that (I mean to ascertain the fact of the ice being
through), it being too evident that the ship could not last many
minutes. I then sounded the well, and found five feet in the hold; and,
whilst in the act of sounding, a heavier nip than before pressed out the
starboard bow, and the ice was forced right into the forecastle. Every
one then abandoned the ship, with what few clothes they saved--some with
only what they had on. The ship now began to sink fast, and from the
time her bowsprit touched the ice until her mast-heads were out of
sight, did not occupy above one minute and a half!
"It was a very sad and unceremonious way of being turned out of our
ship. From the time the first nip took her, until her disappearance,
did not occupy more than fifteen minutes."
Such is the account of the fate of the _Breadalbane_. While we read it,
we cannot help feeling that many arctic ships must have perished in a
similar manner. It is wonderful, nevertheless, how many of those that
dare the dangers of the ice survive the conflict. Undoubtedly this is
owing, to a large extent, to the fact that ships' bottoms are rounded;
so that when a severe nip takes place, there is a tendency in the ice to
slip under their rounded bottoms, and squeeze the vessels up out of the
water. Were it not for this, few ships that have gone to those seas
would ever have returned.
A catastrophe such as that which befell the _Breadalbane_ shows the
immense power of field-ice. Hundreds of somewhat similar incidents
might be cited to illustrate this power; but we content ourselves with
the selection of one instance, which exhibits it in a remarkable manner,
and at the same time shows the way in which heavy vessels are sometimes
forced out of the water.
In the year 1836, Captain Back commanded the _Terror_, which was sent
out to make geographical discoveries in the polar regions, and spent the
winter of that year in the ice. Few ships have undergone severer tests
than did the _Terror_ on that voyage. The severest treatment she
experienced was in the spring, when the disruption of the winter ice
began to take place. The evening of the 7th of March was specially
fraught with danger. We quote the gallant commander's graphic
account:--
"Ominous rushing sounds were heard far off to the north-east and
north-west. These gradually drew nearer as the flood made its way,
either under the compact bodies that withstood the shock, or along the
crack
|