Etwango’s homecoming

In mid-March 1887, Etwango’s sojourn in Dundee came to an end after a scant five months.

During that time, he had made “fairly good progress” in learning English.

He was “a very quiet and inoffensive man” and his behaviour had been “exemplary.” He had become a familiar figure about the city.

His friend, Capt. William Adams, had collected about 17 pounds for Etwango’s benefit with which he purchased a rifle, a shotgun and ammunition.

Many well-wishers stopped by the docks to bid him farewell and present him with gifts for himself and his family.

A minister gave him a prayer book, but unfortunately he had not learned to read English so it was of little use. He had a chest of tools and a number of knives. Mrs. Adams donated a large quantity of comforters and about 200 yards of flannel for Etwango’s wife.

The Maud made a stop in Lerwick, Shetland, to take on the rest of the necessary crew. Etwango went ashore a number of times and was as big a hit there as he had been in Dundee.

The Shetland News described him as “the Eskimo chief” when he appeared in his native garb and demonstrated the use of the kayak. For this exhibition, the esplanade was crowded with an estimated 2,000 people who watched him paddle around Victoria Pier.

He also appeared in the town hall with Capt. Adams and gave a demonstration of native songs and dances, probably the same performance he had given in Dundee. He was rewarded with even more gifts for himself and his family.

The ship then proceeded to Davis Strait, steaming up the coast of Greenland, where she took two bowhead whales and a number of walruses. Melville Bay was packed with ice, so Adams retraced part of his course and passed westward south of the pack to reach the Baffin coast.

For some days prior to his arrival, Etwango had been moody and “disconsolate.” He didn’t say why, but Adams thought he was sorry to return to the life of an Inuk after his experiences in Dundee.

Land-fast ice prevented the ship from reaching Durban Harbour, so Etwango and some shipmates travelled about 15 miles over the ice, then lit a fire as a signal to the Inuit.

Soon, a number of his fellow Inuit made their way over the ice to welcome him. While waiting for them, Etwango returned to the ship and took a nap!

Etwango and his wife shook hands unemotionally when they were reunited, but he was overjoyed to see his daughter.

His wife, although “undemonstrative” at meeting her husband, “got into transports of joy” when she saw the gifts the people of Dundee had sent out for her.

A woman in Newport had sent her a melodeon — a button accordion. To the astonishment of the ship’s crew, she lifted the instrument and played a tune familiar to them: There’s Nae Luck about the House.

This was a song that had been popular in Scotland for about a century, a tale of a sailor’s wife and her husband’s safe return from the sea.

She then surprised them even more by playing The Keel Row, a folk song originally from northern England about the lives of men who worked on the keels, large boats that carried coal from the bank of the river Tyne to waiting ships.

According to the Dundee papers, she had learned to play several tunes on the concertina when she lived in Cumberland Sound. A concertina and a melodeon are not quite the same, and the reporter may have confused the two. But it is also possible that the woman knew how to play both.

When the melodeon had been presented to Etwango in Dundee, the chairman of the meeting in Kinnaird Hall suggested that with the melodeon, Etwango’s wife “might yet cheer many a long dreary winter with sweet music.”

Etwango had also brought a supply of petticoats for the ladies of the camp: “Several of the gaudy petticoats were seized, and the women put them on above their sealskin dresses.”

According to Capt. Adams, Etwango was “an honest, hard-working, warm-hearted fellow” who had proved to be a good sailor, beloved by his crewmates. He had shown himself to be a dead shot while seal hunting. Adams thought the man’s experiences in Dundee had “given him a distaste for his former mode of life.”

Etwango pleaded with the captain to promise to take him, his wife and child back to Dundee the following year. That never happened.

The next year, Capt. Adams was once more in Davis Strait. Before heading for home at the end of the season, he stopped at Durban to check in on Etwango. He found the man in a state of “dejection.” The wife’s stepmother had moved in with them after her husband died and had been a bad influence on her stepdaughter.

“The peace which formerly reigned fled from Urio’s tent,” a report reads.

The older woman wanted to return to Cumberland Sound and while Etwango was away hunting, she convinced the younger woman to make “a moonlight flitting.”

They left for Cumberland Sound, taking with them most of the gifts Etwango had brought from Dundee.

The Dundee Advertiser gloomily reported the event: “It appears that the course of true love does not run any smoother among the Esquimaux than it does among more civilized people.”

Etwango was grief stricken and wanted to return to Dundee on the Maud, but one of his uncles convinced him to remain.

The following year, ice conditions prevented Adams from reaching Durban Harbour. Adams died the next year.

What became of Etwango is unknown. Did his wife return? Did he go back to Cumberland Sound? The record is silent.

Taissumani is an occasional column that recalls events of historical interest. Kenn Harper is a historian and writer who lived in the Arctic for over 50 years. He is the author of Give Me Winter, Give Me Dogs: Knud Rasmussen and the Fifth Thule Expedition, and Thou Shalt Do No Murder, among other books. Feedback? Send your comments and questions to kennharper@hotmail.com.