On the morning of the 2nd of October, having received on board the amount of coal promised, we bade our kind friends farewell, and steamed away amidst the usual firing of guns and dipping of colours. The stoppages at these two civilized places were very pleasant breaks to us, after our long absence from society of any description, except our own, and were not regretted by any one. Indeed, the kindness and true hospitality extended to us by our Danish friends in the different settlements in Northern Greenland will long be remembered with feelings of gratitude and pleasure.
From the date of leaving this our last port until our arrival at Valentia, we experienced very tempestuous weather. Strong head winds were in constant attendance, and the ship’s general state was being “battened down and under close-reefed topsails.” Under these circumstances our daily rate of progress was remarkably slow, and on some days we found that we had actually increased our distance from home instead of having lessened it. Few on board had before experienced a longer continuance of really stormy weather. From the severe buffeting we received, our rudder, already crippled, was reduced to such a state as to be absolutely useless, the rudder-head being almost wrenched off, and we were obliged to steer the ship during the remainder of the voyage by means of the rudder pendants.
On the 16th of October, to the intense surprise of everybody, a vessel was sighted ahead, which proved to be the “Pandora.” How very small is this world we live in! Here were we in the middle of the broad Atlantic, fifteen hundred miles from England, and out of the course of all ships, and yet actually meeting a vessel that had purposely come out to seek us.
The weather was too bad to allow us to communicate, but an interchange of news was effected by signal. The three ships remained in company for a couple of days, when they lost sight of each other in thick and blowy weather, we having previously ordered the “Discovery” to rendezvous at Queenstown in case of parting company.
Our rudder being in such a dilapidated state, Captain Nares determined upon putting in to Valentia for the purpose of shifting it, the spare one having in the mean time been temporarily repaired. With this object we anchored in the snug little harbour of Valentia, on the 27th of October, and here Captain Nares and several of the officers left for the purpose of proceeding at once to London to report our arrival.
| “Now, strike your sayles, yee jolly mariners, For we be come unto a quiet rode, Where we must land some of our passengers And light this wearie vessel of her lode. Here she awhile may make her safe abode.” |
It is in vain to attempt to describe the pleasure we all felt at beholding trees and green fields once more, with the cattle browsing in them. It is difficult at once to throw off old habits, and there were many on board who expressed their anxiety to land at once with their guns for the purpose of shooting “that herd of musk-oxen.” Had we given way to our inclinations, I fear our reception would not have been so warm or so hospitable as it was.
The people of Valentia were the first to bid us welcome. Their kindness and hospitality will never be effaced from our memory. The rudder having been shifted, and sundry repairs executed, we took our departure on the following morning at daylight, being guided out of the place by a most eccentric and original old pilot. On the 29th we reached Queenstown, where we found the “Discovery” had arrived only a couple of hours before. Here again we received a warm welcome and enjoyed that hearty hospitality for which the Irish people are so justly celebrated. That evening we were the guests of the Port Admiral, he and Mrs. Hillyar hearing of no refusal, although we had to sit down to dinner in—well, clothes very dirty and very much the worse for wear. The next day, having taken in a supply of coals, we started for Portsmouth, the two ships remaining in company and arriving in that harbour together on the 2nd of November.
Our reception there and afterwards is a matter of history. Suffice it to say that our exertions received the approbation of our country and of our brother officers, and that the Lords of the Admiralty were pleased to express their satisfaction at the manner in which the expedition had been conducted by our leader, as well as at the way in which the work had been carried out by his subordinates.
My story has now come to an end. My aim has been to describe our daily life during a very eventful service.