Sometimes it was a matter of forcing two
floes apart, at others of charging and breaking one. Often we went again
and again at some stubborn bit, backing and charging alternately, as well
as the space behind us would allow. If sufficient momentum was gained the
ship rode upon the thicker floes, rising up upon it and pressing it down
beneath her, until suddenly, perhaps when its nearest edge was almost
amidships, the weight became too great and the ice split beneath us. At
other times a tiny crack, no larger than a vein, would run shivering from
our bows, which widened and widened until the whole ship passed through
without difficulty. Always when below one heard the grumbling of the ice
as it passed along the side. But it was slow work, and hard on the
engines. There were days when we never moved at all.
"I can imagine few things more trying to the patience than the long
wasted days of waiting. Exasperating as it is to see the tons of coal
melting away with the smallest mileage to our credit, one has at least
the satisfaction of active fighting and the hope of better fortune. To
wait idly is the worst of conditions. You can imagine how often and how
restlessly we climbed to the crow's nest and studied the outlook. And
strangely enough there was generally some change to note. A water lead
would mysteriously open up a few miles away, or the place where it had
been would as mysteriously close.
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