The weather being nearly calm on the morning of the 25th, all the boats were kept ahead, to tow the ships through the ice to the westward.  It remained tolerably open till four P.M., when a breeze, freshening up from the eastward, caused the ice, through which we had lately been towing, to close together so rapidly, that we had scarcely time to hoist up the boats before the ships were immovably “beset.”  The clear sea which we had left was about four miles to the eastward of us, while to the westward nothing but one extensive field of ice could be seen.  It is impossible to conceive a more helpless situation than that of a ship thus beset, when all the power that can be applied will not alter the direction of her head a single degree of the compass.

A large black whale, being the first, was seen near the ships.  It is usual for these animals to descend head foremost, displaying the broad fork of their enormous tail above the surface of the water; but, on this occasion, the ice was so close as not to admit of this mode of descent, and the fish went down tail foremost, to the great amusement of our Greenland sailors.

While in this state a large white bear came near the Griper, and was killed by her people, but he sunk between the pieces of ice.  This animal had probably been attracted by the smell of some red herrings which the men were frying at the time.  It is a common practice with the Greenland sailors to take advantage of the strong sense of smelling which these creatures possess, by enticing them near the ships in this manner.

The swell had somewhat subsided on the 29th, but the ships remained firmly fixed in the ice as before.  In the course of the day we saw land bearing N. 69 deg.  W. about thirteen leagues distant, appearing from the masthead like a group of islands, and situated near to the entrance of Cumberland Strait:  the soundings were one hundred and thirty-five fathoms; the temperature of the sea at that depth 30 deg.; that of the surface being the same, and of the air 34 deg.  On the 30th the ice began to slacken a little more about the ships; and, after two hours’ heaving with a hawser on each bow brought to the capstan and windlass, we succeeded in moving the Hecla about her own length to the eastward, where alone any clear sea was visible.  The ice continuing to open still more in the course of the day, we were at length enabled to get both ships into open water, after eight hours’ incessant labour.

On the 1st and 2d of July, we continued to keep close to the edge of the ice without perceiving any opening in it.  Its outer margin consisted of heavy detached masses, much washed by the sea, and formed what is technically called “a pack,” this name being given to ice when so closely connected as not to admit the passage of a ship between the masses.  Within the margin of the pack, it appeared to consist of heavy and extensive floes, having a bright ice-blink over them; but no clear water could be discovered to the westward.  The birds, which had hitherto been seen since our first approach to the ice, were fulmar peterels, little auks, looms, and a few gulls.