IN A remote, uninhabited corner of the globe, far above the Arctic Circle, lies an ice covered body of water, which recalls the name of a Hampshire schoolboy.

Located between Devon Island and Baffin Island, forming the eastern entrance to the Parry Channel and the Northwest Passage is Lancaster Sound, known by the native Inuit people as Qikiqtaaluk (CORRECT).

Encased by impenetrable ice for most of the year Lancaster Sound is a wild, isolated part of northern Canada which perpetuates the name of Sir James Lancaster, who was educated at Basingstoke Grammar School back in the 16th century.

Sir James , pictured below, was one of the most daring of Elizabethan adventurers, soldiers and traders yet little is known about his early days except that they were spent in Hampshire where he attended the school he would later endow.

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His name is also remembered for his pioneering work in maintaining the health and well-being of the sailors who crewed the vessels he commanded.

No one knows anything about his parents, and he seems to have made a dramatic appearance in this country from Portugal just in time to take part in the defeat of the Armada.

When Lancaster received his education at Basingstoke is not at all clear, but presumably it was before he went to Portugal.

Reports of his daring must have leaked across the ocean to Elizabeth’s admirals, for the moment he arrived in this country they showed no hesitation in giving him the command of a 300 ton merchantman, called “Edward Bonaventure”, and took his orders from the great Sir Francis Drake.

Daily Echo: The Edward Bonaventure.

After the Spanish ships scattered before the English attack, Lancaster, in command of the same ship, set sail on a voyage of adventure to the Far East to establish trade in the East Indies. With him went two other ships, Penelope and Merchant Royal.

A man needed to be a stout hero indeed to venture on such a voyage in those rough days. Perils beset him on every side; unexplored seas, sickness and storms, but the worst of these was illness.

Scurvy, that dreaded enemy of Elizabethan sailors, was a certainty and the mortality rate was appalling, but times were tough and there was always the lure of plunder.

The three small vessels left on April 10, 1591, and for nearly a month they were becalmed in the Doldrums, and while they swayed gently on those glassy waters the men were gripped by agonies of scurvy. Many died, and when in August they crawled into Table Bay, South Africa, the ship, Merchant Royal was forced to turn about for home, bearing with her the worst cases. Out of a total of 300 men, they could not only muster 198.

The two remaining ships pressed on but during a terrible storm Penelope went down with all hands, while Edward Bonaventure just managed to sail on alone, despite the battering she had received.

A week later she ran into another storm, worse even than the first and the ship was struck by lightning and many of her crew killed or injured.

Imagine the terror – the tiny ship battling against the elements, with her dead and dying on board but not only didshe survived to reach the Indian Ocean where Lancaster attempted to seek shelter in the Comoro Islands.

Here a new danger awaited her crew, for instead of a friendly welcome, they were confronted by hostile natives and in the resulting fight 30 seafarers were killed, before the vessel could escape and take ook refuse in Zanzibar.

Finally, a further four months later, Lancaster reached his destination in Penang.

The next port of call appears to have been Sri Lanka and it was here the long-suffering crew decided enough was enough and, putting a pistol to their captain’s head, demanded he sail for home immediately.

After that he certainly set a westerly course but he and his wretched men were destined for further adventures.

Whether by accident or design or accident it is not clear, but the ship put into the island of Mona, Puerto Rico, where Lancaster went ashore only to see his vessel set sail leaving him stranded ashore.

Eventually Bonaventure returned to the UK with just five men and a boy on board, while Lancaster made it home by hitching a lift on a passing French vessel.

In the years that followed Lancaster went on further adventurers returning with his cargo holds bursting with plunder.

On one of his missions his crew once again fell victim of scurvy and Lancaster made up his mind to do everything possible to help his sailors.

He ordered a consignment of lemons to be taken on board his ships, and had the men dosed with three spoonfuls of their juice every morning.

The idea was excellent, but medical men of that time dismissed the treatment and it would be another century before lemons were used as an antidote for scurvy.

In the years that followed, the adventurer put his maritime knowledge at the service of the explorer, William Baffin.

He in turn repaid him by naming the Canadian sound after Lancaster, who died in 1618.

By the end of his life Lancaster had become a rich man and his wealth was left to charity, including his old school in Basingstoke.