80 REPORT OF COMMISSIONER OF FISH AND FISHERIES. 
able there, but they push across to Point Barrow as soon as the ice 
opens enough to permit them to go eastward. 
Prom the time of entering the Arctic until Point Barrow is reached, 
generally about August 1, the chief occupation (it is considered a pas. 
time) is hunting walrus, immense herds of which are sometimes met 
with on the ice floes, particularly near Cape Serdze-Kamen. This 
period of six or seven weeks is called “between seasons” or the “sum- 
mer season,” and unless walrus are found it is generally devoid of 
profit or excitement. Occasionally whales are met with and in some 
seasons many have been taken in the western Arctic. 
The Arctic season, properly speaking, is from the middle of August 
to the first of October, for during this time nearly all whales are cap- 
tured. What with the frequent hairbreadth escapes of ships and men 
from dangers that beset them in ice, fogs, etc., and the adventures met 
with in killing whales, this is a period filled with excitement. 
Aldrich gives the following graphic account of his recent experience 
on a whale ship while on a passage from San Francisco to the Arctic 
ocean : 
“ Blow !” u Mow /” came down from the crow’s nest late one afternoon after we had 
for days tacked this way and that on the lookout for whales, and incidentally also for 
“leads” through the ice pack, for we were in Bering Sea. It had been along passage 
from San Francisco ; not a sail had we seen for 52 days. No wonder, then, that we 
rejoiced when suddenly five sails hove in sight. But this spasm was overshadowed 
by a new excitement. It was a whale— the first whale! Every man was electrified. 
The boats were made ready to <f lower away,” but the whale was in too much haste to 
wait to be caught, and disappeared in the ice. 
* * # * * * # 
On the evening of the 28th of May a sail was sighted at the south and in the morn- 
ing there were six more. We recognized them as part of the fleet that had gone 
eastward in hopes of getting north along the Alaskan coast. They had found the 
solid ice-pack as far south as St. Paul’s Island, so returned. With them came news 
from ships at the south, the two chief items being that twenty-one whales had been 
caught and that the Stamboul had been stove, not so seriously, however, but that she 
could be repaired. 
This was the slowest getting anywhere I had ever experienced. On the 1st day of 
May we were 100 miles below Cape Navarin. A week later we were off the Cape. 
Then we pressed forward and went perhaps 50 miles, but only to be beset in the pack 
and remain 3 days without moving a ship’s length, except as the current carried us. 
Then a northwesterly gale carried us back below Cape Thaddeus. Four or 5 days 
later the ice opened sufficiently to allow of making an attempt to work northward, 
and in 2 weeks we had only gone about 100 miles. During these 2 weeks we had sailed 
north and drifted south, sailed south and drifted north; in fact, gone in every direc- 
tion. One current carried us to within 60 miles of Anadir River, while another car- 
ried us off to the eastward. Finally the current settled down to a general northerly 
flow and carried us in a northerly direction at the rate of from 2 to 12 miles a day. 
Local currents occasionally interfered. Thus the 1st day of June each ship lay tied 
up to a big cake of ice, and of the vessels nearest us, the Hidalgo, which was east- 
southeast in the morning, was carried to south by east by night. The Abram Barker 
was carried from north by east to northeast by north, and the Northern Light from 
west half north to southwest by west. 
To be bothered like this is an everyday experience to an Arctic whaleman, and it 
