In the summer of 1871, forty or more splendid ships, the pick of the New Bedford fleet, were following the whales along this ice-bound coast. The pursuit had been one of more than common difficulty. The ice was everywhere, and again and again, even in midsummer, the ships had been in great danger from it. Boats were crushed by the shifting floes, and before September was fairly in, three staunch ships, the brig Comet, the barks Roman and Ashawonks, had been wrecked and their crews transferred to other vessels. The season was at an end, and the situation of the remaining ships one of grave peril, for the ice was closing rapidly around them and it seemed impossible to work out of it. There were not provisions enough to winter the crews, and frequent and serious consultations were held by the captains. By way of precaution, men were set to work building up the gunwales of the boats that they might better resist the waves, and they were sheathed with copper to keep the ice from harming them. An expedition of three boats was now sent down the coast to see how far the ice extended. This returned and reported that it was utterly impracticable to get any of the main fleet out; that the Arctic and another vessel were in clear water below the fields which extended to the south of Blossom Shoals, eighty miles below the imprisoned crafts; and that five more vessels, now fast in this lower ice, were likely to get out soon. The leader also reported, what every man knew, that these free vessels would lie by and wait to aid their imprisoned comrades. It is a part of the whaleman’s creed to stand by his mates. To remain with the imprisoned ships was to perish with them, and they decided to abandon them. It was a sad day. The signals for departure,—flags at the masthead, union down,—were set, and with heavy hearts they entered their boats and pulled away, a mournful flotilla. Women and children, families of the captains, were there, and the keen north wind blew over the frozen sea, chilling the unfortunate fugitives to the marrow. At night they camped on the beach, turning the boats bottom upward and covering them with sails, making a comfortable refuge for the women and children. The rest found shelter as best they might.