-skins, buying sledges and dogs,--in a word,
providing all the equipment for a journey in the arctic seas. So I
shall not be in the least surprised to see him coming out of his cabin
some fine morning and taking command in the least supernatural way in
the world."
"Possibly," answered Shandon, dryly; "but meanwhile the wind's
freshening, and there's no use risking our topsails in such weather."
Shandon left the doctor, and ordered the topsails furled.
"He still clings to that idea," said the doctor to the boatswain.
"Yes," was the answer, "and it's a pity; for you may very well be
right, Dr. Clawbonny."
Towards the evening of Saturday the _Forward_ rounded the Mull of
Galloway, on which the light could be seen in the northeast. During
the night they left the Mull of Cantire to the north, and on the east
Fair Head, on the Irish coast. Towards three o'clock in the morning,
the brig, passing Rathlin Island on its starboard quarter, came out
from the North Channel into the ocean.
That was Sunday, April 8. The English, and especially sailors, are
very observant of that day; hence the reading of the Bible, of which
the doctor gladly took charge, occupied a good part of the morning.
[Illustration]
The wind rose to a gale, and threatened to drive the ship back upon
the Irish coast. The waves ran very high; the vessel rolled a great
deal. If the doctor was not sea-sick, it was because he was determined
not to be, for nothing would have been easier. At midday Malin Head
disappeared from their view in the south; it was the last sight these
bold sailors were to have of Europe, and more than one gazed at it for
a long time who was doubtless fated never to set eyes on it again.
[Illustration]
By observation the latitude then was 55 degrees 57 minutes, and the
longitude, according to the chronometer, 7 degrees 40 minutes.[1]
[Footnote 1: Meridian of Greenwich.]
The gale abated towards nine o'clock of the evening; the _Forward_, a
good sailer, kept on its route to the northwest. That day gave them
all a good opportunity to judge of her sea-going qualities; as good
judges had already said at Liverpool, she was well adapted for
carrying sail.
During the following days, the _Forward_ made very good progress; the
wind veered to the south, and the sea ran high. The brig set every
sail. A few petrels and puffins flew about the poop-deck; the doctor
succeeded in shooting one of the latter, which fortunately fell on
board.
[Illustration]
Simpson, the harpooner, seized it and carried it to the doctor.
"It's an ugly bird, Dr. Clawbonny," he said.
"But then it will make a good meal, my friend."
"What, are you going to eat it?"
"And you shall have a taste of it," said the doctor, laughing.
"Never!" answered Simpson; "it's strong and oily, like all sea-birds."
[Illustration]
"True," said the doctor; "but I have a way of dressing such game, and
if you recognize it to be a sea-bird, I'll promise never to kill
another in all my life."
"So you are a cook, too, Dr. Clawbonny?" asked Johnson.
"A learned man ought to know a little of everything."
"Then take care, Simpson," said the boatswain; "the doctor is a clever
man, and he'll make us take this puffin for a delicious grouse."
In fact, the doctor was in the right about this bird; he removed
skilfully the fat which lies beneath the whole surface of the skin,
principally on its thighs, and with it disappeared all the rancid,
fishy odor with which this bird can be justly charged. Thus prepared,
the bird was called delicious, even by Simpson.
During the recent storm, Richard Shandon had made up his mind about
the qualities of his crew; he had tested his men one by one, as every
officer should do who wishes to be prepared for future dangers; he
knew on whom he could rely.
James Wall, who was warmly attached to Richard, was intelligent and
efficient, but he had very little originality; as second officer he
was exactly in his place.
Johnson, who was accustomed to the dangers of the sea, and an old
sailor in arctic regions, lacked neither coolness nor courage.
Simpson, the harpooner, and Bell, the carpenter, were steady men,
obedient and well disciplined. The ice-master, Foker, an experienced
sailor, who had sailed in northern waters, promised to be of the
greatest service.
Of the other men, Garry and Bolton seemed to be the best; Bolton was a
jolly fellow, always laughing and joking; Garry, a man about
thirty-five years old, had an energetic, but rather pale and sad face.
[Illustration]
The three sailors, Clifton, Gripper, and Pen, seemed to be the least
enthusiastic and determined; they were inclined to grumbling. Gripper
had even wished to break his engagement when the time came for
sailing, and only a feeling of shame prevented him. If things went
well, if they encountered no excessive dangers, and their toil was not
too severe, these three men could be counted on; but they were hard to
please with their food, for they were inclined to gluttony. In spite
of their having been forewarned, they were by no means pleased with
being teetotalers, and at their meals they used to miss their brandy
or gin; but they made up for it with the tea and coffee which were
distributed with a lavish hand.
As for the two engineers, Brunton and Plover, and the stoker, Warren,
they had been so far well satisfied with having nothing to do.
Shandon knew therefore what to expect from each man.
On the 14th of April, the _Forward_ crossed the Gulf Stream, which,
after following the eastern coast of America as far as Newfoundland,
turns to the northeast and moves towards the shore of Norway. They
were then in latitude 51 degrees 37 minutes, and longitude 22 degrees
37 minutes, two hundred miles from the end of Greenland. The weather
grew colder; the thermometer fell to 32 degrees, the freezing-point.
The doctor, without yet putting on his arctic winter dress, was
wearing a suit of sea-clothes, like all the officers and sailors; he
was an amusing sight in his high boots, in which he could not bend his
legs, his huge tarpaulin hat, his trousers and coat of the same
material; in heavy rain, or when the brig was shipping seas, the
doctor used to look like a sort of sea-monster, a comparison which
always flattered him.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
For two days the sea was very rough; the wind veered to the northwest,
and delayed the _Forward_. From the 14th to the 16th of April there
was still a high sea running; but on Monday there fell a heavy shower
which almost immediately had the effect of calming the sea. Shandon
called the doctor's attention to it.
"Well," said the doctor, "that confirms the curious observations of
the whaler Scoresby, who was a member of the Royal Society of
Edinburgh, of which I have the honor to be a corresponding member. You
see that while the rain is falling the waves are hardly to be noticed,
even when the wind is strong. On the other hand, in dry weather the
sea would be rougher even with a gentler wind."
"But what is the explanation of it, Doctor?"
"It's very simple; there is no explanation."
At that moment the ice-master, who was on watch in the topmast
cross-trees, cried out that there was a floating mass on the starboard
quarter, about fifteen miles to windward.
[Illustration]
"An iceberg in these latitudes!" cried the doctor.
Shandon turned his glass in that direction, and corroborated the
lookout's words.
"That's strange," said the doctor.
"Are you surprised?" asked the commander, laughing. "What! are we
lucky enough to find anything that will surprise you?"
"I am surprised without being surprised," answered the doctor,
smiling, "since the brig _Ann Poole_, of Greenspond, was caught in the
ice in the year 1813, in the forty-fourth degree of north latitude,
and Dayement, her captain, saw hundreds of icebergs."
"Good," said Shandon; "you can still teach us a great deal about
them."
"O, not so very much!" answered Clawbonny, modestly, "except that ice
has been seen in very much lower latitudes."
"That I know, my dear Doctor, for when I was a cabin-boy on the
sloop-of-war, _Fly_--"
"In 1818," continued the doctor, "at the end of March, or it might
have been the beginning of April, you passed between two large fields
of floating ice, in latitude forty-two."
"That is too much!" exclaimed Shandon.
"But it's true; so I have no need to be surprised, now that we are two
degrees farther north, at our sighting an iceberg."
"You are bottled full of information, Doctor," answered the commander;
"one needs only draw the cork."
"Very well, I shall be exhausted sooner than you think; and now,
Shandon, if we can get a nearer view of this phenomenon, I should be
the gladdest of doctors."
"Exactly, Johnson," said Shandon, summoning the boatswain; "I think
the wind is freshening."
"Yes, Commander," answered Johnson, "we are making very little
headway, and soon we shall feel the currents from Davis Strait."
"You are right, Johnson, and if we mean to make Cape Farewell by the
20th of April, we must go under steam, or we shall be cast on the
coast of Labrador.--Mr. Wall, give the order to light the fires."
The mate's orders were obeyed; an hour later the engines were in
motion; the sails were furled; and the screw, turning through the
waves, was driving the _Forward_ rapidly in the teeth of the northwest
wind.