Appendix No. V
THE NAVIGATION OF THE ANTARCTIC ICE-PACK
BY
ROALD AMUNDSEN
Profiting by the accumulated experience of centuries, the arctic explorers of our day have succeeded in obtaining splendid results. Upon the lessons drawn from the experiences of the ill-fated Jeannette expedition, Nansen, to a great extent, built his plan of drifting across the polar sea. The construction of the Fram also was based upon observations made through ages. Peary is now, with unshaken energy, step by step working his way towards the north pole. Here, what aid and support does he not derive from his predecessors, the English expedition under Nares, of 1875–76, and especially from the expedition of his countryman Greely, of 1881–84, which came to such a tragic end, but which now affords the daring arctic explorer the most valuable assistance by the depot established at Fort Conger and Lady Franklin Bay! And Nature herself lends a helping hand in always leaving the line of retreat open to the arctic explorer.
The antarctic explorer, however, is forced to work under far less favourable conditions. Earlier expeditions have, indeed, tried to penetrate far south, but without leaving any material sources of help for their successors. The honour of the earliest acquaintance with the antarctic region belongs to James Cook, who, in 1774, reached as far as to 70° 10′ south latitude, where a stop was put to his progress by compact ice. In 1823 Weddell reached 74° 15′ south latitude, and in 1842 James Clark Ross made the record of farthest south when he arrived at 78° 9′ 5″ south latitude, which, as far as we know, still remains the southernmost point that has been reached.
The unexplored region around the north pole only constitutes about five million square kilometres; that around the south pole amounts to between twenty-one and twenty-two million square kilometres, or a tract of land corresponding to more than double the size of Europe.
While we have already learned about the arctic winter from the Dutchman William Barents, who passed the winter of 1596 in Nova Zembla, and from many subsequent explorers, the antarctic winter up to our time has remained but a fable. It was the Belgian Antarctic Expedition, led by the Belgian, Lieutenant Adrien de Gerlache, that brought the first information about the south polar night, after spending the winter in the antarctic pack-ice west of Grahamland in 1898–99.
Taking part in this expedition, I had daily opportunities to survey and study the ice which for nearly thirteen months formed our surroundings. It would be premature to pronounce a decided opinion as to the best way of navigating throughout the entire antarctic region according to the observations here made. In order to do that it would be necessary to have a thorough knowledge of the state of the ice in various places. The knowledge which Ross, and subsequently Kristensen, gained of the pack-ice north and east of South Victorialand, was widely different from that acquired by us of the ice west of Grahamland. Therefore, when I state my opinion below as to navigation in the antarctic ice, I do so with specific regard to the ice which stopped our progress and held us prisoners for such a long period of time.
Here it is, from the very start, quite evident to the antarctic explorer that he incurs a great risk by attacking the ice. To the south, as far as the eye can survey, he sees nothing but ice, and by experience he knows that he has to contend with a frozen ocean, agitated by storm. If his vessel should by chance be hemmed in, and possibly crushed by the ice, what ways of escape would there be open to him? The possibility of reaching land in small, open boats he certainly does not consider very great. The chance of finding human beings on new land possibly to be discovered farther south, cut off from the rest of the world by immense masses of ice, appears to be even less probable. This is, I suppose, the reason why earlier explorers have not dared to attack the ice in these regions.
It was a north-easterly gale that, on the 28th of February, 1898, forced us through the ice. Comparing this ice with that which I came across on my sealing expeditions in the arctic seas on the eastern coast of Greenland, the difference was at once apparent. While we find in the arctic ice channels and lakes several miles in length, formed by the rapid currents prevailing there, in the antarctic ice we do not find any signs of similar formations. The spaces which we found here were intermediate spaces between each separate floe of ice, broken up by the storm and carried away from its original position.
What, above all, struck me after being imprisoned in the antarctic ice was the “indolence” of the ice—that is to say, its stagnation or indisposition to move within its own bounds. That the entire main body of the ice was in lively motion soon became evident from the nautical observations, but the movements within its compass were very slight. The cause of this lack of local movement of the ice may, no doubt, be traced to the nature of the current. That currents exist here, as everywhere, is not to be doubted, but they must be very insignificant, and are surely without any importance to navigation.
From the month of December, 1898, up to March, 1899, easterly winds were predominating, and these caused a very considerable drifting of the ice. In the course of these three months we drifted in this way from about 87° longitude west of Greenwich as far as to 103°, or a distance of about 950 kilometres (this distance is calculated in a straight line on the seventy-first parallel circle). That this easterly wind, which prevailed for such a length of time and mostly with great violence, was no local wind, we can safely assume. Its place of origin was no doubt the regions around Grahamland and Alexander Islands. This gives me further cause to believe that the sea along the western coast of these countries was perfectly navigable during the months of February and March, 1899. But there is no reason whatever to suppose that this is the case every year. On the contrary, previous expeditions have always found this part of the antarctic drift-ice completely closed. We, on board of the Belgica in February, 1898, also found within the drift-ice along these countries absolutely no navigable water. If a future expedition were to choose the same region where the Belgica did its work for a field of investigation, my unqualified advice to it would be to linger for some time near the coast of these countries, awaiting a separation of the ice from the land. What a great advantage there would be in navigating alongshore! Possibly harbours might be discovered, stations built, and depots established, and one would then always have something to depend on. During our drift in the ice we never dared venture on foot so far out as to lose sight of our ship. It would be wholly different if there were regular stations from which to start the work. We could then safely proceed southward with a sleigh-boat and possibly accomplish fine results, for the antarctic ice, compared to the arctic ice which I have had a chance to observe, is much more level and even, and consequently easier to traverse.
I see a great advantage in having two vessels, but in that case it is necessary that both of them should be exactly on the same level in regard to power and outfit, as, in my opinion, the idea of taking along a so-called “auxiliary vessel,” which in some respect or other is inferior to the principal ship, is to be entirely rejected. The principal ship, in that case, might sometimes have to perform the duty of a tugboat and take the auxiliary vessel in tow. In order that two vessels of this kind should be able to make any headway in the drift-ice, they would always have to be within sight of each other, and one of them being inferior to the other, it is easy to understand that it would be more of a hindrance than a help. It would be altogether different if we could start our work from regular stations. Then one vessel might be stationed on the coast as a reserve ship while the other pressed onward; but as long as our knowledge of the antarctic regions remains so insignificant as at present, we must, in order to work with expectation of success, employ only first-class equipment, which by experience has been proved effective.
The Belgica entering the antarctic pack-ice was the first ship to make the venture on this side of the globe. Almost nothing was previously known about the character of the ice of this region. Now the situation is entirely changed.
The ice has been tried and examined, and observations have been made which may prove of invaluable service to future expeditions.