The constant besetment of the ships, and our daily observations for latitude and longitude, afforded a favourable opportunity for ascertaining precisely the set of any currents by which the whole body of ice might be actuated. By attending very carefully to all the circumstances, it was evident that a daily set to the southward obtained when the wind was northerly, differing in amount from two or three, to eight or ten miles per day, according to the strength of the breeze; but a northerly current was equally apparent, and fully to the same amount, whenever the wind blew from the southward. A circumstance more remarkable than these, however, forced itself strongly upon my notice at this time, which was, that a westerly set was very frequently apparent, even against a fresh breeze blowing from that quarter. I mention the circumstance in this place, because I may hereafter have to offer a remark or two on this fact, in connexion with some others of a similar nature noticed elsewhere.
With respect to the dimensions of the ice through which we had now scrambled our way, principally by warping and towing, a distance of between three and four hundred miles, I remarked that it for the most part increased, as well in the thickness as the extent of the floes, as we advanced westward about the parallel of 71 deg. During our subsequent progress to the north, we also met with some of enormous dimensions, several of the floes, to which we applied our hawsers and the power of the improved capstan, being at their margin more than twenty feet above the level of the sea; and over some of these we could not see from the masthead. Upon the whole, however, the magnitude of the ice became somewhat less towards the northwest, and within thirty miles of that margin the masses were comparatively small, and their thickness much diminished. Bergs were in sight during the whole passage, but they were more numerous towards the middle of the “pack,” and rather the most so to the southward.
CHAPTER II.
Enter Sir James Lancaster’s Sound.—Land at Cape Warrender.—Meet with young Ice.—Ships beset and carried near the Shore.—Driven back to Navy-board Inlet.—Run to the Westward, and enter Prince Regent’s Inlet.—Arrival at Port Bowen.
All our past obstacles were in a moment forgotten when we once more saw an open sea before us; but it must be confessed that it was not so easy to forget that the middle of September was already near at hand, without having brought us even to the entrance of Sir James Lancaster’s Sound. That not a moment might be lost, however, in pushing to the westward, a press of canvass was crowded, and, being happily favoured with an easterly breeze, on the morning of Sept. 10th we caught a glimpse of the high bold land on the north side of the magnificent inlet up which our course was once more to be directed. From the time of our leaving the main body of ice, we met with none of any kind, and the entrance to the Sound was, as usual, entirely free from it, except here and there a berg, floating about in that solitary grandeur, of which these enormous masses, when occurring in the midst of an extensive sea, are calculated to convey so sublime an idea.