After stating his intention of visiting Port Leopold, in Barrow’s Straits, and of leaving there information of the route he purposed to pursue, he says: “Should no intimation be found of our having been there, it may be at once surmised that some fatal catastrophe has happened, either from being carried into the Polar Sea, or smashed in Barrow’s Straits, and no survivors left. If such should be the case, it will then be quite unnecessary to penetrate farther to the westward to our relief, as, by the period that any vessel could reach that port, we must, from want of provisions, all have perished; in such case I would submit that the officer may be directed to return, and by no means incur the danger of losing other lives in quest of those who will then be no more.” Admirable indeed is the calm courage with which he contemplated that fearful contingency which we now know too well overtook the expedition of which he was in quest, and his generous anxiety that no more valuable lives should be sacrificed in searching for him. Accomplishing in ten days what occupied eighteen upon the outward trip, the party reached the ship on the 9th of May. Summer was approaching. Some deer and musk oxen were shot. By the 10th of August the frozen-up mariners began to entertain the joyful hopes of being liberated. Lanes of water were observed to seaward, and along the cliffs of Banks’ Land there was a clear space of six miles in width extending along them as far as the eye could reach; and on the 12th the wind, which had been for some time from the northward, veered to the south, which had the effect of separating the ice from that of the bay entirely across the entrance. Every moment they were in expectation of their release, and then a few days’ sail would carry them into Barrow’s Straits, and perhaps into Baffin’s Bay itself. Shortly, however, the wind changed to the northward, the ice again closed: in vain they waited for it to open.
On the 20th the temperature fell to 27 degrees, and the entire bay was frozen over. The ice never again opened, and the usual preparations were made for passing a third winter in those Arctic seas. It is wonderful to observe how officers and men kept up their spirits, and how cheerfully they bore their trials and privations. They had for a year been placed on two-thirds allowance of provisions; the consumption was still further decreased, to enable them to exist another eighteen months. The winter was severe, but passed away without sickness; and now Captain McClure informed his crew that it was his purpose to send a portion home in a boat by Baffin’s Bay. The intended travellers were put on full allowance, and all preparations were made for their starting on the 15th of April.
One day towards the end of March, Captain McClure and his first lieutenant were taking their daily exercise on the floe near the ship, when they saw running towards them a person whom they supposed to be one of their own men chased by a bear. They hurried on, when, to their surprise, they discovered that he was a stranger, his face so blackened by the smoke from the oil-lamp that his features could not be recognised. “Who are you? Where are you come from?”
“Lieutenant Pim—Herald—Captain Kellet,” was the answer. Wonderful indeed it seemed; for Lieutenant Pim was the last person with whom the captain of the Investigator had shaken hands in Behring’s Straits. It was some time before Lieutenant Pim could find words to express himself, when he announced that he was ahead of his party, who had crossed from the winter quarters of the Resolute in Bridport Inlet, Melville Island. Captain McClure then set out with a party of officers and men to visit the Resolute, which ship was reached on the 19th of April 1853, after traversing a distance of 170 miles.
Great was the satisfaction of the two gallant captains at thus again meeting. It was finally resolved that a portion of the crews of both ships should be sent home, while the remainder should stay in the hopes of extricating them during the coming summer. As, however, many of the Investigator’s crew were suffering from scurvy, only a small number were able to continue the journey westward, under command of Lieutenant Cresswell and Lieutenant Wynniett.
On the 2nd of June they arrived on board the North Star, Captain Pullen, at Beechey Island. The distance was 300 miles, and it had taken them four weeks to perform the journey.
On the 8th of August the Phoenix screw-steamer, Captain Inglefield, arrived. At that time Captain Pullen had been away a month up Wellington Channel, to communicate with Sir Edward Belcher. By the time he returned, the season had so much advanced, that it was decided to send back the Phoenix with Lieutenant Cresswell and his party. On the 4th of October they landed at Thurso, and on the 7th of October arrived at the Admiralty, with the announcement of the safety of the Investigator, and the tidings that the geographical question of the existence of the long-sought-for North-West Passage had been satisfactorily solved.
We must now turn briefly to narrate the fate of the numerous exploring vessels left in the Arctic regions at the setting in of the winter of 1853-54.
Before we do so, we must, however, give a brief account of the progress made by the persevering and brave Captain Collinson.
When, in 1850, Captain McClure succeeded in reaching the ice through Behring’s Straits, the Enterprise, from having been somewhat longer on her voyage, was not so fortunate, and was compelled to winter in Port Clarence. Hence the Enterprise again sailed on the 10th of July 1851, to push her way eastward along the American coast, visiting the islands which form the northern shore of the channel. Here he found several depots and marks left by Captain McClure in the spring or in the previous autumn. The Enterprise finally was frozen in, in a sheltered harbour in Prince Albert’s Land, near the entrance of Prince of Wales’ Straits.