That a ship’s company began to evince symptoms of scurvy after twenty-seven months’ entire dependance upon the resources contained within their ship (an experiment hitherto unknown, perhaps, in the annals of navigation, even for one fourth part of that period), could scarcely, indeed, be a subject of wonder, though it was at this particular time a matter of very sincere regret. From the health enjoyed by our people during two successive winters, unassisted as we had been by any supply of fresh antiscorbutic plants or other vegetables, I had began to indulge a hope that, with a continued attention to their comforts, cleanliness, and exercise, the same degree of vigour might, humanly speaking, be ensured at least as long as our present liberal resources should last. Present appearances, however, seemed to indicate differently; for, though our sick-list had scarcely a name upon it, and almost every individual was performing his accustomed duty, yet we had at length been impressed with the unpleasant conviction that a strong predisposition to disease existed among us, and that no very powerful exciting cause was wanting to render it more seriously apparent. Such a conviction at the present crisis was peculiarly disagreeable; for I could not but lament any circumstance tending to weaken the confidence in our strength and resources at a time when more than ordinary exertion was about to be required at our hands.
The 1st of August had now arrived; and yet, incredible as it may appear, the ships were as securely confined in the ice as in the middle of winter, except that a pool of water, about twice their own length in diameter, was now opened around them. I determined, therefore, notwithstanding the apparent hopelessness of sawing our way through four or five miles of ice, to begin that laborious process; not, indeed, with the hope of cutting a canal sufficiently large to allow the passage of the ships to sea, but with a view to weaken it so much as in some measure to assist its disruption whenever any swell should set in upon its margin. On this and the following day, therefore, all the gear was carried down for that purpose, and a large tent pitched for the ships’ companies to dine in, the distance being too great to allow them to return on board to their meals. On the 3d, however, we were saved a great deal of unnecessary labour, by the ice opening out at the crack before mentioned, so that our sawing might now be commenced within a mile of the Fury. After divine service, therefore, all hands were sent from both ships to bring back the tent and tools to the point of Oongalooyat, and the parties were recalled from the walrus-fishery, except a single boat’s crew: these also returned on board a few days after, the whole number of seahorses killed being eight, and one large seal.
On the 4th our sawing work was commenced, with the usual alacrity on the part of the officers and men, and three hundred and fifty yards of ice were got out before night, its thickness varying from one to four feet, but very irregular on account of the numerous pools and holes. An equal length was accomplished on the following day, though not without excessive fatigue and constant wet to the men, several of whom fell into the water by the ice breaking under them.