The World of Ice by R. M. Ballantyne (digital e reader TXT) 📕

drifted up her hull so much that it seemed as if she were resting on the land, and had taken final leave of her native element. Strong hawsers were then secured to Store Island in order to guard against the possibility of her being carried away by any sudden disruption of the ice. The disposition of the masts, yards, and sails were next determined on; the top-gallant masts were struck, the lower yards got down to the housings. The top-sail yards, gaff, and jib-boom, however, were left in their places. The top-sails and courses were kept bent to the yards, the sheets being unrove, and the clews tucked in. The rest of the binding sails were stowed on deck to prevent their thawing during winter; and the spare spars were lashed over the ship’s sides, to leave a clear space for taking exercise in bad weather.

The stores, in order to relieve the strain on the ship, were removed to Store Island, and snugly housed under the tent erected there, and then a thick bank of snow was heaped up round it. After this was accomplished, all the boats were hauled up beside the tent and covered with snow, except the two quarter boats, which were left hanging at the davits all winter. When the thermometer fell below zero it was found that the vapours below, and the breath of the men, condensed on the beams of the lower deck and in the cabin near the hatchway. It was therefore resolved to convert some sheet-iron, which they fortunately possessed, into pipes, which, being conducted from the cooking-stove through the length of the ship, served in some degree to raise the temperature and ventilate the cabins. A regular daily allowance of coal was served out, and four steady men appointed to attend to the fire in regular watches, for the double purpose of seeing that none of the fuel should be wasted, and of guarding against fire. They had likewise charge of the fire-pumps and buckets, and two tanks of water, all of which were kept in the hatchway in constant readiness in case of accidents. In addition to this, a fire-brigade was formed, with Joseph West, a steady, quiet, active young seaman, as its captain, and their stations in the event of fire were fixed beforehand; also a hole was kept constantly open in the ice alongside to ensure at all times a sufficient supply of water.

Strict regulations as to cleanliness, and the daily airing of the hammocks, were laid down, and adhered to throughout the winter. A regular allowance of provisions was appointed to each man, so that they should not run the risk of starving before the return of the wild fowl in spring. But those provisions were all salt, and the captain trusted much to their hunting expeditions for a supply of fresh food, without which there would be little hope of their continuing in a condition of good health. Coffee was served out at breakfast, and cocoa at supper, besides being occasionally supplied at other times to men who had been engaged in exhausting work in extremely cold weather. Afterwards, when the dark season set in, and the crew were confined by the intense cold more than formerly within the ship, various schemes were set afoot for passing the time profitably and agreeably. Among others a school was started by the captain for instructing such of the crew as chose to attend in reading, writing, and arithmetic, and in this hyperborean academy Fred Ellice acted as the writing-master, and Tom Singleton as the accountant. The men were much amused at first at the idea of “goin’ to school”, and some of them looked rather shy at it, but O’Riley, after some consideration, came boldly forward and said: “Well, boys, bad luck to me if I don’t think I’ll be a scholard afther all. My old gran’mother used to tell me, whin I refused to go to the school that was kip be an owld man as tuck his fees out in murphies and photteen,—says she: ‘Ah ye spalpeen, ye’ll niver be cliverer nor the pig, ye wont.’ ‘Ah, then, I hope not,’ says I, ‘for sure she’s far the cliverest in the house, an’ ye wouldn’t have me to be cliverer than me own gran’mother, would ye?’ says I. So I niver wint to school, and more be token, I can’t sign me name, and if it was only to learn how to do that, I’ll go and jine; indeed I will.” So O’Riley joined, and before long every man in the ship was glad to join, in order to have something to do.

The doctor also, twice a week, gave readings from Shakespeare, a copy of which he had fortunately brought with him. He also read extracts from the few other books they happened to have on board, and after a time, finding unexpectedly that he had a talent that way, he began to draw upon his memory and his imagination, and told long stories (which were facetiously called lectures) to the men, who listened to them with great delight. Then Fred started an illustrated newspaper once a week, which was named the Arctic Sun, and which was in great favour during the whole course of its brief existence. It is true, only one copy was issued each morning of publication, because, besides supplying the greater proportion of the material himself, and executing the illustrations in a style that would have made Mr Leech of the present day envious, he had to transcribe the various contributions he received from the men and others in a neat, legible hand. But this one copy was perused and reperused as no single copy of any paper extant—not excepting The Times or Punch—has ever yet been perused; and when it was returned to the editor to be carefully placed in the archives of the Dolphin, it was emphatically the worse for wear. Besides all this, a theatre was set agoing—of which we shall have more to say hereafter.

In thus minutely recounting the various expedients which these banished men fell upon to pass the long dark hours of an Arctic winter, we may, perhaps, give the reader the impression that a great deal of thought and time were bestowed upon amusement, as if that were the chief end and object of their life in those regions. But we must remind him that though many more pages might be filled in recounting all the particulars, but a small portion of their time was, after all, taken up in this way; and it would have been well for them had they been able to find more to amuse them than they did, for the depressing influence of the long-continued darkness, and the want of a sufficiency of regular employment for so many months, added to the rigorous nature of the climate in which they dwelt, well-nigh broke their spirits at last.

In order to secure warmth during winter, the deck of the ship was padded with moss about a foot deep, and, down below, the walls were lined with the same material. The floors were carefully plastered with common paste, and covered with oakum a couple of inches deep, over which a carpet of canvas was spread. Every opening in the deck was fastened down and covered deeply over with moss, with the exception of one hatch, which was their only entrance, and this was kept constantly closed, except when it was desirable to ventilate. Curtains were hung up in front of it to prevent draughts. A canvas awning was also spread over the decks from stem to stern, so that it was confidently hoped the Dolphin would prove a snug tenement even in the severest cold.

As has been said before, the snow-drift almost buried the hull of the ship; and, as snow is a good non-conductor of heat, this further helped to keep up the temperature within. A staircase of snow was built up to the bulwarks on the larboard quarter, and on the starboard side an inclined plane of snow was sloped down to the ice to facilitate the launching of the sledges when they had to be pulled on deck.

Such were the chief arrangements and preparations that were made by our adventurers for spending the winter; but although we have described them at this point in our story, many of them were not completed until a much later period.