The Great Frozen Sea: A Personal Narrative of the Voyage of the "Alert"

by Sir Albert Hastings Markham

Although we never again experienced such a severe burst of cold as we did during the first few days of March, the temperature remained extraordinarily low, and mercury was in a frozen state during nearly the whole of that month. The presence of the sun appeared to have little effect on the temperature, but thermometers exposed to its rays would frequently rise as high as zero, and sometimes above that point.

The difference of temperature at the summit and at the base of Cairn Hill, whose height, as has been stated, was four hundred and fifty feet, was 5½°, the thermometer rising as the hill was ascended, and falling again as it was brought down.

Traces of ptarmigan had frequently been observed in the snow, but it was not until the 22nd of March that the first bird was seen, although our sportsmen had been most diligent in their search for them. On that day two of our pedestrians succeeding in flushing one solitary ptarmigan, but, as is usual in such cases, they were without guns. Very few of these birds were afterwards seen in the neighbourhood of the “Alert.” Their appearance caused some little excitement, for we looked upon them as the harbingers of spring, and as a token that our long winter had well-nigh terminated.

On the 25th of March, there was a partial eclipse of the sun, which was clearly visible to all those who took the trouble to go on deck and, with a piece of smoked or coloured glass, examine it in spite of a very low temperature. The first contact was observed at six minutes past four in the afternoon, and the egress at six o’clock. About .65, or little more than half the sun, was obscured.

During the middle of March the quarter-deck housing was removed, and we were again able to enjoy daylight on the upper deck. Although the low temperature did not yet admit of our removing the snow from the hatchways and skylights, yet we were able to clear the tops of our cabin illuminators, and thus obtain below a slight amount of daylight, sufficient at any rate to obviate the necessity of incessant candle-light during the day. It was not until the middle of May, whilst the sledge travellers were absent, that the skylights were cleared and the snow removed from the upper deck.

Fire is the most disastrous accident that can possibly happen to a ship wintering in the Arctic Regions, and it should be most carefully guarded against. It may result in having your house, together with all your provisions, consumed, and yourselves, perhaps not burnt, but destined for even a more terrible fate, namely, turned out on the ice without food and without shelter, exposed to a pitiless temperature, with no covering or protection of any description. Such a situation would prove fatal in a few hours. Men so placed would realize the dreadful fate so vividly and graphically described by Jules Verne as having befallen Captain Hatteras and his companions when their ship was destroyed and they were deserted by their shipmates.

In the “Alert” we had one alarm from fire, which, although it might have ended disastrously, did very little injury. It originated in our “drying-room,” where, through the carelessness of the man in charge, some of the clothes had been allowed to hang in dangerous proximity to the stove. These igniting quickly communicated the fire to the surrounding objects, and for a little time it was doubtful whether the conflagration might not assume a very serious aspect. In spite of the occurrence happening at night-time, the men exerted themselves with such good will that the fire was speedily extinguished, with no further damage done than the destruction of a few clothes, although it was some time before we could rid ourselves of the smoke, which unpleasantly permeated the whole ship. The temperature at the time was 58° below zero, which would have rendered the work of supplying water from the fire-hole not only a difficult, but also a dangerous task, and one which must have resulted in many severe frost-bites.

During the latter part of the month of March the officers were employed in dismounting the various instruments in the observatories, carefully packing and putting them away, as most of them would not be required again until the following winter. This was a very necessary proceeding, as before the return of the officers from sledge travelling the observatories with all their “fixings,” such as pedestals, etc., being composed of snow, would have melted away during the summer thaw. By the end of the month the observatories were entirely stripped and left bare, when they gradually fell into decay. “Woolwich” was also “unsnowed,” and the powder brought off to the ship and stowed in the magazine.

In addition to all this work, the crews of the different sledges destined to take part in the spring campaign were, in this month of March, specially exercised, under their respective officers, for several hours during the day. Their regular daily exercise had also been carefully attended to throughout the winter.