Arctic exploration

It is not necessary to concern ourselves much with Captain Lyon’s subsidiary voyage of 1824. His instructions were to proceed to Repulse Bay in the Hecla, and to explore the isthmus which connects Melville Peninsula with the mainland and the coast beyond it. For reasons best known to himself, however, he tried to reach the bay by sailing round the south and up the west coasts of Southampton Island, instead of taking the shorter route along the north of the island, which Parry had always adopted. The result was that his expedition was very nearly lost, and he was obliged to return home before he had even reached the bay.

Nor is it necessary for us to follow Captain Beechey and the Blossom to Kotzebue Sound, where, it was hoped, they would meet Franklin and his party. He spent part of his time in cruising as far as Icy Cape, while the barge, which he sent forward under Mr Elson to search for Franklin and his party, explored the coast as far as Barrow Point—only 146 miles from Franklin’s furthest point. Otherwise, however, nothing occurred that is worthy of note.

Passing over these, we now come to Parry’s last and, in some ways, his greatest voyage, a voyage which opened up a new epoch in Arctic exploration. He returned from his third journey in search of the North-West Passage in October 1825, and in the spring of 1826 he suggested to Lord Melville, then First Lord of the Admiralty, a plan for reaching the North Pole by means of sledge-boats, which should travel either over the ice or through any spaces of open water which might intervene. The idea, it should be said, had actually originated with Franklin, who had proposed the journey some years before, and had offered to take command of it himself. As, however, he was now away on his second journey through North America, Parry’s services were retained for the expedition, which found complete favour in the eyes of the Admiralty. He was, in consequence, commissioned to the Hecla on November 11, 1826.

In order to make the objective of the journey perfectly clear, it will be best to quote a passage from the official instructions: “On your arrival at the northern shores of Spitzbergen,” they ran, “you will fix upon some harbour or cove, in which the Hecla may be placed, and, having properly secured her, you are then to proceed with the boats, whose requirements have, under your own directions, been furnished expressly for the service, directly to the northward, and use your best endeavours to reach the North Pole; and, having made such observations as are specified in your instructions for your former voyages in the northern regions, and such as will be pointed out to you by the Council of the Royal Society, added to those which your own experience will suggest, you will be careful to return to Spitzbergen before the winter sets in, and at such a period of the autumn as will ensure the vessels you command not being frozen up and thus obliged to winter there.”

The sledge-boats alluded to were of a somewhat peculiar construction, and were, on the whole, very well adapted for the purpose for which they were intended. They were flat-bottomed, and measured 20 feet long and, at their greatest beam, 7 feet broad. On a frame of ash and hickory was stretched a sheet of mackintosh waterproofing coated with tar. Outside this were placed first a layer of thin fir planking, then a sheet of stout felt, and lastly a thin planking of oak. A strong runner shod with steel was attached on either side of the keel, while to the forepart of the runner was fixed a span of hide-rope to be used for dragging the boat over the ice. The equipment also included a light bamboo mast, 19 feet long, a tanned duck sail, which could also serve the purpose of an awning, a spreat, a boat-hook, fourteen paddles, and a steer-oar.

The expedition sailed on April 4, 1827, and on the 17th the Hecla was off Hammerfest, a port on the Island of Soroe, off the Lapland coast. Here she was to call for a number of tame reindeer which would, it was hoped, be useful for pulling the boats along the ice. As matters turned out, however, their services were not required. By the middle of May they had reached Spitzbergen, and a month was now spent in trying to find a suitable harbourage for the Hecla. Most of the bays that they passed were so encumbered with ice that it was quite impossible to reach them; but at last, on the north coast of West Spitzbergen, they came upon a deep indentation named Treurenburg Bay, which suited their purpose admirably. Here, then, they made the Hecla fast and prepared to start on their journey towards the North Pole.

The boats were loaded with provisions for seventy-one days, and on the afternoon of June 21 they began their voyage. It had been decided to leave the reindeer behind as the ice, as seen from the crow’s-nest, was so rough and hummocky that they could be of no use whatever. The weather was fine and clear, the boats proved to be thoroughly seaworthy, and in due time they passed Little Table Island, the last piece of land which they would see for some weeks.

So long as they were travelling over the open sea their progress was easy enough, and it was only when they reached the ice that their difficulties began. They had expected the first part of their trip to be arduous, and they were certainly not disappointed, for they found that their road lay over small, rugged floes of ice, separated from one another by pools of water. Each of these pools had to be crossed three or four times, as it was always necessary to unload the boats on taking them out of the water, and then, after dragging them with infinite labour through chasms and up and down great hummocks of ice, the men had to return to the point from which they set out for their clothes and food. Consequently their progress was exceedingly slow and tedious, and on the first day’s journey they only made two and a half miles of northing.

Parry had decided to travel entirely by night, and this for various reasons. There is, of course, no darkness at all during an Arctic summer, but the sun was less powerful in the night, and the snow in consequence was firmer, while the glare, which by day was so strong as to produce inflammation of the eyes, was less oppressive. Furthermore, by sleeping during the warmer hours, it was possible for them to dry their working clothes, which were generally wet through from floundering about in pools of water.

They had hoped that when they were once through this preliminary field of broken ice they would reach a level sheet, over which they might travel with comparative ease, but, as time went on, the conditions seemed to become worse instead of better, for on the morning of the 26th rain began to fall heavily, with the result that the explorers were soon wet through, and nearly half the surface of the ice over which they had to travel was covered with little pools. From that time rain was almost constant, and Parry was the first to observe that the climate of these remoter Polar regions is actually milder than those of the northern shores of America, 7° to 15° further south.

The rain was often varied by fog, while, to add to the difficulties of the journey, they found that much of the surface ice over which they had to travel was composed of needle-like crystals, placed vertically, which, as the season advanced, afforded very poor foothold and cut their boots and feet.

One day was very like another on that most difficult journey. The party was usually aroused at about eight o’clock in the evening by a lusty tar blowing a reveille on a bugle. After prayers had been read, the men exchanged their fur sleeping suits for their walking clothes, which were, as a rule, still soaking wet or else frozen solid. This done, they would breakfast on cocoa and biscuits, and, having loaded the sledges, they would set about the day’s work. Their course underwent a good deal of variety, but it was never anything but arduous. Sometimes they had to haul the boat by main force over almost perpendicular blocks of ice. Sometimes they had to toil through snowy sludge, into which they sank so deeply that on one occasion it took them two hours to travel a hundred yards. Sometimes the pools and channels which separated the ice blocks from one another were not more than half a boat’s length broad, and the provisions had to be ferried over on blocks of ice, a most anxious proceeding, seeing that if an accident had occurred the whole party would have been left to starve.

After anything between five and ten hours’ work, during which they would make four or five miles, they would halt for the night, or, to speak more accurately, for the day, and, having changed into dry clothes, they would set about the necessary repairs, take supper, and retire to bed.

As they proceeded northward their progress seemed to become slower and slower. Parry had long since given up all hope of reaching the North Pole, but he had made up his mind, if possible, to touch the 83rd parallel, and thus to win the £1000 reward offered by the Government, but he was not prepared for the terrible disappointment with which he met at the end of July. On the 20th he ascertained by observation that his latitude was only 82° 36´, or less than five miles to the northward of his situation at noon on the 17th, although he was positive that they had travelled at least twelve miles. During the next few days the result of the observations was always the same, and he invariably found himself several miles south of the point to which he believed the previous day’s journey had brought him. He was therefore forced to the conclusion that the ice over which he was travelling was drifting steadily southward, and that he was losing during the day much of the ground that he had made during the night. So, after reaching lat. 82° 45´, a point which had never been attained before, and stood as a record for forty-five years, he decided to turn back. He was now only 172 miles from the Hecla, and of these 100 miles represented the journey over the water before reaching the ice. But as most of the 72 miles over the ice had been covered at least three, and sometimes five, times, the distance that they had travelled was about 580 geographical or 688 statute miles, almost exactly the distance from the Hecla to the Pole in a direct line.

The return journey was begun on July 27, and on August 21 they reached the Hecla without meeting with any contretemps. They set sail for home on August 28, and on September 29 Parry went to report himself at the Admiralty, where, curiously enough, he met Franklin, who had returned from his North American journey on exactly the same day.

Parry was received with enthusiasm wherever he went, and honours were showered on him in England and on the Continent. But from that point he leaves our narrative, for he never again sailed for the Polar seas.