On the 27th, every preparation was made for a possible abandonment of the vessel. A house was built on the floe, as a retreat in case the ship should be destroyed. For nearly two months the Polaris drifted southward at the mercy of the ice-pack, and was nipped near Little Island by October 13.
“At 5 A.M. of the 15th (October),” writes Admiral Davis in his “Narrative of the North Polar Expedition,” “a very heavy snow began to fall, and continued until 8 A.M., when the wind blew so hard that it was impossible to distinguish between the falling and drifting snow. The gale increased all day, driving the vessel with its surrounding ice with great rapidity. It commenced to blow from the S. E., but shifted to the S., and finally to the S. W. During its prevalence, the air was so completely filled with the flying snow that one could not see more than 20 or 30 feet. The ship had remained fast to the floe so long, and drifted with it so far, that no particular anxiety was felt as to the result.
“The captain had, however, always said that if the vessel passed through Smith Strait, he would not feel easy until the ice in which she lay, had joined the regular Baffin’s Bay pack.
“The ‘north-water,’ as it is called by whalemen, is always found in the northern part of Baffin Bay, and he knew that, were this safely crossed, the ship would float quietly down with the pack all winter, and be released in the spring far to the south.
“The direction in which the vessel was moving was a matter of speculation; the fact of her moving was admitted. The daily work being done, after dinner the men settled themselves down as usual for the enjoyments of the evening. At 6 P.M., it was reported that the starboard side of the vessel was free from ice. The captain turned out the crew, and secured the ship by an additional hawser to the floe. This extra hawser was over the stern and led from a large ice-anchor, sunk in the floe to the main-mast. Two hawsers had served during the whole of the drift to hold the Polaris to the floe, one over the bows and one over the stern. Final preparations were made to abandon the vessel, nearly everything had been got ready on deck; the seamen still had their clothes and personal effects to look after.
“The Polaris was driven along at a very rapid rate. Many eager faces looked over the rail and peered into the darkness and the gloom, wondering what would happen next. The sky was threatening. The moon struggled in vain to break through the clouds. Two icebergs were passed in close proximity. Some judgment could be formed by means of them as to the rapidity with which the vessel was moving. One could scarcely help shuddering as he thought of the consequences of running into one of those gigantic ice-mountains. One or two persons thought the land was visible, but it was very uncertain.
THE WRECK OF THE “POLARIS”
“At 7:30 the vessel ran among some icebergs, which brought up the floe to which she was attached; at the same time, the pack closed up, jamming her heavily; it was then the vessel secured her severest nip. It is hard to describe the effect of that pressure. She shook and trembled. She was raised up bodily and thrown over on her port side. Her timbers cracked with loud report, especially about the stern. The sides seemed to be breaking in. The cleat to which one of the after hawsers was attached snapped off, and the hawser was secured to the mast. One of the firemen, hurrying on deck, reported that a piece of ice had been driven through the sides. Escape from destruction seemed to be impossible. The pressure and the noise increased together. The violence of the night, and the grinding of the ice, added to the horror of the situation. Feeling it was extremely doubtful whether the ship would stand, Captain Buddington ordered provisions and stores to be thrown upon the ice. Then followed a busy scene. Each one was deeply impressed with the exigency of the moment, and exerted himself to the utmost. Boxes, barrels, cans, etc., were thrown over the side with extraordinary rapidity. Men performed gigantic feats of strength, tossing with apparent ease, in the excitement of the moment, boxes which at other times they would not have essayed to lift. Forward, coal and more substantial provisions and bags of clothing were thrown overboard; abaft, the lighter boxes of canned meats and tobacco, with all the musk-ox skins and fresh seal-meat, were transported to and fro. The cabin was entirely emptied, beds and bedding, clothes and even ornaments, were carried out. Messrs. Bryan and Meyer placed upon the floe the boxes containing all their note-books, observations, etc. This was done deliberately and after mutual consultation. The boxes were too large to be carried about, and, in the actual condition of things, the floe appeared to be decidedly the best place.
“The Eskimo women and children took refuge on the ice, and two boats were lowered and with a scow placed on the floe.
“The pressure had now become so great that the great floe itself had cracked in several places, and the vessel was gradually breaking its edge and bearing down the pieces. Many articles had been thrown in a heap near the ship, and it was found that some of the lower things in the pile were dropping through between the vessel and the ice. It was also seen that should the ship be cut through and sink, many, if not all these articles, would sink with her. A call was therefore made for these men to carry these articles to a safer place on the floe. There was no special designation for that duty; but Captain Tyson, taking several persons with him, at once entered on it. After laboring about one hour and a half, the decks were cleared and the men on board ship had finished their work. At 9:30 P.M., by some change in the ice, the starboard side was again clear; the vessel was free from pressure, and the cracks in the floe began to open.