When they got to the tent the man threw off a little baby he had been carrying in a sling on his back. The mother had a bag of empty cans in her sack, which we recognized as coming from the Morrissey. With the few words we could understand, and a lot of motions and grinning—they are always awfully good-natured and nice—our friends told us they had been aboard the vessel and had been helping pump. She was at anchor on the other side of the island. It seemed she was only a few miles away.
So after we had given them a feed, mostly a big can of peas which they loved, Carl and Dad started to find the ship, leaving me to sleep. I forgot to say that we gave the Eskimo [[85]]some ham, which looked good and they showed us they would like a taste. But they did not like it at all. It was too salty. They use no salt in their meat, and can’t understand us liking it. “Nagga piook” they said, making funny faces. Which means, “No good.”
About midnight, eight hours or so later, I heard a yell and woke up to see the Morrissey out in the bay beyond where she had run aground. Dad and Carl were on board, and as the wind had gone down they had come around to get the stores.
I was sent aboard and Doc told me to go right to bed and keep as warm as possible. As my bunk was still pretty damp where it had been drowned out, I turned in to Dad’s bunk in the aft cabin, where the fire was going.
When I woke up we were under way and headed south. We planned to go back to Upernivik and beach the vessel there and make repairs. With so many on board it [[86]]seemed better to Cap’n Bob and Dad not to risk trying to make any repairs on the north side of Melville Bay, which is apt to be a very dangerous place to cross.
If the Morrissey had struck on a rising tide everything would have been all right. One often goes aground up here where hundreds of rocks and reefs aren’t shown on the charts and where all the information for sailors is terribly incomplete. But of course things like that always happen at the wrong time. It was just hard luck. When the wind came up it was either break up or get off.
I have written this in the after cabin as we cross Melville Bay going down to Upernivik. The boat has been in a terrible mess, but is pretty well straightened out now. And everyone has about caught up on sleep.
Around my bunk and Mr. Kellerman’s the boards are crushed in. That’s from the great strain put on the frame and beams when the boat laid on her side, so that when she moved [[87]]or gave a little the light inner framework of the bunks snapped.
Dad just asked me if I’d like to go again on another northern trip. And of course I said I would. Really my answer was “I’d like to go anywhere with Cap’n Bob.”
