experiments were always directed, but which terminated in the result that it was a vegetable mass, and probably a cryptogamous plant, had irritated Chladni to such a degree, that he complained, sect. 383, of the valuable meteoric dust being thus. wasted by the absurd interference of chemists. In sect. 385, he says that chemists and physicians pretend to know the qualities and origin of this material better than naturalists.

(To be concluded in next Number.)

Observations on the Greenland Sea as connected with the late Disasters in Baffin's Bay*. By THOMAS LATTA, M. D., Member of the Wernerian Society, with a Map.

nicated by the Author.

Commu

Ir is only thirteen years since the higher latitudes of Baffin's Bay have become famous in the annals of the whale-fishery, and, during that short period, no less than seventy sail, employed by our own countrymen in that trade, have been destroyed, causing not only a national loss in the destruction of much valuable property, but great misery to the numerous families who were dependent on the success of the various enterprises. The frequency of these disasters may be considered as a sufficient apology for our presuming to suggest such means as may tend to diminish the chance of their recurrence. It is true we cannot form any plan, consistent with the prosperity of the voyage, by which the dangers may be entirely averted, because these, for the most part, depend on the movements of the ice, which are very irregular, being controlled by every wind that blows; yet, on viewing the peculiarities of the track pursued by the navigator, and considering the changes effected in these by the advances of the season, we may be able to propose some changes, calculated to diminish the risks inseparable from the present system.

• Dr Latta having visited the Greenland Seas, as our readers will recollect from his former papers in this Journal, his observations may be received as those of one experienced in the nature of arctic regions.

In the history of the whale-fishery, there are mentioned three different quarters in and adjoining Baffin's Bay, which are visited for the capture of whales. The first of these lies along the east side of the bay, extending from the entrance of Davis' Straits northward by Disco, to about the 73d parallel of latitude. The southern half of this tract is generally open early in the season; whilst its more northern extremity is seldom navigable till late in July, and is even then very hazardous. It was in former years numerously frequented by whales, but is now entirely deserted by them. The second station, usually called the "South-west Fishing-ground," lies along the coast of Labrador, and about the entrance of Hudson's Straits. Though this, from its position, is accessible at all times, yet the whalefishery is prosecuted there under many disadvantages, and not a few dangers; for not only have the whales become very scarce, but they are to be seen only in spring, when the weather is extremely cold, and the nights long and dark, and are to be pursued occasionally among heavy-washed lumps of ice, exposed to all the fury of the waves from the Atlantic. This station was the chief source whence blubber was derived this season. Fishermen, however, seldom do more than call at this quarter on their way northward. Indeed, during the present season, some of our most enterprising fishermen considered such a visit as a waste of time, and, on doubling Cape Farewell, took their course directly northward. From the scarcity of "fish" on the coast of Labrador, and the absence of them along the eastern shores of Baffin's Bay, whale-hunters are now constrained to seek their prey in higher latitudes, pursuing it even to the regions adjoining Lancaster Sound, which is the third station we have to notice. Whales are found there in great abundance, but they are yearly becoming more scarce, and much more shy than when first fished. Though this station was discovered by Baffin upwards of 200 years ago, it did not become famous for its whales till 1817, when Mr Muirhead, master of the Larkins of Borrowstounness, penetrated these unfrequented regions. Encouraged by a "clean ship" and a navigable sea, he sailed northward, at what, in those days, was considered a late season,—the beginning of August, much to the terror of the crew, who, nevertheless, filled the ship with blubber in ten days! In the

following year (1818) the Discovery Ships, commanded by Captain Ross, penetrated the deeper parts of Baffin's Bay, and found them swarming with whales. Since that discovery this fishingground has been annually resorted to by our whalers, notwithstanding the manyfold perils of the voyage, of which we shall now endeavour to give a general view.

The whaler of the present day generally reaches the ice at the entrance of Davis' Straits about the end of March or beginning of April, amidst fogs and tempests, extreme cold, and long dark nights. He immediately commences his search after whales, hoping to find them in their ancient haunts, but seldom meeting with any thing to encourage his delay; he, through the injudicious orders of his employers, or his own misguided zeal, immediately stretches northward towards the regions where whales are abundant. Two routes lead thither, the one along the eastern, the other along the western side of Baffin's Bay, the sea in the middle being, at this early season, totally unnavigable, from the vast quantity of ice formed during winter. Being aware of the great advantage of an unimpeded western passage, his first business is to seek it out. There the sea is sometimes opened by the south-west wind, which, as in the Spitzbergen seas, prevails during spring and summer, driving the ice off the land. He very seldom succeeds so early in the season, and in the attempt is in great hazard of being "beset," for unless the wind prevents it, he will always find the western shores of the sea, in the frozen regions, more hampered with ice than the eastern. Besides, the irregularities of the coast of the west land, and the course of the great southerly current, which is only sensibly felt there, are very inimical to such an attempt. From Home Bay, in Latitude 68° N., down to the Arctic Circle, the land stretches out into the bay, forming a promontory, which is opposed to the course of the current. This promontory, assisted by the many icebergs stranded on its shallows, arrests the drifting ice, to the hinderance of the navigator's farther progress, who, anxious to reach the waters where whales abound, is induced to try the more dangerous eastern passage, which, though pregnant throughout with difficulties, does not become eminently perilous until he gets beyond what constituted the northern limits of the station frequented by the old fishermen, who

had always a superstitious dread of the latitude of The Devil's Thumb. Beyond this he has daily to contend with increasing dangers, compared with which the hazards of the Spitzbergen fishery are very insignificant, and, as he nears Melville Bay, he gets into a region, bearing both on sea and land, the most frightful impress of the terrible power of the dismal winter in those forlorn regions. Throughout several hundred miles of coast, the soil is buried under mountains of ice, which must have been accumulating for ages; the seaward limits of this tract terminate in a terrible precipice, from one to two thousand feet high, fragments from which, weighing thousands of millions of tons, constitute the icebergs seen drifting about in the sea, and often aground in water some hundred of fathoms deep. From the cavernous base of this frozen shore, an icy plain in many places takes its origin, stretching ten or twenty leagues out to sea, retaining its site unmoved, till subdued by the warmth of advancing summer. Field-ice of this description, studded with icebergs aground, which assist in its formation, is common on the shores of Baffin's Bay, and the coast of Old Greenland, whence it is called "Land Ice," to distinguish it from the fields, floes, icebergs, &c., which are seen drifting about in the sea, and are called "Sea-Ice." The former is fixed, the latter is detached, differences on which depends the possibility of navigating these regions in spring, for all along the eastern shore, unless prevented by adverse winds, the separated ice recedes from that which is fixed; thus, a channel is formed along the seaward limits of the land portion, increasing in width as the ice is dissolved. It is through this channel that the whale-fisher pushes his way northward; but, in early months, the ice continuing uninfluenced by the season, this opening is at best but narrow, often partially obstructed, affording only a tedious and intricate navigation; frequently it is entirely obliterated, causing a most irksome detention for weeks, and even months. Nor, is this all, for in proportion to the strength of the gale, so is the force with which the ice is hurried towards the shore, then the situation of the mariner caught in the drift becomes one of extreme anxiety. While yet a little "open water" remains, he seeks the lee of some iceberg aground, or some creek in the margin of the land-ice, or of the big field or floe which drifts

down upon him, into which he may thrust his ship. If no situation is found, the crew ply their ice-saws, and cut out a dock, where they may safely remain till the ice recedes. Such a situation in the land-ice, if it is sufficiently strong, is preferable, being free from the revolving movements of the detached masses. Often, however, their labour is unavailing, their retreat, obtained by so much exertion, being unable to sustain the tremendous pressure, is rent in pieces, and the ship it contains destroyed. Melville Bay, the vortex in which our ships are usually engulfed, is very formidable, on account of the occurrence there of such phenomena. It is quite unsheltered from the prevailing winds of the season, which fill it with the ice of the neighbouring sea; it is at the same time protected by the form of the land, from the influence of the currents, which, in the open sea and along the western shores, are ever in operation, carrying off the ice to the southward. In this bay, hopeless indeed is the case of the ship, pent up among accumulating ice, and caught by the tempest. Seamanship is utterly unavailing, the destruction of the stoutest ship is the work of a moment, and the crew is abandoned to all the miseries of a fearful climate and a snow-covered region.

It was in this bay that the Isabella and Alexander, discovery ships, were frequently in great jeopardy. Particularly, on one occasion, during a south-westerly gale, the ice was forced in upon the ships with such violence, that every support threatened to give way. The beams in the hold began to bend, the iron tanks settled together, and the Isabella was lifted up several feet; fortunately the ice receded, and she was liberated; but so violent was the gale, that her anchors and cables broke one after another, and she ran foul of the Alexander with a tremendous crash, breaking anchors and tearing away their chain-plates. In this dilemma, they perceived a field of ice bearing down on them, and a reef of icebergs fast aground on the lee. They endeavoured to saw docks in the field, but fortunately it was too thick for their longest saws, for the ships had scarce escaped when the part of the field chosen for the dock came in contact with a berg with such violence, that, notwithstanding its great thickness, it rose more than fifty feet up the icy precipice, then suddenly broke, the elevated part tumbling back with a tre