Jules Verne's Captain Hatteras - Part 2: Ice Desert

Chapter 10 - Overwintering Pleasures

Life at the pole was a sad uniformity. Man is fully subject to the vagaries of the climate, which continually brings back intense storms and colds, with a desperate monotony. Most of the time, it is impossible to get out and you have to stay between the four walls of your ice hut. This is how the long months pass, and those who winter live a real mole life.

The next day, the thermometer dropped a few degrees and the atmosphere filled with whirlwinds of snow, which absorbed all the light of day. The doctor was therefore locked in the house, arms folded; all he had to do was clean the entrance hallway, which could become clogged, every hour, and polish the ice walls, which were dampened by the inner heat; but the ice house was built very solidly, and the whirlpools strengthened its strength, increasing the thickness of the walls.

The warehouses were also well maintained. All the objects brought from the ship had been arranged, in the greatest order, in these "supply docks", as the doctor called them. Although these warehouses were only sixty paces from home, on some days of drifting, it was almost impossible to reach them; so a certain amount of supplies always had to exist in the kitchen for daily necessities.

Precautions for unloading "Porpoise" had been opportune. He was subjected to a slow, imperceptible, but irresistible pressure, which crushed him slowly; it was obvious that nothing of his remains could be made. However, the doctor still hoped to be able to carve a boat out of them, to return to England; but the time had not yet come to begin its construction.

So, most of the time, the five winterers were in a deep inactivity. Hatteras remained thoughtful, laid on his bed; Altamont drank or slept, and the doctor didn't rush to get them out of this sleepiness, because he always feared some tense discussion.

These two people talked to each other very rarely.

That is why, during meals, the prudent Clawbonny always made sure to coordinate the conversation and direct it in such a way that no personal pride came into play; but he had much to do to divert these susceptibilities. He sought, as far as possible, to instruct, to distract, but still to arouse the interest of his comrades; when he did not put his travel notes in order, he expounded aloud the subjects of history, geography or meteorology that arose from the situation in question; present things in a pleasant and philosophical way, drawing positive lessons from the smallest incidents; his inexhaustible memory never left him; he applied his teachings to those present; he reminded them of this fact produced in this situation and supplemented his theories by the force of personal arguments.

It can be said that this worthy man was the soul of this small world, a soul from which radiated feelings of sincerity and justice. His comrades had absolute confidence in him; he commanded respect even from Captain Hatteras, who, in fact, loved him; he used his words, manners, and habits so well that the lives of these five men abandoned at six degrees of pole seemed perfectly normal; when the doctor spoke, they seemed to be listening to him in his office from Liverpool.

And yet, how different this situation was from that of the shipwrecked on the islands of the Pacific Ocean, those Robinsons whose astonishing story always envied readers. There, indeed, the fertile soil, the opulent nature offered thousands of varied resources; in these beautiful countries a little imagination and work were enough to ensure your material happiness; nature was given to man; hunting and fishing were enough for all his needs; the trees grew for him, the caves opened to shelter him, the rivers flowed to satisfy his thirst, the magnificent thickets protected him against the sun's warmth and the terrible cold never threatened him during the gentle winters; every seed thrown at random on this fruitful soil brought a harvest a few months later. It was about absolute fulfillment outside society. And then, those wonderful islands, those generous lands were in the way of ships; the shipwrecked could always hope to be found, so they waited patiently until they were torn from their happy existence.