The Great Frozen Sea: A Personal Narrative of the Voyage of the "Alert"Markham, Albert Hastings, Sir
History
The Great Frozen Sea: A Personal Narrative of the Voyage of the "Alert"
Markham, Albert Hastings, Sir
Alert (Sloop : 1856-1895); Arctic regions; Nares, George S. (George Strong), 1831-1915
I cannot do better than quote the words of Sir George Nares, who,
addressing our men before leaving England, whilst explaining to them the
nature of the work that they were about to engage in, and speaking from
his own personal previous experience of sledge life, said, "That if they
could imagine the hardest work they had ever been called upon to perform
in their lives intensified to the utmost degree, it would only be as
child's play in comparison with the work they would have to perform
whilst sledging!"
These prophetic words were fully realized, and were often recalled and
commented on by the men during their initiation into the work of
sledging.
The autumn sledge travelling has been alluded to by a very distinguished
and successful explorer in the Arctic Regions, as "the very acme of
discomfort." In the accuracy of this statement we, one and all, fully
concurred.
The principal reasons that sledging at this period of the year is more
disagreeable than in the spring are, first, because the rapidly
decreasing light caused by the sun's altitude lessening day by day is
decidedly opposed to either work or comfort. Before our return from
sledging, the sun had illumined for the last time, until its
reappearance the following year, the summits of the snow-covered hills
in the vicinity of the "Alert's" winter quarters, and had sunk, slowly
and majestically, beneath the southern horizon, bequeathing to us only
for a short time a few bright rays until the long polar night wrapped us
in its sombre mantle, and enveloped us in gloom and obscurity for many
months.
"'Tis gone, that bright and orbèd blaze,
Fast fading from our wistful gaze;
Yon mantling cloud has hid from sight
The last faint pulse of quivering light."
A few hours of twilight, therefore, were all we had in which to work.
Candles we had none. Our breakfast before we started in the morning and
our supper after we halted in the evening had to be discussed in gloomy
darkness. Our notes had to be written in our journals before entering
the tent, even at the risk of frost-bitten fingers.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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