In December, 1897, while I was in London, the steam yacht Windward, which had been used in his Franz Joseph Land expedition, was tendered to me by Alfred Harmsworth, who offered to have her re-engined and delivered to me in New York. This generous offer I accepted.
In the spring of 1898 the Peary Arctic Club was organised, Morris K. Jesup, Henry W. Cannon, H. L. Bridgman, all personal friends of mine, forming the nucleus about which the rest of you assembled, and in May the Windward arrived; but, to my regret and disappointment, the machinists’ strike in England having prevented the installation of new engines, she was practically nothing but a sailing craft.
The lateness of the season was such that I had to make the most of the Windward as she was. But her extreme slowness (3½ knots under favourable circumstances), and the introduction of a disturbing factor in the appropriation by another of my plan and field of work, necessitated the charter of an auxiliary ship if I did not wish to be distanced. The Windward sailed from New York on the 4th of July, 1898, and on the 7th I went on board the Hope at Sydney, C. B.
1898–1899
Pushing rapidly northward, and omitting the usual calls at the Danish Greenland ports, Cape York was reached after a voyage, uneventful except for a nip in the ice of Melville Bay, which lifted the Hope bodily, and for a few hours seemed to contain possibilities of trouble.
The work of hunting walrus and assembling my party of natives was commenced at once, the Windward soon joined us, after which the hunting was prosecuted by both ships until the final rendezvous at Etah, whence both ships steamed out on Saturday, August 13th, the Windward to continue northward, the Hope bound for home. The Windward was four hours forcing her way through a narrow barrier of heavy ice across the mouth of Foulke Fiord. Here the Hope left us, straightening away southward toward Cape Alexander, and the Windward headed for Cape Hawkes, showing distinctly beyond Cape Sabine.
At 4 A. M. Sunday we encountered scattered ice off Cape Albert. About noon we were caught in the ice near Victoria Head, and drifted back several miles. Finally we got round Victoria Head into Princess Marie Bay at 6 P. M. The bay was filled with the season’s ice, not yet broken out, while Kane Basin was crowded with the heavy, moving polar pack. Between the two, extending northward across the mouth of the bay, was a series of small pools and threads of water, opening and closing with the movements of the tide. At 11:30 P. M. of the 18th the Windward had worried her way across the bay to a little patch of open water close under Cape D’Urville. Here further progress was stopped by a large floe, several miles across, one end resting against the shore, the other extending into the heavy ice. While crossing the bay the more important stores had been stowed on the deck in readiness to be thrown out upon the ice in the event of a nip. Pending the turning of the tide, when I hoped the big floe would move and let us proceed, I landed at Cape D’Urville, deposited a small cache of supplies and climbed the bluffs to look at the conditions northward.
August 21st, I went on a reconnoissance along the ice-foot to the head of Allman Bay and into the valley beyond. The night of the 21st young ice formed, which did not melt again. On the 28th I attempted to sledge over the sea ice to Norman Lockyer Island, but found too many weak places, and fell back on the ice-foot. The night of the 29th the temperature fell to –13° F., and on the 31st the new ice was four and a quarter inches thick. On this day I went to Cape Hawkes and climbed to its summit, whence I could see lakes out in Kane Basin, but between them and the Windward the ice was closely packed—a discouraging outlook. Only a strong and continued westerly wind would give me any chance. I could not leave the ship for fear an opportunity to advance would occur in my absence.
September 2d, I started on a sledge trip up Princess Marie Bay. At Cape Harrison the strong tidal current kept the ice broken, so that I could not round it, and the ice-foot was impracticable for sledges. I went on foot to the entrance of Cope’s Bay, surveying the shore to that point, and returned to the ship after four days. During this trip I obtained the English record from the cairn on the summit of Norman Lockyer Island, left there twenty-two years ago. This record was as fresh as when deposited.
September 6th, I left the ship to reconnoitre Dobbin Bay, the head of which is uncharted, returning three days later. During this trip the first real snowstorm of the season occurred, five and a half inches falling.