Log of the S. S. Hope
The Log of the S. S. Hope is a manuscript diary written by Arthur Conan Doyle recounting his travel in the Arctic as a surgeon on the ship "Hope" between 28 february and 11 august 1880.
Log of the S.S. "Hope" Vol. I
Saturday February 28
Sailed at 2 o'clock amid a great crowd and greater cheering. The Windward Captain Murray went out in front of us, their Captain bellowing "port" and "starboard" like a Bull of Bashan. We set about it in a quieter and more business-like way. We are as clean as a gentleman's yacht, all shining brass and snow white decks. Saw a young lady that I was introduced to but whose name I did not catch waving a handkerchief from the end of the pier. Took off my hat from the Hope's quarterdeck though I don't know her from Eve. Rather rough outside and the glass falling rapidly. Beat about the bay for several hours and had dinner with champagne in honour of Baxter and grandees on board. Pilot boat came and fetched them all off at last, together with an unfortunate stowaway who tried to conceal himself in the tween decks. Sailed for Shetland in a rough wind, glass going down like oysters. As long as I stick on deck I'll do.
Sunday March 1st
Got into Lerwick at 7.30 PM. Deuced lucky for us as a gale is rising and if we hadn't made the land we might have lost boats and bulwarks. We were uneasy about it, but we sighted the Bressay light about 5.30. Captain's very pleased we got in before the Windward, though they had 5 hours start.
Monday March 1st
Blowing a hurricane. Windward got in at 2 AM only just in time. The whole harbour is one sheet of foam. Feel very comfortable aboard. Have a snug little cabin. Telegraph gone wrong between this and Peterhead. Pokey hole.
Tuesday March 2nd
Glass down at 28.375. Captain has never seen it so low. Blowing like Billy outside. Made out the hosiery list. Tait on religion and atheism. He is our Shetland agent, not half such a fool as he looks.
Wednesday March 3rd
Fine day. Glass still very low. Went on shore with the Captain after breakfast. Enlisted our Shetland hands. Fearful rush and row in Tait's small office. Jan Mayen & Victor came in. Murray of the Windward seems a decent fellow. Captain and I were going from Tait's shop when a drunken Shetlander got hold of him. "Capn, I'm (hic!) goin' with you. Oh such a voyage, Captain, such a voyage as never was landed! (hic!) Three hundred and fifty tons, sir, I've brought the luck with me." Gray turned back in the back room, and seemed annoyed. I said "I'll turn him out if you like, Captain." He said "Ah, I know fine you'd like a smack at him, Doctor. I would mysel but it wouldna do." We had locked the door of the back room when there was an apparition of a hand and arm through the smoked glass window which formed the upper half of the door. Bang! Crash! Wood and glass came rattling into the room, and we saw our indomitable Shetlander, with his hands cut and bleeding, looking through the hole. "Wood and iron won't keep me from you, Captain Gray. Go I will." The Captain coolly smoked his pipe the whole time and never moved from the stove. The man was carried off, kicking & thumping to the gaol, I suppose, though the infirmary would have been a far better place. If ever I saw D T that was it. Had Murray of Windward and Tait to dinner, talk of masonry, whaling &c. Dispute with Murray about efficacy of drugs. Plenty of good wine going. Finished the evening with the Captain very pleasantly. By the way another stowaway turned up today, a wretched looking animal. The Captain was frightening him at first by telling him he'd have to go back, but he finally signed the Articles.
Thursday March 4th
Gave out tobacco in the morning. Slept forenoon. Went ashore in the evening. Went first with second mate and Stewart to the Queen's and had something short as he calls it. Then went to Mrs Brown's and lost sight of them. Had a very hospitable reception there. Told me to make their home my home. Went down to the Commercial where an F&E was going on. Heard some good songs and sang Jack's Yarn. Chat with Captain about Prince Jerome, &c.
Friday March 5th
Captain and I were invited to Tait's for dinner. Both thought it a horrid bore. Went to the Queen's and played billiards. Then toddled down to Tait's. Met Murray of the Windward and Galloway, the latter a small lawyer, insufferably conceited — hate the fellow. Had a heavy weary dinner with very inferior champagne. Old Tait expressed great surprise at my saying I was RD's nephew — the old cow, I found out afterwards that the Captain had just been telling him about it. He has a dog who has been taught to love the name of Napoleon, if you talk of shooting Napoleon he will make a dart at you, and probably leave with some things of yours in his mouth, muscles and clothes and things. Murray talked about putting three men under the ice, seeing ten men shot in a mob row, and several curious things. We got the boat at nine o'clock and were both delighted to get on board again, and stretch our legs quietly. Wind rising. Saw what the Captain says is a Roman camp, but I think it is a round Pictish tower.
Saturday March 6th
Raining and blowing hard. Did nothing all day. Colin McLean and men went ashore in the evening and hailed for boat, which we had to give though it was rather rough. Began Boswell's life of Johnson.
Sunday March 7th
Nothing doing except that the mail steamer St Magnus came in with a letter from home and one from Letty, also a week's Scotsmen. Satisfactory news. We shifted our berth the other day in the harbour and now lie apart from the other ships with the Windward. Colin the mate was at the Queen's last night among a lot of Dundeesmen who spoke of those two D-d Peterheadsmen who went and moped by themselves. Colin got up and after proclaiming himself a "Hope" man ran amuck through the assembly knocking down a Dundee doctor. He remarked to me this morning when I was giving him a pick me up "It's lucky I was sober, Doctor, or I might have got into a regular row." I wonder what Colin's idea of a regular row is. Lerwick is a dirty little town with very hospitable simple inhabitants. Main Street was designed by a man with a squint, builded on the lines of a corkscrew. Noticed today that some of the ships in harbour flew Freemason flags, Murray has the Royal arch up, Compasses on a blue ground.
Fishermen sell cod here at 5/ a hundredweight, and have caught as much as 25 Cwt in a night. By the way the Engineer of the Windward got his two forefingers crushed in machinery yesterday and I had to go over before breakfast and dress them. Twenty sail of whalers in the bay.
Monday March 8th
Nothing like a quill pen for writing a journal with, but this is such a confound-edly bad one. Went ashore today and after knocking about some time went up to see a football match between Orkney and Shetland — play rather poor. Met Captains of Jan Mayen (Denchars), Nova Zembla, and Erik, also a London man, Brown, doctor of the Erik. Six of us went down to the Queens after the match and started on bad whiskey and went on to coffee. Then Brown ordered a bottle of champagne, and Murray and I followed suit. Cigars and pipes. I think we all had quite enough liquor. Brown was wrecked in the Ravenscraig last year. Says he is a very superior sort of shot. Captain' and I got home about half past nine.
Tuesday March 9th
Went ashore with Captain before dinner. Jack Webster was drunk and playing old Harry in the streets. Captain got hold of him and sent him on board the Hope in the pilot boat, but when he got half way he sprang over and swam ashore again. Cane and a boat's crew captured him afterwards. Had a very dull morning going from shop to shop. We will sail tomorrow if it is any way fair. Tait came on board afterwards and we had a pleasant talk. He is a sensible fellow tho' rather a bore. Looked over Scoresby. Captain told me some curious things about whaling. The great distance at which they can hear a steamer and how it frightens them. Oil is about £5o a ton and bone L800 or so. All bone goes to the continent. Sea Unicorns are very common, so are sharks, and dolphins, but the curiosity of the place are the animaliculae which the whale eats.
Wednesday March 10th
A North wind prevented our getting off. The old Eclipse steamed in grandly about four o'clock being cheered by each ship as she passed. Went on board and saw Captain David, Alec and Crabbe. Went ashore in the evening and played Captain, also had the honour of beating Crabbe at billiards. He has a great local reputation. Left my meerschaum and gloves in the smoking room.
Thursday March 11th
A big day for Leith. The ships began to steer out from Lerwick Sound after breakfast. It was a pretty thing on the beautifully clear and calm day to hear the men singing across the bay to the clank clank of the anchors. Every ship as it passed out got 3 cheers from all the others. Captain and I went ashore, and the boat's crew and I went in search of that beggar Jack Webster. We found him at last and five of us carried him, cursing horribly, down the main street of Lerwick to the boat, where I had to hold him to keep him from jumping overboard. We left about one o'clock and steamed through the islands till about seven when we came to an anchorage with the Jan Mayen, Erik, and Active in a little voe. We raced the Jan Mayen up from Lerwick and beat her all the way, anchored within a stone throw of the Erik. Talking to McLeod and Captain about getting to the Pole in the evening. There is no doubt about it that everyone has been on a wrong tack. The broad ocean is the way to find a way up to the Pole, not by going up a drain which gradually grows narrower, and down which the ice naturally runs, as it does in Davis' Straits.
Friday March 12th
We'll have to stay here all day, I fear, for it is blowing half a gale tho' the glass is high. Nothing to do all day. The land is a succession of long low hills with peat cuttings and funny little thatched cottages here and there. Captain went over to the Erik in the evening. They seemed to be catching fish but we had no proper bait, so mate and I went ashore with a boat's crew to get some clams. It was nearly dark so we couldn't gather them, but we went the round of the little cottages begging. Such dismal hovels, the esquimeaux have better houses. Each has a little square hole in the ceiling to let out the smoke of a large peat fire in the middle of the room. They were all civil enough. Met one rather pretty but shy girl even in this barbarous spot. Got some razor fish as bait and departed triumphant. Up to our thighs in mud coming and going. Revenue cutter boarded us this evening and Lieutenant was only pacified by the present of a stick of baccy. I'm afraid Colin will eat all our bait. Captain rather annoyed about being kept in this hole. Glass high.
Saturday March 13th
Wind high and raining hard. Active and Jan Mayen are off already. We follow them soon. They are pulling up the anchor now and singing "Goodbye, Fare-thee-well, Goodbye Fare-thee-well." A pretty song it is too. Sea was not very rough outside. Went through the islands, keeping full at the right at the extreme north of Shetland we passed some curious rocks in the sea called Ramna Stacks.
Raining hard all day. We raced with the Erik and had rather the best of it. Not a bit seasick. Saw Burrafiord Holms the extreme north point of Great Britain, and then lost sight of land about four P.M. Ran with an oblique wind and three quarter steam all night. Dreamed of being beaten by a gorilla, and of pulling in the Oxford boat. 167 miles.
Sunday March 14th
Erik rather ahead of us and only occasionally in sight. Heavy Atlantic swell doing the Grand Northward Ho! all day under steam and sail.
Northward Ho! ran about 150 miles. About getting to the Pole, the Gulf Stream runs up past Spitzbergen so of course that is the way to go. It is one of the most extraordinary delusions in history how ship after ship has run up into a cul-de-sac, for Davis' Straits is nothing better. Read Boswell. Don't agree with Macauley at all about Boswell being a man of no intellect. If ever a man was afflicted with what he calls "morbus Boswellianus" it is Lord Macauley himself in the case of Willy the Silent.
Monday March 15th
First under steam and sail, and then under sail alone. Must have got about half way today. Kept in the cabin until evening. Read Boswell. Like that old boy Johnson for all his pomposity. A thorough old felow, I fancy. He was in Plymouth, it seems, for a couple of days, and there was considerable ill-feeling between the townsmen and the men about the docks. Johnson who had nothing in the world to do with it was often heard to exclaim "I hate a docker." I like that sort of thing. Sky looked like ice this evening. Surface temperature fallen from 44 to 38 in one day.
Tuesday March 16th
Still under canvas, wind continues fair. I've brought the luck with me. Two bottlenose whales were playing round the ship in the morning but I did not see them. It seems we are crossing a very favourite feeding ground of theirs. Expect to come on the ice tomorrow. We made 159 miles yesterday. Are hundreds of miles north of Iceland, about sixty southeast of Jan Mayen. Old hands on board say they never knew such a good passage, however we mustn't crow until we are out of the wood. Water temperature has fallen 2° since 12 o'cl which looks like ice. White line on the sky. Everyone seems to think we will see ice before tomorrow. We can tell that we are under the lea of ice by the calm. Captain told me about some curious dreams of his, notably about the Germans and the black heifers.
Wednesday March 17th
Dies cretâ notanda. About five o'clock I heard the second mate tell the Captain that we were among the ice. He got up but I was too lazy. Passed a Norwegian about 8 o'clock. When we rose at nine the keen fresh air told me it was freezing. I went on deck and there was the ice. It was not in a continuous sheet but the whole ocean was covered with little hillocks of it, rising and falling with the waves, pure white above and of a wonderful green below. None were more than 4 or 6 feet out of the water but they were of every shape. No seals. Put up the crow's nest in the morning.
All day we were steaming or rather sailing through lumps of ice which studded the water, sometimes so thickly that you could jump from one to another for hundreds of yards, and sometimes only a bit or two visible. The large ice field seems to be on our left. See a ship about 5 miles behind us, supposed to be the Jan Mayen, while far away in front a sail is dimly visible. From the masthead Cane says he can see 9 vessels.
Thursday 18th March
Stewart dreamed that he was among a great herd of swine last night, so we are sure to see seals today. If a man dreams of anything agricultural it always means that seals are somewhere near. A curious fact. Ice lying in lumps much the same as yesterday. Stewart's dream seems true for we saw our first seal, a bladdernose, about 11 AM. It was speckled black and white and lay on the ice as the ship steamed past, only about a dozen yards from it, looking at it quietly. Poor brute, if they are all as tame it seems a shame to kill them.
Captain saw a large speckled owl a couple of hundred yards from the ship, saw a few roaches and guillemots but we are too far from land to have many. We are considerably to the North of Jan Mayen now. Passed another bladdernose and a saddleback seal later. Some were seen in the water afterwards. A most lovely morning but hazy towards evening. Spoke to the Erik and mutually congratulated each other on our passage. By the way Walker said to me at Lerwick "If I had known who you were, sir, last year, things might have been different." I'm a lot better as I am, though I didn't make that remark to him.
Friday March 19th
A thick haze with the lumps of ice looming out of it. Could see about a hundred yards in each direction. Passed two large bladdernoses, male & female on a bit of ice.
Norwegian sail to North
We tried the whistling and certainly the male did stop and listen to it, the female wasn't so susceptible but shunted at once. The male was about 10 feet long, I should think, the female 7 or 8. I wish the haze would clear up. Drizzling a little. Haze continued all day so we lay to at night. Cane and Stewart were sparring in the evening. Talk on literature with the Captain, he thinks Dickens very small beer beside Thackery. Buckland seems to be a lovely sort of cove.
Saturday March 10th
Only a week from Shetland and here we are far into the icefields. It has certainly been a splendid voyage. Beautiful day, wonderfully clear. Icefields, snow white on very dark blue water as far as the eye can reach. We are ploughing through in grand style. Five sail in sight, one the Erik. Stewart insists on my accepting a pretty Esquimeaux tobacco pouch; I suppose he means it as a quid pro quo for the pipe I gave him. No seals seen as yet. Got near heavy ice in the evening and lay to. Several bladdernoses playing about the ship. About a couple of hundred seals visible from the crow's nest, so we seem to be coming near the pack. Eleven sail in sight. Adam Carner saw the steps of a bear in the ice.
Sunday March 21st
Lay to all day owing to the thick haze. Bladdernoses by the dozen are all around us. A few saddlebacks. The Captain thinks the pack is about 20 miles or so in front of us. Johnny had a meeting in the evening, the singing sounded well from the deck. Split a bottle of port after dinner. Captain tells me he tried fixing a cone full of prussic acid onto the end of the harpoon. He fired it into a finner from his small steamer. The brute went away at such a rate that it very nearly set the bows on fire by the friction. The line broke and it got away, but seems to have died, for no dogfish were seen on the coast for some days. Many finners are zoo feet long. By the way Carner taught me some esquimeaux. Amalang (yes), piou (very good), piou smali (bad), kisi-micky (ice-dog — ie bear).
Monday March 22nd
Very foggy again, but we have drifted among a few saddlebacks with their little fat yellow offspring. Got the quarter boats out, and the rifles. A long time to wait yet, though, till April 3d, Saturday week. Fog lasted all day so that we lay to. Boxed in evening. Finished Boswell Vol I. Dreamed of G. P.
Tuesday March 23d
Clear morning, a good few seals in sight.
Eclipse came in at last, and Captain boarded it before dinner. Steamed a few miles in the right direction. Blowing a gale all day. 11 degrees below freezing point. Very cold wind. Rigging covered with ice. Climbed up to the crow's nest before tea, but the Captain called me down just as I got up to it, as he thought I might get frostbitten. Got a fine pouch from Cane. Carner tells me at New Orleans before the war a dock labourer could make £1 a day. Now they make a dollar only. Captain saw blockade runners leaving Liverpool during the war, long spider like steamers of great speed, and painted the colour of the ocean. Cargo mostly quinine, needed hardly any crew. Glass rising again.
Wednesday March 24th
Another big day for Leith. We have seen the pack, and an enormous pack it is too. I have not seen it from the nest yet but it extends from one side of the horizon to the other, and so deep that we can see no end to it. The nearer we steam towards it, the bigger it grows. Colin says he never saw such a one in his life. It is certainly the largest collection of big animals in the world at present, at least I know no other beast that goes in herds of millions, covering a space about 15 miles long and 8 deep. We ought to have a good voyage now, my old luck. All the ships are lying round now and taking up their positions. Windward steamed past us today flying her Jack, and dipped it as a salute. io days yet to wait. Oysters.
Thursday March 25th
Hurrah for a quill pen! 19° below freezing point this evening. Have been taking up our position, and mounting boats and cleaning guns all day. Edge of pack can be seen from the bridge now. Good many isolated ones about the ship. I can hear the young ones squeaking as I write. It is a noise between the mew of a cat and the bleat of a lamb. They look a sort of cross between a lamb & a gigantic slug. Our only fear now is that some of these great blundering Norwegians or Dundeesmen go and put their foot into it. If we get less than 5o tons I'll be disappointed, if we get less than zoo I'll be surprised. Captain is going to teach me to take the latitude and longitude. Saw a clever couplet today
- "Till Silence, like a poultice comes,
- To heal the blows of Sound."
Holmes' I think. Sported my sea boots today.
Friday March 26th
Frost still continues, 17° today, 20° during the night. This is just what we want to fill up gaps in the icefield and make it safe walking. Steamed very little. The mate says the seals are lying in an almost solid mass. He says there are more than in '55, and in that year 50 vessels were among them, and all got filled. We are 23 vessels now all told so the prospect is cheery. Bar earthquakes we'll make a voyage of it. It is very trying work waiting, though this close time is an excellent provision. The poor brutes used to be killed before they had pupped. Eclipse got a bear today, and we saw the steps of one on the snow beside our ship. They are cowardly brutes unless in a corner. Captain killed one once with a boat hook. Engineer told me how one chased a crew for miles across the snow once, and how they had to throw down article after article to engage his attention, so that they got to the ship nearly naked and in a blue funk. There is no specimen of a right whale in any British museum, except a foetus. Saw the young seals suckling today. Hurt my hand boxing with the Stewart. Stuffed old Keith's tooth, and cured young Keith's collywobbles. It seems to be the family's day out.
Saturday March 27th
This day week is our day. Got my knife and my sharpener today, and asked Carner to see about my club.
Beautiful day, still lying on the skirts of the pack, all seem satisfied except the Captain and he grumbles a bit, but I think he is only joking. Saw another bear's footsteps.
The Eclipse has killed two and we have never seen one. They tell me bears go in flocks of 20 or 30 very often. Rifles given out tonight. Steamed a little. Haggie Milne better tonight. No news. Wrote my "Modern Parable."
Sunday March 28th
Haggie bad again so I gave him some Chlorodyne. Captain went on board the Eclipse and in a little the boat came off for me for dinner. Had a very pleasant feed with good wine afterwards. The conversation turned upon the war, politics, the North Pole, Darwinism, Frankenstein, free trade, whaling and local matters. Captain David seems to take a sinister view of our case. Says we'll be lucky if we get 20 tons; he may say it, but I don't think he thinks it. Saw his bear's skins. By the way he told us some strange stories which I will try to write as he told them.
"When I was a young fellow," he said "I happened to be in London with a gold watch and a good deal of money. I was at the Lyceum one night and wanted to get back to my lodgings in Holborn but wandered about a long time unable to find my way. At last I saw a respectable looking man and asked him the way to Holborn, adding that I was a stranger. He said he was going that way himself, and that he was Captain Burton of the 17th Lancers. We walked on together and Captain Burton by turning the conversation on the danger of carrying money about in London, learned about my watch and gold, and warned me against it. We shortly afterwards turned into an open door and the Captain said 'What shall we have here, I'll have some Cognac.' I said 'Coffee is strong enough for me.' The waiter who brought in the things was the most repulsive looking ruffian I ever clapt eyes on, and I saw him stick his tongue in his cheek and leer at the Captain. It was then that I first suspected that I had got into a trap.
"I threw half a sovereign on the counter and rose to go out, but the waiter put his back against the door and said 'We don't allow our visitors to leave us like this.' The Captain said 'Come on, sir, and we'll make a night of it; hullo give us some sherry out of bin No 3.' The waiter called 'Janet' and a girl appeared rather pretty and very pale. He said 'Bin No 3.' The girl said 'Surely, surely you don't need that bin tonight.' He said 'do what you are told.' As she brought in the wine she whispered to me 'Pretend to sleep.' I drank a little of the wine, but spilled most of it. Then I sank down & closed my eyes. Soon the two villains came over and whispered together, and one passed the candle over my eyes and said 'He is off.' They whispered a little again, and one said 'Dead men tell no tales.' The other said 'Then we had better get the bed ready' and they both left the room. I flung open the window and was off down the street like a shot, and ran about half a mile before I saw a bobby, and then I found it impossible, with my imperfect knowledge of London to find the house again. I heard no more of it. Get out another bottle of Port, Doctor." The conclusion of the story was considered to be a very able effort. He told us another story about how he acted as a spy in the Boer service, and murdered 3 Kaffirs in their sleep, and shot a German through the body.
He saw a walrus eating a Narwhal once. He is a fine fellow, and Dr Walker seems a very decent chap too. He thinks more whales are found at night than in the day, so when he gets North into the Twilight land, he has his breakfast at 10 P.M., dinner at 2 in the morning, and supper at 7 A.M. Then he sleeps all day. He says whales leave a very characteristic odour behind them, and you often smell them before you see them.
March 29th Monday
Our time is coming now. Thick day with a driving snow. Nothing particular going on. Had a pleasant evening in the mates' berth. Songs all round. Sang "Jack's Yarn," "The Mermaid" and "Steam Arm." Good fun. By the way Colin the mate paid me a high compliment today. He said "I'm going to have every man working hard when we start sealing. I've no fears of you, Surgeon. I'll back you to do a day's work with any man aboard. You suit me, and I liked the style of you the first time I saw ye. I hate your clean-handed gentlemen." This was a high compliment from taciturn Colin.
March 30th Tuesday
Nothing much doing. Windward came alongside and Murray came on board. He seemed to have small prospects, 10 tons was more than he expected, he said. Told us about Sir John Ross firing his gun through the window of a house because his mate was inside & he wanted him. Murray was one of the Franklin searchers. Ross said "Every step onwards, boys, is honour and glory to us. Death before dishonour," when they were starting sledging. Sparred with Colin & Stewart.
Wednesday March 31st
Very little doing all day. A heavy swell has set in and we are uneasy about the result. If it continues until Saturday it will make our work both difficult and dangerous. The ice is not a solid sheet, but made up of thousands of pieces of all sizes floating close to each other. Now in a swell those pieces alternately separate and come together with irresistible force. If a poor fellow slips in between two pieces as is easily done, he runs a good chance of being cut in two, as actually happened to several Dundeesmen. Men played leapfrog on a big piece. I started a story "A Journey to the Pole," which I intend to be good. We are going to write to Gladstone and Disraeli when the Dundeesmen go home.
Thursday April 1st
Swell continues and things look badly. We steamed a bit during the day. This is the first time for 3 years that I have not been examined today. Sent the Chief Engineer to the Captain with a cock and bull story about curtain rings. Johnny's dignity was very much hurt. By the way I was at the masthead yesterday, and also on the ice some time. Saluted the Harald Haarfager tonight 7.30. Swell still on.
Friday April 2nd
Swell still on and the pack growing more scattered. I'm afraid our prospects will not be realized. However every man must do his best, and then we can do no more. Stayed up until 12 o'clock to see the close time out.
Saturday April 3rd
Up at 2.30 AM. Swell still on, so as to make good work impossible. Lowered away our boats in the sludge about 4.30. I stayed aboard at the captain's command much against my will and helped as well as I could by pulling the skins up the side. The old seals who can swim are shot with rifles, while the poor youngsters who can't get away have their skulls smashed in by clubs.
It is bloody work dashing out the poor little beggars brains while they lookup with their big dark eyes into your face. We picked the boats up soon and started packing, that's to say all hands getting over the ship's side and jumping along from floating piece to piece, killing all they can see, while the ship steams after and picks up the skins. It takes a lot of knack to know what ice will bear you, and what not. I was ambitious to start but in getting over the ship's side I fell in between two pieces of ice and was hauled out by a boathook. I changed my clothes and started again, & succeeded in killing a couple of seals and dragging their remains after I had skinned them to the ship's side. We got 760 seals today. Poor work, I believe but we hope for the best. After all whales are the things that pay.
Sunday April 4th
Working all day. I fell into the Arctic Ocean three times today, but luckily someone was always near to pull me out. The danger in falling in is that with a heavy swell on as there is now, you may be cut in two pretty well by two pieces of ice coming together and nipping you. I got several drags, but was laid up in the evening as all my clothes were in the engine room drying. By the way as an instance of abstraction of mind, after skinning a seal today I walked away with the two hind flippers in my hand, leaving my mittens on the ice. Some of our hands work very well, while others, mostly Shetlanders with many honourable exceptions, shirk their work detestably. It shows what a man is made of, this work, as we are often killing far from the ship away from the Captain's eye with a couple of miles drag, and a man can skulk if he will. Colin the mate is a great power in the land, energetic &hard working. I heard him tell a man today he would club him if he didn't work harder. I saw the beggars often walk past a fine fat seal to kill a poor little "Toby" or newly pupped one in order to have less weight to drag. The Captain sits at the masthead all day, looking out with his glass, for where they lie thickest. Took about 460 today.
Monday April 6th [5th]
Went out with Colin this morning for some regular hard work but began proceedings by falling into the sea again. I had just killed a seal on a large piece when I fell over the side. Nobody was near and the water was deadly cold. I had hold of the edge of the ice to prevent my sinking, but it was too smooth and slippery to climb up by, but at last I got hold of the seal's hind flippers and managed to pull myself up by them. The poor old "flappy" certainly heaped coals of fire upon my head. Got off again with the Stewart and did some good work. Took about 400 again.
Tuesday April 6th
Out on the pack in the morning with Colin and actually did not fall in. The Captain calls me "the Great Northern Diver." We took a good number of young and old and then steamed outside to see if we could find anything for ourselves. Shot two large bladdernoses, both were easy shots at about 70 yards, but as I fired after all the harpooners had missed I felt cocky. They were huge brutes, I am keeping the bone of one which was 11 feet long. They are also called Sea Elephants. They have a vascular bag on their snouts which they distend to any extent when they are angry. Saw the Jan Mayen and others, with all their boats outkilling old seals. Took 270 young & 58 old.
Wednesday April 7th
Poor work today, seals are scarce and we only took 133. Haggie Milne is very bad & I fear he will die. He has intussusception with foecal vomiting & constant pain. It is not hernia. Gave soap & castor oil injection today.
Thursday April 8th
Put our letters onboard the Active today. Had short notice and only wrote one letter though I would willingly have written more. Did a wretched days work, only about 30 seals. However most of the other ships have done worse than us, & that with crews of 80 men to our 56. Gale in the evening.
Friday April 9th
Gale continuing so that we have done no work at all. Heavy swell on. Got under the lee of the point. Wretched day. Did nothing but sleep & write up my log. They are commencing to cut the blubber off the hides. I'm afraid tomorrow will be as bad.
April 10th Saturday
Poor Andrew Milne is almost beyond hope. At such an age and with such an illness recovery was almost hopeless. Blowing fitfully and with a heavy swell on. Nothing doing all day. Began Carlyle's "Hero Worship." A great and glorious book.
April 11th Sunday
A dark day in the ship's cruise. Poor Andrew was very cheery and very much better in the morning, but he took some plum duff at dinner, and was taken worse. I went down at once, and he died within ten minutes in my arms literally. Poor old man. They were very kind to him forwards during his illness, and certainly I did my best for him. Made a list of his effects in the evening. Rather a picturesque scene with the corpse and the lanterns and the wild faces around. We bury him tomorrow. Picked up seals all day on large pieces in the slush, about 60 I think.
April 12th Monday
Buried poor old Andrew this morning. Union Jack was hoisted half mast high. He was tied up in canvas sack with a bag of old iron tied to his feet, and the Church of England burial service was read over him. Then the stretcher on which he was lying was tilted over and the old man went down feet foremost with hardly a splash. There was a bubble or two and a gurgle and that was the end of old Andrew. He knows the great secret now. I should think he would be flattened out of all semblance to humanity before he reached the bottom, or rather he would never reach the bottom, but hang suspended half way down like Mahomet's coffin, when the weight of the iron was neutralized. The Captain & I agree that on these occasions three cheers should be given as the coffin disappears, not in levity, but as a genial hearty fare-thee-well wherever you are. Did a fair day's work, about 60 I should think. Made a bad miss in the evening. Polynia has 2050 seals, worse than us.
Tuesday April 13th
Boiled Beef day again (Tuesday – Tough-day – Tough-day – Boiled Beef day). The worst dinner in the week except Friday. Lay to on account of the gale all day. Had the gloves down in the stokehole in the evening and some fine boxing. No seals.
April 11th 1880
Wednesday April 14th
Knocking along among the ice under sail and canvas picking up seals. Made a good day's work, about80 I should think, bringing us up to 2450 about. Stood on the fo'c'sle head all day and reported progress. Rather cold work, had a shot or two tho'. Someone told me that in the South Seas when a man died the firstcomer got his property, and that when a man fell overboard you might see half a dozen standing by the hatchways to run down for the plunder whenever he was drowned.
Thursday April 15th
Beautifully fine day but we did a poor day's work, about46 I think. Assisted in shooting 2 bladders. They took five balls each. A pretty little bird with a red tuft on its head, rather larger than a sparrow came and fluttered about the boats. No one had ever seen one like it before. Rather a longbeak, feet not webbed, white underneath, with a "pea-wheet – pea-wheet." A sort of Snowflake. Georgey Grant got his trousers torn by a young Sea Elephant in the evening.
Friday April 16th
Steamed hard to the North West all day to see if we could see anything of the seals. Failed in seeing many, and only picked up half a dozen. Jack Buchan shot a hawk in the evening which the Captain with his eagle eye discerned upon a hummock, and detected even at that great distance to be a hawk. About 18 inches high with beautifully speckled plumage.
Saturday April 17th
Nothing doing all day. Only half a dozen seals again. We are steering South now with the Iceberg, a Norwegian. If we could only make it thirty tons I wd be satisfied. We have about 28 now I think. 26° of frost today. Had singing in the evening in the mates' berth. I began a poem on tobacco which I think is not bad. I never can finish them. C'est que la derniére pas qui conte. [1]
Sunday April 18th
A snowy drizzly kind of a day. Shot a seal in the morning off the bows; it was just sticking its head over the water. Saw two large sea birds, "Burgomasters" they are called. Went to a Methodist meeting in the evening conducted by Johnny McLeod the engineer, he read a sermon from an evangelical magazine and then we sang a hymn together. Argued afterwards with him.
Monday April 19th
Started stuffing our hawk this morning, or rather skinning it, for that is all I can do having no wires. I opened the stomach, then got out the legs to the knees and the humeri, and then inverted the whole body through the hole, cleaning out the brain, and removing everything except the skull. The result was satisfactory. We got a few bladders today, and are going North now to the old sealing. The Captain seems not to like the look of the ice at all.
Tuesday April 20th
Nothing doing all day. Didn't take a single seal. Sailed and steamed to the North East. 72.30 today. Cleaned a couple of seal's flippers for tobacco pouches, rubbed alum all over our hawk's skin.
Wednesday April 21st
Absolutely nothing to do except grumble, so we did that. A most disagreeable day with a nasty cross sea and swell. No seals and nothing but misery. Felt seedy all day. Was knocked out of bed at 1 AM to see a man forwards with palpitations of the heart. That didn't improve my temper.
Thursday April 22nd
A heavy swell still on. Took about 13 of which I shot two. Bad but better than yesterday. Thick fog. Got a newly pupped seal, it seems rather late in the season for that. I have shot hitherto about 15 seals. I intend to count them after this.
Friday April 23rd
Did rather better today taking 36 seals. I made a bag of 11, that is 26 altogether. The shooting was uncommonly bad on the whole. Looks like a gale this evening. Captain saw another hawk. It is an extraordinary thing that we have not fallen in with a bear yet. Captain saw a meteoric stone fall into the water once within a hundred yards of the ship. The Magnetic Pole is in King William's Land Lat 69°. There is another for South Pole, a thing that I never knew before.
Saturday April 24th
We have been steaming North West all day. Saw a fine flock of Eider ducks, the males are black and white, the females bronze with a green head. Picked up 17 more young seals. I think we are not very far from the old ones. Had a pleasant evening in the mates berth. No shooting today. Sparred in the morning. Have a tip to teach Jimmy.
Was talking to Hulton, one of our best harpooners, about zoological curiosities. He says that during a gale between Quebec and Liverpool he saw two fish lying on the surface of the water. They were about 60 feet long and spotted all over, exactly like leopards. An unknown species. The Captain fell in with another species in Lat 68° the hide of which was so thick that no harpoon would pierce it. Here is my list of Northern Whales.
- Right Whales : Proper Greenland whale. Yield 10–20 tons of oil. Bone sells at £1000 a ton. Value of one is £1500-2000. Found in far North between the ice fields.
- Finner Whale : Found in every sea in hundreds. Are longer and stronger than the Right Whale, but very worthless. Some 120 feet long. Razor backed. Spout two jets, proper whale has only one.
- Bottlenose Whales : Found South of the ice, & round Iceland. Only 30 feet long. Give a ton of oil (£80). Skin valuable.
- White Whale (Beluga) : Found everywhere, including Westminster Aquarium. Chiefly at mouths of American rivers. Oil valuable. 16ft long.
- Black Whale : a rare variety. Captain has only seen one. Valuable. Americans get them sometimes off North Cape.
- Hulton's Whale : (Balaena variagatum)
- Capt Gray's Whale : (Balaena ironsidum)
Sunday April 25th
Got among a current of young bladders in the morning and took 22. I did good shooting before dinner, hitting seven in eight shots from the bows. Shot one after dinner and missed two which was poor. We have 2502 now. Saw one old seal. Boxed with Stewart and sang hymns with Johnny. Drew a fine picture of young sealing. Saw a good parody.
- Oh the wild Rhymes he made,
- Small poets wondered
- To see in the 'Light Brigade'
- 'Hundred' and 'Thundered'"
Monday April 26th
Sailing N and NW all day trying for old seals. They lie on the points of heavy ice stretching out into the sea, but you never know exactly where you can come across them; you must just coast along the heavy Greenland ice until you find them. We are 74° North today. Took one young seal yesterday, and saw several. We have nobler game in view. Boxed in evening. Challenged Stewart to run a hundred yards. I understand the sealing business thoroughly now.
Tuesday April 27th
Steaming N and NW all day. We have been among young bay ice and are trying to make the heavy where we may expect seals. Looks as if we were not far off towards evening. Did nothing all day. The skin of my hawk is just ruined. Drew Milne's funeral again at night for his brother who is aboard.
Wednesday April 28th
Made the heavy Greenland ice early in the morning and when I came on deck after breakfast it was stretching along the whole horizon. Heavier ice than any I have seen yet. The effects of the Arctic refraction are very curious. Here are two views at the distance of a mile and close up.
Saw marks of large herd of seals on the ice. A few in water steaming Northward. Was close to the Victor of Dundee in the evening. Beggar has no right to be there. Have the best prospects for tomorrow.
Thursday April 29th
Our prospects have not been realized, for although we saw a few schools of seals in the water, we have not reached their headquarters though we have been steaming North all day. Capt Davidson of the Victor boarded us this morning – a poor specimen of a man, hairy also. Was our mate once, and had the reputation of being a sulky beggar. The effects of refraction were extraordinary tonight, many pieces of ice appearing high up in the air with the sky above and below them. Victor steamed after us all day. We are not far from the seals I'll bet. Saw many Snowbirds about which is a good sign. In Latitude 75°.11.
Friday April 30th
Morning broke very inauspiciously with a Southerly wind and a hazy sky. We are beginning to feel a bit downhearted as our sealing should be begun by this time. Steamed North East after the haze rose, water was like a lake with a great deal of bay ice and numerous loons and petrels. Just before tea we saw a point of heavy ice ahead, and hope to find the seals at the other side of it. I am rather doubtful as we have seen none in the water as yet. The night is very nearly as bright as the day now, I can read Chambers' Journal at midnight easily. Served out grog this evening as tomorrow is the first of May. The ice looks well for the whaling. 10. PM As I thought there are no signs of seals upon the ice, so we have come to the conclusion that we are probably to the North of them. 'Mine too, Mammy." They generally shave newcomers on the first of May and a boat steerer told me this evening that I was to be a victim, but I told him they would have to call two watches to do it. I am fairly sure I could chase the whole of this watch off the deck if I was properly ??????? and I feel just in the humour for a row. I will wait till midnight and see what sort of a job they will make of it.
Saturday May 1st
In the morning there was a heavy swell on and our prospects were of the darkest. Before dinner however there was a change, for we saw a young bladder on the ice, and shortly afterwards a considerable school of seals in the water going before the wind. The Captain and all of us were rather gloomy at dinner time, but the moment he mounted the crow's nest after dinner down came the welcome shout "Call all hands." I was in the second mate's boat and we lowered away about 4.30 PM. It was a fine sight to see the seven long whale boats springing through the blue water as we made for the ice. The seals seemed a good deal whiter than when I saw them last. Mate fired and missed, and not a shot could I get, as he took the boatsteerer with his club and left me to find my way, and test the ice with the butt end of my rifle as best I could. Which was rather scurvy conduct. It was dangerous work on the ice, as I could see no one, and twice only just saved myself from falling in when I should in all probability have been drowned. It is more dangerous work than the young sealing, for the sea undermines these lumps of heavy ice, so that when you think you are perfectly safe on a large piece, the whole thing may crumble thro'. Never got a shot the whole time. Mate slew one. Most miserable work, the worst boat of the lot. If he could shoot as well as I, or I could walk on ice as well as him, we would have had a different tale to tell. However it is jolly to get to work again. Seals were soon frightened off the piece. Went off to the Westward. Here is our day's pickings
- Buchan's Boat ... 14
- Rennie's Boat ... 13
- Carner's Boat ... 10
- Colin's Boat ... 10
- Mathieson's Boat ... 10
- Hulton's Boat ... 9
- McKenzie's Boat ... 2
- Cane's Boat ... 1
- Total ... 69
Sunday May 2nd
Showers, heavy ice, snow and wind all conspiring to ruin us. We steamed North in the teeth of a gale all day persevering manfully. In the evening the Captain came down from the masthead almost in despair, and pointed out a "blink" in the sky showing heavy ice ahead. "If the seals are not there," he said "I must turn South again." We steamed along and then to my delight after tea "All Hands" were suddenly called. A considerable body of seals were in sight but as others were seen coming on to the ice, it was thought advisable to leave them tonight & attack them tomorrow. The great thing is to try and get a turn at them before the Victor sees what we are doing. This Dundee ship is the only one in sight. The Captain of her is a sumph. Turned in early for an early rise.
Monday May 3rd
Boats lowered away about 6 AM. The moment they were down the Victor, who is about five miles off, turned & steamed furiously towards us. I went with Peter McKenzie, the last of the harpooners. We call our boat the "mob." It is manned by all the rag tag and bobtail of the ship, but I think has as good a crew as any. There is Peter harpooner, Jack Coull steerer, the Doctor, Steward, Second Engineer, and Keith the oldest man in the ship. We were the last to leave the ship as the boats were dropped one here, one there. The ice was very heavy and good. At first we had a bad berth and only shot 2 seals, but we poked and pushed our way by sheer hard work through the ice and got into a fine bay lined with seals. Peter and I sprang out with our guns and wriggled our way along the ice, while the crew crept after us to skin what we shot. I saw Peter shoot two, and then I floored one. Then I got behind a hummock and shot nine, five all in a line on the edge of one piece. I was just thinking we would make a good bag and had shot another, while I could hear the ring of Peter's rifle a hundred yards off, when in came the Victor's boats, pell mell all in a heap right at the back of us. The men sprang out, rushing across the ice firing without aiming, jumping up on the top of hummocks, shouting, and making the most fearful mess of it. They scared the seals and spoilt our work and their own too. I don't suppose they got fifty seals all together. Our boat had 27 and the united total of our morning's was 234, Hulton heading the poll with 68, and Cane having only 8. Our Captain lowered the ensign 3 times to the Victor as an ironical "Thanks for your politeness." The moment the boats were aboard we set off at a great rate as the Captain saw a fresh and a larger batch of seals. We had a mouthful of dinner it being 2 P.M. When we came on deck after it we found the Victor had already landed her boats, so choosing another spot off we went. There was an enormous body of seals but very shy, so that we had to make longshots. We got 28 this time and the total came to 287 or so. Altogether today we got 540, a splendid day's work, about 11 tons of oil. Felt tired as I had been pulling and crawling on my face all day. Captain sees another patch of seals for tomorrow.
Tuesday May 4th
At it at 6 AM again. Boats lowered away and dropped here and there as usual. Peter and I got behind a hummock and shot 7 each, when the Captain saw he had not got into the thick of them, so he hoisted the Jack as a signal to the boats to return, he took the first five that came up, including our noble selves in tow, and away he steamed at full speed right past the Victor's boats and dropped us in among a fine patch. It was an energetic and sensible action. I suppose he towed us about 15 miles or so. We made good use of our chances then and shot away hard. The "mob" distinguished itself killing 41, Buchan was best with 75, then Colin with 51, Carner 42, we 41 and the rest very poor. We took 275 and did not lower away again. A Norwegian ship the Diana came in on our flank but did not get very many. One of their boats came alongside ours and we asked them if they had seen the Eclipse to the North, they said theyhad, but I doubt if they understood us. Victor had its men out all night last night – a very short sighted policy.
Wednesday May 5th
Steamed to the NE. Open water round us. Hardly expected any seals.
May 3d 1880.
All hands were called however just before dinner. The Diana got the better of us rather, having all her boats in the heart of the pack before we lowered away. The seals were lying very thick but not over any great extent of ice. Our fellows muddled it completely, each being anxious to get the best position and beat the others. The seals were finally scared off after we had taken 71. Captain seems displeased and quite right too.
End of Volume 1 Log of Hope.
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Game Bag of the "Hope." Voyage 1880.
| My Bag | |||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| April | 3 | 760 Young Seals. | 57 Old Seals. | 1 Old Seal | |
| 4 | 450 Young Seals. | 10 Old Seals. | |||
| 5 | 400 Y. S. | ||||
| 6 | 270 Y. S. | 6 Bladders | 57 Old Seals. | 2 Blad. | |
| 7 | 133 Y. S. | ||||
| 8 | 30 Y. S. | ||||
| 9 | 50 Y. S. | ||||
| 10 | 72 Y. S. | 2 Seals | |||
| 11 | |||||
| 12 | |||||
| 13 | |||||
| 14 | 80 Y. S. | 2 Seals. | |||
| 15 | 46 Y. S. | 2 Bladders. | 2 Seals. 1 Blad. | ||
| 16 | 6 Y. S. | a Hawk. | |||
| 17 | 10 Y. S. | 2 Seals. | |||
| 18 | 10 Y. S. | 1 Seal | |||
| 19 | 6 Y. S. | ||||
| 20 | |||||
| 21 | |||||
| 22 | 13 Y. S. | 2 Seals. | |||
| 23 | 36 Y. S. | 11 Seals. | |||
| April | 24 | 17 Y. S. | |||
| 25 | 22 Y. S. | 8 Seals. | |||
| 26 | |||||
| 27 | |||||
| 28 | |||||
| 29 | |||||
| 30 | |||||
| May | 1 | 69 Old Seals | |||
| 2 | |||||
| 3 | 540 Old Seals | 27 Seals. | |||
| 4 | 275 Old Seals | 10 Seals. | |||
| 5 | 71 Old Seals. | ||||
| 6 | |||||
| 7 | |||||
| 8 | |||||
| 9 | |||||
| 10 | |||||
| 11 | |||||
| 12 | |||||
| 13 | |||||
| 14 | 119 Old Seals | ||||
| 15 | 32 Old Seals. | ||||
| 16 | |||||
| 17 | 6 Old Seals. | ||||
| 18 | |||||
| 19 | |||||
| 20 | |||||
| 21 | |||||
| 22 | |||||
| 23 | |||||
| 24 | |||||
| 25 | |||||
| 26 | |||||
| 27 | |||||
| 28 | |||||
| 29 | |||||
| 30 | 2 Ground Seals | ||||
| 31 | 1 Flaw Rat. | ||||
| June | 1 | 1 Bladdernose. | |||
| 2 | 4 Roaches. | 7 Loons. | |||
| 3 | |||||
| 4 | |||||
| 5 | 1 Bladdernose | ||||
| 6 | 1 Narwhal. | 2 Rare Ducks. | |||
| 7 | |||||
| 8 | 1 Roach. | 1 Loon. | |||
| 9 | 1 Roach. | 6 Snowbirds | |||
| 10 | 1 Kittiwake. | 1 Maulie. | 3 Loons | ||
| 11 | a Whiting | ||||
| 12 | a Bear | ||||
| 13 | |||||
| 14 | |||||
| 15 | |||||
| 16 | |||||
| 17 | |||||
| 18 | a Bear & 2 Cubs. | ||||
| 19 | |||||
| 20 | a Bear | ||||
| 21 | |||||
| 22 | |||||
| 23 | |||||
| 24 | |||||
| 25 | |||||
| 26 | a Greenland whale | ||||
| 27 | |||||
| 28 | |||||
| 29 | |||||
| 30 | a Burgomaster | Snowbird | 5 Loons. | 1 Flaw Rat. |
Log of the "Hope" Vol II
May 6th Thursday
The Captain has come to the conclusion that we had better go South a bit for seals, and let the Diana and Victor go on to the North. We are in 77.20 today, and expected to see the west coast of Spitzbergen. All hands are making off, there is a heavy swell and no signs of seals as yet.
Old sealing. Drawn in a heavy swell.
Steamed SW all day but saw no seals. We have about 50 tons now.
(i.e. Separating the blubber from the skin).
Friday May 7th
The Diana seeing us lying to yesterday night thought we saw something splendid so she came down at a fearful rate to share the booty under steam and canvas. After burning 30/ worth of coals it began to dawn upon the Norwegian mind that the whole thing was a 'do' and a sell, so with a howl of disgust it flitted off again, to Iceland we believe. Under sail all day to N.E. Saw some schools in the water.
Saturday May 8th
Steaming NW. Victor in sight going in the same direction. He follows us as a jackal follows a lion. Ice all marked with seals. A beautiful day. Gave out tobacco and sugar in the evening. Was amused by a sailor's auction. Manson Turville a Shetlander was auctioneer & was particularly eloquent about a very dilapidated and seedy old coat of his which he wanted to palm off. "Going at five plugs of tobacco, at five plugs! Nobody bid any more? A coat warranted to keep out anything under 190 degrees of frost — no advance on five plugs? Gentlemen! Gentlemen! Five plugs and a half. Thank you, sir! Going at five and a half! The figure of a beaver will be found on one side of the lining and a rattlesnake on the other. Not sold but given away! Going, going now or never. Gentlemen, now's your chance for a bargain. Gone." I bought a pair of sealskin trousers from Henry Polson.
Sunday May 9th
Why are seals the most holy of animals? Because it is mentioned in the Apocalypse that at the last day an angel shall open six of them in heaven. None of them to be seen today. The thing is growing monotonous as Mark Twain said when the cow fell down the chimney for the third time while he was composing poetry below. A cloudy day. Have been reading Scoresby's book on whaling. Some of the anecdotes are too big to be swallowed at a gulp, they need chewing. He saw a whale caught in the bight of a rope that held another whale fast. Saw a man go a quarter of a mile on a live whale's back. However on the whole it is an eminently readable book, and very accurate as far as I can judge! Nothing all day. Was down in the harpooners' berth in the evening, conversation ran on zoology, murders, executions and ironclads. Steaming to the Northwest.
Monday May 10
We are down in 73.20 now or only just to the N of the place where we were young sealing. We are going North again I am glad to say. No seals. Served out coffee and tea in the morning. Glass had a tremendous fall after tea, and it came on thick rain and wind. I hope we are going to have a bit of a hurricane. Anything to wake us up. A codfish has been brought up through the pumps in a case of a big leak.
Tuesday May 11
A heavy gale during the night, and nearly all day. We hardly feel more than the force of the wind however, as the ice forms fine natural harbours. Running North all day. It is too bad this – after we began our old sealing so well too. However this is a trade of ups and downs, and we must wait for the swing of the pendulum. Old Peter got a nasty cut over the eye tonight from a rope, and seemed to think he was blinded, but I set him right again. Misery & desolation.
Wednesday May 12
A most beautiful day. Blue sky which is rare up here as the sky is usually rather peasoupish. A good many seals in the water but none on the ice. As clear at midnight as during the day. A "finner" whale was seen spouting near the ship after dinner, but I was asleep myself at the time. I would have liked to have seen it. Balaena Physalis is its scientific name, and it is the swiftest, strongest, biggest and most worthless of the whale tribe, so hunting them is rather a losing game. However there is a regular finner fishery. They are worth about £120 each, and our whale about £1500, so we are on the right side of the bargain. Played Catch the Ten in the mates' berth for love. The last time I had a card in my hand was at Greenhill Place. Saw a "flaw rat" today swimming round the ship. It is the smallest variety of seals. Captain's idea for the cure of baldness. Pick hairs out of another man's head by the roots. Then bore little holes in your head and plant them. He dreamed it.
Thursday May 13th
I hear from the engine room that Mr. McLeod, our chief engineer, has done me the honour to read my private log every morning, and make satirical comments upon it at table, and among his own firemen. Now I would as soon that he read my private letters as my journal, in fact a good deal sooner, and it is just one of those things which I won't stand from any man. If any man meddles with my private business I know how to deal with him. I am only astonished that a man professing religious principles should act with such a want, I won't say of gentlemanly honour, but of common honesty. If he does it after this warning he shall answer for it to me. A sensible man might be trusted, but a man who will talk about my prejudices against boiled beef &c. in the engine room must be suppressed. I hope this may meet his eye in the morning.
Saw a "finner" whale today. I had no idea of the size and sleekness of the brutes before. His blast looked like a puff of white smoke. He was a good quarter of a mile from the ship but when he dived I could see every fin. A most enormous creature. Prospects look brighter this morning as seals have been seen on the ice, and a good many in the water. Cane came running down about 11 PM to say that he saw a good strip on the ice.
Friday May 14th
Boats lowered away about 9 AM. Seals would not lie at all though. They have come up all the way from the Labrador coast, and are nothing but skin and hair after their month's traveling. Our boat was one of the highest with 5. We took 63 in the boats & then came aboard. The harpooners were sent over the bows to attack the remainder of the pack and killed 56 more making a total of 119. It is pleasant to get started again. Cane was frightened by an enormous walrus with a head like a barrel coming up beside him while he was flinching a seal on the ice. He fired 4 shots into it, but it only seemed amused, and swam away.
Saturday May 15th
Sent away two boats in the morning, Colin's and Hulton's, to a small patch of seals. Took 32 of them. Steamed and sailed North afterwards but saw no more blubber. The time is rapidly approaching now when we must coil our whale lines and go North.
Unless we fall among seals in the next two days, we must give it up. We think the Eclipse and the Windward are North already, we have seen nothing of them since more than a month ago, when they ran down to Iceland for the bottle nosing Reading Scoresby's journal of his discoveries between Lat 69° & 74° on the coast of east Greenland. The last Danish settlements on that coast are a very curious problem. He found no trace of them.
Sunday May 16th
No seals. Lat 76.33 at noon. Banging away to the North as hard as we can go. Port wine. Old Cooper tumbled down the hatch and broke his arm nearly.
Monday May 17th
A beautiful day. Steamed to the North all day. Lat 77° Longt 5 East. About 100 miles west of Spitzbergen. Got 6 from a small patch of seals after dinner. They are getting very thin. The ones we have captured lately we consider to be, not Greenland seals, but seals from the Labrador coast which after their month's traveling could hardly be expected to be in prime condition. Rigged up the harpoon guns this morning. Fearfully cumbrous things working on a swivel with a pull of 28 lbs.
Has to be let off by pulling at a string. Carries a harpoon about 30 yards with some accuracy. Base about 1½ inches.
Tuesday May 18th
Cleaned out the boats and made all straight for whaling. During dinner a sail was seen to the N.W, which turned out on closer inspection to be the Windward, which we thought was South with the Eclipse at the bottlenose fishing. We hauled our yards aback and waited for him. Murray came aboard with a very dismal tale to tell. After the young sealing he had been too ambitious to content himself with the modest work that we had stuck to, picking up half a ton a day or so, but he had run right away North at once to Spitzbergen after whales, not taking a single old seal. The result of his ambition is that we have about 52 tons now, and he about 28. He has been here three weeks and never seen a fish. He gives a most discouraging account of the whole thing, and will, I think, go away after the bladders. A heavy gale blew from the SW during the evening, a most awkward direction for us.
Wednesday & Thursday May 19 & 20
Blowing a hard gale both days. We are tacking and turning between the ice and Spitzbergen. We can make out the Windward in the lulls, sometimes ahead, sometimes astern. Sea running very high, and sky as dark as possible. Took a sea aboard on Wednesday, giving the watch a fine ducking. My old foe, Toothache, has it seems followed me all the way from Scotland, and been hiding about the ship the whole voyage. Yesterday it came out from its concealment and said "Ah, mine enemy, and have I found thee?", where upon it seized hold of me by one of my incisors and twinged it so, that my whole face is distorted today. (Addison). On Thursday we saw the wild bleak coast of Spitzbergen breaking through the rifts of the storm. A great line of huge black perpendicular crags running up to several thousand feet, as black as coal but all seamed with lines of snow. A horrible looking place. We were thinking of running in and anchoring in King's Bay, but the chart was mislaid. Toothache.
Friday May 21st
Spitzbergen still in sight about 50 miles to the North East. A complete lull in the wind but the sky very dark, and a heavy swell on, from which we think we will have a change of wind. Windward went South, and in the evening we saw the Eclipse coming up in the distance. As we had not seen her for a month we were anxious to know what she had done. The Captain boarded her and after three hours came back with the news that she had been down to Iceland and had managed to capture 32 bottlenose whales, a very large take. They yield on an average a ton apiece, and as Captain David had also as many young and old seals as we, he has managed to beat us so far. 90 tons I believe he has got. This wind has done us terrible injury by packing all the ice up close, and destroying all the bights or bays in it in which whales are usually found. However we must just keep up our peckers, and hope for the best.
Saturday May 22nd
A heavy swell all day. I come of age today. Rather a funny sort of place to do it in, only 600 miles or so from the North Pole.
May 20th 1880.
"The Seven Ice Mountains" to the left.
Had rather a doleful evening on my birthday, as I was very seedy for some reason or another. The Captain was very kind and made me bolt two enormous mustard emetics which made me feel as if I had swallowed Mount Vesuvius, but did me a lot of good. Eclipse sailing near us all day. Ice is sadly damaged.
Sunday May 23d
Plum Duff day again — a fine day, the swell all gone. Sailing in to the West again down the tight ice. The Captain and I have been making most villainous parodies of Jean Ingelow's "Sparrows Build"
"When Sparrows build & the L- "When 'Burgies' build their Greenland nest,
- My spirit groans and pines
- For I know there are seals in the Nor'Nor'West
- But its time to 'coil our lines.'
- Far down in the South the 'Bladders' lie
- But the Devil a one near me,
- And the 'Unis' are sticking their horns on high
- As they plunge & play in the sea
Chorus
- But oh the Whale, and the right, right whale!
- And the whale we all love so
- Is there never a 'bight' in the Greenland 'tight'
- Where a
whale has room to12 foot whale can blow.
- Thou didst set thy foot on the ship and fare,
- To that
sadcold and lonely shore, - Thou wert sad for the seals were all skin & hair,
- And they came from Labrador.
- And 'Meg' he came and scared away
- Some twenty mile at the least,
- And how could we tell where the 'Flappies' lay,
- With a great bay flaw to the east.
Chorus
- We shall never again sail back in May,
- As we oft before have done
- Or take four thousand 'young' in a day
- And go home with two hundred ton,
- We shall never be full with seals alone
- For all our work and toil,
- But we'll never say die while whales yield bone,
- And 'Bladders' give up their oil
Chorus.
Monday May 24th
Another fine day. We are going to have a little luck at last I hope. 6 p.m. No, we are not though. We are certainly awfully unlucky this year. A strong wind has set in from the East and is packing up a nice little bight which was forming, and playing the deuce with our prospects. Colin says we have a Jonah aboard. Eclipse near us. Got our harpoon guns stuck up.
Tuesday May 25th
Worser and worserer. Wind still blowing from the East and murdering the ice. All hands disgusted. Eclipse set sail for the South but seemed to think better of it and came back again. Horrible!
Wednesday May 26th
A fine day but the ice is ruined. Wormed our way through it as best we could. I was smoking my afternoon pipe on the quarter deck when there was a cry of "A bear – close to the ship." Captain was at the masthead and sang out at once to "Lower away the Quarter Boat." I ran down for my shooting iron and succeeded in getting a seat in the boat. I could see the bear — a great brute — looking quite tawny against the white snow, and running very fast in a direction parallel to the ship. Then he crouched down in a hole of water about a couple of hundred yards off, and hid with just his nose above surface. Mathieson was harpooner of the boat and we pulled off, but had to make a bit of a circuit to get through the ice. We lost sight of him, and when we saw him again he was standing with his forepaws on the top of a hummock and his head in the air, staring at us and sniffing. We were within shot then but we thought he would let us get nearer, so we bent to our oars. But some associations connected with boats seemed to dawn on his obtuse intellect, for he suddenly got off the hummock and we lost sight of him. Then we saw the signal hoisted for the boat to come aboard, and spied Bruin traveling over the ice at a great rate, and a long way off, so we had to give it up as a bad job. Wind still Easterly.
| Buchan | 14 | + | 87 | + | 75 | + | 18 | + | 20 | = | 214 |
| Colin | 10 | + | 85 | + | 51 | + | 8 | + | 7 | = | 161 |
| Hulton | 9 | + | 112 | + | 11 | + | 6 | + | 12 | = | 150 |
| Carner | 10 | + | 61 | + | 42 | + | 11 | + | 2 | = | 126 |
| McKenzie | 2 | + | 55 | + | 41 | + | 8 | + | 5 | = | 111 (mob) |
| Rennie | 13 | + | 68 | + | 26 | + | 7 | + | 2 | = | 116 |
| Mathieson | 10 | + | 47 | + | 10 | + | 11 | + | 2 | = | 80 |
| Cane | 1 | + | 36 | + | 20 | + | 2 | + | 13 | = | 72 |
| Scramble | 55 | ||||||||||
| Young Sealing | 141 | ||||||||||
| Total | 1216 Old Seals | ||||||||||
May 26th 1880.
Thursday May 27th
Ice began to close round us fast in the morning, and we had to steam our way out to the open sea as best we could, to save ourselves from being beset or nipped. Had a difficult job to get out. Eclipse kept in our wake. Captain went on board her to dinner and stayed till about eight. I drew, slept, played draughts and boxed while he was away. We are going off to 80° North Latitude to see what is up there, right up to the Northern Barrier in fact. The terror of the seas up here is an animal which is called the Swordfish, but is not a swordfish at all. It is one of the whale tribe with a long snout like a mackerel, and great pointed teeth the whole length of its jaws. It attains the length of 25 feet, and is distinguished by a high curved dorsal fin. It feeds on the largest sharks, on seals and on whales. Yule of the Esquimeaux took six whales the other year in the Straits, which actually came and cowered under the ship for protection, because one of these monsters was in the vicinity. The Captain tells me that he was in the crow's nest one day when he saw a great hubbub ahead of the ship. On examination with the glass he made out that it was an enormous sea elephant which was sitting on a piece of ice very little larger than itself. In the water round it were half a dozen of these bloodthirsty fish, which were striking the poor creature with their long fins, trying to knock him off his perch when they would have made short work of him. As the ship came up the Captain says he never shall forget the look which the poor seal cast towards it with its bigeyes, and suddenly taking an enormous bound off the bit of ice, it squattered along the surface of the water, and took such a leap towards the ship's side, that its head was above the taffrail, and it very nearly gained the deck. A boat was lowered, when the great 12 foot creature climbed into it, and was knocked on the head. Balls had to be fired into the fish to keep them from attacking the boat, they were so riled at the disappearance of their prey.
Friday May 28th
Steaming North and North East all day, in company with the Eclipse. It is clear we are not going to have any whales in May, and we can only hope for the best in June. Thick fog in the evening and we had to blow our steam whistle and fire guns for several hours before we could find the Eclipse which was also screaming loudly. Took a bang at some loons on the ice at a long range with my rifle, since signals were the order of the day, but although I hit the piece and knocked the snow all over them I slew none.
Saturday May 29th
The less said about Saturday the better. Let Saturday sink into oblivion. Nothing doing. Fog in the evening. Lat 79.10 North at noon. Played cards in evening.
Sunday May 30th
Captain David came aboard in the morning and expressed great dissatisfaction at the state of the ice, in fact he said he had never seen it worse. Dr. Walker came afterwards with a logbook for me which the Captain very kindly sent. In the morning we espied two objects swimming near the ice, which the Captain made out to be two ground seals, a rare variety, nearly as large as bladdernoses. We lowered away a boat and after an exciting chase, and an exhibition of bad shooting on the part of the harpooner, we nailed them both. They were a female and young one, the former about 8 ft. 6. By the way, talking of bladdernoses, Colin killed one once which measured 14 feet long. It charged the boat and nearly bit the harpoon gun in two. We hope we may have a turn in the luck now after this small capture. By the way one of the most interesting things in Arctic Zoology was the capture last year of a large albatross by Capt David, in 80° North Latitude. Where did the breed come from? It looks as if the temperature of the Pole was semitropical.
Monday May 31st
Dreamed about whales in the Caledonian Canal and how frightened we were lest some of the barges or horses would scare them. There were 17 of them, all bottlenoses under a bridge. A very curious dream. The wind this morning is WNW which is excellent, and the water is of a greenish hue which is excellenter.
By the way I haven't half exhausted my curious dream. While we were away killing the whales under the canal bridge I heard it strike two o'clock, and it suddenly came into my head that my final professional was to have begun at one. Horrified, I abandoned the whales and rushed to the University. The janitor refused me admission to the examination room, and after a desperate hand to hand struggle he ejected me. Even then I did not wake, but dreamed that someone handed me out a paper to see what the questions were like. There were four questions but I forget the two middle ones. The first was "Where is the water ten miles deep near Berlin?" The last was headed NAVIGATION, and the question was this word for word, "If a man and his wife and a horse were in a boat, how could the wife get the man and the horse out of the boat without swamping it?" I grumbled very much at these questions, and said it was not fair to introduce Navigation into a medical examination. Then I determined to send the paper to Captain Gray and get him to answer it, and then at last I woke up. Certainly the most connected dream, as well as the most vivid I ever had.
This evening our foretop yard came down with a run owing to the breaking of a shackle, and smashed the halliards. We put up a spare spar and made all right again within four hours, a fine bit of seamanship. Captain has gone up to the nest and I am writing this before the cheery cabin fire. I hear the hammering on deck as they do up the broken yard, and just outside the door the Steward is remarking in a really first class tenor that 'At midnight on the sea-leas – Her bright smile haunts me still.' It seems to haunt him at midnight, and then he employs the odd 23 hours in commenting upon the fact. Captain David was onboard in the evening, and lent me a pamphlet on whales. I was experimenting on the 'maulies' in the evening. I took 4 pieces of bread and soaked them, one in strychnine, one in carbolic acid, one in sulphate of zinc, and one in turpentine. Then I threw the mover to the birds to see which would work quickest, but to my horror an old patriarch stepped forward and swallowed the whole four pieces, and strange to say he didn't seem a bit the worse.
Tuesday June 1st
I trust that we may have better luck this month, than last. We can see the Northern Barrier along the whole horizon. Eclipse is getting up steam and I suppose we are going to have a look at the bight in Lat 78° out of which we were driven, and then we will run away to Scoresby Sound on the Liverpool Coast if nothing turns up. Water is full of animalculae and olive green in colour.
- Balaena mystractus!
- Balaena mysticetus!
- If we were animalculae
- You wouldn't take long to eat us.
Captain says he has seen whales spouting so thick that it looked like the smoke of a large town. A very good description. By the way the water rose 8 degrees yesterday, from which we think we are in the Gulf Stream. Passed a piece of a fir tree floating in the water. It has come many thousands of miles, drifting down the Obi or Yenesei rivers in Siberia and so into the Arctic seas by the NW current.
Saw two bladdernoses in the evening but only got one on account of bad shooting. Hoped to get away and shoot roaches in the evening but there weren't any. Buchanshot four in the morning.
Wednesday June 2
Plying West and South under canvas. Captain suffering from Ablubberomnia. Very cold, as cold as it was in April. My hair is coming out and I am getting prematurely aged. Read a good story that a doctor was buried in the middle of a large churchyard, and a professional brother suggested as an epitaph "Si monumentum quaeris, circumspice." Very witty, I think. It is very disheartening to be kept off the whaling banks like this by the ice. As the Stewart says "it makes a lad inclined to jump up, and never come down again." Sydney Smith said of Jeffrey "His body is too small to cover his mind. Jeffrey's intellect is always indecently exposed." Very clever too. Saw the marks of a large bear in the evening, also a bladdernose in the water. Things look rather more hopeful this evening, as we have made considerable way to the Westward, and are close to the whalebanks.
Thursday June 3d
Very cold again, a great hoar frost is on. Strong wind from the North. We are in the most promising place we have seen yet and if the wind holds we ought to catch some of the minnows we are after. Came on a fog in the evening. I have my cod line overboard baited with pork but have not had a bite. About 50 sail of Russians come to Spitzbergen this month to hunt cod, so there must be some knocking about. Had the bag net out tonight and towed it to see if there was any food. Brought up a most beautiful Clio or Sea Snail, a couple of inches long, looking like some weird little fairy. I have stuck him in a pickle bottle and christened him "John Thomas." I hope he will live, we have put some butter and pork into his house. Saw a good many narwhals knocking about, one very large one, almost snow white and quite 15 feet, ricocheted past the stern, making the peculiar grunt they give when they rise. Also saw some beautiful medusae.
Friday June 4th
John Thomas is in an awful passion. We left the pickle bottle far from the fire, and as there are 11 degrees of frost it froze up and John has caught cold. He is sitting in a corner with his tail in his mouth, just as a sulky baby sticks its thumb into its potato box. I have drawn John's attention to the butter & pork and he took a hurried breakfast, but seems to have business of importance down at the bottom of the bottle. He's thinking perhaps of
- Where his rude shell by the Gulf Stream lay,
- There were his little Sea Snails all at play,
- There their Amoeboid mother, he their sire
- Butchered to make a whale's holiday.
Just after one o'clock I was standing on deck talking to Andrew Hulton about the general bleakness of affairs. He is one of our best harpooners. I happened to ask "By the way, Andrew, when a man does see a whale I suppose he never sings out 'There she blows' as put in books." He said "Oh they cry 'There's a fish' or anything that comes into their head, but there's Colin going up to the masthead, so I must go on the bridge." Up he went on the bridge and the moment he got there he bellowed out "There's a fish!" There was a rush for the boats by the watch but the Captain put a stop to it. "Do things quietly," he said "and man the boats when I give the word." We could see two blasts ahead among the ice, and I caught a glimpse of the back of one of the great creatures as he dived. We lowered away the boats of the watch and afterwards four others, six boats in all, and our hopes ran high but were alas doomed to disappointment. Two other fish appeared, and the four went off to the WNW. The boats kept after them (heavy ice) for four hours, but it was no go, something seemed to have scared them. However it is something to be on their trail. We see a flaw water ahead and hope we are going to have a fine time of it in there. The Eclipse was also after two fish but lost them owing to the unskilfulness of their second mate who lost his post in consequence.
Saturday June 6th [5th]
John is well and hearty. Saw a great many narwhals today, but none of what we want. Kept a lookout on the bridge from breakfast to dinner. We saw a large sea elephant on the ice about noon, and Andrew Hulton & I went away and shot it. About 9 feet long and very fat. We opened its stomach and found it contained a very large assortment of cuttlefish. Captain went aboard the Eclipse in the evening. The guano here is blood red, and has a curious effect. Plenty of birds about. Wind coming round to the South. It is a most exciting business, the tension on the nerves is very great.
Sunday June 6th
John was up before me and took a heavy breakfast. He is now gyrating round the top of his bottle surveying his new kingdom apparently and meditating a map. I put him in a bucket every evening where he wanders fancy free for an hour or two. Wind is round to SW, I am glad to say, it was S SW yesterday. We may see fish any moment now, the water is a peculiar dark grey green. I thought I smelled a fish yesterday from the deck. You can often smell the greasy smell long before you see them. Aaron our Shetland boy, the son of old Peter the prophet, was in the crew of the boat that visited the Eclipse yesterday. When he came back I heard him go straight to his father and begin with
- "Father, Peter Shane's been treaming!"
- (Peter Shane is the rival prophet of the Eclipse)
- "Ay, boy. What?"
- "Peter Shane's had a tream, Father."
- "And what did he tream, boy?"
- "He treamed he saw them killing cows on poard the Hope."
- "Oh a good tream, boy, a good tream. That means that the Hope will have the first fish. A very good tream."
So we still have some hopes.
Saw a large cuttlefish under the surface, and a good many medusae and clios. About 3 PM word came that the Eclipse boats were away. They were several hours after their fish but finally they were recalled by the hoisting of the bucket. About 6 PM Adam Carner saw a blast a long way off from the masthead. Four boats were sent off in pursuit, but failed even to catch a glimpse of the whale. Jack Buchan, who by the way started in his shirt and trousers just as he tumbled out of bed, nailed a narwhal or Sea Unicorn about 13 feet long, with a horn of 2 feet. The harpoon cut its throat most beautifully. It was towed by the four boats and hoisted aboard. Beautifully speckled with black and grey. After flinching it we opened the stomach which we found to be full of a very large shrimp, which I take to be the "Mountebank" shrimp, and with lots of cuttlefish. It had two distinct sets of parasites upon it, one like a long thin worm in the drum of its ear, the other seed-like at the root of the horn.
Two very rare ducks were seen behind the ship this evening. The Captain went off himself in a boat and nailed them both with a right and left barrel. No one onboard has seen the species before. They have a yellowish beak with an orange callosity stretching up in a curve from the base of the beak towards the eyes. They are rather larger than our ducks, dark brown on the head, white on the neck, dark brown on the back, lighter silvery brown on the breast. All the plumage very soft & delicate.
Monday June 7th
No fish seen today though the Captain thought he had a glimpse of one in the evening. I went aboard the Eclipse after tea to get some arsenical soap to preserve our ducks with. Captain David says he thinks they are King Eider ducks, a very rare bird. Captain David came back with me and stayed an hour. He was after three fish yesterday but got none. I caught a petrel by flinging a lead with a bit of string attached over its head, when the string warped round it and I hauled it in. It looked confoundedly astonished. I let it away again. Wind North & North East. Blowing hard in the morning
Tuesday June 8th
Steamed a bit in the morning. Sun shining brightly. Secured the ship by an anchor to a piece of floating ice, and whistled for a change of wind. Sent away three expeditions after narwhals but without any success. Went away birds hooting but only got two shots killing a roach and maiming a loon. Peppered a flaw rat but it got away. Grant saw the steps of an Arctic fox on the ice. Had a pleasant day on the whole. Captain says if I will load my own cartridges I may blaze away until all is blue. Made sail again in the evening. Played 'Nap' in the engine room. Almost dead calm.
Wednesday June 9th
We were forced to come out towards the open sea again today on account of changes in the ice. Eclipse and we moored ourselves onto one piece of ice in the evening. Captain David & Dr Walker came aboard us about ten PM and stayed until two. They shot a very large bear upon the ice today. It was sitting munching away at the head of a narwhal which it had dragged on to the ice, while a great shark was wiring into the tail which hung over into the water. How the bear got a narwhal onto the ice is a mystery. Went away at two o'clock in the morning to shoot birds. They were very scarce however and I was only enabled to get a roach and 6 snowbird. Saw a large bladdernose but were unable to get a shot at it. Came back at 4 PM.
Thursday June 10th
Still trying hard to get into where we know the whales are lying. Made some progress under steam and then anchored with the Eclipse to an iceberg. Shot a kittiwake and a loon off the deck, and then got two more loons while picking up the first. Amused myself in the afternoon by catching petrels by flinging a lead over the heads of them, and warping the string round their wings, something like the South American "bolas." By the way when I shot a roach the other day a great maulie seized it the moment it fell and regardless of the shouts of the boat's crew, and my frantic howls, proceeded to bear it away, but I shied a boat's stretcher at it and scared it off.
- John Thomas
- died on the 8th of June, regretted
- by a large circle of acquaintances
He was a right thinking and high minded Clio, distinguished among his brother sea snails for his mental activity as well as for physical perfection. He never looked down upon his smaller associates because they were protozoa while he could fairly lay claim to belong to the high family of the Echinodermata or Annulosa. He never taunted them with their want of a water vascular system, nor did he parade his own double chain of ganglia. He was a modest and unassuming blob of protoplasm, and could get through more fat pork in a day than many an animal of far higher pretensions. His parents were both swallowed by a whale in his infancy, so that what education he had was due entirely to his own industry and observation. He has gone the way of all flesh so peace be to his molecules.
Zoological List of Whaling Voyage
INVERTEBRATA
I Protozoa
- Any number in whale's food
II Infusoria
- Rice food.
III Annulosa
- Common Louse (on a Shetlander)
- Shrimp (common)
- Clio Borealis (John Thomas)
- Shrimp "Mountebank"
- Clio Helicina
- Horn louse of Narwhal
- Ear louse of Narwhal
- Whale louse (Ocina)
IV Echinodermata
- Medusa gulius 78.40 N.
- Medusa ————? 78.40 N.
- Flask-shaped medusa 78.5 N.
V Mollusca
- Sepia ———— 78.40 N.
VERTEBRATA
I AVES
- Arctic Petrel or "Maulie" (Procellaria Glacialis)
- Foolish Guillemot or "Loon" (Colymbus Troile)
- Roach (Arca Alle) Doveca (Colymbus Grylle)
- Burgomaster (Larus Glaucus)
- Kittiwake (Larus Rissa) Snowbird (Larus Eburneus)
- Snow Bunting (Emberiza Nivalis)
- Redpoll (Fringilla Linaria) 75 N.
- Puffin or "Tammy Norie" (Alta Artica) 78 N.
- Boatswain (Larus Crepidatus) 78.12 N.
- Iceland hawk (Falco Icelandicus) 73.40 N.
- Great White Owl (Stryx scandiaca) 71 N.
- Great Tern or Sea Swallow (Sterna Hirundo) 78.18 N.
- Brent Geese (Anas Bernicla) 78 N.
- Eider duck (Anas Mollissima)
- Sea Gull (Larus Communis)
- Shag (Lerwick)
- Duck (Calvo?) Very rare. King Eider. 78.50 N
- Arctic Starling 78.6 N.
- Sandpiper 75.30 N.
- Arctic Gull 69° N.
II PISCES
- Flaw fish (rather like a whiting) 78.40 N.
- Silver Fish 78.12 N.
- Herring 69°.
- Squalus Greenlandicus or Greenland Shark
III MAMMALIA
- Horsesaddle Seal (Phoca Vitulina)
- Bladdernosed Seal
- Flaw Rat
- Ground Seal 79 N.
- Walrus (Trichechus Rosmarus) 77.30 N.
- Whitefaced Seal
- Fresh Water Seal (78 N.)
- Orca Gladiator. The Greenland Swordfish. Lat 69 N.
- Bottlenosed Whale (Delphinus Deductor) 63 N.
- Razorback Whale (Balaena Physalis)
- Narwhal (Monodon Monoceros)
- Right Whale (Balaena Mysticetus)
- Balaena Musculus (Hunchback whale) 68° N.
- Ursus Maritimus or Polar bear
- Canis Lagopus or Arctic Fox
Additional birds seen on passage
- Solan Goose
- Stienchuck
- Stormy Petrel
- Black Back Gull
- Sparrow Hawk
- Mallet
Log of the steam Ship "Hope" Vol III
Friday June 11th
We made a few miles in the right direction. The Eclipse shot two bears this morning. About one o'clock a fish came up near the Eclipse but was not captured. We made fast to an iceberg in the evening. Caught a curious fish today, the first I have seen in Greenland. It looked rather like a whiting, but was not one. Jack Williamson one of our hands got a terrible blow from the wheel. It exposed the bone of his skull for about 5 inches. Stitched it up and sent him to bed. Steward, the boatsteerer and I were walking on the ice in the evening and both distinctly saw the blast of a fish about half a mile off among the pack ice. It could not however be reached by boats.
Saturday June 12th
The ice is shutting rather than opening. Hope deferred maketh the heart sick. Men shot a bear off the side about eight o'clock. I was asleep and so missed the fun. Stomach was full of seal oil but he was very thin [ink blurred by humidity] shots. Went aboard the Eclipse at dinner time with the Captain. Had a pleasant feed and chat. Captain David seems far from despairing. Strong wind from W and SW — ought to do us good. Ice began to close round us so rapidly that we had to steam out 30 miles or so to prevent being nipped or beset. Had a difficult job to get out as it was. The sea this morning was actually swarming with narwhals.
Sunday June 13th
Got a fine opening towards the Westward and worked in a gain about as far as we came out, going W & SW. Saw nothing but one seal in the water the whole time. Need about 20 miles north to take us into whaling ground. "Thou art so near and yet so far." It does seem hard after our penetrating impenetrable packs, and leaving forty miles of shifting heavy ice between us and the sea, exposing ourselves to every danger of storm and flood, and putting ourselves in the way of losing our ship and ourselves, or of being beset and wintering out, that we shd be no better off than the half hearted beggars who shun the whole concern, and go South after small game. It is a shame and a sin, and can't last long. The Eclipse and ourselves are the last of ten generations of daring Arctic seamen, the breed has deteriorated and we are the sole survivors of the men who used to harry Greenland from the 80 to the 72, and here we are stuck in the mud & helpless. It would make a saint swear.
Monday June 14th
Thick fog in the morning. Blew foghorns but got no answer from the Eclipse. Jack Williamson, the man with the head, is doing very well. Things look as bad as they can be and worse. I hope we will go and hunt bladdernoses instead of persevering at this. The whales are only 20 miles off but an impassable barrier of ice intervenes, and the wind is such as to pack the ice firmer together, rather than to open it out. We want wind from the W, NW or NWW and we are getting it all from the South. Ο ποποι ποποι! 53 tons! Such is life!
Tuesday June 15th
The only difference in the weather is that the fog is thicker and the wind more utterly odious and depraved. However we are at the bottom of our woes for nothing could make our situation worse, so "there's an end on 't" as old Sam Johnson used to say. Captain went aboard the Eclipse at dinner time. I do hope we'll go and slay bladdernoses or bottlenoses or any other animal who has some peculiarity about its nose, and carries blubber on its carcase. Browsed over Boswell all day.
Wednesday June 16th
The Eclipse lowered away after a whale about 8 AM and pursued it until noon, but did not get it. The fact is we are not upon the grounds, and any we see are stragglers on the march, and not stopping to feed. Wind Westerly, so far so good. Calm in the evening, sea looks like quicksilver, the whole place covered with narwhals, great brutes 15 & 16 feet long. You hear their peculiar "Sumph!" in every direction. I saw one pass like a great flickering white ghost underneath the keel. Reading "Tristam Shandy," a coarse book but a very clever one.
Thursday June 17th
An eventful day – for the Eclipse at any rate. In the morning about 10 AM Colin saw a whale from the crow's nest about five miles off while the Eclipse had her boats after another. We made sail and reached up towards Colin's fish but did not see it again until about 1 PM when it suddenly appeared within 50 yards of the ship, accompanied by another one. The two were gambling and frisking in the water like a couple of lambs. We lowered away four boats, Colin's, Carner's, Rennie's and Peter's which all pulled up for a piece of ice where the fish were likely to reappear. They came up there near Rennie's boat, but he unfortunately is not a man of much decision of character, and he hesitated to fire into the nearest fish for fear of scaring the other, which was turned eye on to him. The fish separated, one disappearing and the other leading the boats a most exciting chase to windward. From the deck I could see its blast rising apparently just in front of the boats, and its great tail waving in the air, but our men could never get quite within shot of it. The Eclipse, seeing the way the whale was heading, came round that way and dropped two boats in front of it. The whale came up in front of one, the second mate's, and in a moment we had the mortification of seeing the boat's Jack flying, as a sign they were fast to our fish. It is hard to see a thousand pounds slip through your fingers so. They killed the fish during dinner and had it aboard before 8 PM. Rennie got a fine wigging from the Captain when he came aboard.
After dinner we saw a large bear on a point of ice apparently in a great state of excitement, probably due to the smell of the whale's blood. I got off in the boat with Mathieson to kill it. We got out on the ice, a great flaw many miles across, with our rifles, and could see the bear poking about among some hummocks about 40 yards away from us. Suddenly he caught sight of us and came for us at a great speed, running across the pieces of ice towards us, and lifting up his forefeet as he ran in a very feline way. Mathieson and I were kneeling down on the ice, and I intended not to fire until the brute was right on the top of us. Mathieson however let blaze when it was about15 yards off, and just grazed its head. It turned and began trotting away from us, and as it only presented its stern I was compelled to put my bullet into that. It was wounded but went off across the ice at a great rate, and we never saw it more.
Saw a "boatswain" gull today. Row in the mates' berth in the evening.
Friday June 18th
Eclipse struck another fish during the night and had it aboard before breakfast. Lucky dogs! Buchan shot a fine bear and two cubs during the night. By the way my bear of yesterday, when it had escaped some distance, got up on its hind legs on the top of a hummock like a dancing bear, to have a good look at us.
I had no idea they did that in a state of nature. Cruised about all day in search of blubber but found none. Our boats and the Eclipse were after one fish at night but they never got a start. Ice is closing round us and we are cut off from the sea, so that unless there comes a change of wind, we may easily be beset. We are all very melancholy.
Saturday June 19th
Calm as a fishpond, water like quicksilver. A good many narwhals about. The ice is remaining stationary or thereabouts. No fish seen today at all. A shark was seen to come up alongside and nail a maulie out of the water. We wouldn't mind being unsuccessful if others shared the same fate, but it is maddening that the Eclipse should make £3000 while we have not made a penny. Our Captain is as good a fisherman as ever came to Greenland, there are no two opinions on board on that point, quite as good as his brother David, but somehow the luck seems to be with the others. They have seen from first to last about 14 fish to our 5.
Sunday June 20th
A large fish was seen during breakfast, but after a short pursuit it got among pack ice where it was impossible to follow it. It was very nearly within reach once. This is terrible, to see fish and not to get them. No man who has not experienced it can imagine the intense excitement of whale fishing. The rarity of the animal, the difficulty attending any approach to its haunts, its extreme value, its strength, sagacity and size, all give it a charm. A large bear was shot during the night.
Ice closed round us during the day but relaxed towards evening. Captain David came aboard during the day, and our Captain went and had supper with him. One of his harpooners was attacked in his boat by a bear the other day when he had no rifle with him, but he banged the hard wad of the harpoon gun through it, which was ingenious. That was nothing however to what one of our harpooners did a few years ago, which would be incredible if I did not know it to be true. Buchan was sent to shoot a bear and two cubs on the ice, but they took to the water before he reached them. He passed the noose of a rope over the head of each, as they swam and snarled at him, and tied the ends of the three ropes to his thwarts. All the oars were then run in except the steer oar, and Buchan standing in the bows and banging them on the head with a boathook whenever they offered to turn, guided the boat right back to the ship, the bears towing it the whole way. The Stewart, who saw it, says the roaring could be heard a mile off. Some hopes for tomorrow.
Monday June 21st
Hopes not realized as usual. We are shut up in a small hole of water with nothing but great ice fields as far as we can see. If it goes on shutting up we will be beset and our chances of any success ruined. Colin bad with a sore throat. No fish about. Caught a beautiful Sea Lemon yesterday floating on the surface but it died shortly after being brought onboard. Saw a very curious sight at midnight, which you might come North a lifetime and never see. There were three distinct suns shining at the same time with equal brilliancy, and all begirt by beautiful rainbows, and with an inverted rainbow above the whole thing. A most wonderful spectacle.
(seen from the deck of the Eclipse)
Tuesday June 22nd
An utterly uneventful day. We are still cooped up in the hole of water. Caught a rare & indeed undescribed medusa in the evening (Medusa Doilea Octostipata). Misery and Desolation.
Wednesday June 23d
Made our way out of our prison, by a most delicate and beautiful bit of manoeuvring under steam. We came out about 60 miles among very heavy ice, the smallest piece of which could have crushed our ships like eggshells. Often we squeezed through between floes where the ship's sides were grinding against the ice on each side. Steamed S and E. Eclipse went after a fish but never got a start. Glass falling rapidly.
Thursday June 24
Captain and I were knocked up at 6 AM by the mate's thrusting his tawny head into the cabin, singing out "A fish, sir," and disappearing up the cabin stairs like a lamplighter. When we got on deck the mate's and Peter's boats were already on the seat of action where the fish had been seen.
They caught another glimpse of it about a mile to leeward and pulled down towards it, but lost sight of it again. Meanwhile another very fine whale came up astern very near the ship and Hulton's and Rennie's boats were lowered away after it. The four boats pursued it for a couple of hours, when it began to blow extremely hard and a heavy sea arose so that some of the boats' head sheets were right under water. We had to get them onboard, and let the whale alone. Blowing a very hard gale from the North East all day, 9 Wind Force.
Friday June 25th
Wind is still very strong though not as much so as before. Nothing seen during the day but a large finner whale, which is a bad sign. It is of no use to us, and it drives the right whale away from its feeding grounds. Played Nap in the evening. Wind only a fresh breeze now, have begun to steam to the North after the Eclipse.
Saturday June 26th
Things looked dark enough all day, but suddenly took a turn for the better. Nothing had been seen all day, and I had gone down to the cabin about 10 o'clock when I heard a sort of bustle on deck. Then I heard the Captain's voice from the masthead "Lower away the two waist boats!" I rushed into the mates' berth and gave the alarm, Colin was dressed but the second mate rushed on deck in his shirt with his trousers in his hand. When I got my head above the hatchway the very first thing I saw was the whale shooting its head out of the water and gambling about at the other side of a large "sconce" piece ofice. It was a beautiful night, with hardly a ripple on the deep green water. In jumped the crews into their boats, and the officers of the watch looked that their guns were primed and ready, then they pushed off and the two long whale boats went crawling away on their wooden legs, one to one side of the bit of ice, the other to the other. Carner had hardly got up to the ice when the whale came up again about forty yards in front of the boat, throwing almost its whole body out of the water, and making the foam fly. There was a chorus of "Now, Adam – now's your chance!" from the line of eager watchers on the vessel's side. But Adam Carner, a grizzled and weather beaten harpooner, knows better. The whale's small eye is turned towards him and the boat lies as motionless as the ice behind it. But now "it has shifted, its tail is towards them – Pull, boys, pull!" Out shoots the boat from the ice – will the fish dive before he can get up to it? That is the question in every mind. He is nearing it, and it still lies motionless – nearer yet and nearer. Now he is standing up to his gun and has dropped his oar – "Three strokes, boys!" he says as he turns his quid in his cheek, and then there is a bang and a foaming of waters and a shouting, and then up goes the little red flag in Carner's boat and the whale line runs out merrily.
But the whale is far from taken because it is struck. The moment the Jack appeared in the boat there was a shout of "a fall" on board, and down went other six boats to help the "fast" boat and nail the whale on its reappearance. I got into the mate's boat and away we pulled. Of course the whale may come up anywhere within the radius of the line it has taken out, which may amount to three or four miles, so our seven boats had to spread out over a considerable area. Five minutes passed – ten – fifteen – twenty, and after being away 25 minutes the brute came up between the second mate's and Rennie's boats, who fired into her and dispatched her. She proved to be a small fish, about 40 feet long, with 4 ft 1 in of bone, worth between £200 and £300. We gave three cheers and towed her to the ship. She was covered with very large crab lice which accounted for her erratic conduct in the water. Had her flinched and stowed away by 3 o'clock AM. I went to the crow's nest during the process to lookout for another, which I didn't see. Went to bed at 6 Am and got up at 12.
Sunday June 27th
Not a thing to be seen all day, but about 4 AM Colin saw a very large fish in the distance. Eclipse lowered away 2 boats as well as we, and after getting one start they lost scent of her. She seems to have been a tremendous brute.
Monday June 28th
Nothing.
Tuesday June 29th
Master aboard the Eclipse last night until 2 AM. Lay to in a calm all day – nothing doing. Waiting for a chance of getting North, but ice looks bad. Got awayto shoot at midnight and came back at 4 PM. Got a burgy, a snowbird and five loons. These burgies I think are the biggest of gulls after the albatross. They usually are about 5 feet from tip to tip.
Wednesday June 30th
Slept nearly all day after last night's exertion. Went aboard the Eclipse and had a great talking. Worked with a microscope aboard. Buchan shot a flaw rat. Hulton skinned my birds.
Thursday and Friday July 1 & 2
Lying to in a thick fog as we have been ever since last Monday. Nothing to chronicle except that Colin got a large narwhal early on Thursday morning. It took out a whole line (120 fathoms) and made a great fuss about being killed. A unicorn is worth about £10. The skin is of considerable value. I have a very decent Arctic museum by this time including a lot of interesting things. I have at present
- 1. An Esquimeaux pair of sealskin trousers
- 2. An Iceland falcon
- 3. My sealing knife and steel
- 4. Bone of bladdernose — shot myself
- 5. 2 bones of old seals
- 6. 2 foreflippers of young bladdernose
- 7. 2 foreflippers of a ground seal
- 8. a bear's head
- 9. Bristles of a bladder
- 10. a Burgomaster
- 11. Drums of whale's ears
- 12. 2 King Eider ducks
- 13. Bits of lava found in King Eider duck.
- 14. (?) a Unicorn's horn
Added : 2 Esquimeaux pouches, a Kittiwake, a bear's claw.
Saturday July 3rd
It has cleared up and we are off to the happy hunting grounds. Sailed Nor' and Nor'West all day. Saw nothing but an extraordinarily small seal on the ice, about the size of a rabbit. It seemed as much amused at the appearance of the ship as we were at it. We are all despairing. The Stewart stuffed my ground seal's flippers very nicely with sawdust.
Sunday July 4th
Sailed North and then South again. Everything looks bleak and discouraging. No trace of whales or even of whale's food. A bladdernose was seen on the ice. A small bird something like a starling or thrush was flying round the ship. Saw a puffin. Have no heart to write much in the log. Reading Motley's "Rise of the Dutch Republic," a very fine history.
Monday July 5th
Steamed into a flaw water, made fast in the evening. Saw several finner whales. Eclipse mistook one for a fish and lowered away his boats, which however were promptly recalled. Nothing else of interest seen during the day. Got some delicious fresh water off the salt water ice.
Tuesday July 6th
Dead calm. Sun beating down in a tropical manner though the temperature was only 36°. Tremendous glare from the ice flaws. Went aboard Eclipse in morning. Got away to shoot and nailed altogether 7 loons, a roach, a kittiwake, a snowbird, and a flaw rat. We had great fun securing the latter as our small shot did not suffice to kill it, and after a chase of at least half an hour, we harpooned it with boathooks when swimming under the water. We brought it aboard alive but the Captain humanely put it out of its misery. Got away again at night but found no game. A couple of Sea Swallows played round the ship. Saw several finners. A very jolly day!
Wednesday July 7th
Steamed 20 or 30 miles South, and then on seeing indications of fish made sail. Captain David came aboard in the evening with his Engineer, and caught a rare shrimp. Feel very much the better for yesterday's outing. Cooked Red Herrings for supper in a very scientific manner.
Thursday July 8th
Another memorable day. Sailed along the edge of a great flaw among very blue water with the Eclipse ahead of us. About 1 o'clock a whale, the first seen since Sunday week, came up close to Captain David's ship; he lowered away three boats after it and chased it until 4:15 PM when he succeeded in getting fast, and had her alongside by8 PM and flinched by midnight. We dodged about hoping his fish would come in our direction when we would have been justified in securing it, but about 4 o'clock the welcome shout came from the masthead "there's another fish on the lee bow, sir!" Mathieson and Bob Cane lowered away after it, and were soon lost sight of among the ice, while we crowded along the side of the deck and waited. Then a groan went up as a large finner whale rose near the ship, for finners and "right" whales are deadly enemies, and we were afraid our quarry would be scared. I went down to the cabin to sooth my disappointment with a smoke, when I heard the Captain yell "A fall! A fall!" from the masthead, which is the signal that the fish is struck. Up we tumbled many of the men only half dressed, and away went five long green whaleboats to the support of the "fast" boat and its companion. I got into Peter McKenzie's boat. We had hardly got clear of the ship's side when the boatsteerer announced that the fish was up, and was lashing out, fin and tail. Then we knew our work was cut out for us, for when a fish stays a very short time under water after being struck, it is reserving all its strength for a struggle with the boats. If the whale goes down and stays away half an hour it is generally so exhausted on returning to the surface that it falls an easy prey. The boats pulled up and Hulton and Carner fired into her and got fast. We were the next boat up and pulled on to fishes head, where we lanced her deep in the neck. She gave a sort of shudder and started off at a great rate along the surface. Buchan pulled his boat on to her head as she advanced, by which senseless manoeuvre the prow of the boat was tilted up in the air, and finally the whole boat landed on the animal's back amid a shouting of men & snapping of oars and Buchan roaring "Pull! Sweep! Back! Hold water! Pull! What the devil are you feared at!" I said to Peter "Stand by to pick them up!" but they managed to shove the boat off without accident. The beast now made for a flaw and got beneath it, but soon reappeared when both Buchan and Rennie fired into her. She went under again, but once more reappeared right among our three boats and then the fun began. We pulled on to her and in went our lances for five feet or so, the three boats tried to keep well at the side of her while she was always slewing around to bring her formidable tail to bear upon us. She nearly had our boat over once by coming up underneath it, but we managed to get it righted. Then we stood off from her while she went into her dying flurry, whipping the water into a foam, and then she slowly turned up on her back and died. We stood up in our boats and gave three hearty cheers. We towed her up to the ship and by 1 PM had her aboard. She was a fine fish, each lamina of whale bone being 9 foot 6 inches, yielding about 12 tons of oil. It is worth quite £1000 and has secured our voyage from being a failure. A large and very ugly shark came up and superintended the process of flinching the fish in spite of numerous knives passed through its body. I asked the Captain to let the Stewart and me go off in a boat and harpoon it, but he refused.
July 8th 1880.
Friday July 9th
Nothing doing. Everybody in a state of reaction after yesterday's capture. The Captain says that Bob Cane managed the affair very well. Several finner whales were seen during the day. Beautiful sunshine.
It is a curious fact that the last whale the Eclipse captured only had one eye, and our friend of yesterday was also restricted to the same meagre allowance. The socket was perfectly empty. It may be that there is a breed of one-eyed Greenland whales.
Saturday July 10
We have made a mistake, I think, in heading North again. The South seems to me a greasier locality. Had the boat away after a bladder which we did not get. Played Euchre four hours in the evening in the engine room. Query Who did Adam & Eve's children marry?
Sunday July 11
Got up late, and would have liked to have got up later, which is a sad moral state to be in. Eclipse got a bladder in the morning. Steamed to the Eastward with the Eclipse in the evening, by which proceeding we scared a whale. Saw many finners. About seven PM a steamer was reported about 20 miles to the Eastward. This is the first ship we have seen since the beginning of May. We steamed out and soon recognized it as the new discovery yacht of Leigh Smith's, the Eira. He is going to try for the Pole if the ice is favourable, which it isn't, and in any case to explore Franz Joseph Land and shoot deer. He is a private gentleman, a bachelor with £8000 a year, and has taken Spitzbergen to himself as a wife. When our ships came up we saluted the little Eira with ensigns and three cheers, which they returned. His men are in naval reserve uniform, officers in gold lace. The Captain went aboard her, while their doctor, Neale, the photographer, the engineer and 2 mates all boarded us. The Captain came back about 1 PM and he and I with the Eira's photographer & doctor made a night of it on champagne and sherry. We had tinned salmon at 5 AM and turned in at 6.30.
Monday July 12
Anchored to a flaw with the Eclipse and Eira. Unshipped our rudder which was damaged by ice. By the way we got our home news up to June 18th from the Eira. Got no letter from Edinburgh, but a very cheerful and pleasant one from Lottie. Surprised to hear that the Liberals have got in, disgusted also. Invited aboard Eclipse to meet Leigh Smith and gang at dinner. Had mock turtle soup, fresh roast beef with potatoes, French beans and sauce, arrowroot pudding and pancakes with preserves, winding up on wine & cigars. A very respectable whaler's feed. Went aboard Eira afterwards. She is beautifully fitted up aft. Had more cigars and champagne. Got aboard at 12, after being photographed in a group. They came up by Jan Mayen and saw millions of bladdernoses in the 72.30, I hope we may come down for them.
Tuesday July 13
Steamed 20 miles South and stopped short, I don't know why. I fancy we might fill our ship now if we went straight down for those bladders, but we must go at once. We are vacillating here too much, I think, however it is for the Captain to decide. The success of our voyage depends on these few days, it's our last chance of making a hit. Eclipse chased a bear and killed it in the water close to our ship. Left the Eira in the morning wishing them all success. A pleasant ship and a pleasant crew. She is black with a line of gold, about 200 tons burden, and 50 horsepower engines. I think I should like to be going out in her, although the prospect of seeing home again is pleasant. They left their letters with us.166 Fog in the evening.
Wednesday July 14
Steamed and sailed South and Sou'West. Eclipse had their boats away in the evening, but it was only a finner which they mistook for a right whale. Foggy nearly all day. No news of any sort. Read our papers all day.
Thursday July 15
Another uneventful day. Lounged about & smoked. Absolutely nothing to do. Very thick and foggy and all that is reprehensible. Saw a small scene of Goethe's 'Faust' which I am reading which I think is as vivid and weird as anything I ever read, far more gruesome than Shakespeare's witches.
- Night – An open Plain
- Faust, Mephistopheles rushing past on black horses
- Faust – What are these hovering round the Ravenstone?
- Meph – I know not what they're shaping & preparing.
- Faust – They wave up – wave down. They bend – they stoop.
- Meph – A band of witches.
- Faust – They sprinkle and charm.
- Meph – On! On!
That is very awful, I think.
Friday July 16
Still foggy. Eclipse had four boats away during the night, but without success. We do not know yet if he really saw a fish. Boarded him in the evening and learned that it most certainly was a fish, and that they very nearly secured her. They got near enough to touch her with a boathook as she swam under water. Captain David still seems to be very sanguine. Some of our stores are running short, we got some potatoes however from the Eira. Stayed till 2 AM on the Eclipse. Got some more papers. Many seals seen during the day in the water.
Saturday July 17
Absolutely nothing to do or to be done. It has been thick fog now for nearly a week. Steamed about 20 miles S and E. Captain David came aboard at night. We intend now to try the Liverpool Coast right down in west Greenland near the land Lat 73 N. Many heavy fish have been taken there late in the season by Capt David, notably in '69 when he took 12, striking the first on the 16th of July, and the last on the 4th of August. I remember I used to think that when a whaler saw a whale they always got it, as a matter of fact the average is about one fish in 20 attempts.
Sunday July 18
A little clearer today, not very much. Strong SSW breeze changing to a gale in the evening. Blew very hard all day, and all night. Dodged about under the lea of ice flaws to escape its fury. I wonder if Leigh Smith's vessel is caught in it. By the way I was photographed among a distinguished group on the quarterdeck of her, but as I was smoking a cigar during the operation I am afraid I'll be rather misty.
Monday July 19
Blowing a gale all day. Nothing to do and we did it.
Tuesday July 20
Cleared up a little and we did a good day's work steaming among great icefields about 40 miles S & W. If it keeps clear we may do something yet. There is an enormous accumulation of ice this year round the land, more than has ever been seen. We are 240 miles from it now, and the fields are almost continuous. I'm afraid we won't get in.
Wednesday July 21
Thick again, this fog is paralyzing. We are groping in the dark. Anchored to a flaw in the evening and the Captain and I went aboard the Eclipse.
Had Nox Ambrosiana from 8 to 2 AM. The Late Mr. Procter. Captain David tells me of a fish he captured which had a lump the size and shape of a beehive on the fluke of its tail. He entered into a critical analysis of Goethe's Faust, comparing it with some of Shakespeare's plays, and showing where the former borrowed from the latter, so we are not altogether barbarous up here.
Thursday July 22
Still foggy and we continue anchored to the flaw. In the half decks in the morning discussing the loss of the Atalanta. Saw 2 "boatswains," very rare birds, at a considerable distance over the flaw, and was going to hunt them but they absconded. Got a shot at a flaw rat's head about 50 yards off in the water, and blew it clean off with a rifle ball. Unfortunately the body sank.
Friday July 23
Steamed S and SW as it became clearer. Continued to ply under sail all night in the same direction among very heavy ice fields. Wind coming round to the Westward.
Saturday July 24th
Steamed SW again all day. Went through some ice that would have made Sir George Nares and the whole Arctic Committee turnup the whites of their eyes. Looking back, it seemed solid as far as the horizon, and you could hardly conceive that two ships had wormed their way through it. We have one or two faint hearted ones aboard who have the terrors; it is not the going in it as the going out again, they say, and we only have a fortnight's provisions left. If we got beset we should certainly have to go on uncommon short commons. We are leaving 200 miles of heavy ice between us and the sea.
Sunday July 25
A very clear day with occasional fogs. Steamed 40 miles West. Made sail in the evening. Saw a great number of 'boatswains.' We have been exulting rather during the last few days as we have been getting into Westward very well, but our way seems to be barred now by an immense chain of flaws, which we hope to circumvent.
Monday July 26
Sailed West and South West. Made our longitude 6¼° W, and our latitude 73.56 N. Captain went aboard Eclipse in evening. Water swarming with food, but no animal life to be seen save 9 maulies and a school of Phoca Vitulina. Wrote a POM, about a Meerschaum Pipe
- It lies within its leather case
- As it has lain in years gone bye,
- Trusty friends and comrades true,
- Are that old meerschaum pipe and I.
- For it was young when I was young
- And many a jovial reckless night,
- We students drank, and smoked and sang,
- While yet my meerschaum pipe was young white.
- And it was hardly brown before,
- From home and friends I first did part,
- But bound for Russia's hostile shore,
- I bore my meerschaum next my heart.
- And there upon the bloodstained ground,
- Where many came and few went back,
- With death and pestilence around
- Twas there I smoked my meerschaum black.
- And when the day our Colonel died,
- We charged and took the Malakoff,
- A Russian bullet grazed my side,
- And shot my meerschaum's amber off.
- But I am grizzled now and bent,
- Death's sickles near – His crop is ripe,
- I fear him not but wait content,
- I wait and smoke my meerschaum pipe
- : ACD.
Tuesday July 27
Plying under sail about SSW. Latitude at noon gave us 73.29 N. A large finner whale, the first we have seen for some time, came up below the quarter boats. It seems to be a disputed point whether they are a good or a bad sign, the majority affect the latter opinion, but Captain David Gray throws his very weighty verdict on the minority. From my own experience I should say that the presence of finners is not by any means a bad sign.
Blew a fresh breeze in the evening, ice moving at a great rate. Spent some time in the halfdeck. Erik built a house as a depot in Davis Straits. On returning one season they found a polar bear lying asleep in one of the beds on the top of the blankets. Reading Maury's "Physical Geography of the Sea." He explains the weed of the Sargasso Sea (in the triangle between Cape de Verdes, Azores and Canaries) by saying it is the centre of the whirl of the Gulf Stream, as when you whirl the water in a basin, you find floating corks at centre. He also remarks that railway trains always run off the line to the right hand side whether going North or South.
Wednesday July 28
Another disagreeable day. Blowing hard from the South East, which is about the worst possible direction. This is the longest interval we have ever had. The ship has not drawn blood since July 8th, except a flaw rat I shot. Blew from Eastward in the evening. As thick as pea soup and ice closing upon us rapidly. We have hopes that there is the open sea to the South of us from the fact that seals are coming through from the South. I thought too there was a swell from the same direction, which would settle the question.
A very anxious and disagreeable night for us all, blowing hard, thick fog and ice everywhere. Captain and I could not turn in till 4 AM.
Thursday July 29
Horrible contemptible pusillanimous thickness over all. Made fast to a flaw, and waited for better days. Went on a journey over the ice, accompanied by our Newfoundland Sampson. Were out of sight of the ships and had great fun. Came across a most extraordinary natural snow house, about 12 feet high, shaped like a beehive with a door and a fine room inside in which I sat. Travelled a considerable distance, and would have gone to the Pole, but my matches ran short and I couldn't get a smoke. Got a long shot at a boat swain but missed him. Steamed SE when it cleared, but as it grew thick again we had to anchor once more. Eclipse shot at a bladder but missed it. Got a curious fungus on the ice. Gin and tobacco at night.
Friday July 30
Suffered for the gin and tobacco. A most lovely day 72.52 N. Jan Mayen bearing SW about 100 miles and not visible. Steaming SSE at 6 knots. Took no dinner but went to the masthead in preference, enjoying a pipe and the welcome sunshine. Fell in with one or two small bladdernose seals of which we shot two, one fell to my rifle, the other was the object of the worst exhibition of shooting I ever had the misfortune to witness. I fired my only cartridge at a long range and missed, where upon two harpooners took the job in hand, and fired 3 shots each, or 7 shots in all before the unfortunate seal dropped its head.
Saturday July 31st
Out in the open sea pitching and tossing like Billy and with her head WSW bound for the Bottlenose Bank. It is very problematical whether we will get any of the creatures, as I suppose they shift their ground like all other animals in these regions, and because Captain David got them there in April is no reason why we should see them again in August. No ice in sight. I shall never again see the great Greenland floes, never again see the land where I have smoked so many pensive pipes, where I have pursued the wily cetacean, and shot the malignant bladdernose. Who says thou art cold and inhospitable, my poor icefields? I have known you in calm and in storm and I say you are genial and kindly. There is a quaint grim humour in your bobbing bergs with their fantastic shapes. Your floes are virgin and pure even when engaged in the unsolicited 'Nip.' Yes, thou art virgin, and drawest but too often the modest veil of Fog over thy charms.
I can apostrophize the icefields, but hang the word will I say in favour of Spitzbergen, the Jotunheim of the Scandinavian mythology which I saw in a gale and left in a gale, a barren rugged upheaval of a place. Sailed West and Sou'West all day. It fell calm in the evening and we lay in a long rolling swell, our sails flapping and a thick mist around.
Eclipse out of sight – has probably been steaming in the fog all night. Steamed Wand SW through calm water and thick mist. We hope we may find bottlenose whales about 80 miles SE of Jan Mayen, and from there to Langaness in Iceland. Keeping up our spirits. Saw some driftwood today. Hove a bottle overboard in the evening with our longitude and latitude and a request to publish where it was picked up. Bottlenose fishing has never as yet been at all developed, several ships have tried it in a half hearted way and failed. The Jan Mayen got 9 in 6 weeks which did not pay them, Captain David this year got 32 in a month which did pay him. Fell in with very greasy water tonight, with a strong smell of herrings and swarming with clios, I caught about 100 of the shelled variety. One would think the bottlenoses would be near such tempting grub. Heard a finner whale blowing away in the mist like an empty beer barrel. Lat 70.59. Long 0°15 E. Passed 2 dead maulies and another bit of driftwood from Siberia. Several more finners seen.
Monday August 2nd
Sea calm and hardly any wind. The top of Mount Beerenberg is in sight, bearing WNW about 80 miles Saw several puffins, sea swallows and eider ducks, birds only seen in the vicinity of land. About two o'clock four bottlenose whales, two old and two young, came in sight and two boats were lowered away in pursuit. They made straight for Cane's boat but when within shot they dived, and though we pursued them two hours we never got another chance. About 5 o'clock two more came up and Colin was sent after them but they disappeared. The Eclipse is in sight and had his boats' away also without success. They are funny looking brutes in the water, with high dorsal fins like finner whales. They are worth about £60 each. Quite warm now, have all our flannels off.
Tuesday August 3d
Things don't look as well this morning as there is more wind and not so many birds or food in the water. Sailing Westward. Nothing seen during the day.
Wednesday August 4th
Came into better ground this morning, there being very many birds and much grease on the water. Watched the Bosun gulls, who are very bad fishers, chasing the poor old kittiwakes until they disgorged their last meal, which the bullies devour in its semidigested condition. Sea was swarming with cetaceans about noon which we lowered away 2 boats for thinking they were bottlenoses, but they proved to be young finner whales, worthless brutes and so powerful that they would run out all our lines, so the boats were recalled. Captain shot a "boatswain." Saw many Eider ducks. Several swordfish also seen. One of them was chasing a finner whale round the Eclipse. The poor brute was springing right out of the water and making an awful bobbery. Carner put a rifle bullet into one young one about 40 feet long, which went away in a great hurry to tell its ma what they had been doing to it. This sea from Jan Mayen to Iceland might be called the Feather Sea. The surface is literally covered with feathers in many parts. The bottle nosing is an awful spree.
Was called up about 11 PM by the Captain to see a marvelous sight. Never hope to see anything like it again. The sea was simply alive with great hunchback whales, rather a rare variety, you could have thrown a biscuit onto 200 of them, and as far as you could see there was nothing but spoutings and great tails in the air. Some were blowing under the bowsprit, sending the water on to the forecastle, and exciting our Newfoundland tremendously. They are 60-80 feet long, and have extraordinary heads with a hanging pouch like a toad's from their under jaw. They yield about 3 tons of very inferior oil, and are hard to capture, so that they are not worth pursuing. We lowered away a boat and fired an old loose harpoon into one which went away with a great splash. They differ from finner whales in being white under fins and tail. Some of them gave a peculiar whistle when they blew, which you could hear a couple of miles off.
Thursday August 5th
Nothing seen today. A stiff breeze arose towards evening and pitched and tossed us about confoundedly. We think the Eclipse has gone home. Steering SW.
Friday August 6th
Gave it up as a bad job and turned our head ESE for Shetland. Dense fog and rain with very little wind. Utterly beastly weather. We are all dejected at having to turn home with so scanty a cargo, but what can we do? We've ransacked the country and taken all we could get, but this is an exceptionally unfavourable year owing to the severity of last winter which has extended the Greenland ice far to the Eastward, and locked the fishes' feeding ground inside an impenetrable barrier. Here is our whole game bag for the season according to my reckoning.
- 2 Greenland whales
- 2400 young seals
- 1200 old seals
- 5 polar bears
- 2 Narwhals
- 12 Bladdernoses
- 3 Flaw rats
- 1 Iceland Falcon
- 2 Ground Seals
- 2 King Eider ducks
- 2 Eider ducks
- 1 Boatswain
- 7 Roaches
- 23 Loons
- 1 Burgomaster
- 8 Snowbirds
- 3 Kittiwakes.
Saturday August 7th
Groping homeward under steam and sail in such a thick fog that we can hardly see the water from the side of the ship. Took in the two funnel boats. We have not got our reckoning now for several days, and as we have been dodging about zigzag after these bottlenoses, our dead reckoning is very uncertain. It isn't nice to be steaming along in the North sea in a fog with Iceland and the Faeroe Islands knocking about in front of us. Several puffins and other land birds seen.
Sunday August 8th
Cleared up a little although it was raining nearly all day. Had a mackerel line over all evening but got nothing. Sighted land about 8 PM which proved to be the north end of Faeroe island. A nice job if we had come on it in the dark. Saw a schooner running North about midnight, probably bound for Iceland from Denmark. Men busy drying our whale lines.
Monday August 9th
A beautiful clear day with a blue sky and a bright sun. Wind from the NE, a good strong breeze before which we are flying homeward with all sail set, and the bright green waves hissing and foaming from her bows. No mackerel again. Ship all covered with whale lines drying. Expect to make the land late tonight. Saw a Solan Goose and a little bird called a Stienchuck, also some stormy petrels. The kittiwakes down here are a smaller breed, I think, than those further north. All hands on the lookout for land.
Sunday August 10th
Up at 8 AM to see the land bearing WSW on the starboard bow. Halfa gale blowing and the old Hope steaming away into a head sea like Billy. Hence the feebleness of my handwriting. The green grass onshore looks very cool and refreshing to me after nearly 6 months never seeing it, but the houses look revolting. I hate the vulgar hum of men and would like to be back at the floes again.
- "There is society where none intrudes
- Upon the sea, and music in its roar!"
Passed the skerry light, and came down to Lerwick but did not get into the harbour as we are in a hurry to catch the tide at Peterhead, so there goes all my letters, papers and everything else. A girl was seen at the lighthouse waving a handkerchief, and all hands were called to look at her. The first woman we have seen for half a year. Our Shetland crew were landed in four of our boats and gave 3 cheers for the old ship as they pushed off, which were returned by the men left. Lighthouse keeper came off with last week's weekly Scotsman by which we learn of the defeat in Afghanistan. Terrible news. Also, that the Victor has 150 tons the dirty skunk. Took our boats aboard and went off for Peterhead full pelt. Fitful head, and Sumburgh light twinkling away astern like a star. Herring fishing seems to be a success. Saw a large grampus.
Wednesday August 11th
Dead calm and the sun awfully awful. Saw Rattray head at 4 PM. The sea black with fishing boats. Hurrah for home! Pilot boat came off at 6 PM and we lay off for high water at 4 in the morning. Hundreds and hundreds of herring boats around us. Crew getting on their shore togs. Well, here we are at the end of the log of the Hope, which has been kept through calm and through storm, through failure and success; every day I have religiously jotted down my impressions and anything that struck me as curious, and have tried to draw what I have seen. So here's an
End of the log of the SS Hope.
Our Illustrations
- Fresh Meat
- Freemason's Flag
- Ramna Stacks
- A Peterhead Whaler
- Sealing Costume
- The Hope among loose ice
- A family of Seals
- Seal Knife
- Bear's Footmark
- Ships among the Seals
- Seal Club
- Sketches at Young Sealing
- Milne's Funeral
- Our Hawk
- Saturday's night at sea
- A Snap Shot
- Our Evening Exercise
- All Hands over the bows
- Plan of Seal fishing
- Effects of refraction
- Five Bulls at 100 Yards
Vol II.
- Old Sealing
- Making off Seal's blubber
- Not sold but given away
- Poking the mob boat
- Harpoon Gun
- Hope off Spitzbergen in a gale
- The Bear we did not shoot
- Greenland Sword fish
- The Lesser Auk (loon)
- Swordfish chasing Seals
- A Capture
- John Thomas & his friend
- Towing the Narwhal home
- A Narwhal
- Maulie stealing our Roach
Vol III.
- Capture by Eclipse's boats
- Our bear
- Bear and Shark devouring Narwhal
- Boats after 2 fish
- Our First Fish
- Whale and 2 fast boats
- Buchan's Boat
- Ship flinching a whale (Capt J Gray)
- do do do (Capt David Gray)
- A Right and Left among Loons
- Natural Ice House
- Bottle Nose Whale
- Hope among Cetaceans
- Hunchback Whales
- Sampson and the Fish
Game Bag of the Hope (continued)
| July | 1 | 1 Narwhal |
| 2 | ||
| 3 | ||
| 4 | ||
| 5 | ||
| 6 | 1 Flaw Rat 7 Loons 1 Roach 1 Kittiwake 2 Snowbirds | |
| 7 | ||
| 8 | a Greenland Whale | |
| 9 | ||
| 10 | ||
| 11 | ||
| 12 | ||
| 13 | ||
| 14 | ||
| 15 | ||
| 16 | ||
| 17 | ||
| 18 | ||
| 19 | ||
| 20 | ||
| 21 | ||
| 22 | ||
| 23 | ||
| 24 | ||
| 25 | ||
| 26 | ||
| 27 | ||
| 28 | ||
| 29 | ||
| 30 | ||
| 31 | 2 Bladdernose seals | |
| August | 1 | |
| 2 | ||
| 3 | ||
| 4 | a Boatswain | |
| 5 | 2 Eider ducks |
My Own Gamebag
| Young Seals and Young Bladders | xxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx |
| Old Seals | xxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxx |
| Bladdernoses | xxx |
| Loons | xxxxxxxxxx |
| Roaches | xxx |
| Maulies | x |
| Snowbirds | xx |
| Kittiwakes | xxxx |
| Flaw Rats | xx |
- ↑ Correct French spelling: "Ce n'est que le dernier pas qui compte." (It is the last step that counts).
