August 13—The weather continues fair and the ice light, although it is heavier up against the Somerset coast. We progress west some ten or twelve miles off land, which is much different from the cliffs we have seen recently. To be sure, there are some cliffs but not of the same uniformity. Altogether the land hereabouts is more hilly, in keeping with its namesake, but of course the hills are much higher and there is no grass nor any of the apple orchards for which that delightful county of Somerset is so justly renowned. I would be no where else at this moment; yet to sit with you beneath an old oak and sample some cold roast duck and a glass of cool cider, would be most pleasant! But we are well looked after; bread and biscuits are baked in ovens whenever the weather permits and the meat is of good quality. Our canned supplies, provided by the contract with Goldner’s Patent Preserved Meats, are not so good and some have been found leaking their contents already. I suspect this is
July 26— Today around noon we were met by a whaler, the Prince of Wales out of Hull, with Captain Dannet commanding. We exchanged pleasantries and offered an invitation to supper on board but, unfortunately for our social agenda, a favourable wind came up (favourable for the whaler), and Captain Dannet felt he could not let it go so we parted company. Our island of ice has become quite homey with our observation huts scattered over it and men walking everywhere for exercise, but I wish for a fair wind to speed us on our way also.
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