Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 103, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 30 April 1913 — THE ISLAND OF CRIMSEY AND JAN MAYEN by THE DUCHESS BEDFORD [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

THE ISLAND OF CRIMSEY AND JAN MAYEN by THE DUCHESS BEDFORD

by THE DUCHESS Of BEDFORD

RCTIC i literature has always had a fascination for me, and it has long been my ambition to see something of the great frozen North; but, with the exception ,of a visit to Spitsbergen in 1902, when I went as far as Amsterdam Island and was stopped by ice, I have not been able to gratify my wish. In 1910 I visited Iceland. I find that when one has been to that country it is always assumed that one must have been Reyklavik

and the Geysirs. But Reyklavik and the Geysirs had no attractions for me, as.l was anxious to visit less well-known parts. The north and east coasts of Iceland and the Island of Grimsey were the object of my voyage.

Grimsey lies thirty miles north of the north coast of Iceland, and is just within the Arctic circle. It has about seventy inhabitants, who, with the exception of the pastor, live in turf huts. There is a very small wooden church, across the interior of which

a large beam supports the walls some two or three feet above the pulpit If the pastor stands upright the beam must come immediately in front of his face, and I regret that I was unable to attend a service to see how the difficulty was solved. The island is best know,n as the onl; breeding-place in Europe of the little auk. I was told that the inhabitants are noted chess and are sent to play in tournaments far from their own home. As an island of chess players, Grimsey may continue to be far famed, but as the home of the little auk 1 fear it is doomed.

During my visits I never saw more than a dozen of these interesting little birds. Their breeding* places are among the boulders on the most accessible parts of the shore, and an egg collector, who has lived a great number of years at Akureyri (the principal port on the north coast of Iceland) boasted to me that there were no little auks left breeding in Orimsey, as he had taken every egg. Fortunately, a few have escaped him, but the birds have evidently enormously decreased since the island was visited by Hantsch, the German naturalist. v Snow buntings, in their beautiful black and white summer plumage, were the commonest birds round the huts. Red-necked phalaropca, purple sandpipers, meadow pipits and ringed plovers were very abundant Eider ducks nest all round the dwelling houses, and are so tame that the islanders stroke them when sitting on their eggs, f

The commonest of the cliff breeders are the fulmars, puffins, kittlwakes, razorbills, and Brunnich’s guillemots, grey phalaropes, wheatears, white wagtails, ravens and other birds are seen In smaller numbers. About three hundred and ten miles N.N.E. of Iceland and two hundred and forty miles from the coast of Greenland, lies the Island of Jan Mayen. I had read about it in various vooks of Arctic travels, and in 1910 suggested half jokingly to my captain that I should like to go there. As the construction of my yacht is not adapted for encountering Ice, he treated my suggestion even less seriously than I had hoped, and for the tltne being I had to agree. However, the thought that I had been within twenty-six hours of that coveted goal lay at the back of my second visit to Iceland the following year, though I did not mention it until I saw what the weather was like at Grlmsey. 1 took the precaution of providing myself with the Austrian chart of Jan Mayen, which I knew my captain would consider unnecessary. Owing to bad weather, I had to wait some time at Akureyri (North Iceland) before I could go over to Grimsey, and during this time a naval lieutenant, who bad been with the ill-fated Mlkkelsen expedition to Greenland, came to call upon me. Unfortunatly, | was not on board, and he Interviewed the captain Instead, told him that Ice had been seen off Grlmsey four days before our arrival, and, of course, scorned the Idea of our going to Jan Mayen. The prospect did not seem hopeful, but as the ice was so near I told my captain that I should like to go and see It, and turn round as aoon as we met with it As we had perpetual daylight this suggestion found favor. We went over to Grlmsey, where the Inhabitants only confirmed what we had already heard, and expected we should meet with Ice about forty miles north of the Island. At «a. m on July 29th we weighed

anchor, and steamed away in pursuit of the Ice, but I stipulated that our course should He straight in the direction of Jan Mayen. The weather was bright and clear, and at 8 a. m. we sighted a distant iceberg between ourselves and the Greenland coast. At 11 a. m. there was no other sign of ice, though we had come over fifty miles. Birds were very scarce, generally only one or two fulmars were in sight, and I had seen two guillemots, two Arctic skua, and a few puffins. At 2p. m. we had steamed eighty-five miles. No ice had been seen, and only a few fulmars and kittlwakes came within sight of the yacht. 7:20 p. m. Log 148 miles. A northerly breeze dprung up, and the temperature of the water was 40 degrees. It had been 42 degrees two hours earlier. I had only seen one - Razorbill in the afternoon and a few fulmarß and kittlwakes. 9:15 p. m. Log 180 miles. Very clear weather. The sun set at about 11:15 p. m. The wind was westerly, and as there was a very heavy swell, little sleep was to be had. Bright sunshine cheered me when I looked out in the early hours of the following morning. There was no sign of Ice, and evidently none had been seen, or I should have heard of it. I knew that Jan Mayen could not be far off. At 7:15 a. m. I again looked out, and saw a dim outline of cliffs ahead, lost above in mist and cloud. Great numbers of Brunnlch’s guillemots, fulmars and a few kittlwakes were flying round, a sure sign of the proximity of land. The thermometer on deck registered 45 degrees Fahrenheit and the log 290 miles. Gradually the beautiful snow-covered volcano, Beerenberg, appeared above the cloud. All below was shrouded in mist, except just above Bea level, where one could trace the dim outline of land. As we approached, a long, low-lying peninsula stretched out to the southwest, and as the mist cleared off and opened up the high cliffs in front of us, we could see that the tops were covered with vegetation, and snow lay only in patches in the deep ravines. The whole island is apparently studded with craters, and the tops of the cliffs form huge rugged basins. The cliffs are a curious rusty red color (suggestive of iron) mixed with the black lava. I am not sure whether It was only the sight of them which frightened my captain, but. at all events, he believed his compasses to be affected, and was not enjoying himself as much as I was. Along the short was a line of broken ioe. The temperature of the water at 9 a. m. was 41 degrees and at 10:50 a. m. 86 degrees. As we steamed along from South Cape to South East Cape w« saw that Beerenberg. which at first appeared part of the cliffs in front of us, was separated from them by a low stretch of land, one mile and a half wide, and apparently little above sea level. Had there been no surf. It looked an easy place to land, but under the circumstances It was Impossible. By the time we reached this Isthmus the whole Island was clear, except for a few fleecy clouds over the southern end. Leaving the Isthmus behind us, we passed the remarkable crater. Egg Bluff, onoe, I believe, an Island, but now apparently connected with the shore. One side of It has been worn away by the sea. It Is 600 feet high, and from Its Inner wall steam Is said to be always rising.

It was the warmest day we had had since leaving England, and I spent the whole morning on the bridge without a coat Shortly after passing Egg Bluff, we steamed under Beerenberg. which, on this glorious, cloudless day, was daasllng In Its snowy whiteness. At noon the thermometer registered 40 degrees, the temperature of the war

ter 87 degrees, and there was a 3 fresh, northwesterly breezeWe continued our voyage round the east coast, and here the sea was' so calm that we went fairly close m shore, as It seemed probable that I could land. We stopped in

sixteen fathoms of water, nearly a mile from

the shore, and had it been good holding ground it might have been possible to anchor, but as we were right in front of the Wille glacier, which comes down to the sea, it was doubtful what the bottom would be like, and in any case it would have been unwise for us to do so. The cliffs on this coast are very precipitous, and, could I have landed, it would only have been possible to walk about half a mile along the narrow strip of beach. As it was, we found, as we approached it in the *dinghey, that there was too much surf to allow of our attempting it, and I had to content myself with rowing along within a few yards of the shore. Floating ice stopped us in one direction, and heavy surf in the other. Numbers of glaucous gulls were sitting above high-water mark, and of course were very tame. Hundreds of Brunnlch’s guillemots and fulmars flew around us, and I saw one black guillemot, probably U. mandtl. Not until I fired my gun had I any idea of the number of birds on the cliff above me. Probably owing to the nature of the soil, and the fact that the lava slopes are less precipitous than the granite cliffs where seafowl generally congregate, the usual evidences of a great breeding resort were absent. The glaciers are not as fine there as in Spitsbergen, as they are covered with lava dust, and the wonderful blue ice, which is sa characteristic of that country, is absent Neither are the tops of the mountains so jagged, and I cannot agree with Scoresby that It reminded me in any way of Spitsbergen. As it was inadvisable to go down the west coast, we returned by the southeast coast, leaving the Wille glacier at 1:40 p. m. As we steamed round the South East cape, we could see the whole of this weird and wonderful Island from end to end lp cloudless sunshine. But for the surf, no one could have seen It under more perfect conditions, and probably without the wind we should have had fog. Already It was creeping up to eastward of us, and at 5 p. m., when we were well away from the island, we rag into It. After the fog we had an easterly gal 6 and dangerous sea, which obliged us to change our course for a time. But I had seen Jan Mayen, and did not greatly care what happened!