Three Voyages for the Discovery of a Northwest Passage from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and Narrative of an Attempt to Reach the North Pole, Volume 1

by Sir William Edward Parry

A calm which prevailed during the night kept us quite stationary till three A.M. on the 23d, when a fresh breeze sprung up from the northward, and all sail was made for Cape Hotham, to the southward of which it was now my intention to seek a direct passage towards Behring's Strait. Wellington Channel, to the northward of us, was as open and navigable to the utmost extent of our view as any part of the Atlantic; but as it lay at right angles to our coarse, and there was still an opening at least ten leagues wide to the southward of Cornwallis Island, I could have no hesitation in deciding which of the two it was our business to pursue. It is impossible to conceive anything more animating than the quick and unobstructed run with which we were favoured, from Beechey Island across to Cape Hotham. Most men have, probably, at one time or another, experienced that elevation of spirits which is usually produced by rapid motion of any kind; and it will readily be conceived how much this feeling was heightened in us, in the few instances in which it occurred, by the slow and tedious manner in which the greater part of our navigation had been performed in these seas.

At noon we had reached the longitude of 94° 43' 15", the latitude by observation being 74° 20' 52", when we found that the land which then formed the western extreme on this side was a second island, which I called GRIFFITH ISLAND. The ice in this neighbourhood was covered with innumerable "hummocks," and the floes were from seven to ten feet in thickness.

After various unsuccessful attempts to get through the ice which now lay in our way, we were at length so fortunate as to accomplish this object by "boring" through a number of heavy "streams," which occasioned the ships to receive many severe shocks; and, at half an hour before midnight, we were able to, pursue our course, through "sailing ice," to the westward.

The weather was at this time remarkably serene and clear; and although we saw a line of ice to the southward of us, lying in a direction nearly east and west, or parallel to the course on which we were steering, and some more land appeared to the westward, yet the space of open water was still so broad, and the prospect from the masthead, upon the whole, so flattering, that I thought the chances of our separation had now become greater than before; and I therefore considered it right to furnish Lieutenant Liddon with fresh instructions, and to appoint some new place of rendezvous in case of unavoidable separation from the Hecla. At ten o'clock, after having had a clear view of the ice and of the land about sunset, and finding that there was at present no passage to the westward, we hauled off to the southeast, in the hope of finding some opening in the ice to the southward, by which we might get round in the desired direction. We were encouraged in this hope by a dark "water-sky" to the southward; but, after running along the ice till half past eleven without perceiving any opening, we again bore up. There was in this neighbourhood a great deal of that particular kind of ice called by the sailors "dirty ice," on the surface of which were strewed sand, stones, and, in some instances, moss: ice of this kind must, of course, at one time or other, have been in close contact with the land.

At ten A.M. I despatched Captain Sabine and Mr. Ross to the eastern point of the island, which we were about to round in the ships, in order to make the necessary observations, and to examine the natural productions of the shore. Our latitude at noon was 75° 03' 12", long. 103° 44' 37", and the depth of water forty fathoms. The gentlemen reported, on their return, that they had landed on a sandy beach, near the east point of the island, which they found to be more productive, and altogether more interesting, than any other part of the shores of the Polar regions which we had yet visited. The remains of Esquimaux habitations were found in four different places. Six of these, which Captain Sabine had an opportunity of examining, and which are situated on a level sandy bank, at the side of a small ravine near the sea, are described by him as consisting of stones rudely placed in a circular, or, rather, an elliptical form. They were from seven to ten feet in diameter; the broad, flat sides of the stones standing vertically, and the whole structure, if such it may be called, being exactly similar to that of the summer huts of the Esquimaux which we had seen at Hare Island the preceding year. Attached to each of them was a smaller circle, generally four or five feet in diameter, which had probably been the fireplace. The small circles were placed indifferently as to their direction from the huts to which they belonged; and from the moss and sand which covered some of the lower stones, particularly those which composed the flooring of the huts, the whole encampment appeared to have been deserted for several years. Very recent traces of the reindeer and musk-ox were seen in many places; and a head of the latter, with several reindeers' horns, was brought on board. A few patches of snow remained in sheltered situations; the ravines, however, which were numerous, bore the signs of recent and considerable floods, and their bottoms were swampy, and covered with very luxuriant moss and other vegetation, the character of which differed very little from that of the land at the bottom of Possession Bay.

The dip of the magnetic needle was 88° 25' 58", and the variation was now found to have changed from 128° 58' west, in the longitude of 91° 48', where our last observations on shore had been made, to 165° 50' 09" east, at our present station; so that we had, in sailing over the space included between those two meridians, crossed immediately to the northward of the magnetic pole and had undoubtedly passed over one of those spots upon the globe where the needle would have been found to vary 180°, or, in other words, where its north pole would have pointed due south.

The wind became very light from the eastward, and the weather continued so foggy that nothing could be done during the night but to stand off-and-on, by the soundings, between the ice and the land. On the 29th, after a few hours of clear weather, the fog came on again as thick as before; fortunately, however, we had previously been enabled to take notice of several pieces of ice, by steering for each of which in succession we came to the edge of a floe, along which our course was to be pursued to the westward. As long as we had this guidance, we advanced with great confidence; but as soon as we came to the end of the floe, which then turned off to the southward, the circumstances under which we were sailing were perhaps such as have never occurred since the early days of navigation. To the northward was the land; the ice, as we supposed, to the southward; the compasses useless; and the sun completely obscured by a fog so thick, that the Griper could only now and then be seen at a cable's length astern. We had literally, therefore, no mode, of regulating our course but by once more trusting to the steadiness of the wind; and it was not a little amusing, as well as novel, to see the quartermaster conning the ship by looking at the dogvane.

The weather cleared a little at intervals, but not enough to enable us to proceed till nine A.M. on the 31st, when we cast off from the ice, with a very light air from the northward. We occasionally caught a glimpse of land through the heavy fog-banks with which the horizon was covered, which was sufficient to give us an idea of the true direction in which we ought to steer. Soon after noon we were once more enveloped in a fog, which, however, was not so thick as to prevent our having recourse to a new expedient for steering the ships, which circumstances at the time naturally suggested to our minds. Before the fog recommenced, and while we were sailing on the course which, by the bearings of the land, we knew to be the right one, the Griper was exactly astern of the Hecla, at the distance of about a quarter of a mile. The weather being fortunately not so thick as to prevent our still seeing her at that distance, the quartermaster was directed to stand aft, near the taffrail, and to keep her constantly astern of us, by which means we contrived to steer a tolerably straight course to the westward. The Griper, on the other hand, naturally kept the Hecla right ahead; and thus, however ridiculous it may appear, it is nevertheless true, that we steered one ship entirely by the other for a distance of ten miles out of sixteen and a half, which we sailed between one and eleven P.M.

The wind died away on the morning of the 1st of September, and the fog was succeeded by snow and sleet, which still rendered the atmosphere extremely thick. At a quarter before four A.M., I was informed by the officer of the watch that a breeze had sprung up, and that there was very little ice near the ships. Anxious to take advantage of these favourable circumstances, I directed all sail to be made to the westward: there was no difficulty in complying with the first part of this order; but to ascertain which way the wind was blowing, and to which quarter of the horizon the ship's head was to be directed, was a matter of no such easy accomplishment; nor could we devise any means of determining this question till five o'clock, when we obtained a sight of the sun through the fog, and were thus enabled to shape our course, the wind being moderate from the northward.

At one A.M. on the 2d, a star was seen, being the first that had been visible to us for more than two months.