CHAPTER III.
ON THE OPEN SEA.
1. There lay the open Ocean before us; never were its sparkling waves beheld with more sincere joy, than by the small band of men, who, escaping from the prison house of the ice after fearful struggles, now raised their arms on high to greet its glad waters. The 15th of August was the day of our liberation—the festival of the Assumption of the Virgin—and our boats were dressed with flags in its commemoration. But it was no time for the rest and recreation of a Holy Day: graver duties pressed upon us. The boats had to be ballasted, and were with difficulty made to take on board the baggage, the water-casks, and the crews. Our four sledges, to which we owed so much of our success so far, were of course left behind. The dogs too were put on board, not, however, without much hesitation, when the contingencies of the voyage were considered.
2. With three hurrahs, we pushed off from the ice, and our voyage commenced. Its happy issue depended on the weather and on incessant rowing. If a storm should arise, the boats, laden as they were, must sink. We were soon convinced that the dogs, which suffered greatly from sea-sickness, would dangerously incommode us in the boats by destroying their trim. There was, in fact, no room for them in our over-crowded boats, nor water, nor provisions. We could not bring ourselves to abandon them, and our only form of gratitude for their services was, alas! the painful one of putting them to death. A floe, by which we passed, became the grave of these our true friends, our companions in all situations, and our helpers in all dangers! It was indeed a painful moment, when Jubinal was taken out of the boat to meet his death. It was the loss of a true comrade, who had never departed from my side, and who had patiently borne all the labours and toils imposed on him. Poor Torossy too, born in the Arctic regions, amid the ice-pressures, was not a little lamented.
3. With boundless satisfaction, we saw the white edge of the ice gradually become a line, and at last disappear. Every one felt, that finding the ice-barrier in so high a latitude, was the crowning blessing to which we must ascribe our liberation. At the distance of a mile from the edge of the ice, the temperature of the water had risen to 30° F., and that of the air to 39° F. The sunbeams were reflected with such intensity from the smooth surface of the sea, that we felt the long unknown sensation of heat, and were obliged to cast off some of our garments.
4. We shaped our course south-by-west, towards the Barentz Islands, intending to take in supplies of provisions from the depôt formed by Count Wilczek, and then to coast along Novaya Zemlya in search of a ship engaged in the fisheries, which we hoped to find either at Admiralty Peninsula, or Matoschkin Straits, or in Dunen Bay. Norwegian vessels, engaged in the capture of the walrus, might be looked for as far south as Matoschkin Straits, and the Russian salmon-fishers still further to the south. The nearest land was fifty miles off, and everything depended on our reaching its friendly shores before the weather changed for the worse. In the event of stormy weather there would be no other alternative than to throw our provisions overboard in order to lighten the boats.
5. Putting forth all our strength, we rowed steadily for some days. Weyprecht took the lead in his boat, and the others followed him as quickly as possible. The crew of each boat was divided into two watches, who were relieved every four hours. It frequently happened that one boat fell behind the others, and was lost sight of in a fog or mist. Trumpets and horns were then sounded, till the laggard boat, by renewed efforts of her crew, came up with the others. On the 16th, a breeze from the north sprang up, and we used our sails with good effect for some hours. At last Novaya Zemlya was sighted—some silvery points above the level of the sea, which our people took at first for the reappearance of the ice in the south; they proved to be the snowy summits near Cape Nassau. At this headland the mountains running along the coast suddenly cease, and the land trending to the north-east, assumes the monotonous character of glaciation almost without mountains, as far as the lonely shores where three centuries ago Barentz slept his last sleep.
6. Our progress had no longer the paralysing insignificance of former days. This day at noon our latitude was 76° 46′, and on the 17th, the picturesque range of mountains south of Cape Nassau, rose through the morning mists close before us steeped in violet and crimson hues. A fog arising, we rowed along by compass in the midst of it, the boats seemed to float in the air amid the fog. During its continuance a current caused us to deviate so much to the south-west, that when at noon the land was again visible, we discovered that we had gone beyond the place where the depôt had been formed, and found by the chart, that we were in 75° 40′ lat. and 58° long. But as the loss of time, in going back a distance of a hundred miles, was out of all proportion to the amount of provisions we could have taken in our overladen boats, we determined at all risks to hold on our course.
7. Before us, in the far distance, now rose above the horizon the higher parts of Admiralty Peninsula; to these we now steered. As we passed along we made a vain attempt to land on the north of Gwosdarew Bay. We found the shores full of cliffs, between which a heavy surf was breaking, and could thus form some notion of the perils we should have encountered, had we attempted to land on the Barentz Islands. Two years ago the edge of this coast had been covered with firm ice, and the depôt had been formed by the aid of sledges. But now not a fragment of ice was to be seen on the west coast of Novaya Zemlya, and the rocky shore could only be approached by boats.
8. The differences between the climate in the years 1872 and 1874, were also in other respects very remarkable. In 1872 the mountains of the country were mostly covered with snow, but in 1874, it lay only on the higher parts of its glaciers, and in latitude 76° N., where we had found thick ice, the temperature of the sea was 39° F., and of the air 43° F. The phenomena of the climate of 1871, as we observed them in the voyage of the Isbjörn, were similar to those of 1874; and this peculiar mildness was experienced on the eastern coasts of Novaya Zemlya by Captain Wiggins, who when navigating the sea of Cara as far as the mouth of the Ob, was shut in there by the ice for a few weeks only.
