The new ice was forming quickly and the barometer was dropping. So we began to move out to the mouth of the Sound, as Cap’n Bob wanted to get out of there before [[137]]we might have trouble with the ice in case of a storm. Of course if it had been earlier in the season we would have liked to stay in Jones Sound, where there certainly was good hunting.
We watched and watched, but saw nothing more. We were working easterly following along the edge of big fields of floe ice, that is, floating pans, some of them just little pieces a few yards square, and others perhaps a hundred feet or more, or a number of pans floating about together, partly joined by new ice. You could almost see this new ice forming. The thermometer I suppose was about 25 degrees, or perhaps colder. Little crystals gathered together in the quiet water and then there was a thin sheet of rubbery ice. As the boat moved through it the surface held with a lot of strength. It would wave as the ripples from the bow worked out under it, and took a lot of pressure before it actually broke.
Enjoying Our Atwater Kent Radio.
[[138]]
It was just about four o’clock in the morning and I was going to turn in. I was cold. But it had been fun staying up and I don’t think I ever saw anything so beautiful as that light on the ice and the calm grey water, with the snowy mountains and dark cliffs and white glaciers on both sides of the sound.
Dan was still working, cleaning up his walrus head. Dad was at the bow. Ralph was at the wheel, and Jim on lookout.
“Bear! Bear!”
Suddenly Ralph called that out, in a low voice.
Jim rang for the engine to stop and at once the Captain, who was below getting a nap after being up about twenty-four hours, came on deck.