supplies, and the blasts of chill wind caused the men to shiver in their jerkins. A band of them struggled ashore through a “great fogge” and promptly stumbled upon a large stone cross “and a man buried at the foote of it.” The sight of this had a peculiar effect on the no-nonsense Captain Pet. He suddenly
felt profoundly guilty at having sailed on without the William and carved his name onto the cross “to the end that if the William did chaunce to come thither, they might have knowledge that we had beene there.”
Captain Pet seems to have realized that he was still far from China, for he ordered his men back on board so that they could continue with their onward voyage. It soon became apparent that the Kara Sea presented a formidable challenge, even to a skillful pilot like Pet. There were numerous rocky islets, powerful rip currents, and—more alarmingly—“a very great store of ice a-seaborde.” The weather, too, had taken a turn for the worse. “Very much wind, raine and fogge,” recorded Pet, who noted that the winds either battered their vessel relentlessly or left them becalmed. But there was good news on the horizon. On August 23, at “nine in the afternoone, we had sight of the William .” To the weary and depressed crews of both ships, this meeting was a cause for celebration. Pet and Jackman were jubilant and any bad feelings were quickly forgotten. The men on the George polished up their brass instruments and proceeded to give their sister ship a lively welcome: “We sounded our trumpet, and shot off two muskets.” Pet preferred to express his gratitude in prayer: “We acknowledge this our meeting to be a great benefit of God for our mutuall comfort, and so gave His Majestie thanks for it.”
He quickly discovered that the William had made slow progress to the Kara Sea. Her sternpost had broken, her rudder was smashed, and she was having great difficulty in making headway. Mending the damaged rudder proved difficult, for the water was far too cold for the men to carry out repairs at sea. Instead, they were forced to shift all the cannon and cargo to the helm so that the stern was lifted, seesaw fashion, out of the water. The carpenters then set to work and, after a few anxious hours, completed the repairs. The William was at last able to steer again.
It was during the days that followed their unexpected meeting
that Captains Pet and Jackman were able to consider more fully their next course of action. They had serious concerns about continuing with their voyage. The wind was blowing an icy gust from the north, and the quantity of ice in the water was increasing at an alarming rate. “Windes we have had at will,” wrote Pet, “but ice and fogge too much against our willes.” Another problem was caused by their lack of information. William Borough had been able to give them sailing directions as far as Vaygach, but henceforth his advice was of limited use. “It is probable you shall finde the land on your right hand,” he had informed them, suggesting that Peking was about 400 miles away. But he admitted that he was not entirely sure.
There was very good reason to turn back, and yet the sheer excitement of sailing toward unknown lands drove these intrepid men forward. So much planning and hard work had been invested in their great enterprise that it seemed churlish not to make the attempt. Besides, they were looking forward to meeting the civilized folk of the East. Richard Hakluyt had handed them detailed instructions on how they were to conduct themselves, informing them that the Chinese and Japanese were not savages and could not be treated in the same brusque manner as was customary with African tribesmen or the barbarous “brutes” of South America. They were to be treated with deference and civility, and invited on board ship for a gracious welcome. “First,” he advised, “the sweetest perfumes [are to be] set under the hatches, to make ye place sweet.” Then, once the
Stephen E. Ambrose, Karolina Harris, Union Pacific Museum Collection