“About noon the captain and second mate, who had been on the fore topsail yard all the morning, discovered clear sea again, to gain which we had to force a passage through dense masses of ice. It was here she sustained the principal damage to her stem and copper. We soon got clear and the rest of the day we saw no traces of ice and were very thankful we had got off so easily. But to our dismay at 8 p.m. we again fell in with it. The ship was put about and sail shortened for the night and we ran back to the clear water in which we had been sailing. At daybreak sail was made and at 7 a.m. we came up to the ice. At first it was only large pans much melted, the water having all the appearance of brine and being quite thick round them. Afterwards large masses of icebergs presented themselves. In grinding the ship through these, great difficulty was experienced—very large bergs were also interspersed and visible all round.
“This day we cleared it again about noon. Icebergs were still, however, seen both near and in the distance; their appearance was most grand, the largest being thought to be about 2 miles in circumference and 100 feet high. It was passed about 4 or 5 miles distant on our starboard and lee side.
“We hove to again at night. Next day, Saturday, was for the most part a dead calm and we were carried back with the current. There was not a breath of wind; a clear sky and beautiful weather, only the air sharp. Icebergs were, however, still seen. The next day, Sunday, we passed a number more, which were the last ice seen. One of these was most grand, being about 200 feet high. We cleared it on our port or windward side about a mile or less distant. The weather during this period was clear and fine. Indeed, the day before encountering the ice was beautiful, a fine light breeze which heightened towards evening and sea smooth. We were running close-hauled 14 knots an hour steadily during the night. The sun had set a deep crimson behind a bank of clouds over against Cape Horn.”
Red Jacket’s next three weeks’ runs averaged:—
| 4th week, | 205 miles per day. | |
| 5th week, | 237 miles per day. | (Mostly light breezes, squalls and rain.) |
| 6th week, | 224 miles per day. | (Easterly winds.) |
The line was crossed on 13th September, the Red Jacket having run 10,243 miles in 42 days, an average of 244 per day. She now had every hope of beating the record, but, alas, from here on she had nothing but calms and light head winds which drove her across into 43° W. and she was 31½ days from the line to port, reaching Liverpool on 15th October, after a passage of 73 days. This was considered an extraordinary performance, when allowance was made for the light weather experienced after crossing the line. During one whole week in the doldrums she averaged under 100 miles per day, and the two following weeks she only averaged 142 and 106 miles respectively.
The whole voyage, however, had been a wonderfully fast one. She had made the trip, out and home, in 5 months 10 days and 22½ hours, and had actually circumnavigated the globe in 62 days 22 hours, between 11th June and 2nd September, running 15,991 miles in that time.
On her homeward passage she ran 14,863 miles, her greatest day’s work being 376 miles and her average 202¼ miles per day.
She brought home gold dust and sovereigns to the value of £208,044. She sailed this voyage under the American flag, being only chartered by the White Star Line, but on her return to Liverpool Messrs. Pilkington & Wilson bought her for the sum of £30,000.