On the 10th of October we approached the principal
harbour of South Georgia, which I had no intention to enter unless
there was an appearance of an unusual abundance of seal on the coast.
When near the harbour we discovered two ships lying there with their
topmasts struck. This was evidence that there was no chance for us in
that quarter. I now told my officers and people that I thought it
useless to contend with those already in possession of the island for
the few seal it could afford, and thought it most advisable to proceed
in search of Sandwich land; where, no doubt, we could speedily obtain a
full cargo of skins, if we could find it, of [38]which I
expressed great confidence. I strengthened their hopes by assuring them
that there was no doubt in my mind of the existence of extensive bodies
of land within the antarctic circle, which quarter had scarcely been
looked into by Christian navigators, and that my opinion was founded
upon the fact that Cook, and other navigators, had seen large bodies of
ice in latitude 70° to 71° south. This fact, I said, indicated
the existence of land, because ice could not form in a deep salt sea
uninterrupted by land, and agitated by the violent winds and currents
of the polar region. I urged that we had but to persevere in our
researches in high southern latitudes, to make sure of finding land,
which would yield us ample fortunes, for all southern islands, when
first discovered, were found to abound in seal. Mr. Slim, the third
mate, expressed some apprehension, that great danger might be
encountered in high southern latitudes; that if we found land, the ice
might close upon us and prevent our return to our country, as it once
served a colony in Greenland. I was not much pleased with this. I have
no patience with an officer who suggests doubts [39]and
difficulties when I have a grand project in view. I marked him, but at
the same time pretended to listen to his observations, as objections of
great weight, and then proceeded to remove them from the minds of the
officers and people, by advancing the following reasons for my belief
that the supposition of extreme cold at the pole was altogether
gratuitous.
1st. We know that the rays of the sun, uninfluenced by
the atmosphere, would rest upon the pole for six successive months.
2d. That a dense medium refracts, or bends the rays of
the sun.
3d. That the amount of that refraction depends upon the
extent of the dense medium through which it has to pass.
4th. That at the pole, the rays of the sun coming to it
in a very oblique direction, must necessarily pass through our
atmosphere a greater distance than on any other part of this globe, and
consequently must there be refracted in a greater degree than
elsewhere. Hence I inferred, that in consequence of this refraction,
and of its increase in proportion to the obliquity of the direction of
the rays, the sun when in the [40]plane of the equator, must appear to
an observer at the poles to be some degrees above the horizon, and that
the sun must recede to the north of the equator at least five or six
degrees of declination, before it would become invisible at the south
pole: therefore, as it takes fifteen days to increase the sun’s
declination five degrees, it must be visible at the poles one month
longer, on account of the refraction, than it would be without it. This
conclusion is corroborated by the testimony of Barentz, a Dutchman, who
wintered in Nova Zembla. He found the sun to rise, in latitude 76°,
fifteen days sooner than was expected by astronomical calculations.
This will give the polar region seven months constant sunshine; think
of that, my shipmates, said I, seven months constant day, with a
continual stream of light and heat pouring upon the same spot, without
any interval of night to cool the earth and air. I think if we can but
find our way to the polar region, we shall be in much more danger of
being roasted alive, than of being frozen to death. But, my lads, what
Yankee sailor would hesitate to expose himself to be roasted or frozen
[41]alive to accomplish that which the British tars
have endeavoured in vain to do? Three hearty cheers put an end to the
debate. We bore up for Sandwich land, not that I had any belief
in the existence of any such land, for I had always been of
opinion, that the English placed this supposed land on their charts as
an English discovery, stretching it along from the polar seas to
latitude 57° south, that they might, whenever any land should be
discovered in that unexplored quarter, have a pretence for laying claim
to it as a British discovery.
We had a fine gale from the S. W., and made rapid
progress to the S. E. under canvass. Although the most perfect
satisfaction with the course I had determined on appeared to prevail
throughout the ship’s company, Mr. Slim came to me in my cabin,
when relieved from his watch on deck, and told me, that, however
satisfactory my account of the matter might have been to the other
officers and the crew, it was not satisfactory to his mind; and he
should be glad to be informed how I accounted for the vast bodies of
ice which had invariably stopped the progress of navigators in high
[42]latitudes, if my notions of great heat at the
poles were correct? “Take a chair, Mr. Slim, and we will talk
about it. In the first place, we have no account of any navigator
having sailed to a higher southern latitude than 71°, and 82°
appears, from the most authentic accounts, to be the highest northern
latitude that has been visited. Navigators to these high latitudes have
always found ice between the parallels of 70° and 80°, which
space that profound philosopher, John Cleve Symmes, denominates the
‘icy hoop.’ It is true he has not taken the trouble to
explain to the world, in a satisfactory manner, why and wherefore this
narrow strip of ice should exist in that region; which omission, I
judge, must have arisen from the circumstance of its being obvious to
his capacious mind, that such a ‘hoop’ must necessarily
exist, ‘according to the laws of matter and motion.’ The
causes of it appearing to him perfectly simple, he could not suppose it
necessary to state them to ‘the most enlightened people on the
face of the globe.’ Now, sir, I will explain the matter to you.
At the pole, that is, ninety degrees from the equator, there is seven
months summer, [43]without any interval of night, as I stated on
deck; and when the sun has twenty-three and a half degrees of south
declination, its rays must strike the pole, allowing but three degrees
for the effect of refraction, on an angle of 26½° with the
plane of the horizon, and must appear nearly as high as in Scotland in
the months of March and September. It is true it does not continue at
this extreme declination for any great length of time. On the other
hand, it does not recede so far as to withdraw its rays from the pole
for a single hour during seven months of the year. This we know; and
you can imagine, from the effect of a March sun, which in your country,
Mr. Slim, loosens the icy fetters of winter, although withdrawn one
half of the time, what must be its effect when exerting its influence
for months without any interruption? Now in latitude 70°, with the
exception of a few days, there is an interval of night the year round.
In the winter months the climate cannot differ much from that of the
pole. The cold is then no doubt severe, and forms ice in both those
positions. In the early part of summer, that is, September, October,
and [44]November, there is at the pole a steady blaze of
heat and light, which must melt the ice accumulated in winter, by
causing a constant thaw. This sunshine continues at the pole till the
1st of April, and prevents the forming of ice until that time. But at
70°, there is, through most of these months, a short period of
night, sufficient for the atmosphere to cool. This will be more
obvious, if we consider the powerful influence of the ice, during this
absence of the sun’s rays, and remember the great change of
temperature which occurs in our climate immediately after sunset at the
close of a sunny day in February or March. This interval of night in
latitude 70°, counteracts most of the effects of the sun’s
heat in the day time. Nearly as much ice forms in the night as is
thawed during the day. This accounts for the ‘icy hoop.’
There is not summer enough to dissipate the ice of winter; while at the
pole there is summer enough to dissolve a globe of ice.”
“But, sir,” rejoined Mr. Slim, “if
this ‘icy hoop’ exists, how do you expect to pass it? or,
if it is impassable, what use is there in encountering the risk of
navigating unknown and dangerous [45]seas, in a high and boisterous
latitude?”
“I mean, sir, to ascertain whether it be passable
or not. I think it probable that the influence of the summer heat may
so far weaken it as to admit of broad openings being formed by the
pressure of wind or currents, and if I can find an opening of but a
mile wide, I shall dash through it, at all hazards.”
“And a pretty condition we shall be in, Capt.
Seaborn, if the ice closes the passage after we have dashed through
it!” replied Mr. Slim. “We shipped with you, sir, for a
sealing voyage; not for a voyage of discovery.”
“You will please to remember, Mr. Slim, that I am
expressly authorized by the articles, to cruize and seek for seals
wheresoever I may judge expedient and proper, and that any opposition
to my authority will involve the forfeiture of your
share—recollect that, Mr. Slim.”
“I do recollect that, sir; but at the same time I
know, Capt. Seaborn, that you have no right to hazard all our lives, by
running into dangers, greater than were ever encountered by human
beings, to gratify your mad passion for discovery, instead of pursuing
[46]the interest of all concerned, by endeavouring to
find seals in the usual manner. How will you justify yourself to the
world, to our families, or to your own conscience, if we should, after
effecting a passage through this ‘icy hoop’ you speak of,
find it closed against our return, and be thus forever lost to our
wives, our children, and society? We must in such a case all perish,
and our blood would be upon your head.” A plague upon your lean
carcass, thought I, how am I to answer so many impertinent questions. I
could not tell him of my belief of open poles, affording a practicable
passage to the internal world, and of my confident expectations of
finding comfortable winter quarters inside; for he would take that as
evidence of my being insane, and by means of it persuade the crew to
dispossess me of my command, and confine me to my cabin for the
remainder of the voyage. After knitting my brows a short time, I
replied, “Mr. Slim, you are a sufficiently capable officer, and
can get through with your duty well enough when you choose to do it,
but you don’t know every thing; your mind is too dense to admit
the rays of intelligence. I would have you to [47]know,
Sir, that I command this ship, and am not to be thwarted or dictated to
by any man. I have noticed your rebellious spirit; now mark me, Sir, so
sure as I have any more of your opposition to my will, or bear any more
of your murmuring; the moment I detect you in uttering one discouraging
word in the hearing of any of my officers or men,—I will confine
you, and carry you home in irons, to take your trial for conspiring to
make a revolt in the ship, which is death by the law; remember that,
and go to your duty, Sir.”
Slim had some prudence, and was a great lover of pelf;
he did not relish the idea of forfeiting his share; he kept his tongue
between his teeth; but his lank, expressive features spoke horrible
things. This comes of taking more officers than there is duty for,
thought I, as he left the cabin; that fellow will give me trouble
enough before I get rid of him; there is nothing like constant hard
work to keep men out of mischief. But I had not much time for
reflection, for Will Mackerel, my fourth mate, whose birth adjoined my
cabin, had overheard all that passed in my interview with Slim, and as
soon as he was [48]out of the way bolted into my cabin, without much
ceremony. Will was a hearty, frank, thorough bred sailor; doffing his
hat to his commander was the only point of etiquette he was acquainted
with, and he thought it degrading to perform that ceremony to any other
person. Will reverenced his commander when he found him to be a good
sailor, a skilful navigator, and a kind hearted man. He commenced with,
“Captain Seaborn, that fellow’s insolence is unsufferable;
he has spoken more mutiny to your face, in your own cabin, in ten
minutes, than all the rest of the ship’s company would dare to
think of, in the forecastle, the whole voyage. I would not give a rope
yarn for a sailor who would not go wherever the captain had courage to
lead the way. I would not put up with it; there is but one Slim in the
ship, and we’ll heave him overboard, if you say the word; at
least, I’d clap the ruffles1 on him, and keep him out of
harm’s way the rest of the voyage.”
Whether it was honest indignation that prompted
Will’s advice, or whether some little desire for Slim’s
birth, to which he would be promoted of course if Slim [49]were
cashiered, had its influence, I did not stop to ascertain. I told Will,
to be quiet, to say nothing of what had passed between me and Mr. Slim,
but to observe him closely, and let toe know if he detected him in
endeavours to corrupt the crew.
We made rapid progress, and were soon in the latitude of
Sandwich land, as laid down in the charts, where we met with nothing
but clear blue ocean. I hauled up S. S. E., true course, and stood on
as far as 68° South, making the best use of my time by daylight,
and drifting back upon my track during the short interval of night. On
the 2d Nov. in lat. 68½, we met with ice in detached fields; and
had strong gales from S. W. with raw, drizzly weather. I edged away to
the eastward, intending to keep near the ice, and hauled to the
southward, when a clear sea would permit. The first day, we kept the
‘blink of the ice’2 in sight, and found it to trend
nearly East and West. Made no southing this day. The second, we were
[50]enabled to haul up S. E. and by E. and continued
this course without nearing the ice. The following day, hauled up S.
E., set the engine in motion, and made rapid way; we observed this day
at noon, in 75° 22′ S. I was elated with the prospect of
reaching a much higher southern latitude than any former navigator had
been able to gain, and pushed on as fast as canvas and steam could
drive my vessel.
We had no interval of night in this high latitude, the
sun’s declination being 15° S. After running on this course
24 hours, we lost sight of the ice entirely, and thinking it most
prudent to keep close under the lee of the ice to windward, that in
case of a hard gale we might have smooth water, I steered due South. We
observed this day, 5th Nov. in 78° 10′, with cold, raw,
disagreeable weather.
I had observed Slim moving about the ship, like an
uneasy spirit compelled to revisit this troubled world, often
whispering to the men, and frequently visiting the forecastle. When I
came on deck after dinner, the whole ship’s company came aft,
with Slim at their head, who in their behalf told me, that the crew had
determined to go no further with me [51]into this region of ice. Will
Mackerel, who was on the quarter deck, spoke up with great passion, and
asked Slim if he meant to head a mutiny? adding, that if such was the
case, he would let him see that he was a man to stand by his commander.
He then called upon those who were of his mettle, to come over to the
starboard side; which some few did, while some took their stand
amidships, that they might go either way, as circumstances should
dictate. The greater number, however, remained with Slim. There was a
sad uproar for a short time, every one having something to say, and to
enforce with an oath. Even the man on the lookout at the mast head came
down from his station to take a part in the affair.
While this war of words was going on, Mr. Boneto, who
was below, hearing high words on deck, came up with his hanger and
pistols; and the steward brought me mine, but I ordered him to put them
up again, saying, if the men will not listen to reason, we will give up
the voyage. The truth was, I felt sensible that had I been possessed of
my pistols at the outset, I should certainly have shot Mr. Slim; but at
this time the [52]irritation of the first impulse had subsided a
little. I had had time to cool. Mr. Albicore was standing by my side,
as mute as a fish, waiting for orders. The boatswain, Jack Whiffle his
mate, and a number of the best men, had joined Will Mackerel’s
party; while those who adhered to Slim were the poorest seamen, and
most timid men in the ship, though at the same time the most noisy.
How the matter would have terminated but for a lucky
occurrence is doubtful. The vessel was running on her course during
this contest, with no one on the look out: a splash in the water, close
aboard to windward, drew my attention that way; it was a seal. At the
same moment I observed the water to be discoloured, and instantly
ordered the engine to be stopped, and a cast of the lead to be made.
Some of the faithful hastened to execute this order under the direction
of Albicore and Will Mackerel: but Slim and his malcontents kept up
their vociferation, Slim telling them that it was only a manœuvre
of mine to divert them from their purpose.
While this was going on, I swept the horizon with my spy
glass, and soon discovered in the S. W. directly to wind-ward,
[53]a low range of broken land. The moment I fixed my
glass upon it, every eye was turned in that direction: some sprang into
the rigging, some ran to the mast head, and the joyful cry of land ho!
land! dispelled the mutinous disposition of the crew.
Sixty-five fathoms, soft ooze, was the report of
soundings; a delightful indication of an extensive body of land, with
large rivers depositing their sediment on the bottom of the deep. We
soon approached, and observed the coast to range about S. E. and N. W.
as far as the eye could reach from the mast head. I called the
attention of my officers to this circumstance, and observed to them
that the broad opening which we had found in the ‘icy hoop’
could now be easily accounted for. We had noticed that the prevailing
wind was from the S. W. with strong gales, the influence of which was
continually forcing the ice to the eastward; but this body of land,
ranging from the S. E. to the N. W. stopped the ice to the westward of
it, while that to the eastward was driven away, leaving a clear passage
to leeward of the land. From the westerly winds prevailing all the year
round, this must always be the case, unless [54]the
‘immutable laws of matter and motion,’ and the relation
between ‘cause and effect’ should be changed.
Mr. Slim, who had been leaning over the rail with his
back towards me during my discourse, now turned upon me, with
“well said, captain, that is the best reasoning I have heard from
you yet,—I understand that.” The truth was, we were now
well in with the land, and the appearance of vast numbers of seal in
the water and upon the shore, gave a prospect of a splendid voyage, and
excited Slim’s cupidity, and his apprehension for the safety of
his share, which he was aware he had jeopardized by his conduct.
I was in excellent good humour, and told Slim I would
overlook what had passed; I could do no less, at a moment when a kind
providence was favouring my enterprise beyond my hopes, notwithstanding
my numerous transgressions, without evincing an ungrateful and
malicious spirit. The utmost joy prevailed throughout the ship’s
company; even Slim’s livid countenance was distorted with an
unusual grin. Slim was not without shrewdness, and occasionally
he pretended to be very religious; but he had a double allowance of native
selfishness, [55]and worshipped with heartfelt devotion no other
god but gold. With his misconduct forgiven, and a prospect of gain
which surpassed his most sanguine expectations, he felt emotions as
much like those of happiness, as such a compound of evil passions could
be supposed to feel.
When near the land, I observed it to be in general very
low; there was scarcely any appearance of elevated spots, and no high
hills or mountains could be seen. From the rugged appearance of the
coast, I judged that there were deep indentations, affording numerous
and convenient harbours, but in this I was mistaken. What we had taken
for the coast, proved to be a succession of islands, with a broad sound
between them and the main land, which latter had a straight, unbroken
shore. Deep water, and a very rapid current or tide, rendered it unsafe
to anchor amongst the islands; we therefore continued to coast along
the main shore in search of a harbour for several hours. The shore in
this place was not elevated more than 30 to 40 feet above the level of
the sea. It was skirted with tussoc, which, from the very [56]gradual
rise of the land, hid all the interior from our view, except a few
moderate elevations far distant.
At 6 P. M. the appearance of a wide bay induced me to
send off the boat to examine for anchorage. At 10 they returned, with
the information that the bay afforded good shelter with soft ground,
but was rather objectionable as a harbour, in so high a latitude, on
account of its being full four miles wide, and very deep. I determined
to run in and anchor, until a more secure port could be found; and
having despatched two boats ahead to report the soundings by signal,
stood into the bay, and at 12 o’clock P. M. anchored in 10
fathoms, soft mud, the two capes of the bay in one S. S. E. about one
league, the western shore one mile distant. Although it was midnight
according to our reckoning, we had a bright sunshine, the sun appearing
ten degrees above the horizon.
This land having been first seen by myself, my officers
and men united in calling it after my name, and expressed their wish
that I would permit it to be so denominated; it was accordingly
recorded in the [57]ship’s log book by the name of
Seaborn’s Land.
I had much need of rest, having been almost constantly
on deck for five days; and after ordering the deck watch to get the
boats out, and prepare every thing for an excursion, I retired to my
cabin, and was soon fast asleep. [58]
