Chapter 5 MELVILLE BAY AND THE NORTH WATER.

"Embark with me, while I new tracts explore,

With flying sails and breezes from the shore.

Not that my song, in such a scanty space,

So large a subject fully can embrace.

Not though I were supplied with iron lungs,

A hundred mouths, filled with as many tongues.

But steer my vessel with a steady hand,

And coast along the shore in sight of land.

Nor will I try thy patience with a train

Of preface, or what ancient poets feign."

Virgil.

Threading our way through narrow passages between numerous islands that lay to the eastward of Upernivik, and trusting to the knowledge and guidance of an Eskimo pilot, we felt at length that we had in reality, seen the last for some time, of our fellow men, and that our struggle with the almost insuperable difficulties of the frozen north was about to commence.

Preparations for an unsuccessful combat with the ice were made, and every precaution was adopted necessary to ensure the safety of the men, in cases of extreme emergency. The boats were prepared for immediate service, each man having his allotted station, so that little or no confusion would ensue if the abandonment of the ships should be decided upon-an event that was by no means improbable. Ice-saw crews were organized in readiness for cutting a dock, in case such a proceeding should become necessary for the protection of the vessels. Provisions and clothes were so arranged along the upper deck that they could easily and readily be thrown out on the ice at a moment's notice. Knapsacks, each containing two pairs of blanket wrappers, one pair of hose, one pair of stockings, one pair of mitts, one pair of drawers, a Welsh wig, a jersey, a comforter, a pair of moccasins, a towel and small piece of soap, were packed and placed in some handy position where they could be reached without delay. The necessary tackles for lifting the screw and unshipping the rudder were provided: in fact every preparation was made that could possibly be thought of to guard against accidents and to promote success in the forthcoming conflict.

On the morning after leaving Upernivik, on account of a dense fog, it was determined to anchor off one of the small islands composing a group through which we were passing, in order to wait for finer weather.

Our pilot, getting into his kayak, offered to pioneer us into a little bay with which he was intimately acquainted. Being totally unable to realize the difference of size between the large unwieldy "Alert" and his own frail little bark, and probably imagining that where he was able to go in his tiny boat, we also could do the same, he led us close in to the land, which, on account of the thick fog, was hidden from our view, and we soon had the annoyance of finding our ship hard and fast on shore. Fortunately we were going very slow at the time, so that no injury was sustained; but we remained immoveable for many hours until the flood-tide floated us and enabled us once more to proceed.

The dangers connected with a passage through Melville Bay are now so well known to all who have taken any interest in Arctic affairs, or who have devoted any time to the perusal of Arctic literature, that it is needless for me either to explain or dwell upon them at any length. Many a well-equipped ship has been caught in the fatal embrace of this bay. What tales of woe and disaster could its icy waters unfold, coupled, however, with deeds of heroic daring, endurance, and suffering!

Captain Nares, determining to avoid the ordinary passage through this once dreaded bay, the dangers of which in these days of steam have been so materially lessened, pushed his ships boldly through what is generally termed the "middle ice." This, at such a late season of the year, is undoubtedly a wise course; but woe to the unfortunate ship that at an earlier period should be caught in this moving pack, and be there detained for thirteen or fourteen months, as the little "Fox" was, under the command of Sir Leopold McClintock!

If the pack is composed of loose light ice, such as we found it to be, rendering a passage through it one of no difficulty, it may also be presumed that the ice in Melville Bay at the same time would be of the same consistency, thereby also affording an easy and safe passage through.

The reason that the passage by Melville Bay is always taken by the whalers is the existence of fixed land ice, which is found adhering to the shores, and in which it is easy to cut a dock for the preservation of the ship if the heavy pack is forced by wind, or otherwise, towards it, thereby endangering any vessel that may happen to be between the two. Directly the pack moves off the vessel is liberated and proceeds on her voyage.

It would be very different if the ship was caught in the pack. Then she would, in all probability, be severely handled, and being beset would drift to the southward with the ice and thereby lose all the hard-fought ground gained with so much labour and fatigue.

One of the most important maxims in ice navigation, which is strictly followed out by the whalers, is "stick to the land-ice."

We were certainly extremely fortunate in finding the pack so "loose" as to give us little trouble or difficulty in making progress. The ice was of a soft "brashy" nature, apparently only of one year's formation, and only from one to three feet in thickness. The weather being fine and calm, advantage was taken of it to steam full speed, for there was no saying how quickly the ice might pack with even a light breeze. The tow rope was accordingly cast off, and we proceeded at our highest rate of speed with the "Discovery" following close at our heels.

Occasionally our progress would be checked by a stream of ice extending across the lane of water through which we were steering; but through these obstructions we bored, or charged them at full speed, and thus cleared a way. A walrus and a few seals were seen on the ice, but their capture did not hold out sufficient inducement to detain the ship.

Very different from the apathy shown on passing these animals was the excitement exhibited when a bear, a veritable Polar bear, was seen on the ice. Such a rush for rifles and weapons of all descriptions! It was the first and only bear seen, and therefore the excitement its presence caused was natural. Every one appeared to share in it. Bear-skins were certainly on that day at a premium, for all were eager and anxious to become the fortunate possessor of such a prize. Master Bruin, however, did not reciprocate this feeling, and evinced an equal amount of anxiety to retain his nice warm coat.

The engines were immediately stopped, and the boats crammed with volunteer hunters. These landing on the ice, advanced upon their quarry in skirmishing order, while the ship, steaming round to the opposite side of the floe, endeavoured to cut off his retreat. All was ineffectual. Bruin's strategic abilities were of too high an order for us to cope successfully with him in his own territories, and he escaped. Many rounds of ammunition, however, were fired at him both from the party on shore and also by those on board the ship, in the faint hope that a lucky shot might bring him down. To this day there are many who seriously believe that he carried away with him a portion of the bullets they so lavishly expended. So keen were some in the ardour and excitement of the chase that they rushed on, heedless of the rotten and treacherous nature of the ice, until an immersion in the cold water brought them to a sense of their danger and compelled them to seek refuge on board the ship, wet, cold, and uncomfortable. Many little rotges (Alca alle) were flitting about from the ice to the water, and the beautiful ivory gull (Larus eburneus) was also seen for the first time.

POLAR BEARS.

In thirty-four hours from first encountering the ice we reached the North Water, and our troubles were for a time at an end. It was an unprecedented passage. Only seventy hours from Upernivik to Cape York!

Melville Bay, with all its terrors, was behind us; a beautifully smooth unruffled sea, devoid of all ice, was in front; everything pointed to success, and the hearts of all in the expedition beat high with joy and delight at the speedy prospect of attaining the utmost realization of their hopes. Large icebergs were around us in every direction; but what cared we then for icebergs? We had continuous day; the North Water had been reached; our way lay northwards. In a few short days the entrance of Smith Sound would be reached, the threshold of the unknown region crossed, and then onwards to-where? We did not dare to anticipate, but we felt that the first step towards success had been gained, and that we had commenced our real work under most propitious circumstances. We would not predict, but we determined to deserve, success.

It was, for many reasons, a matter of congratulation that this "North Water" had been so speedily and so successfully reached. Instead of only two or three weeks of the navigable season being available for us to penetrate the hidden mysteries of Smith Sound, owing to our rapid passage, we could reckon upon a clear month or five weeks before being compelled to secure our ship in winter quarters; besides which, our fuel had been very materially saved by this quick run, and this in itself, to ships situated as we were, was no unimportant matter.

On reaching the neighbourhood of Cape York, the "Discovery" was ordered to proceed shorewards for the purpose of communicating with the natives (the Arctic Highlanders of Sir John Ross), in the hope of inducing one of their number, a brother-in-law of Hans, to accompany the expedition; the "Alert" in the mean time shaping a course to the Cary Islands, at which latter place the "Discovery" was ordered to rejoin us.

The scenery, as we steamed along at a distance of about two miles from the shore, was most interesting. The hills along the coast were entirely clad with snow, whilst the long undulating ranges, as they receded far back to the horizon, appeared to be buried under the everlasting mer de glace. Numerous glaciers of various sizes, some of them being discharging ones, rolled down to the water's edge in one vast icy sheet. The width of one of these, the Petowik Glacier, is fully seven miles. Fragments from these lay scattered along the coast in every direction, whilst we had to thread our way through clusters of huge bergs of every form and size. Passing the crimson cliffs of Beverley, we were able to distinguish, in a few small patches, the so-called coloured snow whence the name originates; but not in the highly imaginative mass of bright colour depicted by Sir John Ross, in his interesting illustrated work describing his voyage to Baffin Bay. The question of the nature of this colouring matter on snow has now been definitely set at rest. It is an alga, the Protococcus nivalis.

We did not reach the Cary Islands so soon as we expected, in consequence of experiencing a strong S.E. current that had not been anticipated. A sudden rise of temperature of the surface water naturally led us to suppose that it must be due to the absence of ice, which, raising our spirits, made us regard with displeasure any hindrance to our progress.

Arriving off the Cary group early on the morning of the 27th, we were detained for a few hours landing a boat with a large dep?t of provisions, sufficient to sustain 60 men for two months, or 120 men for one month. The dep?t was placed on the easternmost island, and a large cairn was erected on the highest and most prominent point. Here also were deposited the last home letters which our friends were destined to receive until after our own arrival in England.

The dep?t was established as a safeguard for us to fall back upon in case of any accident happening to our vessels in Smith Sound. From this position it was expected that a party duly provisioned would have little difficulty in reaching the northern Greenland settlements, or at any rate the simple but hospitable natives of Cape York, who would, it was anticipated, afford us protection and assistance. This duty having been accomplished, and having been rejoined by our consort, the northward course was resumed.1

Crossing over to the eastward we steamed along on that beautifully clear sunny morning within a short distance of the western shores of Greenland. With the exception of icebergs, not a speck of ice was to be seen to disturb the smooth glassy surface of the sea. Passing the mouth of Whale Sound we made rapid progress northwards, steering between Northumberland and Hakluyt Islands, almost under their steep, precipitous, and in some places overhanging cliffs; on past Murchison Sound with the Crystal Palace glacier ahead, whilst on our port bow was easily discernible the opposite coast of Ellesmere Land, with the Prince of Wales Mountains, covered with snow or ice, rising above the western horizon.

It was indeed a glorious sight as we passed close to this little known land, opening out, as we proceeded, its many and large glaciers glittering white and radiant in the sunshine, growing, as it were, out of the clouds and rolling down grandly towards the sea, until the opaque masses plunged sullenly and silently into the deep blue water.

Animal life, so far as the feathered tribes were concerned, appeared in abundance. The lively little rotges or little auks (Alca alle) were seen in frequent clusters diving quickly under water as the ship approached. Looms (Uria Brunnichii), dovekies (Uria grylle), and king-ducks (Somateria spectabilis), alarmed at our appearance, rose in long flights, and circled around us uttering their discordant cries. The glaucous gull and the pretty kittiwake (Larus tridactylus) soared above our heads, whilst occasionally a graceful ivory gull (Larus eburneus) flapped its way leisurely along, its snowy wings contrasting with the background of clear blue sky. Here and there, on small fragments of floating ice, were seen huge walruses basking in the golden sunshine. Amid such scenes, which to be realized must be seen, the two vessels wended their way towards the entrance of Smith Sound, all elated with the fair prospect that was before them and hopeful for the future.

At half-past seven on the morning of the 28th of July both ships came to an anchor in Hartstene Bay, more commonly known as Port Foulke, the harbour in which Dr. Hayes wintered in 1860.

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1 The Cary Islands consist of a group of eight islands, besides small rocks or islets, and are situated in Baffin Bay, in lat. 76° 45′ N. They vary in size from two and a half miles in diameter downwards. They are composed of syenitic and porphyritic granite, overlaid in places with gneiss. They rise to a height of about 400 feet above the level of the sea, and possess a luxuriant vegetation, at least for these regions. They are much frequented as breeding places by the eider-ducks and looms.