On the 28th of May, being in latitude 80° 8′, we killed our first whale; and within the next fortnight, and near the same position, sixteen others yielded their lives to our harpoons and lances. On the 29th of June, only two-and-thirty days from the time of our first capture, we completed our cargo, being “a full ship,” with the produce of twenty-four whales, one narwal, two seals, two walruses, and two bears. This cargo, by far the largest, I believe, of the season, yielded 216 tuns of oil, and almost eleven tons of whalebone. The fishery, in consequence of the peculiar position of the ice, and the unusual inaccessibility of the best fishing stations, proved generally bad. Judging from the returns in my possession, comprising the successes of twenty-four of the Greenland whalers of that year, I should calculate the general average at about fifty tuns of oil per ship, or less than one-fourth of the Resolution’s cargo. The united cargoes of nine ships, out of eighteen, from one port (taking, of course, the worst fished ships), exceeded only by a few tuns the single cargo which resulted from the singular enterprise of my Father.

But we return to the grand exploration of a region which, as far as conclusive records go, has not, before or since, ever been navigated.

In the first instance, after our arrival in this vast northern opening of the ice, we proceeded to the westward, and, finding no whales, tacked, when we had reached the longitude of about 8° W., in the parallel of 79° 30′ N. We then stretched to the northward and eastward, proceeding, generally, near to or within sight of the northern “pack,” for a distance of above 300 miles,—a direct uninterrupted progress in this high latitude quite unparalleled. On the 23d-24th, at midnight, an altitude of the sun, below the Pole, carefully taken with a fifteen-inch sextant by Ramsden, gave the latitude 81° 12′ 42″. We continued our progress until (early the following morning) we had reached the longitude of 19° E., when our latitude, as estimated from the recent observation, was 81° 30′ N. This was our farthest advance northward, in which we had gained a position within about 510 miles of the Pole! Even then, the navigation was still quite open to the E.N.E., (true) and from that point round to the S.E.; so open, that, as we could certainly gather from the appearance of the sky, we could have easily advanced many many leagues farther in the direction we had so extensively pursued.

Our situation, at our farthest advance, was singular and solitary indeed. No ship, no human being, it was believed, was within 300 or 350 miles of us. Unquestionably, the crew of the Resolution now occupied the most northern position of any individuals in the world! The sea began to freeze and threatened our detention. We had made no progress in the fishery, nor could we find any whales. The seamen began to be anxious, fearful, and troublesome, so that abundant considerations urged our return to the westward, where, as has been shown, our commercial enterprise became so signally successful.

The accuracy of the determinations for the latitude we have stated, was variously verified during our progress both ways. Thus, going north-eastward, we observed, May 23d, at noon, in lat. 80° 50′ 28″; at next midnight, as we have noted, in 81° 12′ 42″. At the succeeding noon, after above eight hours sailing on our return, we again observed in 81° 1′ 53″; and, still running south-westerly, we sighted at 8 P.M. of the same day Hackluyt’s Headland, some forty miles still to the southward of our position.

We have spoken of this adventure as reaching to the highest latitude ever attained, as far as we have conclusive records, by sailing. Captain Parry, in his Polar attempt of 1827, indeed, went beyond my Father’s greatest attainment a distance of seventy or eighty miles; but this advance was wholly gained by travelling across the ice. For with all the advantage of a later period in the summer, and the penetration of the loose ice by boats, the travelling had to be commenced on attaining the latitude of 81° 13′.

In referring to this attempt, one can hardly refrain from expressing regret at the success of an expedition so energetically pursued being marred by circumstances which, under better arrangements, might have been avoided. For had the plan as originally suggested, about twelve years before this adventure, been acted on, I have no hesitation in affirming, that a far greater advance northward, if not complete success, must have attended the daring enterprise. It falls not, indeed, within the object of the present Memorials to take up again a question which is discussed in detail in a communication of mine to the “Edinburgh Philosophical Journal,” and published in the number for July 1828; but it may suffice to say, that the opinion offered just above has now the sanction of the gallant conductor of the enterprise himself, who, in a letter published by the late Sir John Barrow, in his volume of “Arctic Voyages” (p. 313) states, that “he believes it to be an object of no very difficult attainment, if set about in a different manner.” And, it may be added, a plan for that adventure is given in the letter now quoted, substantially embodying the characteristic points of my original scheme,[K] and, indeed, in no essential particular, except the suggestion for spending the previous winter at Spitzbergen, differing from it.

Under such support in the idea, from one of the best authorities amongst those experimentally acquainted with the difficulties of the undertaking, I am led, not only to an increased conviction of the practicability of the enterprise, but to the entertaining of the belief, that the triumph is yet in store for the daring and adventurous nation

“Whose flag has braved a thousand years,
The battle and the breeze;”

when