CHAPTER 17
We kept our course southwardly for four days after giving up thesearch for Glass’s islands, without meeting with any ice at all. On thetwenty-sixth, at noon, we were in latitude 63 degrees 23’ S., longitude41 degrees 25’ W. We now saw several large ice islands, and a floe offield ice, not, however, of any great extent. The winds generally blewfrom the southeast, or the northeast, but were very light. Whenever wehad a westerly wind, which was seldom, it was invariably attended with arain squall. Every day we had more or less snow. The thermometer, on thetwenty-seventh stood at thirty-five.
January 1, 1828.--This day we found ourselves completely hemmed in bythe ice, and our prospects looked cheerless indeed. A strong gale blew,during the whole forenoon, from the northeast, and drove large cakes ofthe drift against the rudder and counter with such violence that we alltrembled for the consequences. Toward evening, the gale still blowingwith fury, a large field in front separated, and we were enabled, bycarrying a press of sail to force a passage through the smaller flakesinto some open water beyond. As we approached this space we took in sailby degrees, and having at length got clear, lay-to under a single reefedforesail.
January 2.--We had now tolerably pleasant weather. At noon we foundourselves in latitude 69 degrees 10’ S, longitude 42 degrees 20’ W,having crossed the Antarctic circle. Very little ice was to be seen tothe southward, although large fields of it lay behind us. This day werigged some sounding gear, using a large iron pot capable of holdingtwenty gallons, and a line of two hundred fathoms. We found thecurrent setting to the north, about a quarter of a mile per hour. Thetemperature of the air was now about thirty-three. Here we found thevariation to be 14 degrees 28’ easterly, per azimuth.
January 5.--We had still held on to the southward without any very greatimpediments. On this morning, however, being in latitude 73 degrees 15’E., longitude 42 degrees 10’ W, we were again brought to a stand by animmense expanse of firm ice. We saw, nevertheless, much open water tothe southward, and felt no doubt of being able to reach it eventually.Standing to the eastward along the edge of the floe, we at length cameto a passage of about a mile in width, through which we warped our wayby sundown. The sea in which we now were was thickly covered with iceislands, but had no field ice, and we pushed on boldly as before. Thecold did not seem to increase, although we had snow very frequently,and now and then hail squalls of great violence. Immense flocks ofthe albatross flew over the schooner this day, going from southeast tonorthwest.
January 7.--The sea still remained pretty well open, so that we hadno difficulty in holding on our course. To the westward we saw someicebergs of incredible size, and in the afternoon passed very near onewhose summit could not have been less than four hundred fathoms fromthe surface of the ocean. Its girth was probably, at the base,three-quarters of a league, and several streams of water were runningfrom crevices in its sides. We remained in sight of this island twodays, and then only lost it in a fog.
January 10.--Early this morning we had the misfortune to lose a manoverboard. He was an American named Peter Vredenburgh, a native of NewYork, and was one of the most valuable hands on board the schooner. Ingoing over the bows his foot slipped, and he fell between two cakesof ice, never rising again. At noon of this day we were in latitude 78degrees 30’, longitude 40 degrees 15’ W. The cold was now excessive, andwe had hail squalls continually from the northward and eastward. Inthis direction also we saw several more immense icebergs, and the wholehorizon to the eastward appeared to be blocked up with field ice, risingin tiers, one mass above the other. Some driftwood floated by duringthe evening, and a great quantity of birds flew over, among which werenellies, peterels, albatrosses, and a large bird of a brilliant blueplumage. The variation here, per azimuth, was less than it had beenpreviously to our passing the Antarctic circle.
January 12.--Our passage to the south again looked doubtful, as nothingwas to be seen in the direction of the pole but one apparently limitlessfloe, backed by absolute mountains of ragged ice, one precipice of whicharose frowningly above the other. We stood to the westward until thefourteenth, in the hope of finding an entrance.
January 14.--This morning we reached the western extremity of the fieldwhich had impeded us, and, weathering it, came to an open sea, without aparticle of ice. Upon sounding with two hundred fathoms, we here founda current setting southwardly at the rate of half a mile per hour. Thetemperature of the air was forty-seven, that of the water thirty-four. Wenow sailed to the southward without meeting any interruption of momentuntil the sixteenth, when, at noon, we were in latitude 81 degrees21’, longitude 42 degrees W. We here again sounded, and found a currentsetting still southwardly, and at the rate of three quarters of a mileper hour. The variation per azimuth had diminished, and the temperatureof the air was mild and pleasant, the thermometer being as high asfifty-one. At this period not a particle of ice was to be discovered.All hands on board now felt certain of attaining the pole.
January 17.--This day was full of incident. Innumerable flights of birdsflew over us from the southward, and several were shot from the deck,one of them, a species of pelican, proved to be excellent eating. Aboutmidday a small floe of ice was seen from the masthead off the larboardbow, and upon it there appeared to be some large animal. As the weatherwas good and nearly calm, Captain Guy ordered out two of the boats tosee what it was. Dirk Peters and myself accompanied the mate in thelarger boat. Upon coming up with the floe, we perceived that it was inthe possession of a gigantic creature of the race of the Arctic bear,but far exceeding in size the largest of these animals. Being wellarmed, we made no scruple of attacking it at once. Several shots werefired in quick succession, the most of which took effect, apparently,in the head and body. Nothing discouraged, however, the monster threwhimself from the ice, and swam with open jaws, to the boat in which werePeters and myself. Owing to the confusion which ensued among us at thisunexpected turn of the adventure, no person was ready immediately witha second shot, and the bear had actually succeeded in getting half hisvast bulk across our gunwale, and seizing one of the men by the smallof his back, before any efficient means were taken to repel him. In thisextremity nothing but the promptness and agility of Peters saved us fromdestruction. Leaping upon the back of the huge beast, he plunged theblade of a knife behind the neck, reaching the spinal marrow at a blow.The brute tumbled into the sea lifeless, and without a struggle, rollingover Peters as he fell. The latter soon recovered himself, and a ropebeing thrown him, he secured the carcass before entering the boat. Wethen returned in triumph to the schooner, towing our trophy behind us.This bear, upon admeasurement, proved to be full fifteen feet in hisgreatest length. His wool was perfectly white, and very coarse, curlingtightly. The eyes were of a blood red, and larger than those of theArctic bear, the snout also more rounded, rather resembling the snoutof the bulldog. The meat was tender, but excessively rank and fishy,although the men devoured it with avidity, and declared it excellenteating.
Scarcely had we got our prize alongside, when the man at the mastheadgave the joyful shout of “land on the starboard bow!” All hands werenow upon the alert, and, a breeze springing up very opportunely from thenorthward and eastward, we were soon close in with the coast. Itproved to be a low rocky islet, of about a league in circumference, andaltogether destitute of vegetation, if we except a species of pricklypear. In approaching it from the northward, a singular ledge of rock isseen projecting into the sea, and bearing a strong resemblance to cordedbales of cotton. Around this ledge to the westward is a small bay, atthe bottom of which our boats effected a convenient landing.
It did not take us long to explore every portion of the island, but,with one exception, we found nothing worthy of our observation. In thesouthern extremity, we picked up near the shore, half buried in a pileof loose stones, a piece of wood, which seemed to have formed the prowof a canoe. There had been evidently some attempt at carving upon it,and Captain Guy fancied that he made out the figure of a tortoise, butthe resemblance did not strike me
very forcibly. Besides this prow, ifsuch it were, we found no other token that any living creature had everbeen here before. Around the coast we discovered occasional small floesof ice--but these were very few. The exact situation of the islet (towhich Captain Guy gave the name of Bennet’s Islet, in honour of hispartner in the ownership of the schooner) is 82 degrees 50’ S. latitude,42 degrees 20’ W. longitude.
We had now advanced to the southward more than eight degrees fartherthan any previous navigators, and the sea still lay perfectly openbefore us. We found, too, that the variation uniformly decreased as weproceeded, and, what was still more surprising, that the temperatureof the air, and latterly of the water, became milder. The weather mighteven be called pleasant, and we had a steady but very gentle breezealways from some northern point of the compass. The sky was usuallyclear, with now and then a slight appearance of thin vapour in thesouthern horizon--this, however, was invariably of brief duration. Twodifficulties alone presented themselves to our view; we were gettingshort of fuel, and symptoms of scurvy had occurred among several ofthe crew. These considerations began to impress upon Captain Guy thenecessity of returning, and he spoke of it frequently. For my own part,confident as I was of soon arriving at land of some description uponthe course we were pursuing, and having every reason to believe, frompresent appearances, that we should not find it the sterile soil metwith in the higher Arctic latitudes, I warmly pressed upon him theexpediency of persevering, at least for a few days longer, in thedirection we were now holding. So tempting an opportunity of solvingthe great problem in regard to an Antarctic continent had never yetbeen afforded to man, and I confess that I felt myself bursting withindignation at the timid and ill-timed suggestions of our commander.I believe, indeed, that what I could not refrain from saying to him onthis head had the effect of inducing him to push on. While, therefore,I cannot but lament the most unfortunate and bloody events whichimmediately arose from my advice, I must still be allowed to feel somedegree of gratification at having been instrumental, however remotely,in opening to the eye of science one of the most intensely excitingsecrets which has ever engrossed its attention.
The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 3 Page 18
