by Lynne Cox
The Fram drifted north and south within the ice pack, and Nansen’s moods followed that drift. When the Fram drifted farther north he was happy; when it drifted south, he was despondent. He tried to focus on positive things; he read books, observed the natural beauty surrounding him, and continued to take depth measurements of the ocean. During these measurements, he discovered that the deep polar basin was an area where the waters could reach up to one thousand fathoms deep. In spite of his discoveries, Nansen was restless and homesick, and his heart ached to see his wife and daughter. The slow drift wore him down to despair.
Fridtjof Nansen beside the Fram with dog skins and bearskins hanging out to dry, June 16, 1894.
Almost another year has passed. The Fram is still drifting in the Arctic Ocean with the ice into unexplored waters, but not toward the goal of the North Pole, March 1895.
Nansen did not convey these thoughts to his crew. On May 28, 1894, they reached somewhere around 81 degrees, 34 minutes north.
Nansen calculated that the ship would not drift any farther north and they would not drift over the actual North Pole. He spoke with Otto Sverdrup and with his crew. They agreed with Nansen’s new plan—Sverdrup should take charge of the expedition aboard the Fram and continue drifting, studying, and mapping the polar seas, and Nansen and Hjalmar Johansen would leave the Fram and attempt to reach the North Pole by dogsled.
On March 14, 1895, after two years of moving slowly with the ice pack, Nansen and Hjalmar Johansen left the ship. The weather was mild, only minus 41 degrees Fahrenheit, but on March 21, as they slept in a tent, the air became moist and their clothes froze and they crackled every time they moved. Nansen got frostbite, a sore opened on his wrist, and the wound grew deeper until it almost reached the bone.
The work of traveling across the ice, climbing over massive hummocks, and trudging beside the heavy sledges was exhausting. Sometimes Nansen was so tired, he fell asleep on his feet. The dogs did not always fare well, and one named Livjaegeren was the first to become ill. Nansen wrote: “This was the first dog which had to be killed; but many came afterwards, and it was some of the most disagreeable work we had on the journey” (Farthest North, 279).
The dogs endured more than the men, and Nansen reflected upon how hard Johansen had to work them to haul the sledges over the ridges of ice and how it was “undeniable cruelty to the poor animals from first to last, and one must often look back on it with horror.”
Nansen calculated that they must be around the eighty-sixth parallel. The North Pole was at 90 degrees, a distance of 240 miles. But the ice conditions grew worse. There were endless moraines, ridges of rough ice, and high, vertical hummocks that stretched to the gray horizon. Even worse, it was becoming clear to him that in spite of their fortitude and ongoing struggle to go north, they were being carried quickly south by the wind and ocean current.
On April 5, Nansen was on the verge of complete despair, but he refocused and decided to continue north for one more day, hoping conditions would improve. Instead the ice grew even worse.
On April 7, Nansen and Johansen reached 86 degrees 13.6 minutes, the farthest north that anyone had ever traveled, but on April 8, after a day of trying to make progress, they were still quickly more or less at the same place.
On April 8, 1895, Nansen realized the North Pole was not possible. He quickly reshaped his plans and changed course to head south for Cape Fligely and Franz Josef Land. First he made a special banquet for Johansen of bread and butter and chocolate, berries, and hot whey drink. They slept in their sleeping bags and in the morning they began their journey home. On April 12 both Nansen and Johansen forgot to wind their watches. Knowing the time was essential to navigation—the key to figuring out where they were and where they were heading—Nansen wrote:
The only thing I can now do to find Greenwich mean time is take a time-observation and an observation for latitude, and then estimate the approximate distance from our turning-point on April 8th when I took the last observation for longitude. By this means the error will hardly be great. (Farthest North, 290)
Sigurd Scott Hansen, Fridtjof Nansen, and Otto Neumann Sverdrup aboard the Fram, drifting in endless days and nights of light, June 16, 1894.
Fridtjof Nansen and Hjalmar Johansen leave the comparative warmth and safety of the Fram and head out into the frozen and unknown world with the hope of reaching the North Pole.
By June 14 they had been traveling for three months. It was a monotonous life, dull and depressing, but on June 22 Johansen sighted a bearded seal in open water. Nansen harpooned it and they ate the meat. They began to feel better. They climbed into the kayaks they had been carrying on their sledges and loaded the three dogs and provisions, then balanced the sledges on the kayaks and paddled into open water.
Finally, on July 24, Nansen and Johansen saw land, but they had no idea where they were. They pulled their kayaks ashore, hunted walrus and polar bears, cached the meat immediately, and built a hut from stones. They hung walrus skin from a log, and, for warmth, they slept in one sleeping bag, hibernating up to twenty hours a day. Thoughts of home kept them going.
Months later, when the world thawed again, they resumed their journey. They camped on many unexplored islands and continued paddling beside the ice. On June 12, after an entire day paddling in leaky kayaks, they climbed onto the ice to stretch their legs. Suddenly Nansen noticed that the kayaks were drifting away. Nansen ran to the ice edge, tore off his watch and clothing, dove into the icy water, swam as fast as he could go, and tried to get ahold of the kayaks. On board was everything they needed to survive. Nansen realized they were drifting away faster than he could swim. His arms and legs lost feeling. He became extremely tired. He rolled on his back and swam backstroke. He got a second wind and grabbed a snowshoe on the kayak’s stern.
Nansen managed to get a leg into the kayak and climbed on. The kayaks were tied together, so Nansen had to, with great difficulty, step into one kayak and take a few strokes, and then step into the other and paddle on the other side to keep them on course. He dragged them both to shore. By the time he reached Johansen he was suffering from severe hypothermia. Johansen stripped off Nansen’s wet clothes, spread the sleeping bag on the ice, and covered Nansen with everything he could find to get him warm. Nansen shivered for a long time, but gradually he rewarmed.
Nansen and Johansen continued paddling, and on June 17 they landed on another island. Nansen decided to go for a hike and explore the island; he thought he heard a dog bark and a man’s voice. He caught sight of the man. It was Frederick Jackson, the leader of the Royal Geographical Society’s Jackson-Harmsworth Arctic expedition. Jackson and his crew had been exploring Franz Josef Land. He invited Nansen and Johansen to be his guests, and when the Windward came to pick up some of Jackson’s crew, Nansen and Johansen sailed with them. On August 13, 1896, they arrived in Norway, and eight days later, Nansen read a telegram from Otto Sverdrup: “Fridtjof Nansen: Fram arrived in good condition. All well on board. Shall start at once for Tromsø. Welcome home! Otto Sverdrup.”
Nansen read the telegram over and over again before he could believe it was true, and, he wrote, “and then there came a strange, serene happiness over my mind such as I had never known before.” And on September 9 the Fram with all her crew sailed up Christiania Fjord, and they were given an unforgettable welcome home.
CHAPTER 5
Caves of Death
For two years, Amundsen endured medical school, but when he was twenty-one, his mother passed away. He was relieved that he no longer had to fulfill her wishes and dropped out of the university, but he had one further obligation, that of serving in the military. Amundsen was eager to do so; he believed that the military training would prepare him for life. Because his military service was limited to a few weeks per year, in his free time Amundsen decided to do an Arctic training exercise with his brother Leon as a way to prepare for future polar exploration. This first outing nearly killed both of them.
They skied west of C
hristiania to the Hardangervidda mountain plateau, four thousand feet high. The plateau extended to Bergen, and there were only two safe trails. In winter, the area was completely deserted. Amundsen was just twenty-two, and his big dreams did not match his level of experience.
Amundsen and Leon skied to the Mogen farmhouse, and the family was surprised to see them. No one ever traveled there at that time of the year. Amundsen planned to leave first thing in the morning, but a blizzard that lasted eight days forced them to stay until the weather improved. The family tried to discourage the two skiers from leaving, but they were set on making the attempt.
They believed they would achieve their goal in two days. They severely underestimated the time it would take and the food and equipment they would need. As they skied across the plateau, each man carried a reindeer sleeping bag on his back. They didn’t think of bringing a tent. They had only a few crackers, some chocolate, butter, and a small amount of alcohol. For navigation, they carried a pocket compass and a map of the area. They didn’t realize they were unprepared.
The plateau was flat and white, with no distinct landmarks. At twilight, about halfway across the plateau, they found a reindeer herder’s hut, but the hut had been boarded up for winter. The air temperature began to drop to minus 10 degrees Fahrenheit. They worked quickly to open the hut and start a fire in the fireplace, but both got severe frostbite on their fingers. They managed to light a fire, but the ventilation was poor, and the room filled with smoke, making it difficult to breathe and to see.
In the morning the storm hadn’t abated, and they were forced to stay there for a couple of days. When it stopped snowing, they decided to continue on to the Garden farmhouse, toward the west coast where they could ski down from the plateau.
A heavy wet snow began falling and turned their map to pulp. They could only navigate by compass. When it grew dark, they crawled into their sleeping bags, placed their provisions at the bottom of the bags, and planted their poles beside the sleeping bags as markers.
The blizzard continued all night, and the snow melted on their bodies and saturated their sleeping bags. Amundsen tried to find his bottle of alcohol in his bag. He believed that it would help restore his circulation, but if he had found and drunk the alcohol, he would have put himself in more danger. His body had reduced the blood flow to his extremities, and it had moved the blood to his core to keep his vital organs warm. Drinking the alcohol would have caused the blood to move from his body’s core to its exterior. This might have made him feel warmer, but it would have caused him to lose heat more quickly and possibly have caused his death.
When it grew light, Amundsen and Leon decided to turn around and get back to the farmhouse as quickly as possible, but it began to snow so hard that they could only see a couple of feet in front of them. But they kept moving, and by night they reached a small mountain peak where they decided to sleep in the protection of the mountain. Amundsen built a snow cave a little larger than his body.
He crawled in headfirst. During the night, the snow melted around his feet, and later in the evening, the temperature dropped, and the water froze across the opening of the cave. Amundsen woke up, but he couldn’t move. He realized he was frozen in place. He started shouting at the top of his lungs, but Leon couldn’t hear him. He began to panic. He wondered if they both were frozen in snow caves that had become snow coffins.
Amundsen heard Leon shouting. Fortunately, his brother had been too exhausted to build a snow cave himself. He dug for hours and finally in the middle of the night freed Amundsen. Neither of them could sleep. They decided to use the stars to guide them.
For a couple of hours they made progress, but Amundsen’s brother suddenly disappeared. He fell into a precipice. He had landed on his back on his sleeping bag, and Amundsen managed to pull him out. They decided to wait until dawn to resume their march.
By morning, Leon was too exhausted to move. Amundsen left him and went for help. Amundsen noticed some ski tracks and followed them, and then he spotted a man in the distance. He shouted to the peasant farmer he had stayed with eight days before, and the peasant thought he had seen a ghost. The farmhouse was only an hour away, and so he returned to find Leon and bring him back.
When they reached the farmhouse they were greeted like strangers. It wasn’t until Amundsen looked into a mirror that he recognized how much he had changed. His eyes and cheeks had sunken into his face, and his skin was a yellowish green.
A year later, Amundsen learned that the farmer who owned the farmhouse on the western edge of the plateau had noticed some ski tracks that headed toward his farm. Amundsen realized the tracks were theirs. At one point, they had been ten minutes from the farmhouse.
Amundsen’s misadventure was one of the most important events to happen to him. It instilled in him the need to be prepared before he ever went into the polar environment again.
CHAPTER 6
Belgica
Amundsen began to develop the skills he needed to attempt the Northwest Passage. He worked on board the Jason, a sealing ship, for three summers from 1894 to 1896. In the relentlessly rough, ice-filled waters of the Arctic Ocean, he began to learn how to sail and navigate, and he started to earn his skipper’s license.
In all the research Amundsen had done, he discovered that one flaw in every Arctic expedition was that the commander of the expedition was not the ship’s captain. The commanders of the expeditions almost always depended upon experienced skippers to navigate and sail their ships. The problem that occurred and recurred was that the expedition team had two different leaders. And as a result there were always divisions within the expedition, with one group—the expedition leader and scientific staff—on one side, and the captain of the ship and his crew on the other.
He was convinced that he needed to be both captain of his ship and the leader of the expedition when he set out on the Northwest Passage attempt. He worked to hone his sailing skills.
During that same time, in the summer of 1895, while Amundsen was on board the Jason in the Arctic Ocean, Lieutenant Adrien de Gerlache, of the Belgian navy, was sailing with his friend Lieutenant Emile Danco to the east in the Greenland Sea. They were testing out the Castor, a whaling ship, to see if it would be a suitable ship for an expedition to Antarctica.
Adrien de Gerlache was planning the first scientific expedition to Antarctica, called the Belgian Antarctic Expedition, to study the South Magnetic Pole, to make astronomical observations, and to chart unexplored lands and waters. What fascinated most explorers was the South Magnetic Pole, a migrating point on the earth’s surface near the geographic South Pole. This was an area where it became impossible to use a magnetic compass for navigation. This meant that when explorers entered the areas around the South Magnetic Pole and geographic South Pole, they couldn’t use the compass to tell them where they were or where they were going.
In areas that were mapped, the charts allowed the polar explorers to navigate with reference to the geographic North or South Pole, and the difference between the direction to the magnetic pole and the geographic pole is known as a variation.
In any case, a compass needle will align itself with the “local” magnetic force, a combination of the horizontal and vertical effects of the earth’s magnetic field. In the polar regions the magnetic variation can reach 180 degrees, which means the compass can point in the opposite direction from the true geographic pole. This made navigation in Antarctica tremendously difficult and dangerous. Often the explorers didn’t know where they were going, especially in the fog. The explorers hoped that by understanding how the earth’s magnetism worked, especially in polar waters and on polar lands, navigation would be made safer.
During the time de Gerlache was testing the Cantor in the Greenland Sea to find out if it was suitable for the expedition, he noticed the Patria, sailing offshore. He immediately realized that the Patria would be a far better vessel for the expedition, and the following year he purchased it. He rechristened the ship the Belgica, and he
had the ship refitted in the shipyard in Sandefjord, Norway. Amundsen had returned from his training in the Arctic and heard about de Gerlache’s expedition to Antarctica. He immediately wrote asking if de Gerlache needed another sailor.
De Gerlache knew of Fridtjof Nansen and Nils Adolf Erik Nordenskiöld, the scientist who had sailed along the coast of Siberia in the Vega. De Gerlache was very aware that Scandinavians were tremendous athletes, scholars, inventors, designers, and scientists. He recognized that Scandinavian sailors were also known as terrific navigators and sailors in polar seas. De Gerlache checked Amundsen’s references and accepted him as a second officer on the Belgica. Amundsen was thrilled. He knew that the expedition would give him the experience to get closer to realizing his own dreams, but he had no idea how much he would be tested or how much he would learn.
Amundsen is thrilled to have Nansen visit the Belgica before departing from Sanderfjord, June 26, 1897. From left: Adrien de Gerlache (probably), Fridtjof Nansen, Frederick Cook(?), Henryk Arctowski(?), Roald Amundsen, and three unidentified men.
On June 24, 1897, the Belgica sailed out of Sandefjord for Antwerp. Fridtjof Nansen made a special trip to Sandefjord to bid the crew of the Belgica bon voyage.
De Gerlache had gathered financial support from a number of sources: businesses, the scientific community, and the Belgian people. He also had found, interviewed, and pulled together a crew of twenty-three men, including officers, engineers, and scientists from Belgium, France, Norway, Poland, and Romania. But there were loose ends. At the last moment, the ship’s doctor decided not to join the expedition; that, as it turned out, was a good thing. De Gerlache would find a far more experienced physician, one who would play a major role in de Gerlache’s survival and that of his crew.
The Belgica sailed out of Ostend, Belgium, on August 16 but was forced to return the next day due to damage to the engine. They set off a second time on August 22. From Ostend, they made a brief stop in Madera, Spain, and then sailed across the Atlantic to Rio de Janeiro in fifty-two days, and in Rio they picked up Frederick Cook, a physician from Brooklyn, New York, who replaced the doctor who had decided not to join the expedition.
