This pack was composed of the heaviest ice-fields that I had hitherto seen, and its margin, trending to the northeast and southwest, arrested our further progress toward the western shore. Many of the floes were from two to ten feet above the water, thus indicating a thickness of from twenty to a hundred feet. Had they been widely separated, I should have attempted to force a passage; but they were too closely impacted to allow of this being done with any chance of safety to the schooner.
The ice appeared to be interminable. No open water could be discovered in the direction of Cape Isabella. The wind, being from the northeast, did not permit of an exploration in that direction; so we ran down to the southwest, anxiously looking for a lead, but without discovering any thing to give us encouragement.
STOPPED BY THE PACK.
We were not, however, permitted to come to any conclusions of our own as to what course we should pursue, for the most furious gale that it has ever been my fortune to encounter broke suddenly upon us, and left us no alternative but to seek shelter under the coast. Our position was now one of great danger. The heavy pack which we had passed the night previous lay to leeward of us, and was even visible from the mast-head, thus shutting off retreat in that direction, even should our necessities give us no choice but to run before the wind.
The entries of my diary will perhaps best exhibit the ineffectual struggle which followed:—
August 28th, 3 o'clock, P. M.
Blowing frightfully. We have run in under the coast, and are partly sheltered by it, and trying hard to find an anchorage. But for the protection of the land we could not show a stitch of canvas. We are about three miles from Sutherland Island, which lies close to Cape Alexander, on its south side, but we have ceased to gain any thing upon it. We can carry so little sail that the schooner will not work to windward; besides, here under the coast, the wind comes only in squalls. If we can only get in between the island and the mainland we shall be all right. I have not been in bed since the day before leaving Tessuissak, and during these six days I have snatched only now and then a little sleep. If our anchor once gets a clutch on the bottom I shall make up for lost time.
I ought to have been more cautious, and sought shelter sooner. A heavy white cloud hanging over Cape Alexander (Jensen calls it a "table-cloth") warned me of the approaching gale, but then I did not think it would come upon us with such fury.
It is a perfect hurricane. My chief fear is that we will be driven out to sea, which is everywhere filled with heavy ice.
August 29th, 12 o'clock, M.