July 1 found the expedition in 61° north latitude, passing the entrance between Norway and the Shetland Isles. “With that the German Ocean was left behind and the open sea reached, which already made itself felt by the peculiar ‘Atlantic swell.’”
On the 5th of July, at fifty minutes past eleven, the Germania passed the Arctic Circle, nearly under the meridian of Greenwich.
“A violent wind was blowing,” writes Captain Koldewey, “and with a speed of nine knots we entered the Arctic Ocean, which was to be our quarters for a whole year. The Hansa was some miles in advance of us, and was the first to unfurl the North German flag; at the same time firing one gun. We followed. Conformably to the custom, as on crossing the equator, Neptune came on board to welcome us, and wish us success on our voyage; of course not without all those who had not yet crossed the Arctic Circle having to undergo the rather rough shaving and christening customary on such occasions. The ceremony closed (as is usual on such occasions) with a good glass of wine, to wash away the evil effects of the cold water.”
On board the Hansa the proceeding was carried out much more scrupulously. Describing the frolic, Dr. Laube writes thus:—
“We entered into the spirit of the fun willingly, knowing that our sailors were decent fellows, and would not carry things too far, even had we not entered on the ship’s books with them in Breman, and become seamen. Our carpenter went about the whole day with a sly, laughing face, and towards evening had quite lost his usual chattiness. We ourselves kept in the cabin, so as not to witness the preparations. At midnight we were called on deck. A gun was fired, and as its thunder died away, we heard the well-known cry, ‘Ship ahoy!’ Three wonderful figures climbed over the bowsprit; Neptune first, in an Eskimo’s dress, with a great white cotton beard, a seven-pronged dolphin harpoon for a trident in one hand, and a speaking-trumpet in the other. A tarpaulin was spread on the quarter-deck, and a stool placed upon it. It looked like a judge’s bench. Here each of us was seated with eyes bound, while the masked followers of the northern Ruler went through the customary proceedings. I was soaped and shaved; god Neptune was most favorable to me; he knows what good cigars are, and has great respect for those to whom they belong. Then came the christening, which in this case was not applied to the head (as is usual) but to the throat and stomach. Neptune put some questions to me through his speaking-trumpet, desiring me to answer. I saw his object, answered with a short ‘Yes’ and then closed my lips. The mischievous waterfall rattled over me, causing universal merriment. They then took the bandage from my eyes, that I might see my handsome face in the glass; but instead of a looking glass, it was the combing of the wooden hatchway, which with great gravity was held before my face by the barber’s assistant. I was now absolved, and could laugh with the others, whilst seeing my comrades obliged to go through the same course one after the other.”
By the 9th of July, the expedition came in sight of the island of Jan Mayen. The midnight hours had now become perceptibly lighter; even in the cabin a lamp was no longer needed, and at twelve o’clock at night it was possible to read and write without difficulty. Fog and snow had already begun their rule of terror, and Captain Koldewey records three hundred and sixty-eight hours of fog from the 10th of July to the 1st of August.
The island of Jan Mayen lies in the middle of the wide, deep sea between Norway and Greenland, Iceland and Spitzbergen; and is distant about sixty geographical miles from the coast of Greenland. It was discovered and named after a Dutchman who visited it in the year 1611. It is nine miles in length and one mile in breadth, rocky and mountainous, with only two spots of flat beach suitable for landing-places. The northeast part rises to a height of six thousand eight hundred sixty-three feet, in the lofty Beerenberg, which has a large crater. In the year 1732, Burgomaster Anderson, of Hamburg, reported a decided eruption from a small side crater, and in 1818, Scoresby and another captain saw great pillars of smoke rising from the same place. Of this wonderful isolated, snow-covered peak, Lord Dufferin, in “Letters from High Latitudes,” wrote,—
“My delight was of an anchorite catching a glimpse of the seventh heaven.”
Jan Mayen lies so near the edge of the ice-fields, that from 1612 to 1640 it afforded the English and Dutch whale-fishers a comfortable station for their train-oil preparation. One ship is reported to have brought home one hundred and ninety-six thousand gallons of oil in a single year.