July 18th.—Course run W. ¾ N. 65 miles. Early in the morning we had a fine breeze from the N. E. Latitude at noon, by an observation of the sun, 57°. 24′. N.; longitude, by our account, 41°. 17′. W. According to some charts, we considered ourselves this day to be in the longitude of Cape Farewell in Greenland. Nothing can exceed the uncertainty that prevails, in almost every chart and book of navigation, respecting the longitude of the Cape in question. In proof of this, I shall quote an extract from the accompanying Memoir to Mr. Purdy’s Chart of the Atlantic:—“Both the Requisite Tables, and Connaissance de Tems, state the latitude of Cape Farewell at 59°. 38′. N., and longitude, per chronometer, at 42°. 42′. W.; but the Danish charts place the Cape two degrees more to the West. We know not which is right, or if either; and have, doubtingly, placed it in 43°. 40′. W. as a mean between the two. This is a point on which further information is particularly required. The old books and charts place it from 44°. 30′. to 44°. 45′. W.”
Nothing can be a more serious inconvenience to mariners than this uncertainty respecting the latitude and longitude of places; and it is scarcely to be credited, that so little pains have been taken to ascertain the longitude of Greenland’s southernmost extremity.
We experienced sharp cold this day, and ascribed it to the winds having blown over the mountains of Greenland, on their way towards us. As the next three days furnished no remarks worthy an insertion in this narrative, I shall barely notice the course and distance run by the ship on each day; and the reader may thus pass on to the 22d.
July 19th.—Course run S. W. by W. ¾ W. 60 miles.
July 20th.—Course run W. by N. ¼ N. 68 miles.
July 21st.—Course run W. 67 miles.
July 22d.—Course run N. W. ½ N. 47 miles. As an indication of our drawing near to some land, we this morning picked up a broken tree, about eighteen feet long, of the yellow pine species. Although we could not have been less than three hundred miles from the nearest land, it certainly had not been long in the water. After night-fall, we were gratified with a most brilliant display of the Aurora Borealis.
July 23d.—Course run, N. N. W. ¾ W. 23 miles. Early in the morning we saw five Greenland ships, returning to England from the whale-fishery; and shortly afterwards we perceived two ships of war, in the N. W. quarter. At noon we spoke with His Majesty’s ships the Victorious and Horatio. They had been to Davis’ Straits, for the purpose of protecting the whale-fishery; and the former vessel exhibited a melancholy proof of the ill effects likely to result from the extreme state of ignorance in which our best navigators are placed, relative to the exact situation of the Northern lands. The Victorious had struck on a rock, in latitude 66°. 21′. N., longitude 53°. 47′. W.; entirely owing to the coast of Greenland having been laid down four degrees wrong in the Admiralty Charts. The consequences likely to result from the loss of a seventy-four-gun ship, in such a situation, may be easily imagined; allowing every man to have been safely conveyed on board the Horatio. The frigate must herself have been short of provisions at the moment; and in what possible way could the captain have provided for the subsistence of nearly six hundred people in addition to his own ship’s company, in a part of the world where he could not have formed the most distant hope of receiving a supply?—Fortunately, they were not destined to experience the horrors of so dreadful a situation; the Victorious was got off the rock again, without much difficulty: yet that her danger had been imminent cannot be doubted, as she was obliged to get a topsail under her bottom; and at the time when we met with her, there were some apprehensions that she might not reach England in safety; the leak being so bad, that the crew were compelled to labour incessantly at the pumps. The Horatio of course remained with her until she reached a British port.
After all that has been said respecting the erroneous state of even the Admiralty Charts for the Northern Seas, yet I do not imagine that the smallest imputation of neglect can be charged to Government upon that account. It has never yet been thought an object of sufficient national importance, to warrant an expenditure of the public money towards defraying the great expense that must necessarily be incurred in surveying thoroughly those frozen coasts which border upon Davis’ and Hudson’s Straits. The Greenland mariners are notorious for paying so little regard to the situation of the places they visit, that they are incapable of giving any correct information: and the officers of the Hudson’s-Bay ships have a motive in concealing the knowledge which they actually possess: this I shall notice more fully hereafter.
July 24th.—Course run, N. W. ½ W. 34 miles. This morning some slight indication appeared of a lasting fair wind. The fine mild weather that had prevailed for the last fortnight was far from affording satisfaction to the commanders of the Hudson’s-Bay ships; as they prognosticated much more difficulty in getting through Hudson’s Straits, the natural consequence of so much calm weather. It would have pleased them better to have encountered a few gales of wind, even if they had proved foul; as it requires strong winds to carry the drift ice out of the Straits, which is very likely otherwise to choke the passage. Entering Hudson’s Straits, it is a necessary precaution to keep close in with the northern shore; as the currents out of Hudson’s and Davis’ Straits meet on the south side of the entrance, and carry the ice with great velocity to the southward, along the coast of Labrador. We had seen, lately, a number of the kind of birds called, by the sailors, Boatswains: they are so numerous to the southward of the Tropic of Cancer, that they are called Tropic Birds. I cannot say whether they are accustomed to seat themselves upon the water or not; because our visitors flew at a great height over the ship, and we could plainly hear their melancholy screams by night as well as by day. Some amongst them have long feathers, like spikes, projecting from their tails; whilst others in the same flock, and evidently of the same species, are without them: perhaps these remarkable feathers may serve as distinguishing marks between the sexes. At noon this day we were in latitude 58°. 35′. N. longitude 49°. 10′. W. In the afternoon, the Moravian Missionary brig asked, and obtained permission, to part company: she then quitted us, and steered more away to the westward. During the stay of our ship at the Orkneys, I had visited the brig in question, and had there met with an old German Missionary; from whom I learned, that the difficulty of first getting on terms of intimacy with the Esquimaux was almost insurmountable. This Missionary had himself been one of the first who succeeded in so dangerous an object, which could only be accomplished by placing an entire confidence in this wild race of people: he therefore remained alone with them, conforming to their loathsome habits, and mildly endeavouring to gain an ascendancy over their minds. It was a considerable time before he dared to attack those established customs which, to him, appeared most exceptionable. Habit had sanctioned polygamy amongst them; although the nature of their climate, and the difficulty of procuring sustenance, had confined that privilege almost exclusively to their Chiefs. Passion was allowed to be pleaded successfully, in extenuation of murder. It was, therefore, with a trembling, but a resigned heart, that the Missionary first ventured to point out those practices as offences against the Great Spirit. “The Almighty,” said the good Moravian, “assisted my humble efforts, and my endeavours were crowned with success.” I shall also quote his own words as to the result:—“On the bleak and rocky coast of Labrador, a temple is now erected to the worship of God, in which the wild Esquimaux raises his voice in songs of praise to the Most High. Thirty years of my life have been dedicated to this employment; and I am now on my return, to finish my days amongst the flock which has been so manifestly entrusted to my care.”