CHAPTER II.
Entrance into Sir James Lancaster's Sound of Baffin.—Uninterrupted Passage to the Westward.—Discovery and Examination of Prince Regent's Inlet.—Progress to the Southward stopped by Ice.—Return to the Northward.—Pass Barrow's Strait, and enter the Polar Sea.
We were now about to enter and to explore that great sound or inlet which has obtained a degree of celebrity beyond what it might otherwise have been considered to possess, from the very opposite opinions which have been held with regard to it. To us it was peculiarly interesting, as being the point to which our instructions more particularly directed our attention; and I may add, what I believe we all felt, it was that point of the voyage which was to determine the success or failure of the expedition, according as one or other of the opposite opinions alluded to should be corroborated. It will readily be conceived, then, how great our anxiety was for a change of the westerly wind and swell, which, on the 1st of August, set down Sir James Lancaster's Sound, and prevented our making much progress. Several whales were seen in the course of the day, and Mr. Allison remarked that this was the only part of Baffin's Bay in which he had ever seen young whales; for it is a matter of surprise to the whalers in general, that they seldom or never meet with young ones on this fishery, as they are accustomed to do in the seas of Spitzbergen.
The Griper continued to detain us so much, that I determined on making the best of our way to the westward, and ordered the Hecla to be hove to in the evening, and sent Lieutenant Liddon an instruction, with some signals, which might facilitate our meeting in case of fog; and I appointed as a place of rendezvous the meridian of 85° west, and as near the middle of the sound as circumstances would permit. As soon, therefore, as the boat returned from the Griper, we carried a press of sail, and in the course of the evening saw the northern shore of the sound looming through the clouds which hung over it.
The weather being clear in the evening of the 2d, we had the first distinct view of both sides of the sound; and the difference in the character of the two shores was very apparent; that on the south consisting of high and peaked mountains, completely snow-clad, except on the lower parts, while the northern coast has generally a smoother outline, and had, comparatively with the other, little snow upon it; the difference in this last respect appearing to depend principally on the difference in their absolute height. The sea was open before us, free from ice or land; and the Hecla pitched so much from the westerly swell in the course of the day, as to throw the water once or twice into the stern windows; a circumstance which, together with other appearances, we were willing to attribute to an open sea in the desired direction. More than forty black whales were seen during the day.
We made little way on the 3d, but being favoured at length by the easterly breeze which was bringing up the Griper, and for which we had long been looking with much impatience, a crowd of sail was set to carry us with all rapidity to the westward. It is more easy to imagine than to describe the almost breathless anxiety which was now visible in every countenance, while, as the breeze continued to a fresh gale, we ran quickly up the sound. The mastheads were crowded by the officers and men during the whole afternoon; and an unconcerned observer, if any could have been unconcerned on such an occasion, would have been amused by the eagerness with which the various reports from the crow's-nest were received; all, however, hitherto favourable to our most sanguine hopes.
Our course was nearly due west, and the wind still continuing to freshen, took us in a few hours nearly out of sight of the Griper. The only ice which we met with consisted of a few large bergs very much washed by the sea; and the weather being remarkably clear, so as to enable us to run with perfect safety, we were by midnight, in a great measure, relieved from our anxiety respecting the supposed continuity of land at the bottom of this magnificent inlet, having reached the longitude of 83° 12', where the two shores are still above thirteen leagues apart, without the slightest appearance of any land to the westward of us for four or five points of the compass.
Having made the ship snug, so as to be in readiness to round to should the land be seen ahead, and the Griper having come up within a few miles of us, we again bore up at one A.M., the 4th. At half past three, Lieutenant Beechey, who had relieved me on deck, discovered from the crow's-nest a reef of rocks, in-shore of us to the northward, on which the sea was breaking. The cliffs on this part of the coast present a singular appearance, being stratified horizontally, and having a number of regular projecting masses of rock, broad at the bottom, and coming to a point at the top, resembling so many buttresses, raised by art at equal intervals.
After lying-to for an hour, we again bore up to the westward, and soon after discovered a cape, afterward named by Captain Sabine, CAPE FELLFOOT, which appeared to form the termination of this coast; and as the haze, which still prevailed to the south, prevented our seeing any land in that quarter, and the sea was literally as free from ice as any part of the Atlantic, we began to flatter ourselves that we had fairly entered the Polar Sea, and some of the most sanguine among us had even calculated the bearing and distance of Icy Cape, as a matter of no very difficult or improbable accomplishment. This pleasing prospect was rendered the more flattering by the sea having, as we thought, regained the usual oceanic colour, and by a long swell which was rolling in from the southward and eastward. At six P.M., however, land was reported to be seen ahead. The vexation and anxiety produced on every countenance by such a report were but too visible, until, on a nearer approach, it was found to be only an island, of no very large extent, and that, on each side of it, the horizon still appeared clear for several points of the compass. At eight P.M. we came to some ice of no great breadth or thickness, extending several miles in a direction nearly parallel to our course; and as we could see clear water over it to the southward, I was for some time in the hope that it would prove a detached stream, from which no obstruction to our progress westerly was to be apprehended. At twenty minutes past ten, however, the weather having become hazy and the wind light, we perceived that the ice, along which we had been sailing for the last two hours, was joined, at the distance of half a mile to the westward of us, to a compact and impenetrable body of floes, which lay across the whole breadth of the strait, formed by the island and the western point of Maxwell Bay. We hauled our wind to the northward, just in time to avoid being embayed in the ice, on the outer edge of which a considerable surf, the effect of the late gale, was then rolling.
While the calm and thick weather lasted, a number of the officers and men amused themselves in the boats, in endeavouring to kill some of the white whales which were swimming about the ships in great numbers; but the animals were so wary, that they would scarcely suffer the boats to approach them within thirty or forty yards without diving. Mr. Fisher described them to be generally from eighteen to twenty feet in length; and he stated that he had several times heard them emit a shrill, ringing sound, not unlike that of musical glasses when badly played; This sound, he farther observed, was most distinctly heard when they happened to swim directly beneath the boat, even when they were several feet under water, and ceased altogether on their coming to the surface. We saw also, for the first time, one or two shoals of narwhals, called by the sailors sea-unicorns.
A steady breeze springing up from the W.N.W. in the afternoon, the ships stood to the northward till we had distinctly made out that no passage to the westward could at present be found between the ice and the land. The weather having become clear about this time, we perceived that there was a large open space to the southward, where no land was visible; and for this opening, over which there was a dark water-sky, our course was now directed.
Since the time when we first entered Sir James Lancaster's Sound, the sluggishness of the compasses, as well as the amount of their irregularity produced by the attraction of the ship's iron, had been found very rapidly, though uniformly, to increase as we proceeded to the westward; so much, indeed, that, for the last two days, we had been under the necessity of giving up altogether the usual observations for determining the variation of the needle on board the ships. This irregularity became more and more obvious as we now advanced to the southward, which rendered it not improbable that we were making a very near approach to the magnetic pole. For the purposes of navigation, therefore, the compasses were from this time no longer consulted; and in a few days afterward, the binnacles were removed as useless lumber from the deck to the carpenter's storeroom, where they remained during the rest of the season.
A dark sky to the southwest had given us hopes of finding a westerly passage to the south of the ice along which we were now sailing; more especially as the inlet began to widen considerably as we advanced in that direction: but at three A.M. on the morning of the 8th, we perceived that the ice ran close in with a point of land bearing S.b.E. from us, which appeared to form the southern extremity of the eastern shore.
With the increasing width of the inlet we had flattered ourselves with increasing hopes; but we soon experienced the mortification of disappointment. The prospect from the crow's-nest began to assume a very unpromising appearance, the whole of the western horizon, from north round to S.b.E., being completely covered with ice, consisting of heavy and extensive floes, beyond which no indication of water was visible; instead of which there was a bright and dazzling iceblink extending from shore to shore. The western coast of the inlet, however, trended much more to the westward than before, and no land was visible to the southwest, though the horizon was so clear in that quarter, that, if any had existed of moderate height, it might have been easily seen at this time at the distance of ten or twelve leagues. From these circumstances, the impression received at the time was, that the land, both on the eastern and western side of this inlet, would be one day found to consist of islands.
A breeze sprung up from the northward on the morning of the 12th, but the weather was so foggy for some hours that we did not know in what direction it was blowing. As soon as the fog cleared away, so as to enable us to see a mile or two around us, we found that the floe to which we had anchored was drifting fast down upon another body of ice to leeward, threatening to enclose the ships between them. We therefore cast off and made sail, in order to beat to the northward, which we found great difficulty in doing, owing to the quantity of loose ice with which this part of the inlet was now covered. A remarkably thick fog obscured the eastern land from our view this evening at the distance of five or six miles, while the western coast was distinctly visible at four times that distance.
The weather was beautifully calm and clear on the 13th, when, being near an opening in the eastern shore, I took the opportunity of examining it in a boat. It proved to be a bay, a mile wide at its entrance, and three miles deep in an E.b.S. direction, having a small but snug cove on the north side, formed by an island, between which and the main land is a bar of rocks, which completely shelters the cove from sea or drift ice. We found the water so deep, that in rowing close along the shore we could seldom get bottom with seven fathoms of line. The cliffs on the south side of this bay, to which I gave the name of PORT BOWEN, resemble, in many places, ruined towers and battlements; and fragments of the rocks were constantly falling from above. At the head of the bay is an extensive piece of low flat ground, intersected by numerous rivulets, which, uniting at a short distance from the beach, formed a deep and rapid stream, near the mouth of which we landed. This spot was, I think, the most barren I ever saw, the ground being almost entirely covered with small pieces of slaty limestone, among which no vegetation appeared for more than a mile, to which distance Mr. Ross and myself walked inland, following the banks of the stream. Among the fragments we picked up one piece of limestone, on which was the impression of a fossil-shell. We saw here a great number of young black guillemots, and a flock of ducks, which we supposed to be of the eider species.
The narwhals were here very numerous; these animals appear fond of remaining with their backs exposed above the surface of the water, in the same manner as the whale, but for a much longer time, and we frequently also observed their horns erect, and quite stationary for several minutes together.
The whole of the 14th was occupied in an unsuccessful attempt to find an opening in the ice to the westward, which remained perfectly close and compact, with a bright iceblink over it.
The ice continued in the same unfavourable state on the 15th; and being desirous of turning to some account this vexatious but unavoidable detention, I left the ship, accompanied by Captain Sabine and Mr. Hooper, in order to make some observations on shore, and directed Lieutenant Liddon to send a boat from the Griper for the same purpose. We landed in one of the numerous valleys or ravines which occur on this part of the coast, and at a few miles' distance very much resemble bays, being bounded by high hills that have the appearance of bluff headlands. We ascended with some difficulty the hill on the south side of the ravine, which is very steep, and covered with innumerable detached blocks of limestone, some of which are constantly rolling down from above, and afford a very insecure footing. From the top of this hill, which is about six or seven feet above the level of the sea, and commands an extensive view to the westward, the prospect was by no means favourable to the immediate accomplishment of our object. No water could be seen over the ice to the northwest, and a bright and dazzling blink covered the whole space comprised between the islands and the north shore. It was a satisfaction, however, to find that no land appeared which was likely to impede our progress; and we had been too much accustomed to the obstruction occasioned by ice, and too well aware of the suddenness with which that obstruction is often removed, to be at all discouraged by present appearances.
On the top of this hill we deposited a bottle containing a short notice of our visit, and raised over it a small mound of stones; of these we found no want, for the surface was covered with small pieces of schistose limestone, and nothing like soil or vegetation could be seen.
On the 17th we had a fresh breeze from the S.S.W., with so thick a fog that, in spite of the most unremitting attention to the sails and the steerage, the ships were constantly receiving heavy shocks from the loose masses of ice with which the sea was covered, and which, in the present state of the weather, could not be distinguished at a sufficient distance to avoid them. On the weather clearing up in the afternoon, we saw for the first time a remarkable bluff headland, which forms the northeastern point of the entrance into Prince Regent's Inlet, and to which I gave the name of CAPE YORK. A little to the eastward of Cape Fellfoot, we observed six stripes of snow near the top of the cliff, being very conspicuous at a great distance, when viewed from the southward. These stripes, which are formed by the drift of snow between the buttress-like projections before described, and which remained equally conspicuous on our return the following year, have probably at all times much the same appearance, at least about this season of the year, and may, on this account, perhaps, be deemed worthy of notice as a landmark.
There being still no prospect of getting a single mile to the westward, in the neighbourhood of Prince Leopold's Islands, and a breeze having freshened up from the eastward in the afternoon, I determined to stand over once more towards the northern shore, in order to try what could there be done towards effecting our passage; and at nine P.M., after beating for several hours among floes and streams of ice, we got into clear water near that coast, where we found some swell from the eastward. There was just light enough at midnight to enable us to read and write in the cabin.
The wind and sea increased on the 19th, with a heavy fall of snow, which, together with the uselessness of the compasses, and the narrow space in which we were working between the ice and the land, combined to make our situation for several hours a very unpleasant one.
On the 21st we had nothing to impede our progress but the want of wind, the great opening through, which we had hitherto proceeded from Baffin's Bay being now so perfectly clear of ice, that it was impossible to believe it to be the same part of the sea, which, but a day or two before, had been completely covered with floes to the utmost extent of our view. In the forenoon we picked up a small piece of wood, which appeared to have been the end of a boat's yard, and which caused sundry amusing speculations among our gentlemen; some of whom had just come to the very natural conclusion that a ship had been here before us, and that, therefore, we were not entitled to the honour of the first discovery of that part of the sea on which we were now sailing; when a stop was suddenly put to this and other ingenious inductions by the information of one of the seamen, that he had dropped it out of his boat a fortnight before. I could not get him to recollect exactly the day on which it had been dropped, but what he stated was sufficient to convince me that we were not at that time more than ten or twelve leagues from our present situation; perhaps not half so much; and that, therefore, here was no current setting constantly in any one direction.
We perceived, as we proceeded, that the land along which we were sailing, and which, with the exception of some small inlets, had appeared to be hitherto continuous from Baffin's Bay, began now to trend much to the northward, beyond Beechey Island, leaving a large open space between that coast and the distant land to the westward, which now appeared like an island, of which the extremes to the north and south were distinctly visible. The latter was a remarkable headland, having at its extremity two small table-hills, somewhat resembling boats turned bottom upward, and was named CAPE HOTHAM. At sunset we had a clear and extensive view to the northward, between Cape Hotham and the eastern land. On the latter, several headlands were discovered and named; between the northernmost of these, called CAPE BOWDEN, and the island to the westward, there was a channel of more than eight leagues in width, in which neither land nor ice could be seen from the masthead. To this noble channel I gave the name of WELLINGTON. The arrival off this grand opening was an event for which we had long been looking with much anxiety and impatience; for the continuity of land to the northward had always been a source of uneasiness to us, principally from the possibility that it might take a turn to the southward and unite with the coast of America. The appearance of this broad opening, free from ice, and of the land on each side of it, more especially that on the west, leaving scarcely a doubt on our minds of the latter being an island, relieved us from all anxiety on that score; and every one felt that we were now finally disentangled from the land which forms the western side of Baffin's Bay; and that, in fact, we had actually entered the Polar Sea.
Though two thirds of the month of August had now elapsed, I had every reason to be satisfied with the progress which we had hitherto made. I calculated upon the sea being navigable for six weeks to come, and probably more, if the state of the ice would permit us to edge away to the southward in our progress westerly: our prospects, indeed, were truly exhilarating; the ships had suffered no injury; we had plenty of provisions; crews in high health and spirits; a sea, if not open, at least navigable; and a zealous and unanimous determination, in both officers and men, to accomplish, by all possible means, the grand object on which we had the happiness to be employed.