The Arctic Gentleman - Day 468

The Arctic Gentleman

by Edmund “Potty” Pottsly-Bing

Day 468

I awoke to the sounds of the hull timbers cracking under the strain of the converging ice sheets. Wilson was standing beside my bunk lighting the seal blubber lamp. “I regret to inform you, sir, that the Earl-Grey has run out.”. “Then what is this?”, I asked, receiving the tea cup from him. “I took the liberty of trading some of the unwearable cravats with mister Han. I received a black tea of Chinese origin, sir.”. “Well, I guess that’s what these expeditions are all about, sitting around, stuck in the ice, and running out of things.”. “It would seem so, sir.”

I sat there in bed, eating my breakfast, a sorry affair after more than a year in the Arctic. Ship’s biscuit, some grilled seal meat, Wilson’s spiced pate of seal and strawberry preserve, A meager feast indeed.

Wilson returned for the remains of breakfast and informed me that my bath was drawn and my hunting clothes were laid out on the stand. Today Pee-Wee and I were going on the ice to bag some more game for the crew. In these parts, game meant seal, there wasn’t much else around.

I bathed and quickly dressed. Wool undergarments, thick cotton shirt, muslin collar, regimental tie (9th Lancers), then a wool sweater, and a good layer of Scottish tweed all around. Finally, with some difficulty owing to my layered attire, Wilson helped me dress my stout riding boots.

“You’re not going out like that are you?”, asked Pee-Wee when I met him in the wardroom. “We’ll have to cut off another toe for sure.”. “See here Pee-Wee, I can’t very well go around dressed in ragged furs like some Welsh hermit.”. “Well, at least wear the fur boots, those hussars are great for Hyde park, but you’ll need more up here, as you well know.”

We donned our many hats, gloves, mittens and scarfs and went out on deck. I added the furry boots to my attire after reconsidering my black left toe. We were met on deck by four of the men who would accompany us. They shouldered the gear and we shuffled down the plank and off across the frozen waste.

We marched to the South East looking for the holes in the ice that the seals use to breathe. The ice had thickened since our last exploration so that we were forced to walk many miles further than before. Eventually we started to encounter the tell tale holes, and then at about 1500 yards distant, we sighted two seals enjoying the sun. I extended my arm and motioned to the man carrying my Martini-Henry mark 4. I pulled two rounds from my jacket, chambered one and held the other in my teeth. I sat down, took aim and fired. I had the second round chambered, before the sound startled the second beast. I lead him by a foot assuming he would start forward and managed to catch him through the heart as well.

“Good show, Potty!”, enthused Pee-Wee. We walked over to the two beasts and had a scotch whilst the men butchered the meat. “Next time you put together an expedition, Pee-Wee, what say we go to Africa? The game here is awfully monotonous.” “I thought of that, but its all explored out. You have your Lander, your Livingston, your Burton. There’s bugger all left to find I’d say. No, if you want to make a name in the exploring business, the north is where its at.” “If only there were some sort of arctic horse we could ride.”, I mused, “Instead of all of this waddling about in snow shoes.” “Afraid not, old sport, I looked into that, about the biggest thing they have here are dogs and none of them are big enough to ride.”

30 March 2007 | General B.S. | Comments