During our expedition to the interior,the harbour of Reykjavik had become populous with new arrivals.First of all,there was my old friend,the "Reine Hortense,"the Emperor's yacht,a magnificent screw corvette of 1,100tons.I had last parted with her three years ago in the Baltic,after she had towed me for eighty miles on our way from Bomarsund to Stockholm.Then there were two English screw steamers,of about 700tons each,taken up by the French Government as tenders to the yacht;not to mention a Spanish brig,and one or two other foreigners,which,together with the frigate,the barque,and the vessels we had found here on our first arrival,made the usually deserted bay look quite lively.Until this year no steamers had ever cockneyfied its secluded waters.
This morning,directly after breakfast,I went on board the "Reine Hortense"to pay my respects to Prince Napoleon;and H.I.H.has just done me the honour of coming to inspect the "Foam."When I was first presented to him at the Geysirs,he asked me what my plans might be;and on my mentioning my resolution of sailing to the North,he most kindly proposed that I should come with him West to Greenland instead.My anxiety,however,to reach,if it were possible,Jan Mayen and Spitzbergen,prevented my accepting this most tempting offer;but in the meantime,H.I.H.has,it seems,himself determined to come to Jan Mayen,and he is kind enough to say that if I can get ready for a start by six o'clock to-morrow morning,the "Reine Hortense"shall take me in tow.To profit by this proposal would of course entail the giving up my plan of riding across the interior of Iceland,which I should be very loth to do;at the same time,the season is so far advanced,the mischances of our first start from England have thrown us so far behind in our programme,that it would seem almost a pity to neglect such an opportunity of overrunning the time that has been lost;and after all,these Polar islands,which so few have visited,are what I am chiefly bent on seeing.Before I close this letter the thing will have been settled one way or another;for I am to have the honour of dining with the Prince this evening,and between this and then I shall have made up my mind.After dinner there is to be a ball on board the frigate,to which all the rank,fashion,and beauty of Reykjavik have been invited.
3A.M.
I give up seeing the rest of Iceland,and go North at once.It has cost me a struggle to come to this conclusion,but on the whole I think it will be better.Ten or fifteen days of summer-time become very precious in these latitudes,and are worth a sacrifice.At this moment we have just brought up astern of the "Reine Hortense,"and are getting our hawsers bent,ready for a start in half an hour's time.My next letter,please God,will be dated from Hammerfest.I suppose I shall be about fifteen or twenty days getting there,but this will depend on the state of the ice about Jan Mayen.If the anchorage is clear,Ishall spend a few days in examining the island,which by all accounts would appear to be most curious.
I happened first to hear of its existence from a very intelligent whaling Captain I fell in with among the Shetlands four years ago.He was sailing home to Hull,after fishing the Spitzbergen waters,and had sighted the huge mountain which forms the northern extremity of Jan Mayen,on his way south.Luckily,the weather was fine while he was passing,and the sketch he made of it at the time so filled me with amazement,that I then determined,if ever I got the chance,to go and see with my own eyes so great a marvel.Imagine a spike of igneous rock (the whole island is volcanic),shooting straight up out of the sea to the height of 6,870feet,not broad-based like a pyramid,nor round-topped like a sugar-loaf,but needle-shaped,pointed like the spire of a church.If only my Hull skipper were as good a draughtsman as he seemed to be a seaman,we should now be on our way to one of the wonders of the world.Most people here hold out rather a doleful prospect,and say that,in the first place,it is probable the whole island will be imprisoned within the eternal fields of ice,that lie out for upwards of a hundred and fifty miles along the eastern coast of Greenland;and next,that if even the sea should be clear in its vicinity,the fogs up there are so dense and constant that the chances are very much against our hitting the land.But the fact of the last French man-of-war which sailed in that direction never having returned,has made those seas needlessly unpopular at Reykjavik.
