The above lines, composed by the poet laureate of the expedition, greeted us at the breakfast table on the morning of the 1st of January, 1876.
The New Year was ushered in with every demonstration of joy, gratitude, and hope by our little party assembled together, so far removed from the civilized world. We were joyful because a new year had dawned upon us in undiminished numbers; grateful for the many mercies that had been vouchsafed to us, and hopeful concerning our future prospects. We could not look back with regret upon the past year, for to us it had indeed been eventful; but officers and men looked forward to the coming year with feelings of confidence, resolutely determined faithfully to perform their duties, placing their trust in Him who had hitherto so well watched over and protected them, and firm in their reliance on His continued aid and support.
It is generally the custom in the navy to strike the bell sixteen times at midnight on New Year’s eve—eight bells for the old year and eight bells for the new! Of course with us this custom was rigidly adhered to; but not only did we strike sixteen bells at our midnight, but we also struck the same number at six minutes to eight, which, allowing for the exact difference in time, would be midnight in England, so that we had at least the satisfaction of knowing that our bell was being employed in the same way as many others in the navy at the same time.
Perhaps it may be interesting to my readers to know exactly how we received the New Year! I will, therefore, quote my remarks as they appear, word for word, in my journal.
“At five minutes to twelve, we all congregated round the ward-room table, on which was spread a sumptuous cold collation, consisting of a real English ham, Bologna sausages, brawn, and sardines. Strong whiskey punch, in the brewing of which all had a share, was ladled out to each, and from the encomiums which were passed on its flavour and strength, the old proverb that ‘too many cooks spoil the broth’ was completely upset. As the bell struck, a neat little speech was made by our orator the doctor, the compliments of the season were wished to all, nor were those at home forgotten, our glasses were emptied, and then in true Highland fashion, with one foot on the table, the other on our chair, and with hands joined, we all sang ‘Auld lang syne,’ the drum and fife band accompanying us outside, the song being taken up by the men on the lower deck, who, true to their tastes, had been ‘dancing out the old year.’ Such was the manner in which the year 1876 was inaugurated in latitude 82° 27′ N., where no human being had ever welcomed a new year before.”
A more cheerful, happy, and contented party it would be difficult to imagine anywhere; utterly oblivious of the solemn darkness and desolate sterility that prevailed without, they thought only of the “joyous triumph” that they hoped to achieve, and then of their return to old England. Everything wore a cheerful aspect. No leader could have more reason to be satisfied with the health and spirits of those under his command, than Captain Nares on the 1st of January, 1876.
On that morning, at the usual monthly medical inspection, he had the satisfaction of receiving the report that the men were in a better state of health than they were at the last examination. Appetites, which during mid-winter had been waning, had gradually returned. So contented were we, that many were actually pitying our friends in England, because they were unable to enjoy such delicious musk-ox beef as was put on our table for dinner on New Year’s day!
Our first crop of mustard and cress was gathered on the 2nd of January. It was not an abundant one, but there was sufficient to give a mouthful to each person, and what little we had was certainly very refreshing. It had grown up devoid of all colour, and had a very washed-out appearance. The garden was a small shallow box kept close to the ward-room stove. In consequence of the success attending this—our first—attempt at agriculture, several gardens were started, and we were enabled to issue, at different times, small quantities of this excellent antiscorbutic; though how far the loss of colour detracts from its medicinal qualities is a difficult problem to solve. Although the colour was absent, the fresh taste appeared to remain, there being no perceptible difference between that grown on board the “Alert,” and the same reared in the heat of the sun in more favoured climes. As a rule, the best crops were those grown on a blanket.
On the 8th and 9th of January we experienced a heavy gale of wind from the southward. It was impossible, whilst it lasted, to venture outside the ship, even to take the thermometric observations, although they could be registered only a few yards from the gangway: they had therefore to be discontinued during the time the gale lasted. It blew for forty-eight hours with relentless fury, when it exhausted itself in fitful gusts, more or less strong, until it abated altogether. The housing over the ship suffered sadly from this storm, several tons weight of snow having collected on it from the tremendous drift, in some places breaking it through, and in others “bagging” it down so as to render walking underneath an impossibility.