My Father’s notable enterprise in the attainment, probably, of the highest latitude that had ever been reached by man was made in the ship Resolution, in the voyage of 1806. Occupying, young as I was, the responsible office of chief-mate in the ship, I have the records of the adventure preserved in my journal in all their essential or important details. The entrance into the ordinary fishing-stations on the western side of Spitzbergen was, on this occasion, occupied by ice of extraordinary breadth and compactness. We entered it on the 28th of April, in the latitude of 76° N., and, pressing northward at every available opening, we reached the latitude of 77° on the 7th of May. Several ships were then in sight. On the 10th, a gale setting in from the S.E., we were enabled to make considerable progress through the encumbering ice, and soon left all our associate whalers fairly out of sight; and from that time until the 19th of June (after we had retraced much of our progress southward) we never saw a sail. Up to the 13th of May, indeed, there was nothing unusual, as to the practice of my Father, in the nature of the adventure. But on that day, being in latitude about 78° 46′, within sight of Charles Island, on the western coast of Spitzbergen, he entered upon a new and apparently dangerous enterprise,—the attempt to find, whilst the sea was apparently _filled_ with ice, in this high latitude, a navigable sea still nearer the Pole. The ice around was singularly compact, and, to ordinary apprehension, impenetrable. Northward of us it consisted, as far as our view extended, of scattered masses of heavy drift-ice, closely cemented into a compact body by recently formed _bay-ice_. To attempt a passage herein, if such were possible, must, in any case, be a most difficult and laborious undertaking; but if the compact body were entered, and not successfully penetrated and passed beyond, it might involve a risk, which a considerable fleet actually fell into, of the loss of the fishing season by a helpless besetment. There were indications, however, which my Father’s experienced eye alone discerned,—of open water to the northward. The bright reflection of the snow-covered ices in the sky, constituting the phenomenon of the “ice blink,” most certainly pointed out the continuous encumbering of the navigation for a considerable way in advance; but, when elevated to the very top of the mast, he could perceive a bluish grey streak _below_ the ice-blink, parallel to and skirting the horizon, which he deemed a sure indication of “clear water,” _beyond_ the proximate “pack.” Yet this grey reflection, or “water-sky,” might not be of any great extent? It might arise from a transient vein of water capable of being obliterated on the first change of wind? Were such the nature of the opening, it might prove, even if reached, the more dangerous trap, as its position was more advanced northward?