When we got down into the [Bering] Strait, we caught a glimpse of the Diomedes Islands. These look barren and inhospitable . . . As we passed between the islands and the shore, we “old hands” gathered on deck and drank the first cup to celebrate the final accomplishment of the North West Passage by ship. I had hoped to have a little festivity to mark this notable event, but weather did not permit. The event was celebrated by a simple toast, nothing more. . . . Our only hope now was that the wind would hold out till we reached Nome, and could procure a new gaff. We headed south towards Nome under trysail and any other sails we could carry. . . . Suddenly a steam launch appeared in front of us, and we heard whistling, shouting, and cheering—the American's mode of expressing enthusiasm. Dark as it was, we could still discern the Norwegian flag floating side by side with the Stars and Stripes on the launch. So we had been recognised. The reception they gave us at Nome defies my powers of description. The heartiness with which we were welcomed, the unbounded enthusiasm of which the “Gjöa” was the object, will always remain one of my brightest memories of our return. [Amundsen, Vol. 2, pp. 285, 286-287, 291, 292.]