Nelson in the Arctic. Polar bears, geese, and filled breeches.

The air is never free from isicles… myriads of shining particles that sparkle like diamonds.

In 1773, aged fifteen, Nelson went to the Arctic. Boys weren’t usually allowed to go on such expeditions, “as of no use”. The expedition leader Captain Luttwidge knew uncle Maurice, and Nelson “begged”. Nothing could prevent him from “using every interest”. Seeing Nelson’s “ardent desire for going”, Luttwidge agreed.¹ Patronage wasn’t merely for helping relatives, but finding and encouraging future leaders with the right qualities. This seems like an interlude in Nelson’s early life, but it gets far more space in his brief autobiography than many other events. He remained friendly with Luttwidge for decades and clearly saw the expedition as an important step in his career.

Two ships, Racehorse and Carcass were set to sail across the polar regions to make scientific observations, and to try and find a navigable route over the pole which would reduce the length of trading journeys. We know very little of what happened to Nelson on this voyage—no-one knew he would turn out to be Horatio Nelson, after all—but we do have several first-hand accounts of the journey, including one from the ship Nelson was on (Carcass).

The ships departed on 21st April and went to Woolwich to get supplies. They then sailed north to Shetland. As they went north, the fog got so thick the two crews couldn’t see each other: they had to “fire guns, volleys of small cannon, beat drums, sound horns and trumpets, and frequently toll our bell” to avoid the ships colliding. In Shetland the locals came aboard and got drunk, astonished at these huge man-of-war ships, the likes of which they had never seen before. For one shilling, midshipman Thomas Floyd wrote, you could buy as much fish there as would cost ten guineas in London.² As they left, the fog was so thick it “approached total darkness.”³

At Spitzbergen, now known as Svalbard, the Arctic island, members of that other ship rode over, also having not seen a man-of-war up there before. On being told they were heading for the North Pole, the captain “shook his head, and told us no such thing was possible… He likewise told us that the ice was worse, and had done more damage, this year than he ever knew before.” A few weeks earlier, a whaler had been crushed. In the six weeks his ship had been sailing, only six days had been without fog. The expedition carried on, seals bobbing beside their ships, three whales spotted further off.⁴ As they went north the nights were cold and the days were cloudy. It was “piercing cold” and the rain froze as it fell. The weather changed constantly, even in a single day: “cold, variable, thick fog, fresh breezes, clear, squally, calm with sleet and snow.”⁵

That was the end of June. Ice began floating past the ship. A roaring noise, like “a large surf beating on the shore” came from up ahead. Two hours later, the fog cleared and two hundred yards away they saw the ice “like a huge continent of land covered with snow.” They turned as quickly as they could. Another two minutes of fog and they would have sailed into the ice and been cut to pieces “as there was more than a little swell.” As soon as they were clear of the ice, the fog descended again.⁶

The pieces of ice they struck got larger. Floyd’s ship Racehorse was struck so hard it nearly collided with Carcass. Soon the ice “jammed us all round.” As it broke, the ice sounded like thunder, but the ship avoided being crushed. It took until one a.m. for them to clear the ice enough to allow a breeze to carry them away.⁷

At Dutch Vogel Sound, the ship’s astronomer Dr. Irvine walked up to the top of a hill with his barometer. They later learned that a Dutchmen who had walked up there had “sunk in the snow and perished!” Cracks and cavities extended beneath the white cover, sudden drops from which no man would return. As they left the sound, all they could see to the north was ice. The weather was sleet and thick snow. By July 25th they reached Deer-field. It was so foggy the ships couldn’t see each other. By the time it cleared, two days later, they were well into the ice. Seeing sea-horses (seals), some men, including Floyd, took a row-boat to go and look at them. A large one was spotted and “approaching cautiously, we fired.” The seal was wounded and slipped into the sea. Moments later, the animal resurfaced with several other seals and they all began attacking the boat. One of them took an oar. Had the Carcass not sent a boat to assist them, the men would likely have been capsized. Back on land, they shot a reindeer for food. Their all-night absence caused much anxiety on Racehorse.⁸

In early August, both ships were surrounded by ice. They had been told by some experienced seamen that “the ice rises out of the sea sometimes as high as mountains.”⁹ They tried to break through, but failed, and had to anchor to a piece of ice eight yards thick. The ice kept closing in, squeezing together and rising up. They tried to cut a passage through the ice, but in places it was twelve feet deep. An expedition was sent to look for water, but after walking eight and a half miles, they still had miles to go before they could reach water.¹⁰

As the ice was rising, so was the risk of being crushed or running aground as the drift carried them towards rocks. There was talk of unloading both ships. Bags of bread and beef were prepared. A sail was cut into belts so the men could drag the supplies. Fatigued, they worked day and night. Another exploration set out.