On the 31st, rations of rum were issued to help the men welcome in the new year. They were also to fire a salute with rifles. Fiddles were in full blast, with singing and other marks of hilarity.
Lockwood’s lecture on “Arctic Sledging” was given January 3, 1882, and was well received. Being confirmed in his opinion that he was no public speaker, he intended to leave lecturing for others thereafter. On the 9th he took his usual walk, notwithstanding the thermometer was at 60° below zero, and felt the cold chiefly on his nose. It seemed curious to him, that when the thermometer was lowest, the air was stillest. Were it otherwise, he supposed existence in the Arctic would be an impossibility.
But severe as was the weather, it did not deter him from the study of science, as will be seen by the following record, made on the 9th of January: “I have been looking up the subject of nautical astronomy for some time past, and to-day and this evening, taking sextant, mercury, etc., and establishing an observatory on top of an old barrel in front of the house, commenced observations on the transit of Markab, Capella, and other stars, but have not been very successful. Everything conspires against one in this climate. It reminds me of my observations last spring. However, I hope by dint of practice to do better. The winter is passing away slowly but surely. The time is coming when I shall look at these stars from grassy fields, on a summer night, in the temperate zone, I hope. The stars up here are very bright, and a great many of them circle around the pole and never set. It is a beautiful sight. Arcturus, Aldebaran, and others, besides being very bright, show different colors, red, violet, and green. Jupiter looks immense.”
Still absorbed with his astronomical studies, he gives us the following on the 13th of the same month: “The moon appeared after noon. How welcome she is! How a poet would rave over the moon could he once experience a polar winter!—not simply an Arctic winter, for anywhere north of the Arctic Circle is the Arctic, and the dark days which most expeditions have seen are trifling compared with ours. I think it would be a good idea to exile a first-class poet into these regions for the purpose, but give him to understand he was never to return. How he would sing!”
On the 12th, they had a phenomenon they had never heard of—the precipitation of vapor with a perfectly clear sky. It resembled a heavy mist or light rain.
On the 16th occurred the first hurricane of the season. It began in the morning with heavy south wind and sudden fall of barometer. At noon the wind whipped round to the northeast and blew with indescribable fury, filling the air with snow-drifts, and blotting out the view of everything even a few feet distant. The anemometer registered sixty-five miles, and then broke down. The noise of the storm, as heard from the house, was as though on shipboard. It must have given way but for the ice walls around it.
On the 20th, Lieutenant Greely issued a circular letter, calling attention to the order that all should be up for breakfast. Kislingbury and Dr. Pavy took exceptions to this, and the latter declined to lecture in his turn.
The next evening occurred a beautiful and unique auroral display, the chief features of which were many broad bands of pure white passing through the zenith and reaching to the east and to the west horizon, which blended, twisted, and curled in upon each other in a very remarkable manner. The spectacle was viewed with wonder and amazement.
On the 26th, the twilight at noonday was quite bright. The moon also lent her aid; but low spirits and a sense of oppression and homesickness prevailed, all induced, doubtless, by want of exercise, and loneliness.
“Another twenty-four hours,” wrote Lockwood, on the 6th of February, “of this interminable night nearly gone! Thank God! Sometimes it seems as if this life must hold on forever, but tempus fugit up here as well as elsewhere. The days and weeks seem weeks and months in passing, and yet, in the retrospect, time seems to have passed quickly, because there is so little in the past to mark its progress, I suppose.”