This subject, embracing in its whole extent the construction of ships—or altering of those that have seen less severe service,—for this peculiar employment, their management and direction under the various combinations of ice-packs, ice-floes, icebergs, tides, storms, currents, and other obstacles, when they have entered their frigid field of action, their care and preservation when securely anchored by the cold clutches of the ice, for the long dreary winter night of the Arctic, their liberation when the summer's sun has broken up the great ice fields, and their reenactment in inverse order of their former experience, as they prosecute their journey or return home, as will be more likely in the light of past Arctic adventures, can all be more fairly comprehended by following the history of such a vessel through all the above until its return to its native waters, or its crushing amidst the grinding pack or its final abandonment by a long beleaguered crew to the unyielding fetters of the frozen zone; to follow it from its launching back to its lucky laurels or from its dockyard to its doom.
I will not dwell upon such indubitable facts as the quality of the ship's material, which it is evident must be of the very best, be it wood or iron, or, the almost equally apparent fact of the superiority of a vessel specially constructed for this purpose, in the hands of proper persons, who have had experience in Arctic navigation as well as naval construction over the reconstructed merchantmen or even stronger built man-of-war.
Nothing is more favorable to ice-navigation than a propitious season, and the history of the Arctic is replete with instances where different explorers, at different times, have found the most startling variations in the state of the ice, in the same locality, and at the same corresponding time of the year. So well is this fact appreciated by experienced navigators of these waters that you will seldom find one give that credit to Arctic success which is so often so fully accorded by the press and the public. Rightly estimating that it was not altogether superior management over his more unfortunate brethren, but largely due to the fortunate circumstance of a lucky season, which is a problem defying calculation. Lieutenant Payer of the Austro-Hungarian expedition has pointedly said: "The commander of an expedition must possess sufficient self-control to return as soon as he becomes convinced of the existence of conditions unfavorable for navigation. It is better to repeat the same attempt on a second or even a third summer, than with conscious impotence to fight against the supremacy of the ice." Splendid as this maxim appears upon the face of it, it nevertheless has the weak point that it is based on things as they should be, rather than on things as they are, and should any Arctic commander, actuated by honorable motives, adopt such a course, he would probably find this maxim, when he returns home, exchanged for that one of Napoleon that "there is nothing so successful as success"; and should the same attempt be repeated on a second or third year it is more than doubtful whether he would find himself retaining his original position. It is often this unfortunate relation existing between an ambitious commander and his inexperienced countrymen at home that has done so much to add to that huge list of rotting hulks and human bones which form a necklace of honor around that pole they could not reach. But let us return to our ship and determine in the scales of experience of what material she shall be made. These tell us that the superiority of iron ships over those of wood no longer holds in the Arctic. The rapid conductive power of the former makes it almost impossible to keep an equable temperature in any portion with out a thick inside coating of some non-conductor, besides the more rapid formation of frosts from condensed moistures along the outer sides of the bunks, causing serious diseases, and greatly aiding the propagation of that most terrible of all Arctic scourges, the scurvy.
The superior strength and endurance of iron over wood in the usual accidents of the temperate and tropical seas seem to be lost when the test comes in the shape of severe pressure from the ice, the elasticity of the wood allowing it to return to its original shape after an almost indefinite number of nippings which are not sufficient to directly crush the vessel, while the same number of equal pressures in its iron companion become slowly accumulative, until it finally succumbs. A wooden vessel, however, may be very properly plated with iron over the hull, for some feet under the water, to protect it from the grinding action of the "ice tongues," which are formed by the unequal melting of the edges of large ice cakes, and projecting their huge submerged points, often for a distance of twenty or thirty feet, become dangerous to a vessel compelled to thread narrow and tortuous channels and "leads" in an open field of pack-ice, where the first intimation of their presence is a low, dull, groaning sound, and a swinging of the ship, probably a half a dozen points of the compass, despite the helmsman, or probably a perfect arrest as the helpless ship comes up broadside on against the cake of ice, and with all sails thrown aback, if that be her motive power. Theoretically, therefore, iron ships are inferior to their weaker but more elastic wooden compeers, and this theory is ably demonstrated by facts in the sad fates of the River Tay in 1868, in Baffin's Bay, and of the Swedish exploring ship Sophia in the north of Spitzbergen; in both instances these vessels sank under circumstances where good wooden vessels would have survived.
Having decided to build a wooden vessel the shape of the hull is not a matter altogether of perfect indifference. The full round ship, or, nautically speaking, a ship with full lines is much more liable to be crushed by ice-pressure than one built with sharp lines, as fully illustrated in Koldewey's German expedition when the Germania, built upon the latter principle, stood the ice-nip without very serious consequences during a heavy storm, while her companion the Hansa was crushed and sunk, she being modeled upon the former plan, and this despite the fact that the Germania was the larger vessel and therefore more liable to destruction than her lighter escort. This last statement would bring us to a consideration of a proper size for an Arctic exploring ship, and while this may vary through tolerably wide limits, depending upon the equally diverse objects to which she may be put and the time she is to be employed in icy seas, still the general principle that a vessel should be as small as possible, compatible with the object in view, is a good one. The smaller and lighter the boat the easier she is to raise by the squeezing floes; and this lifting of a vessel from the glacial vice, in some cases completely from her element has been the salvation of many an ice beleaguered boat. The superiority that a large vessel has over a smaller one in its greater momentum, when called upon to "ram" the ice, so as to force a passage, is compensated by the fact, which experience has fully corroborated, that the large ship will succumb sooner to these severe and repeated shocks that she is thus compelled to bear. It should be added that it is only when the floes are small, and the ice comparatively loose, that any ship, whatever may be her size, can ram it with any fair prospect of effecting a passage through. Again a small ship is more readily handled in the tortuous channels through which she is often compelled to thread her way while working in floes sufficiently open to just allow progress. While all Arctic authorities agree upon the employment of small ships, the exact size in tons is seldom stated, but in the few cases mentioned about four hundred tons may be taken as the maximum limit.
The charging, ramming, or pushing of ice, by a vessel, brings us to the consideration of the motive power most serviceable for ice navigation—steam or sails alone—for it is only by the former that charging can be made possible, except in these extremely attenuated packs where the headway of the sailing craft is sufficient to carry her safely through, but it must be added that such packs are seldom encountered. The use of steam may be laid down as a positive rule to be all important, despite the fact some few persons of no inconsiderable experience as Arctic navigators still denounce the waste of room occupied by the steaming machinery, its necessary fuel for so long a journey, and the almost triple anxiety imposed upon the commander regarding his propeller, which is constantly breaking its blades despite its protector of iron grating, and other derangements of machinery that may here become extremely difficult if not impossible of repair.
The first attempt to use steam power in the frigid zone was essayed by Sir John Ross in the Victory, a small vessel of but eighty-five tons, which sailed from England in 1829, carrying sufficient coal for one thousand hours steaming. At that time the screw-propeller was unknown, and the Victory was fitted up with paddle-wheels, which proved so utterly worthless in the very first ice they met, which, added to an unfortunate accident which permanently disabled the engineer, and the constant attention the new machinery required, finally forced Ross to fall back wholly upon his sailing power, with which he continued his journey, at last abandoning the Victory in Prince Regent's inlet, the first he had lost of thirty-six vessels that he had commanded during forty-two years' service. This complete failure of the paddlewheel in ice-packs, however slight, fittingly fixed their doom forever. The first use of the screw-propeller was on Sir John Franklin's ill-fated expedition in the Erebus and Terror in 1845. How effectually they worked, like all other information concerning that party, is wrapped in mystery. Certain it is Sir John Franklin came nearer accomplishing his object than any of his predecessors, but whether due to his propellers or to a favorable season can only rest on conjecture; suffice to say they were certainly not powerful enough to release him from his two years' besettal in the ice-packs of Victoria strait, unless the cause was due to a scarcity of coal. "With the various improvements in propellers, especially in their protection and other adaptation to this peculiar service, came their more universal use in Arctic navigation; and at this date one seldom hears of an expedition to these regions not thoroughly fitted with this most essential auxiliary to a perfect success. By steam power only can a vessel defy the ever variable winds of those regions.
Running before a breeze and with a current in the same direction is the most favorable condition that can be secured for a sailing craft, not on account of speed which is thus facilitated (for a vessel in the ice should under no circumstances, be she steamer or sailor, exceed six or seven knots per hour, while three or four is not a bad average to adopt) , but on account of the disjointed and open condition of the ice-pack that is produced by this state of affairs. Even in this most favorable state, if she be running towards the narrow portion of a funnel-shaped channel, she will more than probably encounter a gorged ice-pack at this point barring her further progress. A sailor caught in this predicament is in a very precarious condition. To attempt to return against both wind and current is sufficiently hard, as all sailors know, but when there is added to all this the incoming pack-ice, which will certainly add two to three and often four or five points to her lee-way, in constantly attempting to weather the large ice-cakes and often equally dense and larger ice-packs with fruitless results, the time lost in wearing her around or throwing her on the other tack when a channel open one minute has closed in her front, makes it almost if not quite impossible to return, and the grinding, crushing pack soon builds up to her position and encloses her under the most dangerous circumstances that can occur in ice-pressure, unless she can find an "ice dock" like that described by Dr. Kane, and even this, at any minute, is liable to be obliterated by an increase of wind or a pressure clue to the accumulation of ice or change of tide. This state of affairs is, I think, more than probable, illustrated in the case of the besettal of Sir John Franklin's expedition, the Erebus and Terror, in September, 1846, off Cape Felix of King William's Land. Attempting to pass through Victoria Channel, whose southward trending current is at this point greatly narrowed by the converging shores of Victoria Land on the
west, and those of North Somerset, Boothia, and King William's Land on the east, his propellers worthless or his coal supply short, he must have encountered this ice-gorge so late in the year that his ships were almost immediately frozen in, or the summer's winds held him against or in the pack as already indicated. The latter reason seems to me very reasonable, for, during the time my party was on King William's Land, from the time the ice broke up in Victoria channel on July 24th, 1879, until the ice, newly forming, was sufficiently thick to stop a sailing vessel, which was about the middle or latter part of September, I was forced to notice an almost continuous North-North-West veering to North-East wind, evidently caused by the warm rays of the never-setting summer's sun heating and ratifying the atmosphere over the vast snowless plains of upper British America, whose place is filled by the denser air chilled by the great ice-fields of the Arctic ocean. That this Victoria channel is navigable under very favorable circumstances is shown by the fact that one of these two ships afterwards floated clown or sailed through this strait to near the mainland of America, some one hundred and fifty miles, manned by not more than four or five men. On the contrary a steam-vessel may move or escape in any direction the only requisite being a sufficiently open pack. When the state of the ice becomes very favorable, and liable to remain so for some time, she may bank her furnaces, and with all the advantages of a sailing craft prosecute her journey, being ready to steam up at the very first threatening of any obstacle that would require the use of that power to overcome. Although good Arctic authority has said that "the making fast to a floe should never be attempted, except when every hope of navigating in the surrounding waters has been fruitless," and further adds, "as a principle, and so far as it is possible without the exhaustion of her powers, a ship in the ice should endeavor to be in constant motion, even though this entail many changes of her course and the temporary return to a position which had been abandoned," (Payer) still the latter suggestion involving, as it may for a great period of time, the consumption of coal, and in regard to the former suggestion, the many cases where vessels with banked fires have fastened to floes with their ice-anchors, ready to escape almost at a moment's notice, makes these cases of advice not strictly essential in steamers, if they be properly harbored under the lee of the ice. With a sailing vessel this resource becomes much more dangerous. The fastening to an iceberg is not altogether unattended with danger and should only be resorted to when other means of safety are remote. The Polaris was justified, in such an instance, in seizing on to Providence Berg, although I have seen some contrary opinions expressed. A sailing vessel should only do this when it becomes necessary to avoid drifting into a more perilous position.
Again, a steam vessel can go into harbor later than one with sails, and this is of some importance considering the short season during which navigation is at all practicable. This arises mostly from the superior advantage in charging the newly forming ice of the early fall, or ''young ice" as it is generally called. The action of a sailor in this "mush ice" is so well described by Sir Edward Parry, who had seen five Arctic expeditions, all in sailing craft, that I gladly transcribe it verbatim et literatim. "The formation of young ice upon the surface of the water is the circumstance which most decidedly begins to put a stop to the navigation of these seas, and warns the seaman that his season of active operations is nearly at an end. It is indeed scarcely possible to conceive the degree of hindrance occasioned by this impediment, trifling as it always appears before it is encountered. When the sheet has acquired a thickness of about half an inch, and is of considerable extent, a ship is liable to be stopped by it unless favored by a strong and free wind; and even when still retaining her way through the water, at the rate of a mile an hour, her course is not always under the control of the helmsman, though assisted by the nicest attention to the action of the sails, but depends upon some accidental increase or decrease in the thickness of the sheet of ice, with which one bow or the other comes in contact. Nor is it possible in this situation for the boats to render their usual assistance by running out lines or otherwise; for once having entered the young ice, they can only be propelled slowly through it, by digging the oars and boat hooks through it, at the same time breaking it across the bows, and by rolling the boat from side to side. After continuing this laborious work for some time with little good effect, and considerable damage to the planks and oars, a boat is often obliged to return the same way that she came, backing out in the canal thus formed to no purpose. A ship in this helpless state, her sails in vain expanded to a favorable breeze, her ordinary resources failing, and suddenly arrested in her course upon the element through which she has been accustomed to move without restraint, has often reminded me of Gulliver tied down by the feeble hands of Lilliputians; nor are the struggles she makes to effect a release, and the apparent insignificance of the means by which her efforts are opposed, the least just or the least vexatious part of the resemblance." (Parry's second Voyage 1821-22-23.) A sailing vessel caught in this unfortunate state of the ice, must, as Parry says, immediately seek winter quarters in the nearest harbor, and if that be remote and the wind unfavorable or rather, unless it be extremely favorable, the crews will be forced to cut a channel the entire distance for the helpless ship. This Parry was forced to do in 1819, near Melville Island, the channel cut being nearly three miles long. On the contrary with steam power, ice only a half an inch thick is an insignificant obstacle and a vessel thus equipped can steadily force her way through such a thin sheet, while even that proportion of a yard can easily be overcome by charging, requiring only well strengthened bows. Another great advantage of steam over sail power is in the case of a calm with a strong tidal or other current setting towards an ice-pack or stranded iceberg; the salvation of the latter depending upon the relative power of the current and the strength exerted by her small boats to tow her off, while the easy escape of the former is obvious. Also, in the early and late navigation of these waters, the sails are liable to become completely clogged with ice and sleet, rendering them, in extreme cases, impossible of manipulation. This state of affairs nearly proved fatal to the Griper, Captain Lyon, Royal Navy, in September, 1824, in north Hudson's bay, while attempting to battle with a terrible two day's storm, the sleet forming over a foot thick on his decks and proportionally over other parts of the vessel. I should not have entered into so long a discussion on the seemingly palpable superiority of steam power over that of sails, was it not for the fact that such a great proportion of the Arctic expeditions are of a private nature, wherein the means of the liberal donor or donors can not reach the increased expense of steam machinery and fuel, and the undaunted ambition of the contemplated commander, officers, and crew, accept the situation rather than await the vacillation of government aid. Our vessel having filled as many of the above requisites as possible, and being on her way, accompanied by a transport,—if she be a steamer—whose stores of coal and other articles are to be transferred when the ice becomes dangerous for such a craft (presumably not strengthened for that purpose) we will, no doubt find her encountering her first true Arctic experience in iceberg navigation, especially if she be heading against some of those great polar currents which sweep by glacier-bearing lands. In the Atlantic, the great oceanic base for by far the larger number of Arctic expeditions, these monster mountains of ice sometimes reach as low as 40° N. Lat. They are to be dreaded mostly in the night or sometimes in very heavy or very foggy weather. This danger, therefore, steadily decreases as the ship nears the pole, and near the Arctic Circle when she will encounter perpetual daylight, it ceases. It is in the lower latitudes, and especially during dark, foggy nights so common to these regions that the sharpest lookout must be kept, and here also the berg meeting more temperate waters and warmer climate is, in its disintegration widely surrounded by a vast debris of smaller masses most of which are equally as dangerous as the parent berg.
There is one peculiarity of icebergs that is fortunate for those cruising in their vicinity, and that is their visibility at quite long distances during the darkest nights and the heaviest of weather. I remember on the 10th of July, 1878, while making for the eastern entrance of Hudson's strait, and while off the Labrador coast, our second mate, a keen-eyed Scotchman, caught the faintest glimmer ahead, during a misty, thick fog, about 2 o'clock in the morning, when daylight had hardly commenced to break. He estimated it to be about three miles away, and wearing ship and laying to, we discovered in the morning that his conjectures were about right. This monster colossus of ice was flanked on either side by its debris for three or four miles, some of the pieces standing fully as high as the foremast of our little schooner. To my un-seamanlike eyes, even with the aid of a powerful marine glass, I could only make out what seemed to me to be the very slightest break in the dark, inky clouds hugging the horizon, and the mate told me that the navies of the world, a score abreast, could have passed half way between us, and Argus himself would never have seen them. It is the peculiar sheen of their polished faces that penetrates so far, and under circumstances where a bank of snow or a ship's sails of the same size would be invisible. If a ship is approaching icebergs and their accompanying fragments, repeated observations made by plunging a thermometer into a bucket of water drawn from alongside soon shows the fact by decreasing temperature; and these observations are more valuable in the summer than in the winter months, and also the farther south the ice may be encountered, owing to the more rapid change in the observed temperatures under these circumstances; but, as all Arctic navigation is performed in the brief summer of these regions, and as it is only in the lower latitudes that the nights, at this time, are sufficiently long to cause apprehension, these observations become doubly valuable. In the winter season, if the temperature of the water falls as low as 34° F. from a previous higher standard, it may reasonably be inferred that ice is not much farther away than half a mile, and due precaution may be taken accordingly. 42° F. would show about the same distance in the summer time, the thermometer falling rapidly as the vessel approaches. It should be remarked that the thermometer shows a higher temperature in the deep than in the shallow water on banks, shoals, and near the coast line, often falling from 2°F. to 6° F. as the latter are approached. But a good chart and a fair degree of accuracy in dead reckoning will avoid confounding this with the decrease due to approaching ice. After the ice has been passed, although it may not have been seen, owing to the darkness or weather, this fact is soon revealed by the little detective by a rise of its mercurial column. There are many instances recorded where vessels, by an attentive series of these thermometrical observations, have escaped destruction in the iceberg regions, and I am sorry to state that there are other instances of disaster that could no doubt, have been avoided by a timely recourse to this simple expedient. In the case of an iceberg stranded in a current, it is evident that even this valuable sign will fail on the current-washed side, as the chilled waters are swept away in the opposite direction as fast as formed; so that when a vessel is running with an ocean current where a berg is liable to ground, or, where from its great depth, the berg is subject to some more powerful under-current than exists on the surface, the only safeguard is in a vigilant lookout. A sailing vessel should never approach an iceberg too closely if there is danger of becoming becalmed, especially in warm waters, as there disintegration if of a colossal nature is sufficient to throw the largest ship on her beam ends if taken at a disadvantage. Sir John Franklin had the ship's pinnace of the Trent, thrown ninety-eight feet by the disruption of an iceberg, about a half a mile distant, which so completely stove the craft that they were forced to a very annoying delay to repair it before they could return to the ship. This rupture had been determined by the firing of a musket by one of the party. Even if there be a good wind there is considerable danger, in running under the lee of a large berg, the eddying of the wind forcing the ship upon the ice.
The next difficulty that our Arctic voyagers will encounter will be the outlying ice-packs, and much of this subject has already been described in discussing steam power versus sails. The commander now has probably the choice of two methods of reaching his destination, or rather two routes, one of which is to keep well out to sea, if the breadth of the channel will permit, and the other is to hug the shore-line like the little coasters plying between near ports. This subject, like that of steam, seems to be pretty well settled at this hour and in favor of in-shore navigation. Practically illustrated by Barentz, Henry Hudson, Baffin, Sir John Ross and others, including the whalers constantly visiting these climes, it was reserved for Sir Edward Parry to bring the matter in such prominent light before the public as to provoke the most bitter discussion, revive all previous experience on the subject, and institute the most thorough investigations for the future, with the above results. Of this subject, he says, after returning from his first voyage: "Our experience, I think, has clearly shown that the navigation of the polar seas can never be performed with any degree of certainty without a continuity of land. It was only by watching the occasional openings between the ice and the shore that our late progress to the westward was effected; and had the land continued in the desired direction there can be no question that we should have continued to advance, however slowly, toward the completion of our enterprise." In his second voyage he reiterates substantially the same opinion. So necessary was the continuity of land considered by the British Lords of the Admiralty, after Parry's able practical deductions, that several expeditions were by them fitted out to explore the Arctic coast-line of the North American continent, to determine this shore in order to more intelligently direct a vessel through the north-west passage in conformity with this idea. One of the greatest advantages of coast water navigation over that more remote is the assurance of a winter harbor should the young ice form so rapidly as to prevent further navigation, a not unusual circumstance in these regions where the change of season is short and decisive. Another consideration on in-shore navigation I will give in the words of its author, Lieut. Payer, who says: "A strip of open water which retreats before the growth of the land-ice only in winter, forms itself along coasts, and especially under the lee of those exposed to marine currents running parallel to them; and this coast water does not arise from the thawing of the ice through the great heat of the land, but from the land's being an immovable barrier against the wind, and therefore against ice currents. The inconstancy of the wind, however, may baffle all the calculations of navigation; for coast water, open as far as the eye can reach, may be filled with ice in a short time by a change of the wind. Land ice often remains on the coast even during summer, and in this case there is nothing to be clone but to find the open navigable water between the extreme edge of the fast-ice and the drift-ice. Should the drift become pack-ice, the moment must be awaited when winds setting in from the land carry off the masses of ice blocking the navigation, and open a passage free from ice, or at least only partially covered with drift-ice." It is evident that navigation in coast waters must be slow and gradual, though it has always been attended with the greatest advantages. Still another important advantage of coast water navigation over that remote from land, and which I do not see mentioned by any Arctic authority, is in the fact that if the body of water in which the vessel be cruising is of considerable extent and ploughed by ocean currents, the ice well out to sea does not become fixed nor solidly frozen during even the severest winters, and a vessel thus embayed is at the mercy of the ice-packs and currents, at a time when even if she were liberated the intense cold of that season would make it rigidly impossible to manipulate her, and, in fact, a liberation under these circumstances would be the very last thing to be desired. The Tegetthoff in her memorable drift was thus fortunate, and Sir John Franklin's ships had the advantage that Victoria channel, through which it seems they attempted to take the middle course, is sufficiently narrow to freeze from shore to shore, and prevent the miseries of a winter's drift. Sir George Back, in the Terror, drifting through Fox channel and Hudson's strait in the winter of 1836-37, did not fare so well; and his terrible sufferings, unable to house his vessel in snow banks which were constantly torn from his ship's sides by the ceaseless disruption of the ice-fields, as fast as made, and many times forced, during heavy gales, to hastily abandon his ship, with a scanty supply of clothing and food in the Arctic winter night, expecting the crushing of his vessel in the whirling, upheaving floes, by his experience shows plainly the great extent of misery and sufferings which a crew may be called upon to bear when not safety harbored for the winter. In-shore navigation is not without its hindrances, however, and especially is this the case where the water near the coast is very shallow, and this which could be only remedied by a light-draught vessel, has the disadvantage that such a vessel can not conform to the build already indicated. This is peculiarly the case on the Polar shores of the mainland of America, Asia, and Europe, while in the channels and waters north of them, the land rises higher, the navigable water approaches more closely to the shore, and progress forward becomes more easily assured. Also in coast water cruising, a vessel forced upon the shore by the incoming pack-ice, backed by a heavy gale, is in a more precarious state than one simply grounded or lifted upon an ice-field.
A ship once fairly beset and strongly held during a gale is completely at the mercy of the elements, and there can be no real good accomplished by the severe tasks of warping and continual shifting of ice anchors which only exhaust the crew and render them more or less unable to take a thorough advantage of a favorable situation should one occur. Parry, however, under these circumstances did not hesitate to employ his crews to their utmost at the hawsers and sails plainly acknowledging that "the exertions made by heaving at hawsers, or otherwise, are of little more service than in the occupation they furnish to the men's minds under such circumstances of difficulty; for when the ice is fairly acting against the ship, ten times the strength and ingenuity could in reality avail nothing." But the greater majority of ice navigators are now decidedly of the opinion that it is best to yield to fate and reserve the men's strength for palpable efforts. Still, in these besettals, the mind of the commander must be ever active, for now events follow each other so rapidly, that a favorable chance for rescue is passed before it can be fairly weighed in all its aspects. Sir John Ross aptly describes such a situation when he gives a scene in his Arctic experience during a heavy gale with his ship the Victory in the ice-pack of the Gulf of Boothia: "The attention is troubled to fix on anything amid such confusion ; still must it be alive, that it may seize on the single moment of help or escape that may occur. Yet, with all this, and it is the hardest task of all, there is nothing to be done, no effort to be made. The navigator must be patient, as if he were unconcerned or careless, waiting as he best can for the fate, be it what it may, which he can not influence nor avoid."
A ship may winter in the ice under somewhat varied circumstances. She may be drifting in the pack during this time, unable to make a harbor, as in the cases of the Terror, Tegetthoff, Fox, and others; or she may be frozen in the hummocky pack but not subject to drift although not in harbor, or she may be safely ensconced in some good sheltered haven. In the first case, the most dangerous of all, but fortunately the least numerous since the employment of steam, nothing can be done but await events. A northward drift is a most perilous circumstance, and although in the only case on record—that of the Tegetthoff—the crew managed to escape, it was only by a miraculous combination of favorable events. It is this fact solely that has led so many Arctic expeditions to follow that continuity of shore land which is swept by southward trending currents in preference to all others. Many Arctic sailors of experience have even strongly contended that it is a matter to be at once considered, when a ship is thus probably circumstanced, if she should not be immediately abandoned before the northing gained would seriously compromise all hope of escape. In a winter's drift it is impossible to properly "bank" a vessel, as the encasing with snow-walls is generally termed, and it is consequently a severe labor to keep an equable temperature in the unprotected ship. In the case of the unfortunate Tegetthoff, Payer says, that "while in the berth close by the stove, there was a temperature ranging between 100 F. and 131 F., in the other, there was one which would have sufficed for the North Pole itself. In the former a hippopotamus would have felt himself quite comfortable, and Orel, the unhappy occupant of it, was often compelled to rush on deck, when the ice-pressures alarmed us, experiencing in passing from his berth to the deck a difference of temperature amounting to 189°F. In vessels properly "banked," on the contrary, no such variations of temperature need be encountered, even in the severest weather." This "banking" is most conveniently done by Esquimaux, when their services can be secured, as their superior ingenuity in snow construction enables them to enclose the vessel in even several concentric snow-houses thus securing the most complete and equable temperature, with the least amount of material, which is quite a consideration when this monstrous mass has to be removed in the spring in order to float the ship.
"It is an ill wind that blows nobody any good" and even the drifting winter-beset ship has some advantages in this condition which it would not be uninteresting to note. If drifting towards more temperate waters, as is generally the case in following the more usual routes, she is almost certain of a safe and speedy release in the early spring months, and the constant state of alarm experienced by all ships crews while in these involuntary journeys, from ice-pressures and threatenings of a general destruction of the ice-fields has almost its compensation for good in the necessarily banished ennui and lonesomeness of the long polar night with its accompanying evils of idleness and disease. Forced activity to overcome lonesomeness soon wearies, loses its effect and becomes really a punishment, while that prompted by danger never loses its stimulating effect while based upon the inherent disposition to self preservation.
A vessel wintering in the ice, unable to secure a harbor, but not subject to drift, may be subject to much danger when the fields break up in the following summer, and this danger will generally be greater the farther she is from land, owing to her earlier liberation, probably long before the navigable season may commence. In a vessel far from land much of the benefit derived from the voluntary exercise indulged in by the crew by short rambles, hunts, etc., especially in the early spring and late autumn when it is of the most value, is necessarily lost.
A vessel safely anchored in a good harbor is necessarily in the most favored condition of all. She may unbend her sails, lower her yards and topmasts, presenting a minimum of surface to any gale, while awaiting her freezing in, which is especially necessary when the character of the bottom of the harbor is such that there is danger of dragging the anchor. Once frozen in securely, the anchor is raised, the rudder cut out and unshipped, and all these with the stores and provisions may be placed on the shore conveniently by and there room be made for the winter's entertainments, exercises and studies. A vessel is then "housed in" which is done by building a shed over the upper deck with lumber brought for that purpose. This house should be about seven feet high, the lumber covered with canvas, this with a layer of moss or turf six or eight inches thick, cut in the early fall before it has frozen, and dried as much as possible, and this layer of turf again covered with from three to four feet of snow, which should be continuous with the snow walls or snow heaps placed along the sides of the ship. Light is secured by large, thick blocks of ice placed in the sides of this "house" at convenient intervals. If turf or canvas is not employed the temperature of the "house" must be kept below the freezing point or the continual melting of the snow forming pools of ice on the ship's deck will be disagreeable in the extreme; also, a housing solely of canvas, as has been often employed, prohibits the use of a thick layer of non-conducting snow or turf, and, except during a wind, it is but little better than no protection at all. The housing should extend the whole length of the ship if possible, but if cut short at the middle portion, a not unusual method to save lumber, the exposed deck should be treated to a covering of snow and turf similar to that placed on the house. Where moss or turf is not to be had fine sand is almost equally good, but is much heavier and can only be used on horizontal or slightly inclined surfaces. The importance of securing a winter harbor near where Esquimaux can visit the ships is not to be over estimated. The clothing procured from them is far superior to any that can be manufactured in civilization for withstanding the severe temperatures of those regions; their companionship does much to alleviate the lonesomeness of the winter's solitude, for they are generally a most cheerful, merry hearted, and contented race,—their services in procuring game from both land and water to keep the crew in a healthy state and especially to combat the scurvy is apparent, while in case of disaster their humble abodes are always open to the shipwrecked sailor until there can be convenient times for retreat to reach more civilized succor—a retreat in which the white man may be greatly aided by the native method of transportation. A fire hole being dug in the ice near by which must be opened every morning and evening, and a snow house thrown over it, if natives are convenient, to protect it from drifting snow, and our ship is ready to pass her Arctic winter unmolested until the coming summer opens a renewal of her labors. Should the circumstances of the case warrant an early start in the season, it will probably be necessary to cut a very long channel through from six to ten feet of ice of sufficient dimensions in length and width to float the ship to the outer open water. This channel is generally constructed as shown in horizontal projection in the following figure.
The channel b. b. b. b. is always brought up alongside the ship, as shown, since should she draw more water than the thickness of the ice, and the channel be brought up immediately under her, the outgoing tide or a strong wind might sweep her out before it was intended she should move. The scarf lines cc. cc, formed in sawing, are sufficiently intelligible to be understood without an explanation, the ice blocks a. a. a, being allowed to float out along with the ebbing tide, a single person directing each one as fast as sawed off' to prevent its rotation and consequently binding in the channel. If the vessel delays her starting until after the solar rays have made considerable impression on the ice of the harbor, it will save much labor to remove the snow along the contemplated scarf-lines of the channel, and place thereon a covering of black seaweed, sand, dirt, or ashes which will have cut deeply into the ice by the time the sawing is necessary. These layers, of course, should be very thin, otherwise they will protect the ice instead of acting as ready conductors of the sun's heat. A little funnel-shaped harbor with but few projections along its converging sides may sometimes be relieved of all its ice at one time by a small amount of sawing along these serrated edges and a happy combination of tide, wind, and good management. This is especially the case where the rise and fall of the tide exceeds the thickness of the ice, the consequent vertical oscillation of the ice keeping it broken up in hummocky masses along the shore line. The use of blasting apparatus has so far been of but little use, wherever used, still I think a series of small charges, fired electrically, giving rather a pushing than a concussive effect, might be used advantageously in removing quite large masses of obstructing ice. Blasting, I believe, would also be more efficacious in harbors not fed by fresh water streams, as here the ice is more brittle, less tenacious and elastic, and consequently harder to remove by the percussive power of explosives. The difficulty of sawing increases in a rapid ratio with the thickness of the floe, and when its depth becomes so great as to allow a play of but a foot or two with the ice-saws it becomes essentially impossible. Ice-saws if very thick impose severe labor on those operating them by their great weight; if thin, they will warp and cramp in the thick ice, also creating severe labor. As all these contingencies cannot be foreseen it is desirable to have quite an assortment of these utensils varying in length and weight. A sailing vessel can nearly wait until she is liberated by the forces of nature, as this will probably be the earliest date at which she can take advantage of the season owing to her peculiar motive power. While a vessel is certainly safer when in harbor, this position may not always be without its dangers. She may have entered such a haven during an exceptionally open season and unless this recurs within the limit of time allowed by the ship's provisions she must be abandoned to save the lives of the crew. Such was the experience of the Investigator, abandoned in 1854, in the Bay of Mercy, Bank Sand, by McClure of the Royal Navy, while on a search for Sir John Franklin.
It would be a useless waste of time to go into the various advantages derived from employing two ships instead of one wherever the funds available will allow such a course. It proved the salvation of Parry on his third journey and other instances are not wanting. They should both be provided with equal motive power, steam or sails, in order to prevent separation. The use of balloons to make slight ascents—they being made fast to the ship—to enable the ice master to obtain a more comprehensive view of the state of the ice, has never yet been experimented upon, though by many recommended, and consequently cannot be either rejected or accepted as an auxiliary in this sort of cruising. Certain it is, however, that nothing is more deceitful than ice packs or ice drifts at a distance, the most invulnerable looking, upon a closer examination, proving to be the most disjointed oftentimes, and the reverse.
Although from this rather long list of probable Arctic accidents to which a ship is exposed escape would seem rare, yet after all it is wonderful the small number of craft actually lost in this dangerous species of navigation, in proportion to the whole number engaged.
The compass, that all important little guide in more favored zones, here becomes almost practically useless. In North Hudson's bay and strait, and, in general, near the magnetic pole, its sluggish oscillations are easily overcome by the most insignificant local attraction, which it is impossible to avoid upon shipboard. The farther removed from this great center of magnetic force, necessarily the more reliance can be placed on the needle. While in this district the direction may be approximately determined by a watch or chronometer rated to mean local time conjoined with the well known uniform motion in azimuth of the sun which, barring cloudy weather, will be continually in sight during the twenty four hours during the greater portion of the voyage. This direction will be sufficiently exact for a navigation which after all depends rather on the bearings of the "leads" and ice barriers than on any determinate points of the compass. The fact that a vessel should follow a continuity of land, as already described, lessens the value of this instrument while capes and headlands can be kept in view.