Through the first Antarctic night, 1898-1899 : $b a narrative of the voyage of the "Belgica" among newly discovered lands and over an unknown sea about the south poleCook, Frederick Albert
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Through the first Antarctic night, 1898-1899 : $b a narrative of the voyage of the "Belgica" among newly discovered lands and over an unknown sea about the south pole
Cook, Frederick Albert
Antarctica; Antarctica -- Discovery and exploration -- Belgian; Belgica (Ship); Voyages and travels
At about four o’clock a sharp dark line, like a perfectly straight bar
of iron, was seen over the southern horizon. It rose with wondrous
rapidity and as it ascended above this central bar there swelled out
a perfectly smooth and even roll of weirdly luminous vapour. Across
the rounded surface were small, ragged films of intense white and
steel gray passing with lightning haste, and this gave the upper line
an awe-inspiring appearance. Under the central bar the cloud was of
a dark steel gray, but we could at no time see the sky, or even the
horizon under the advancing commotion. We were intensely interested in
the sight, but it did not seem to us particularly dangerous, nor did
it strike the sailors with the terror which I have seen less imposing
sky-effects produce. The strangeness of the sight, however, put the
officers on guard, and every surface of sail that could be taken in was
at once furled. The sea now began to rise and it was strange to watch
it. It first boiled, apparently without wind, into short waves. This
the following wind straightened out like the wrinkles of a cloth under
a smoothing-iron. Then other waves rose too high and too solid for the
wind to flatten. These increased in size, and multiplied in numbers,
and rushed towards us in huge coils of spray. The _Belgica_
pitched and tumbled in the resulting sea, but as yet no wind had struck
her. The water and the air was lighted with a sort of vague pearly
glow. At this time the strange line seemed just over our bowsprit, and
extended entirely across the heavens from east to west, but only a
little draught of air crossed the bridge.
I turned to watch the men who had suddenly left their work and were
coming down from the rigging. All at once the bark was struck with
terrific force, and stopped as suddenly as if she had struck a stone
wall; this was followed by a howling, maddening noise as the wind
passed through the ropes and spars such as I had never heard before
or since. Everybody grasped a bar or a rope to keep from being swept
overboard. The bark, after the first thud, raised her bow and drove
her stern into the boiling sea, and then righted, seemingly prepared
for the next assault. After a few other, but lesser, puffs, the wind
came with a steady hiss--like steam from an exhaust pipe, and its
force was expended with the same rapidity with which it fell upon
us. From the commencement to the termination this strange onslaught
occupied but fifteen minutes; but this was as much as I care to see of
a hurricane of this sort, though they are sufficiently prevalent in
this region to receive the special local name of _pamperos_. A
_pampero_ is apt to leave a lasting impression on one’s mind, and
on the _Belgica_ we date all of our events from the time of its
occurrence.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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