We will now trace the progress of the Investigator, from the time she was last seen passing Point Barrow under a press of sail.
She made the ice on the 2nd of August, and, more than once being nearly caught by it, she reached Cape Bathurst by the 30th. Rounding it, she stood east and north, passing the south of Baring Island, which was called Cape Nelson. She then reached a channel with Baring Island on the west, and another land on the east, to which the name of Prince Albert’s Land was given, when, on the 30th of September, she was fairly frozen in. Prince Albert’s Land was taken possession of on the 8th of October, in the name of Her Most Gracious Majesty, by Captain McClure, with a party of officers and men, who landed, and planted a staff with a flag to it on the shore. On their return to the ship, they found that the land and sea ice had separated, and they were alarmed with the prospect of having to remain on shore during the whole of an Arctic autumn night. Happily, their signals were at last seen, and a party, with two of Halkett’s inflatable boats, was sent to their assistance. In consequence of the excessive roughness of the ice, no other boat could have been got across. “By these means a large party were relieved, who were without tents, clothing, fuel, provisions, or in any way provided to withstand the severities of a Polar night, with the thermometer eight degrees minus.” We take the opportunity of advising that all vessels should be provided with one or more of these admirable contrivances. They may be of any size, from that in which one man alone can sit, to one capable of carrying fifty people. One might always be kept on deck, which could be launched in a moment should a man fall overboard. By this means numberless lives might be saved.
Captain McClure, feeling assured that the ship was immovably fixed for the winter, started with a sledge party on the 21st, to proceed to the north-east, in the hopes of discovering Barrow’s Straits; and, after travelling for upwards of seventy miles, they had the intense gratification, on the 26th of October, of pitching their tents on its shores. The next morning, before sunrise, he and Mr Court ascended a hill, 600 feet in height, whence they could command a view of forty or fifty miles over the Straits, though the opposite shore of Melville Island could not be discerned. They found, however, by their observations, that Sir Edward Parry had very correctly marked the loom of the land on which they stood; and that thus the long-vexed question was solved, and that, whatever others might have done, or might be doing, they had, at all events, found a watery way from the Pacific to the Atlantic Oceans.
They reached the ship again on the 31st, narrowly escaping destruction in a fog, when Captain McClure had to wander about during a whole night on a floe, with the thermometer from five to fifteen degrees below zero. And now the first winter of the Investigator was commenced in those ice-bound regions. By the middle of April, expeditions were sent out in all directions, and depots of provisions established for the relief of the long-lost companions of Sir John Franklin.
Both sides of the Prince of Wales’ Straits were thoroughly explored, as was Baring Island and Prince Albert’s Land as far as its southern shore, known as Wollaston Land,—a continuous coast-line being thus laid down along the whole southern shore of Barrow’s Straits, and that of the north shore of the American continent, united with the discoveries of previous explorers. This, it will be remembered, was the winter of 1850-51.
When the short summer once more returned, Captain McClure made every endeavour to get the ship to the north-east, through the Prince of Wales’ Straits into Barrow’s Straits, but in vain. So closely was the ice packed at the north-east end, that, after running great hazard of shipwreck, he was compelled to give up the attempt on the 16th of July, when only twenty-five miles distant from Barrow’s Straits, and bearing up, he ran to the south and west round Baring Island. The voyage off the west coast of that large island was full of danger, the ship frequently narrowly escaping being cast away, till at length, with a fair breeze, she entered Banks’ Straits, which, leading into Melville Sound, may be looked upon as the western end of Barrow’s Straits. They were but some eighty miles distant from Barrow’s Straits, with every prospect of gaining them, and being able the following season to return home, when a heavy barrier of ice rose before them to intercept their progress. Backward they were driven into a deep bay, to which the name of the Bay of Mercy was given, as an acknowledgment of the merciful way in which they had been preserved from so many dangers. They had actually been only five days under weigh after leaving their winter quarters in Prince of Wales’ Straits.
As in the previous season, their time was fully occupied in making exploring expeditions in all directions, and in shooting excursions. With the exception of about three weeks in January, when it was too dark to shoot, enough game was killed to enable them to enjoy a meal of fresh meat three days in the fortnight.
On the 11th of April, Captain McClure, with Mr Court, second master, and a sledge party, started to cross the ice on sledges, to visit Winter Harbour, in Melville Island. Soon after leaving the ship a thick fog came on, and continued for several days, so that their destination was not reached till the 28th.
We must picture to ourselves the sort of work these brave men had to go through, to do full justice to their perseverance and courage,—day after day travelling on, dragging their sledges across the frozen strait, often in the face of biting winds, encamping night after night with simply a tent to shelter them and a spirit-lamp only with which to cook their food or to afford them warmth. Yet thus, during that eventful period in the history of Arctic discovery, were many hundred British seamen employed in different portions of the icy ocean, all nobly engaged in the search for their lost countrymen and brother sailors. Not only for month after month, but year after year,—the only interruption being the dark, long night of mid-winter, and the brief period of summer navigation,—when, amid icebergs and ice-fields, whirled here and there, tossed by storms, and urged impetuously on by currents, they forced their way onward, in the hope of gaining the open ocean in another hemisphere.
At Winter Harbour Captain McClure found a large fragment of sandstone, with this inscription—“His Britannic Majesty’s ships Hecla and Griper, Commanders Parry and Lyddon, wintered in the adjacent harbour during the winter of 1819-20. A. Fisher, sculpsit.” Lieutenant McClintock had left a notice of his visit on the previous year on the same fragment, and protected it by a large cairn. In this cairn Captain McClure now deposited his own despatches, giving a plan of the way he intended to proceed under the various circumstances which might occur. One portion especially is worthy of notice.