After making hasty preparations at Norfolk, Va., consisting in the addition of a light bow sheathing, storm hatches and bulkheads; sending the battery and ordnance stores on shore, and filling up with coal and extra provisions, the Alliance left Hampton Roads June 17, 1881, on a novel and extraordinary cruise. The run to St. Johns, Newfoundland, was made in eight days under very favorable circumstances. There we found the most unfavorable reports regarding the season. It was said the Alliance could not even make Iceland, as the ice was reported to be remarkably low and fast. Efforts were made to obtain a pilot for the coast of Iceland, but there seems to be little or no communication between Iceland and Newfoundland, so that not only could we find no pilot, but could obtain no information whatever, not even in regard to the coal supply. We therefore filled up with coal, carrying large bins in each gangway and piles of bags on the quarterdeck, and continued on our way, and with the exception of a twenty-four hours' gale from the SW., encountered immediately after leaving St. Johns, the run to Iceland was remarkably pleasant and delightful, the sea being generally smooth, undisturbed by a ripple.
Reikiavik, Iceland, was reached about ten o'clock on the evening of July 9, and as the last day's run had placed us sufficiently far north to have continual daylight, many of the officers were on deck at midnight watching the natives as they pulled around the ship, regarding with surprise the first American man-of-war ever in their waters. We found the French corvette Dupleix in port and obtained some information from her officers in regard to navigation around Iceland; also the English yacht Vanadis, whose commander, Lieutenant McIvor, R. N. R., kindly took charge of our mail on his return to England. Unsuccessful efforts were made to procure pilots for the coast of Norway, but it was suggested that among the Norwegian fishermen who frequent the eastern coast of Iceland during the summer months, we might procure some one familiar with the coast about Hammerfest. Coal was found in sufficient quantity to enable us to fill up as before, and arrangements were made to insure a supply on our return in the autumn. Little, if anything, could be learned in regard to the ice, the Icelanders living an isolated sort of life, absorbed in fish, sheep, and horses, entirely careless of the outside world.
On the 15th of July we left our anchorage off Reikiavik, and skirted close along the coast to the southward and eastward, with clear and pleasant weather—another charming trip. We obtained views of many tremendous mountains and glaciers, among them Mount Hecla, and noted a remarkable change in the appearance of the shores as we rounded the southern point of the island. While the land had heretofore appeared bleak and desolate, it now was snow-bound and covered with ice, giving unmistakable evidence of the southerly cold current along the eastern shores. Keeping close to the coast, we ran into Seidis fiord and held communication with some Norwegian fishing vessels. From them we learned that only vessels from the southern part of Norway came to these waters, and consequently all hopes of a Hammerfest pilot were given up, and putting the ship about we continued the cruise with remarkably good weather for eight days, reaching Hammerfest on the 24th of July. The similarity of the peaks along the northwest coast of Norway makes the land appear like a row of saw-teeth at a distance, but as it was our good fortune to have fair weather, no difficulty was experienced in making the entrance through Soro Sund, through which a pilot who had served in our navy during the war took us into the harbor of Hammerfest, the northernmost city of the world.
Here again we received the most discouraging reports regarding the ice. It was said that the fishing fleet had been driven back by the ice; that it had not been known so low for forty years, and that the Alliance was not properly fitted and ought not to make the attempt. This, from people who pass their lives in the vicinity of the ice, was not very encouraging; nevertheless, after a stay of five days, during which we obtained a pilot for Spitzbergen, and filled the ship with coal to her utmost capacity, we started on our cruise into the new and untried waters of the Arctic.
Although large quantities of ice had been reported in the vicinity of the Grand Banks just before our departure from Hampton Roads, our expectations of encountering it were not realized. The greatest caution was exercised, and the strictest possible lookout kept, but St. Johns was reached without a sight of even the ice-sky. This experience was repeated in the run to Iceland, and again in that from Iceland to Hammerfest, and it was only after sighting Bear Island that our first encounter with the frozen fields took place in latitude 74°. This too after we had heard at all points the most discouraging rumors of the immense amount of ice in the North Atlantic. Before sighting the ice which surrounded Bear Island, the ice-glimpse, ice-blink or ice-sky was pointed out by the pilot, a peculiar hard white appearance of the sky close to the horizon, which enabled him to say that ice was there long before it made its appearance. This blink seems like many other sea signs, to be by no means infallible. Many discussions in regard to it, in its very presence, were held on deck by the officers. The peculiar appearance of the sky was at times noted all around the horizon, when it was known that there was no ice in certain directions, and again it failed to put in an appearance, and the ice proper was suddenly discovered close aboard. While running along the ice-pack in daylight the ice-sky would be seen and noted by all hands, and the breaks of open water in the pack would be shown by a darker watery appearance directly above them. In foggy weather it assumes a more luminous appearance, visible a half mile perhaps, and resembles very much a greatly subdued electric light. It is not marked by any scintillations, as might be expected if it were caused by reflection, and is probably the effect produced by the ice upon the temperature of the air immediately over it.
Fortunately, Bear or Cherry Island was sighted in clear and pleasant weather. The ice was found first low and somewhat broken, extending about three miles from the land to the southward, and to the east and west as far as the eye could reach. The sea was smooth, but on entering the loose ice, a considerable increase of swell was noticed, a thing said by the pilot to be almost always found. The ship stood in toward the land as far as was consistent with the orders, and an effort was made to find a lead and make a landing on the island. The locality in which Nordenskiold had left a tide-mark in 1864 being well described, it was hoped that a measurement might be made and another mark left near the same place, but no lead could be found. After lying off and on for eighteen hours, the ship was again forced into the ice as far as possible in a different stage of the tide. The condition of the ice had greatly changed in the interval, miles of it having disappeared. We ran within two miles of the southern end of the island, and although the ice-limit to the eastward remained unchanged, that to the westward was not more than five miles away, while the day before it could not be seen from the crow's nest. The ice appeared loose about the southern end as on the previous day, but as the swell was much heavier, it was not considered advisable to send a boat in, and after heaving to, firing guns and making signals to attract the attention of any chance castaway, we finally left Bear Island to its magnificent solitude. It is a remarkably steep and dreary snowcapped island, with a mountain appropriately named Mount Misery at the southern extremity. There are said to be two tolerably good harbors, and coal is found in several places. It was formerly a great resort for walrus and bear hunters and fishermen, but of late years it seems to have been absolutely deserted by both man and beast.
Standing to the northward on the 1st of August, we met a small fishing boat, which had been in the neighborhood for two weeks, awaiting an opportunity to get north. Our course was consequently shaped more to the westward, and we were very much surprised to find the track completely clear, with no signs of ice whatever. The next day Mt. Hornsund appeared about seventy-five miles distant, and we stood more to the eastward in order to make Bel Sund. It is said under favorable circumstances Bear Island is not lost sight of until Mt. Hornsund is made, and this probably accounts for the dislike of the fishermen to run their vessels to the westward and so avoid the ice, which remains much later in the area directly between the two, than it does further to the westward. Mt. Hornsund, with its pinnacled snow-clad summit towering high in the air, presented a beautiful sight. It is situated on the southern extremity of Spitzbergen, and about 140 miles north of Bear Island, serving as a landmark for the fishermen, who wait for days to get a sight of it and thus learn of their whereabouts. Continuing our course, we stood into Bel Sund on the forenoon of the 3d against a heavy easterly gale, blowing directly out, finding large quantities of ice. Recherche Harbor was completely closed. We communicated with two fishing boats found anchored close to the shore, tolerably well protected, but deeming it unadvisable to remain, as the ice would probably start out under the influence of the strong wind, we continued on our way up the coast, running into Ice Fiord and Green Harbor early the following morning. In attempting to make the run under sail, we found, immediately after getting to the northward of the entrance to Bel Sund, that the wind died out almost instantly, the line of demarcation being plainly visible on the water later, and the conclusion was formed that the gale was local. Green Harbor was found clear, to the hanging glacier at its lower extremity, and quite a fleet of fishing vessels, one of which was a steamer, were lying quietly at anchor near the eastern shore, about half way down the bay near the mouth of quite a large stream of fresh water. Communicating with the fishermen, we heard very discouraging reports. An English excursion steamer, the Pallas, had left that morning on her return, driven back by the ice, which had been found close down on the northwest extremity of Spitzbergen, and the Forsog, the fishing steamer mentioned, had also been driven back to this harbor on account of the low condition of the ice, which prevented her taking the usual fishing station to the northward. Green Harbor is very different in appearance from the bleak cliffs outside in the fiord, and merits its name, the rocky mountain sides appearing to be covered with a green moss, which at a distance might be taken for grass. Some few stunted grasses were found there, among them the scurvy grass and a few small colored flowers like violets.
In this locality were also found some twenty or thirty graves, an ordinary wooden headboard of one bearing date of 1709. It was quite a relief to see such a number of vessels and so many human beings in a place which we had been led to believe was inaccessible. We met many of the fishermen, although our interchange of sentiment was somewhat limited on account of the difference of language, but were quite agreeably surprised to find that three of these Norwegian masters could speak tolerable English. We procured from them our first wild reindeer venison, some eider duck eggs, and all the codfish wanted.
Remaining one night, we left Green Harbor August 5, early in the morning, and stood across to Safe Havn in Ice Fiord, directly opposite. This bay, recommended as a good anchorage, was found full of ice, but a boat was lowered and sent in to search for a tide-mark left by Nordenskiold on a small island at the southeast extremity. The accessible sides of this island were carefully searched and the boat was dragged some distance over and among the floating ice near it, but no mark was found. A copper plate with the ship's name and the date was secured in a partially sheltered niche on the southeast face of the island, nine feet above low water, but from the crumbling character of the rock it is very doubtful how long it will remain.
Standing out and to the northward, Hakluyt's Headland was made the following noon. Although at no time on the way up was the coast nearer than twenty miles, it did not appear five miles away, and the bleak high cliffs were raised by refraction more than a third of their height, so that their bases seemed to be set in an immense mirror. Pushing as far north as possible, the commanding officer in the crow's nest selecting the leads through the ice, which was found moving opposite the seven ice-mountains and Magdalena Bay, a way was threaded to the northward and westward to a latitude of 80° 01' N.
Further progress was impracticable, the ice stretching away to the northward, westward, and eastward, in cold bleak fields close covered by the hard steely ice-sky, without a darker spot to show the presence of open water. The ship remained in this position for nearly two hours taking soundings, 282 fathoms, making observations for position by Sumner's method, and collecting specimens from the floating ice. Thinking it might be our only opportunity to get north, all felt very proud of the ship's achievement in crossing the 80th parallel. Afterwards we passed along the edge of the pack to the westward, and on the following day stood to the eastward, running close to the shore of Amsterdam Island. Here also was noted a remarkable disappearance of the ice; all that which had been moving down the coast as far south as the seven ice-mountains had entirely disappeared, as had also our open water to the northward, and solid masses of ice appeared close down to the Smeerenberg. Any attempt to get to the northward or eastward was consequently impracticable, and after sounding and dredging in the vicinity the ship ran in and came to anchor in Bjoren Bay, South Gat, on the 7th August, to await a more favorable condition of the ice, and to enable the officers to make the collection of specimens ordered. One very exciting incident here was the white bear hunt.
Full moon occurring August 10, Mr. Schwenk and myself left with a party in the whale-boat to establish a bench mark on Hakluyt's Headland, the northwestern point of Amsterdam Island, about fifteen miles from the ship's anchorage. Away about thirty hours, rainy and foggy all the time and a gale from the southwest, with heavy seas on our return, it was a trip long to be remembered. On our arrival at the headland no ice was in sight except in the Smeerenberg, but as the weather was thick our limit of vision was not greater at any time than ten miles; but during our short stay we were afforded another opportunity of noting the remarkable movement of the ice with no visible cause, there being no wind. After having marked high water, while searching for a place to leave the upper mark, I cast a glance to the northward and the ice was plainly visible. Raised by refraction it seemed much higher than any before observed, and was moving rapidly towards us. Watching it carefully, I was first under the impression that it would be prudent to start on our return at once, but disliking to give up the work only half done, I waited, and finally had the satisfaction of seeing it move away as rapidly as it came, disappearing suddenly in the same mysterious way. We determined the establishment of the port, the rise and fall of the tide, took dip observations and established the bench mark on a huge boulder in the middle of the bay, just to the west of Hakluyt's Headland, known to the pilot as Amsterdam Bugt. It consisted of a copper plate secured as firmly as possible to the boulder, marked with ship's name and date, eleven feet above low water, and this mark was carried up the cliff on the west side of the headland by means of the tide staff and a deal of hard scrambling on the part of Mr. Schwenk and myself to a point one hundred and eighty-four feet above low water, where a composition spike was driven, and the ship's name and date were painted on a natural tablet close by.
On the 12th August another attempt was made to get to the northward and eastward with the ship, but the ice was found close-packed and impenetrable to the north end of the Vogelsang, so we stood to the southward and westward, making traverses in obedience to orders, closely examining the ice for evidences of any living beings, and locating and charting its limits, standing back to the northward and lying close to the ice the 18th and 19th. On the 20th we found the ice well back and weather good, and on that day made the highest latitude 80° 10', longitude 11° 20' E. Continuing along the edge of the ice from this point to the southward, we reached longitude 13° 15' E., in the vicinity of Biscayen Huk, when the ice-pack reached the land, forming an impenetrable barrier. We sighted Welcome Point and Verlegnen Huk, and on the run west stood down to make out the two Norways, and then directly west, clearing the land none too soon, as we had to pass close along the edge of the ice-pack, which had moved ten miles south during our trip to the eastward.
Continuing the traverses until the 24th, we ran over to Green Harbor to see if it were possible to replenish our coal supply, which was running rather low. We tried to obtain some from the Forsog on the eve of sailing, but as her master had none to spare, an expedition in charge of Lieutenant West was sent on shore as a mining party. About four tons of good bituminous coal were procured, and as this was two days' supply to the ship for heating purposes, the trip to the harbor was not considered a failure. The coal was taken out of a seam about two feet deep, dipping fifteen degrees along the face of the cliff, which formed the eastern bank of the bay. The supply appeared to be unlimited, but no more could be obtained for lack of mining tools. In carrying out the orders of the Department, the coal question was a very serious one. Although the winds were light and unreliable throughout the entire trip, considerable distance was made in the traverses under sail. Considering the fact that it required an expenditure of more than two and a half tons daily for heating and distilling, and that being constantly in the vicinity of the ice it was necessary to keep steam in a comparative state of readiness; the fact that the Alliance remained 50 days upon this trip on an expenditure of 160 tons of coal, is an evidence of the careful consideration and close calculation of the problem by the commanding officer.
Finding it impossible to increase our coal supply, we left Green Harbor, and stood to the southward and westward, continuing the traverses. We determined the ice-limit in 77° N., and standing back to the eastward, weathered Bear Island in a gale of wind with thick weather, passing within six miles of the island without catching a glimpse of it, and then stood again to the westward as far as 8° E. Upon reaching the limit of steaming distance with the coal on hand, the ship was headed for Hammerfest, where we arrived on the nth September. Some anxiety had been felt on our account in Hammerfest, and attempts were made to dissuade the commander from returning, but after nearly exhausting the supply of coal at Hammerfest, the vessel started again to the northward on the 16th. It should be remembered that the first trip north had been made in daylight, our side-lights being used for the first time when weathering Bear Island on the return, and this gave a certain comparative feeling of safety, for dangers could, under such circumstances, be seen in time to be avoided. On the second trip, however, night was coming on, and coming on rapidly. When it is considered that, at our position on the 22d September, in latitude 79° N., the meridian altitude of the sun was only 11°, that the wind was fitful and furious, that the temperature was getting lower and lower, that snow and sleet squalls were frequent, and that the movement of the ice to the southward of us was unknown, it cannot be wondered that great anxiety was felt. At that time we had obtained a glimpse of the entrance to Ice Fiord and seen Prince Charles Foreland very much changed in appearance, as it was completely covered with snow to the water's edge. On that day, the 22d, strong breezes from the northward and westward made it possible that the ice might be driven in close to the land, and our Captain's intention of proceeding to the northward until the ice should stop the way was almost given up. A favorable shift of the wind, however, to the southward and eastward afforded an opportunity to make still another effort, and it was not until long after dark, at about 6.30 P. M. on the night of the 23d, in a thick fog, with a sudden heavy squall of wind and snow from the north, that the idea of going further north was abandoned as unsafe and impracticable, and the vessel was headed to the southward and westward, in latitude 79° 03' N., with the expectation of picking up the ice line to the westward near by and following it down as ordered. Continuing the course as shown by the chart, considerable surprise was felt at finding no ice; so when clear of the old track, the ship was headed more to the westward to find it. Certain that each hour must bring it to view, and unwilling to abandon the search, the ship was continued on her westerly way to longitude 0° 50' E., when ice was reported close aboard on the port bow, unexpectedly trending nearly east and west. The ship was put about immediately and steamed along the ice full speed. The wind was from the southeast, increasing in force to a strong gale, with the weather very thick and foggy, with snow and sleet squalls, but with no sea. This was an occasion upon which the ice-blink was our salvation. Running as fast as possible, changing our course only on the warning of this luminous light, headed off on all easterly courses, so that at one time we were heading true WNW, we managed finally to work our way out of this pocket or opening in the ice at nearly the same point, where twenty-four hours before we were supposed to have entered it. Shortly after a partial lifting of the fog showed us the limitless ice-pack in different points, moving very rapidly to the north under the influence of the strong southerly gale. An hour of awe-inspiring suspense was that from six to seven P. M. of the 25th September. All hands were on deck, the Captain upon the forecastle peering out into the darkness and storm, the fog so thick that it could be felt, the ship and rigging completely covered with ice and snow, which served to mark out her shape in the black night with a luminous ghastly light, contending with an unseen danger of whose limits nothing was known.
I shall never forget the intensity of feeling caused by the almost constant repetition of the command "starboard," "starboard," as the spectral ice-glimpse would suddenly appear directly ahead, knowing that each spoke of the wheel was sending us farther away from the open water and safety. Indeed when running WNW, hope seemed left behind. The revival of hope, the eager expectancy, the revulsion of feelings, as "port," "port," "port" was successively heard, and finally the sense of security when the ship dipped her nose nearly bows under in the heavy open sea, have left an impression upon the minds of all on board never to be effaced, A closing of the ice upon us that night would have probably been fatal and added another to the long list of Arctic disasters, which, in point of numbers, would have been greater than any before. The ship was not in any way fitted for an encounter with the ice, the nearest land, desolate Spitzbergen, was two hundred miles away, and Hammerfest, the nearest port, was over seven hundred miles distant, almost dead to windward; so, had the ship been nipped, she and her whole complement of one hundred and eighty men would have disappeared from the face of the earth without ever making a sign.
After our lucky escape the course was continued to the southward, keeping constantly in cold water, weather thick and foggy, and never probably far from the ice. The next encounter with it was on the morning of the 28th, latitude 74° 30' N. Upon this occasion the ice-glimpse did not appear, and we were running in among small ice pieces; at two o'clock A. M., before there was any warning, stopping the engines, the sound of the sea upon the ice could be plainly and loudly heard to the southward and westward like the roar of a surf not more than 300 yards away. The ship was headed to the northward of east, and stretching along slowly we located the ice line as charted. On the following day, one of the very few pleasant ones experienced, we sighted the ice-sky plainly; after that, the trip to the southward was passed in an almost continuous gale from the SW., dead abreast, occasionally lulling, but generally blowing with force of eight. With the coal nearly exhausted, in a ship with no weatherly qualities whatever, it seemed that our only chance lay In standing to the eastward for the coast of Norway, it being doubtful whether we could pass to the northward of Iceland on account of the low condition of the ice. Thanks to the "sweet little cherub that sits up aloft," we managed in one of the comparative lulls to make the NE. coast of Iceland, and communicated with some fishing vessels, and the steamer Nord Kap, hearing from them that under the lee of this island the weather had been pleasant, with little or no wind for the whole month, and that the ice was nowhere near the north coast. It was concluded, therefore, to make the passage to the north; and as long as we remained north of Iceland we had a respite, but immediately on running out from under the lee to the west we met a tremendous gale from SW., lasting twenty-four hours, more furious than any before. Taking advantage of the lull following this gale, no time was lost, and no extra distance run in making an anchorage in the Faxe Bugt, six miles from Reikiavik, on the night of October 9. In all these heavy blows to the northward, and off the coast of Iceland, it was particularly noticeable how rapidly the sea would rise upon the increase of wind, and how rapidly it would fall in the lulls, showing that the winds must be local, although constantly from the same direction. While standing down the coast of Iceland after the gale, in smooth water, when off the north entrance of the Brede Bugt, we ran into a whirlpool or tide-rip. The water commenced to pour over the side, and the ship took up an uneasy heavy twisting motion, which very soon caused her head to be put straight off shore.
The following morning, October 10, we ran into the same anchorage we left three months before off Reikiavik, having made in the meantime without loss or accident of any kind, fortunate to the very end, a cruise in the frozen Arctic Ocean.
THE ICE.
The ice encountered throughout the cruise was low, generally from six to ten feet out of water, never higher than twenty-five feet. Occasionally when running towards the pack or skirting it, large detached high pieces would appear on the horizon, but on approaching, after running a much longer distance than was apparently necessary, they would grow gradually less, and finally merge into the solid, almost level field, the high appearance being caused by peculiar atmospheric conditions upon the upturned and overlapping edges of the floes.
Upon one occasion, no ice in sight, we made what appeared to be a considerable fleet of fishing vessels on the horizon, and ran down to communicate, only to find ourselves some hours later alongside the low and apparently level ice-pack. The loose ice into which the vessel was driven was generally white, water-eaten and snow-like. Upon encountering the bluish-green ice, she was immediately headed off, as the latter is as hard as a rock, and its shape beneath the surface very doubtful, so that in attempting to avoid that portion in sight, the ship might be stove under water. While at anchor in South Gat, we had some experience with the glacial ice, which was heard breaking from the faces of the glaciers with a tremendous boom, and as it went floating by it was a source of considerable anxiety. A peculiarity of this anchorage under the lee of a small island, called Moff Island, was the fact that quantities of ice came floating down through the Gat and instead of going to sea, would circle round the island and attack the ship again from the smaller channel.
In the vicinity of the ice, seals were occasionally seen, large numbers of sea-fowl were encountered, attracted by the jelly fish and whale feed with which the water was teeming, and the cliffs of Spitzbergen seemed alive with the auks, puffins, gulls, loons, rotges, eider ducks and other arctic birds.
CURRENTS.
During the entire cruise the currents were most treacherous and difficult to determine. Setting out from Hampton Roads, just clear of the capes we struck into a large body of warm water some twenty or twenty-five miles across, and lost the southerly set expected. The Gulf Stream was found further to eastward than usual, and we experienced its full force to the southward of the Banks of Newfoundland, setting ENE. more than two knots an hour. Rounding Cape Race to make St. Johns, the southerly current there of one knot given on all the charts and mentioned in the sailing directions, was not found at all, but on the passage out we did find a southerly current, though very much less in force. Later, during the run to Reikiavik, we should have had northerly currents, according to the charts; on the contrary, all were to the southward, and it was not until making the southwest coast of Iceland that we encountered a heavy NW. set.
Crossing from Iceland to Norway, the Gulf Stream did not put in a showing by current in any case, nor did it on the trip to the northward from Hammerfest, the currents in those parts of the Atlantic being generally to the westward, with some southing. After reaching the coast of Spitzbergen, we found a northerly current when near the coast and a southerly one when near the ice to the westward.
On setting out to the southward, September 26, 27, and 28, in the vicinity of the ice, we found the most surprising current. In cold water, which in connection with our previous experience led us to believe the ship in a southerly set, we found that in an interval of four days between observations we had drifted to the northward sixty miles. Making the northern coast of Iceland, the flow of water was treacherous and very dangerous.
From Iceland to Halifax, in October, the currents were found nearly the same in force and direction as those determined on the passage up in July, excepting off Cape Race, where we were set to the southward by a heavy current, finding the ship in the vicinity of the Virgin Rocks after a heavy blow from the northward and westward, and the next afternoon we had drifted to the northward up off the entrance to St. Johns in a heavy southwest gale. On our own coast, during the run down, the currents were very carefully watched and found not to correspond generally with those given on the charts, so that I am led to believe that these currents are affected almost immediately and to a remarkable degree by the existing winds.
All the currents recorded during the cruise were determined, using the distances run by patent log, as it was found impossible to make the runs by deck and patent log correspond, although a great deal of attention was given to both, the patent log generally registering more than the other. In running known distances off Fortress Monroe and along the coasts of Iceland and Newfoundland, the patent log checked very well, and it was considered advisable to use its registered distances in preference to the other, as even if it did overrun, as is possible, the currents shown would be relative in value.
THE CHRONOMETERS.
Previous to leaving Norfolk the daily rate determined for the standard was 0.2 sec. gaining, the average temperature for the ten days having been 76° F. As a decrease in the reading of the thermometer was anticipated upon going to sea, 0.5 sec. was assumed for the rate, and on reaching St. Johns, Newfoundland, it was found to have been 0.6 sec. gaining daily for the preceding eleven days, during the run from Norfolk to St. Johns, the average temperature having been 71°.
On setting out for Reikiavik, anticipating a further decrease in temperature, 1 sec. was assumed for the daily rate. It was impossible to obtain observations during our stay in Iceland, therefore this same rate was carried on until reaching Hammerfest, the average temperature during the entire trip remaining 61°. By observations at this latter port, the rate for the twenty-nine days occupied in making the trip was found to have been 1.3 sec. gaining. In working up the observations, however, the rate of 1 sec. was found by comparison with the two accompanying chronometers to have been correct up to the time of leaving Reikiavik, and so the error obtained at Hammerfest was used with that computed at Reikiavik, and the rate for the preceding twelve days became 1.5 sec. gaining.
With this rate, 1.5 sec. gaining, the cruise in the Arctic was commenced. Running along with the other chronometers and their given rates, this seemed to be justified, and the greatest confidence was felt until about September 1, when there seemed to be a slacking up of the standard, and later of the other two chronometers in an average temperature of 59° for the thirty-five days preceding. The assumed rate was accordingly reduced, and on reaching Hammerfest it was found that the rate for the fifty-one days from that port had been but 0.7 sec. gaining, the average temperature for the whole time having been 60°. The error used was less than 30 sec. different from that afterward determined; a serious error in ordinary latitudes, but amounting to little more than one mile in actual distance there, and consequently of but little importance. On the run north again from Hammerfest and to Reikiavik, with a lower average temperature than any before, 58°, the rates continued decreasing, and that of the standard determined at Reikiavik, October 12, for the preceding twenty-eight days was 0.4 sec. losing. Twenty-four days later, at Halifax, the rate for that number of days was determined to have been 0.13 sec. losing daily, average temperature 61°, and since that the standard has been running very regularly with practically no rate.
In the determination of these rates, the short time of stay in any port and the general cloudiness of the weather prevented the following of the usual methods, and observations were made under as nearly the same conditions as possible, using the chart longitude for the chronometer error at the several ports, and each was compared with that obtained last preceding. By careful attention paid to the thermometer and to the comparative rates of the three chronometers, any marked change in the somewhat erratic rate of the standard was generally discovered, and the greatest difference noted between error used and error determined was that already mentioned of 28 sec. after a sea voyage of forty-four days, when the decrease in rate was exactly contrary to the change anticipated, I append a table showing the errors and rates of the three chronometers, together with the error used in the last observations made before entering the port. It will be seen that Chronometer B ran with a smaller and more regular rate than either of the others.
| Chronometer A | Chronometer B | Chronometer C | Average Temp. | ||||
Error fast. (sec) | Error last used in making port. | Rate. (sec) | Error fast. (m. sec.) | Rate. | Error slow. (m. sec.) | Rate. | ||
June 15, Norfolk | 3.4 |
| +0.2 | 4.38.4 | +0.05 | 9.10.6 | -0.9 | 76° |
June 26, St. Johns | 10.0 | June 23, 8.0 | +0.6 | 4.40.5 | +0.2 | 9.19 | -0.8 | 71° |
July 13, Reikiavik | 27.0 | July 9, 18.0 | +1.0 | 4.43.9 | +0.4 | 9.36 | -1.0 | 61° |
July 25, Hammerfest | 46.1 | July 24, 38.0 | +1.5 | 4.48.1 | +0.4 | 9.47.4 | -1.0 | 61° |
Sept. 14, Hammerfest | 81.3 | Sept. 10, 110.0 | +0.7 | 4.52.3 | +0.1 | 11.04.2 | -1.5 | 59°, 61° |
Oct. 12, Reikiavik | 69.8 | Oct. 9, 82.0 | -0.4 | 4.49.3 | -0.1 | 11.51.2 | -1.7 | 58.5° |
Nov. 5, Halifax | 66.5 | Oct. 30, 72.0 | -0.13 | 4.51.3 | +0.1 | 12.21.2 | -1.25 | 60.5° |
COMPASSES.
By far the most difficult thing to understand during the voyage was the compass. By special orders from the Department the ship was to be swung, steaming in circles, both to starboard and to port, using the sun’s azimuth, and in each case this was done, thus giving two deviation curves, the mean of which was taken for the deviation table. In Hampton Roads, before setting out, the deviation was found to be practically the same with both helms, greatest at points E. by S. and W. by N., about a point and a quarter. Off St. Johns, Newfoundland, a slight difference was noticed in the two curves, and an increase in the mean deviation (greatest at same points E. by S. and W. by N.) to a point and three-quarters. During the run thence to Iceland, great discrepancies were found in the deviation table and the charted variation so that all courses were determined by azimuths. On swinging ship off Reikiavik, good reason was found for the discrepancies, for, using the charted variation, the easterly deviation was found to have increased more than a point (13°). Upon determining the variation later, it was found to be 8° less than that given on the chart; and using that, the mean deviation was found to have increased, being greatest on same points to rather more than two points, the greatest difference between the two curves with the different helms being one-half point. In making the run to the coast of Norway, the deviation table determined with the charted variation was used, in order to avoid the necessity of correcting the chart; great care was taken, as the previous experience of change in both deviation and variation led to an expectation of further and greater change in both. It was noticed, however, that the tables acted very well, giving good results; and on swinging ship off Hammerfest, it was found that the deviation had not changed, the mean curves determined at Reikiavik and Hammerfest being almost identical, the difference between the curves with the two helms also remaining the same.
Swinging ship again off Hakluyt's Headland, Spitzbergen, latitude 79° 50' N., the difference between the curves with the two helms was found to be rather more than a point, and the greatest mean deviation on the same points, E. by S. and W. by N., three points and three-quarters.
During the cruise in the Arctic great difficulty was experienced in keeping the ship on any course, as in a sea-way the compasses would swing from the motion of the ship frequently as much as eight points. The standard compass, at a greater elevation than the others, was more affected by this motion, and being a liquid compass seemed to maintain the swing longer. An admiralty dry compass was mounted in the starboard binnacle, and this, compensated for dip, did not seem so much affected as the others, though still very lively. The experiment of placing a circular piece of iron under this compass, as recommended by Parry in 1827, was tried, and, whatever the reason, it obviated a great deal of the swing, enabling the quartermasters to keep tolerably near a given course, although even this compass would swing a point and sometimes two.
A marked effect of the land on the compasses was noticed while skirting along the southern coast of Iceland, and, indeed, whenever near any part of that coast. Also near Spitzbergen, a marked instance of which was noted in steaming across Ice Fiord from Safe Haven. In clear weather the ship was headed about W. by S. true, to run some two miles outside of the southern cape of the fiord, ten miles distant. The ship being properly pointed, the apparent compass course was given the quartermasters to run by, and great confidence was felt, notwithstanding that a very dense fog soon shut out all vestiges of the land. An hour later came the somewhat startling cry, "Land ahead and on both bows." A lucky lifting of the fog showed that steering the noted compass course the ship was running directly for the land, two miles inside the cape, instead of two miles outside, as she had been pointed when the course had been read and given. I have since seen a suggestion that the compass is affected by the fog; whether it was so in this case, whether it was the land, or whether it was a tidal current, it is impossible for me to say, possibly a combination of the three. Another remarkable incident in this locality is the fact that the standard and the dry compasses differed from each other by six points, running into Green Harbor on the southern side of the fiord, this difference disappearing after coming to anchor, not quickly as if either of the compasses had stuck, but gradually. The variation was found different from that given on the charts in all cases, and from these experiences it can readily be understood that the ship was kept well clear of land, except in fair weather, and that courses were always laid by azimuth or bearings. The following table shows at a glance the changes in deviation, together with the dip and variation as determined:
|
| Greatest Deviation Pts. E. by S. and W. by N. | Variations as determined. | Dip of Needle determined. |
Norfolk | Lat. 37° N. | 14° | 3° 19’ W. | … |
St. Johns | Lat. 48° N. | 18° | 30° 28’ W. | 74° |
Reikiavik | Lat. 64° N. | 23° | 36° 57’ W. | 75° |
Hammerfest | Lat. 71° N. | 23° | 4° 15’ W. | 76° |
Haklyut’s Head | Lat. 80° N. | 41° | 18° 20’ W. | 81° |
OBSERVATIONS.
In such high latitudes, and under such unusual weather conditions, observations required the utmost care and almost constant attention. The frequency of fog, the generally overcast sky, the slow motion in altitude of the sun, the varying condition of the atmosphere and consequent changes in dip and refraction, were unusual difficulties with which to contend. The proportions of clear sky for the entire month of August was but two-tenths, and for September less than one-tenth, while the weather was foggy one-quarter of that interval of two months. The motion of the sun in altitude on the 6th August, latitude 80° N., was when observations for time were possible, but 3' in 1 min. of time, and in September, but 1' in 1 min. of time, and altitudes for latitude could be taken at any time within a half-hour of meridian, as the change in altitude then was very slight. A compensation for the possible errors in time observations was the fact that in 80° latitude, a degree of longitude, or an error of 4 minutes in time, was but 10.4 miles. During nearly the entire month of August the sun did not go below the horizon, yet there were opportunities for but two observations for lower meridian altitude, one of which I obtained on the night of August 3, the altitude being 4° 34' in latitude 77° N. Changes in the apparent horizon from varying dip and refraction were remarkable. Upon one occasion while taking a meridian altitude the apparent horizon changed the entire diameter of the sun, so that what had been an altitude of the lower limb, became an altitude of the upper, due in this case to a squall passing between the ship and the horizon, although the horizon was seen perfectly distinct through it. Another noted incident, where three observers were measuring altitudes near meridian, each observer's altitude differed by 7' for some considerable length of time before noon, all agreeing later, however, upon the meridian altitude. Under such circumstances a great many observations were necessary, and those were thrown out which attendant conditions rendered doubtful.
Dip and refraction were always corrected for temperature and barometer, and good results were obtained so far as known. The sun appeared very much like a ball of cotton in the higher latitudes, and although it was daylight all the time, it was never bright and cheery like the day in our own latitudes, but a dull, dark, unsatisfactory and gloomy light, which was rather depressing at all times. Observations for dip with a Barrow dip circle were made when practicable.
The barometer in its action was anomalous. We experienced gales of wind with a high barometer, and gales of wind with a low barometer. The barometer fell to 28.90 with no noted change in the weather, and we had a strong gale of wind from off Bear Island, with barometer at 30.20. These and numerous other singular actions led us to have but little faith in its indications. The average height of the barometer in the Arctic north of 70° latitude during August and September was 30.01, highest 30.44, lowest 29.45.
Temperatures were unexpectedly high for such latitudes, the lowest reading of the air thermometer being 20° above zero and that in latitude 78° N., in September. The average temperature for August and September was 39°, and the highest temperature, 51°, was noted one day, August 4, at Green Harbor, latitude 78° N., and one other day, September 13, at Hammerfest, Norway, latitude 71" N. The lowest noted surface-water temperature was 30°, when close to the ice, but the average temperature was above 32°, excepting for one day when the ship was in the ice pocket, September 25, the mean temperature for that 24 hours having been 31.5°.
Water temperatures at 5 and 10 fathoms, and specific gravities of the sea-water at surface and 10 fathoms below, were constantly taken and recorded, though the differences were generally very slight. Specimens from the shore and the sea were collected, and the usual ship's meteorological observations were made with the greatest care.
Whatever may have been thought of the advisability of sending the Alliance into these waters in search of the Jeannette, subsequent events seem to have shown the wisdom of the proceeding, if for no other reason than that of the general knowledge of the polar basin, to be obtained by simultaneous observations of the ice at the two great entrances of the Arctic Ocean, by the Rodgers and Corwin on the one side, and by the Alliance on the other. In the Atlantic, during the months of August and September, in the vicinity of the Both parallel, we found the ice lower than it has been known before for forty years; the average temperature of the air was about 40°, and that of the water was never below 32°; snow and ice were melting on the land near by, forming huge streams down the mountain's sides, and pools of water could be seen on the floating ice, so that it is safe to assume that miles of this ice were daily disappearing, though constantly being replaced by other ice from the northward, giving evidence of a strong southerly current in this locality from the Arctic to the Atlantic, and corroborating the evidence of Parry to the same effect in 1827. With such a tremendous current here, a corresponding northerly set must be found somewhere, and when news was heard from the Corwin and Rodgers, of a strong northwest current to the northward of Wrangell Land, it was surmised that it formed a part of this great current sweeping through the Arctic Ocean in the same general direction as that taken by all great ocean currents, that is to say, with the hands of a watch. Further, on hearing that Wrangell Land had been circumnavigated, and that the ice was higher on that side than ever known before, it was supposed that, whether exceptional or not, the current had been strong enough to move the entire icepack, so that the conclusion arrived at in regard to the Jeannette was that, probably fast in the ice, she had been drifted to the northward and westward, and her long silence was considered a good augury of great success in reaching a very high latitude, if not the pole itself. Moreover, Franz Josef Land is the nearest land to the pole so far as known, and with a favorable current setting northward, so that strong hopes were entertained that some tidings might be heard on the return of Mr. Leigh Smith from his summer cruise in that region.
Later news of the loss of the Jeannette in latitude 77° N. and 165° E. affords some support to the theory of this northwest current, and the length of time taken by her ship's company to reach land affords still more. Comparing their journey with that of Parry in 1827, it seems evident that they must have had a heavy current to contend with. Parry set out in June to sledge north from Spitzbergen, taking two boats and sledges with twenty-eight men, and with great difficulty made 292 miles by water and over the ice in thirty-one days, but the actual distance made good was only 172 miles, owing to the strong southerly current, which he found to increase greatly in force as he pushed further to the northward. In his report he says that the greatest difficulty was found in getting over the broken ice at the edge of the pack, and that the ice became more and more practicable as he increased the distance from the edge, so that he was able to make from twelve to fifteen miles a day. Unfortunately, this distance was all taken up by the drift of the pack to the southward, so that his highest latitude was 82° 45' N. The return was made in twenty-five days, a much longer time than was expected, owing to the fact that in the latter part of July and in August the ice became very soft and almost impracticable, so that the return seems to have been made almost wholly by the drift of the pack. Considering that the Jeannette party were working for their lives at the same season of the year, they must certainly have made as great a distance daily as did Parry, and the great length of time consumed in making 300 miles, the shortest distance from the scene of the wreck to the mainland, seems to show conclusively the fact that they experienced a very heavy set to the northward. The distance of the Jeannette, when lost, from Franz Josef Land was 900 miles, and I venture to say that the party would have made this distance, assisted by the current, in the same length of time, if not less. It is quite possible that this route of return may have been considered by De Long, but given up on account of the uncertainty of finding any assistance in that desolate land. All this is a matter of conjecture, which will be settled on hearing the story of our brave and gallant fellow-officers.
The impracticability of reaching the pole with a vessel seems to have been proven beyond a doubt. From our experience in the smooth water under the lee of the ice, during the gale of wind on the 25th September, the theory of an open polar sea seems untenable. Had the temperature been low enough the water would certainly have frozen, so far as its motion was concerned, for it was perfectly smooth a distance of at least half a mile from the pack, and this half mile freezing and carrying on the smooth water, a short time would have sufficed to cover the entire sea. It appears that from uneven temperature, contraction and expansion take place, and that large openings do occur in the polar ice, which certain meteorological conditions may continue for considerable time during the summer; but these conditions are not permanent, and in the intense cold of the winter the still water must freeze, remain solid, become covered with snow, and the surface must be like that of a glacier, all the irregularities smoothed out, and a comparatively level, unbroken plain the result. Therefore I believe that if the pole is ever reached, it will be by sledging from the westward, striking directly across to Franz Josef Land, with no idea of retracing the route, and after a severe struggle with the broken ice at the edge of the pack, I believe the remainder of the route will be found a tolerably easy journey.