Here it is, from the very start, quite evident to the antarctic explorer that he incurs a great risk by attacking the ice. To the south, as far as the eye can survey, he sees nothing but ice, and by experience he knows that he has to contend with a frozen ocean, agitated by storm. If his vessel should by chance be hemmed in, and possibly crushed by the ice, what ways of escape would there be open to him? The possibility of reaching land in small, open boats he certainly does not consider very great. The chance of finding human beings on new land possibly to be discovered farther south, cut off from the rest of the world by immense masses of ice, appears to be even less probable. This is, I suppose, the reason why earlier explorers have not dared to attack the ice in these regions.
It was a north-easterly gale that, on the 28th of February, 1898, forced us through the ice. Comparing this ice with that which I came across on my sealing expeditions in the arctic seas on the eastern coast of Greenland, the difference was at once apparent. While we find in the arctic ice channels and lakes several miles in length, formed by the rapid currents prevailing there, in the antarctic ice we do not find any signs of similar formations. The spaces which we found here were intermediate spaces between each separate floe of ice, broken up by the storm and carried away from its original position.
What, above all, struck me after being imprisoned in the antarctic ice was the “indolence” of the ice—that is to say, its stagnation or indisposition to move within its own bounds. That the entire main body of the ice was in lively motion soon became evident from the nautical observations, but the movements within its compass were very slight. The cause of this lack of local movement of the ice may, no doubt, be traced to the nature of the current. That currents exist here, as everywhere, is not to be doubted, but they must be very insignificant, and are surely without any importance to navigation.
From the month of December, 1898, up to March, 1899, easterly winds were predominating, and these caused a very considerable drifting of the ice. In the course of these three months we drifted in this way from about 87° longitude west of Greenwich as far as to 103°, or a distance of about 950 kilometres (this distance is calculated in a straight line on the seventy-first parallel circle). That this easterly wind, which prevailed for such a length of time and mostly with great violence, was no local wind, we can safely assume. Its place of origin was no doubt the regions around Grahamland and Alexander Islands. This gives me further cause to believe that the sea along the western coast of these countries was perfectly navigable during the months of February and March, 1899. But there is no reason whatever to suppose that this is the case every year. On the contrary, previous expeditions have always found this part of the antarctic drift-ice completely closed. We, on board of the Belgica in February, 1898, also found within the drift-ice along these countries absolutely no navigable water. If a future expedition were to choose the same region where the Belgica did its work for a field of investigation, my unqualified advice to it would be to linger for some time near the coast of these countries, awaiting a separation of the ice from the land. What a great advantage there would be in navigating alongshore! Possibly harbours might be discovered, stations built, and depots established, and one would then always have something to depend on. During our drift in the ice we never dared venture on foot so far out as to lose sight of our ship. It would be wholly different if there were regular stations from which to start the work. We could then safely proceed southward with a sleigh-boat and possibly accomplish fine results, for the antarctic ice, compared to the arctic ice which I have had a chance to observe, is much more level and even, and consequently easier to traverse.
I see a great advantage in having two vessels, but in that case it is necessary that both of them should be exactly on the same level in regard to power and outfit, as, in my opinion, the idea of taking along a so-called “auxiliary vessel,” which in some respect or other is inferior to the principal ship, is to be entirely rejected. The principal ship, in that case, might sometimes have to perform the duty of a tugboat and take the auxiliary vessel in tow. In order that two vessels of this kind should be able to make any headway in the drift-ice, they would always have to be within sight of each other, and one of them being inferior to the other, it is easy to understand that it would be more of a hindrance than a help. It would be altogether different if we could start our work from regular stations. Then one vessel might be stationed on the coast as a reserve ship while the other pressed onward; but as long as our knowledge of the antarctic regions remains so insignificant as at present, we must, in order to work with expectation of success, employ only first-class equipment, which by experience has been proved effective.
The Belgica entering the antarctic pack-ice was the first ship to make the venture on this side of the globe. Almost nothing was previously known about the character of the ice of this region. Now the situation is entirely changed.
The ice has been tried and examined, and observations have been made which may prove of invaluable service to future expeditions.
Appendix No. VI
THE POSSIBILITIES OF ANTARCTIC EXPLORATION
BY