“We entered into the spirit of the fun willingly, knowing that our sailors were decent fellows, and would not carry things too far, even had we not entered on the ship’s books with them in Breman, and become seamen. Our carpenter went about the whole day with a sly, laughing face, and towards evening had quite lost his usual chattiness. We ourselves kept in the cabin, so as not to witness the preparations. At midnight we were called on deck. A gun was fired, and as its thunder died away, we heard the well-known cry, ‘Ship ahoy!’ Three wonderful figures climbed over the bowsprit; Neptune first, in an Eskimo’s dress, with a great white cotton beard, a seven-pronged dolphin harpoon for a trident in one hand, and a speaking-trumpet in the other. A tarpaulin was spread on the quarter-deck, and a stool placed upon it. It looked like a judge’s bench. Here each of us was seated with eyes bound, while the masked followers of the northern Ruler went through the customary proceedings. I was soaped and shaved; god Neptune was most favorable to me; he knows what good cigars are, and has great respect for those to whom they belong. Then came the christening, which in this case was not applied to the head (as is usual) but to the throat and stomach. Neptune put some questions to me through his speaking-trumpet, desiring me to answer. I saw his object, answered with a short ‘Yes’ and then closed my lips. The mischievous waterfall rattled over me, causing universal merriment. They then took the bandage from my eyes, that I might see my handsome face in the glass; but instead of a looking glass, it was the combing of the wooden hatchway, which with great gravity was held before my face by the barber’s assistant. I was now absolved, and could laugh with the others, whilst seeing my comrades obliged to go through the same course one after the other.” By the 9th of July, the expedition came in sight of the island of Jan Mayen. The midnight hours had now become perceptibly lighter; even in the cabin a lamp was no longer needed, and at twelve o’clock at night it was possible to read and write without difficulty. Fog and snow had already begun their rule of terror, and Captain Koldewey records three hundred and sixty-eight hours of fog from the 10th of July to the 1st of August.