104 THE LAST CRUISE OF THE CARNEGIE 



miles wide, glittered in the sun like an enormous heliograph. 

 For some mysterious reason, the sight of it suggested a shower- 

 bath on deck. The pump was started, and several of the party 

 braved the cold salt-water and icy wind. The copper stove was 

 set up in the cabin, serving to dry out our clothes and to keep the 

 quarters more comfortable. 



Once we had sighted the entrancing coast, no mere head-wind 

 could discourage us from paying a visit. So day after day we wore 

 ship and tacked against the westerlies. Every time we closed 

 in on the pitiless coast, mist or rain would shut down on us, while 

 there were also strong currents to contend with. All this made 

 navigation hazardous. After we had averaged only sixty miles 

 a day for five days, and not always in the desired direction. Cap- 

 tain Ault became disgusted. He announced his intention of head- 

 ing down to St. John's, Newfoundland, on the following day if 

 conditions did not improve. But our little engine kept bravely 

 at its task, and the next morning found us well up in Faxe Bay, 

 having rounded the point unawares in the gloom. 



Not the least of the dangers encountered along this coast had 

 been the erratic behavior of the compass. There are masses of 

 subterranean magnetic materials which cause local deviations 

 of many degrees. With the poor visibility often met with, one 

 is almost forced to rely on his compass, so that an accurate mag- 

 netic variation-chart is nowhere more essential than on a coast 

 like this. It was for these charts that the Carnegie was busy 

 making observations. The whole southern coast is strewn with 

 wrecks. Many of them must have come to grief through too 

 implicit reliance on the compass-needle. So treacherous are 

 the waters, that at every small cove or beach the government 

 has established caches of food, clothing, and water, for ship- 

 wrecked mariners. 



Our entrance to Reykjavik was uneventful except for the annoy- 

 ing drizzle and rain-squalls that intermittently hid our landmarks. 

 Heavily laden trawlers passed us from time to time, wallowing 

 miserably in the choppy seas. One wave after another would 

 sweep their decks, while our buoyancy was such that we bobbed 

 up and down like the sea-gulls around us. A few of the party 



