CHAPTER XV
Austrian expedition, 1871.—Payer and Weyprecht.—The Tegetthoff adrift in the Polar pack.—Discovery of Franz Josef Land.—Payer’s sledge journeys.—Payer’s farthest 82° 5´ north latitude.—Cape Fligely.—Abandonment of the Tegetthoff.—Retreat of officers and crew.—Picked up by Russian fishermen.—“Home.”
AUSTRIAN ARCTIC VOYAGES
Having gained much distinction for his valuable services in the second German expedition, Lieutenant Payer was resolved to continue in the path of polar discovery. The following year, in company with his colleague and friend, Lieutenant Weyprecht of the Austrian-Hungarian Navy, he equipped the Norwegian schooner Isbjorn and examined the edge of the ice between Spitzbergen and Nova Zembla, reaching 78° 43´ north latitude, and 42° 30´ east longitude, on the 1st of September, 1871.
The zealous endeavours of Payer and Weyprecht succeeded in calling into existence a still larger Austrian expedition in 1872. Their plan was to select a route by the north end of Nova Zembla with a view to making the Northeast Passage.
“Weyprecht was to command the ship, Tegetthoff, while Lieutenant Payer was to conduct the sledge parties. The Tegetthoff sailed from Bremerhaven June 13, 1872, bearing in her course to Tromsoe. Her equipment was liberal and carefully selected, the total expense of the expedition amounting to £18,333. The officers and crew numbered twenty-four souls.
“Delayed by storms among the Loffoden Isles, they did not reach Tromsoe until July 3. Ten days later the Tegetthoff turned her prow to the north; the Norwegian coast with its many glaciers was in full view on July 16, North Cape loomed in the blue distance. By July 25, while in lat. 74° 0´ 15´´ N., the ice was sighted; proceeding with careful navigation through opens in the frozen ocean, the ship moved in her course until the end of August, when she became beset near Cape Nassan, at the northern end of Nova Zembla, having just parted with the Isbjorn near Barentz Isle, where Count Wilczek was placing supplies for their possible retreat.”
“Ominous were the events of that day,” writes Payer, “for immediately after we had made fast the Tegetthoff to that floe, the ice closed in upon us from all sides and we became close prisoners in its grasp. No water was to be seen around us, and never again were we destined to see our vessel in water. Happy is it for men that inextinguishable hope enables them to endure all the vicissitudes of fate, which are to test their powers of endurance, and that they can never see, at a glance, the long series of disappointments in store for them! We must have been filled with despair, had we known that evening that we were henceforward doomed to obey the caprices of the ice, that the ship would never again float on the waters of the sea, that all the expectations with which our friends, but a few hours before, saw the Tegetthoff steam away to the north, were now crushed; that we were in fact no longer discoverers, but passengers against our will on the ice. From day to day, we hoped for the hour of our deliverance! At first we expected it hourly, then daily, then from week to week; then at the seasons of the year and changes of the weather, then in the chances of new years! But that hour never came, yet the light of hope, which supports man in all his suffering, and raises him above them all, never forsook us, amid all the depressing influence of expectations cherished only to be disappointed.”
To reach the coast of Siberia under these circumstances had become an impossibility, and even in case the ship became liberated, the search for a winter harbour in Nova Zembla would be a matter of peril and difficulty.
Drifting, not with the current, but in the direction of the prevailing wind, the land of Nova Zembla receded until it faded out of sight and only a desert of ice surrounded them. The frightful ice convulsions which frequently threatened their destruction, determined the men to build a house on the main floe, where supplies of coal, fuel, and provisions were stored. Lieutenant Payer comments on the terrible conditions under which they existed.
“One of us, to-day, remarked very truly, that he saw perfectly well how one might lose his reason with the continuance of these sudden and incessant assaults. It is not dangers that we fear, but worse far; we are kept in a constant state of readiness to meet destruction, and know not whether it will come to-day or to-morrow, or in a year. Every night we are startled out of sleep, and, like hunted animals, up we spring to await amid an awful darkness, the end of an enterprise from which all hope of success has departed. It becomes at last a mere mechanical process to seize our rifles and our bag of necessaries and rush on deck. In the daytime, leaning over the bulwarks of the ship, which trembles, yea, almost quivers the while, we look out on a continual work of destruction going on, and at night, as we listen to the loud and ever-increasing noises of the ice, we gather that the forces of our enemy are increasing.”
The hours of these dark and disheartening days were passed in taking observations, exercise, and occasional bear and sledge journeys. In spite of this the time crept away with indescribable monotony. During February the ship drifted first northwest and then north, the greatest longitude attained being 71° E., in 79° N.; and the summer of 1873 advanced without any signs of freeing them.
A. E. Nordenskjöld
From “The Voyage of the Vega,” Macmillan & Co., Ltd., London
With sad resignation the officers and crew looked forward to passing another winter in the ice, although plenty of birds, seal, and bears insured them fresh meat, so essential for the preservation of health in high latitudes.
DISCOVERY OF FRANZ JOSEF LAND
“A memorable day,” writes Payer, “was the 31st of August, 1873, in 79° 43´ Lat., and 59° 33´ E. Long. That day brought a surprise, such as only the awakening to a new life can produce. About midday, as we were leaning on the bulwarks of the ship and scanning the gliding mists, through which the rays of the sun broke ever and anon, a wall of mist, lifting itself up suddenly, revealed to us, afar off in the northwest, the outlines of bold rocks, which in a few minutes seemed to grow into a radiant Alpine land! At first we all stood transfixed and hardly believing what we saw. Then, carried away by the reality of our good fortune, we burst forth into shouts of joy—‘Land, land, land at last!’ There was now not a sick man on board the Tegetthoff. The news of the discovery spread in an instant. Every one rushed on deck, to convince himself with his own eyes, that the expedition was not after all a failure,—there before us lay the prize that could not be snatched from us. Yet not by our own action, but through the happy caprice of our floe and as in a dream had we won it, but when we thought of the floe, drifting without intermission, we felt with redoubled pain, that we were at the mercy of its movements. As yet we had secured no winter harbour, from which the exploration of the strange land could be successfully undertaken. For the present, too, it was not within the verge of possibility to reach and visit it. If we had left our floe, we should have been cut off and lost. It was only under the influence of the first excitement that we made a rush over our ice-field, although we knew that numberless fissures made it impossible to reach the land. But, difficulties notwithstanding, when we ran to the edge of our floe, we beheld from a ridge of ice the mountains and glaciers of the mysterious land. Its valleys seemed to our fond imagination clothed with green pastures, over which herds of reindeer roamed in undisturbed enjoyment of their liberty, and far from all floes.
“For thousands of years this land had lain buried from the knowledge of men, and now its discovery had fallen into the lap of a small band, themselves almost lost to the world, who far from their home remembered the homage due their sovereign, and gave to the newly discovered territory the name Kaiser Franz Josef Land. With loud hurrahs we drank to the health of our Emperor in grog hastily made on deck in an iron coffee-pot, and then dressed the Tegetthoff with flags. All cares, for the present, at least, disappeared, and with them the passive monotony of our lives. There was not a day, there was hardly an hour, in which this mysterious land did not henceforth occupy our thoughts and attention.”
In October the vessel drifted within three miles of an island lying off the main mass of land. Lieutenant Payer landed on it, and found it to be in latitude 79° 54´ N. It was named after Count Wilczek, whose deep interest in the expedition had won for him the affection of all.
PAYER’S SLEDGE JOURNEYS
A second winter settled upon the Tegetthoff and her crew at this point, the chief diversion being bear hunts, in which no less than sixty-seven bears were killed. On the 10th of March, 1874, Payer made a preliminary sledge journey, the object of which was to determine the position and general relations of the new land. A large sledge was used and was equipped for a week; it carried an extra quantity of provisions, which were intended to form depots, for the more extended sledge journey contemplated for later on. Thirty-nine pounds of hard bread, five pounds of pemmican, sixteen pounds of boiled beef, one pound of pea-sausage, one-half pound of salt and pepper, six pounds of rice, two pounds of grits, five pounds of chocolate, five gallons of rum, one pound of extract of meat, two pounds of condensed milk, and eight gallons of alcohol. The party consisted of Payer and six men, with three dogs.
Intense cold and violent snow-storms, the thermometer falling as low as -59°, caused great suffering to the men from frost bites. This frightful temperature was experienced March 14. On that day Payer with a Tyrolese mountain climber stood on the summit of the precipitous face of the Sonklar-Glacier, whose broad terminal front overhangs the frozen bay of Nordenskjöld Fiord.
After making deposits of provisions, the party were obliged to return to the ship, after an absence of five days.
On March 26, Lieutenant Payer with ten men and three dogs started on a more extended journey of thirty days. The equipment for this second trip consisted of:—
| lbs. | |
|---|---|
| the large sledge | 150 |
| the provisions, including packing | 620 |
| the dog sledge | 37 |
| the tent, sleeping bags, tent-poles, and Alpine stock | 320 |
| alcohol and rum | 128 |
| fur coats and fur gloves | 140 |
| instruments, rifles, ammunition | 170 |
| shovel, 2 cooking-machines, drag-ropes, dog-tent, etc. | 1565 |
Each of the four sacks of provisions—calculated for seven days and seven men—contained fifty-one pounds of boiled beef, forty-eight pounds of bread, eight pounds of pemmican, seven pounds of bacon, two pounds of extract of meat, four pounds of condensed milk, two pounds of coffee, four pounds of chocolate, seven pounds of rice, three pounds of grits, one pound of salt and pepper, two pounds of pea-sausage, four pounds of sugar, besides a reserve bag with twenty pounds of bread. Boiled beef was taken as food for the dogs, and it was hoped that game would supplement the general rations.
From almost the first hour violent blizzards, intense cold, and the uneven condition of the ice made the journey disheartening and laborious. By April 1 they penetrated by Cape Hausa into a newly discovered passage, covered with heavy ice, to which Payer gave the name of Austria Sound. By the 7th of April they advanced into Rawlinson Sound, over a track between hummocks some of which were forty feet high, the depressions between them filled with deep layers of snow.
The noble mountain forms and mighty glaciers of Crown Prince Rudolf Land could be seen in the distance. Pursuing their course in a westerly direction they reached Hohenlohe Island the next day, where the expedition encamped, and the party divided, the smaller continuing to the north for the purpose of examining the glaciers of Rudolf Land.
A disaster occurred the first day after their departure which nearly proved fatal to the success of their undertaking. While crossing the Middendorf glacier, the snow gave way beneath a sledge, which precipitated one of the men, Zaninovich by name, the dogs and sledge, into a crevasse. “From an unknown depth,” writes Payer, “I heard a man’s voice mingled with the howling of dogs. All this was the impression of a moment, while I felt myself dragged backwards by the rope. Staggering back, and seeing the dark abyss beneath me, I could not doubt that I should be precipitated into it the next instant. A wonderful Providence arrested the fall of the sledge; at a depth of about thirty feet it stuck fast between the sides of the crevasse, just as I was being dragged to the edge of the abyss by its weight. The sledge having jammed itself in, I lay on my stomach close to the awful brink, the rope which attached me to the sledge tightly strained, and cutting deep into the snow. The situation was all the more dreadful as I, the only person present accustomed to the dangers of glaciers, lay there unable to stir. When I cried down to Zaninovich that I would cut the rope, he implored me not to do it, for if I did, the sledge would turn over, and he would be killed. For a time I lay quiet, considering what was to be done. By and by it flashed into my memory, how I and my guide had once fallen down a wall of ice in the Irtler Mountains, eight hundred feet high, and had escaped. This inspired me with confidence to venture on a rescue, desperate as it seemed under the circumstances. Orel had now come up, and, although he had never been on a glacier before, this gallant officer dauntlessly advanced to the edge of the crevasse, and laying himself on his stomach, looked down into the abyss, and cried to me, ‘Zaninovich is lying on a ledge of snow in the crevasse, with precipices all round him and the dogs are still attached to the traces of the sledge, which has stuck fast.’ I called to him to throw me his knife, which he did with such dexterity, that I was able to lay hold of it without difficulty, and as the only means of rescue, I severed the trace which was fastened round my waist. The sledge made a short turn, and then stuck fast again. I immediately sprang to my feet, drew off my canvas boots, and sprang over the crevasse, which was about ten feet broad. I now caught sight of Zaninovich and the dogs, and shouted to him, that I would run back to Hohenlohe Island to fetch men and ropes for his rescue, and that rescued he would be, if he could contrive for four hours to keep himself from being frozen. I heard his answer: ‘Fate, Signore, fate pure!’ and then Orel and I disappeared. Heedless of the crevasses which lay in our path, or of the bears which might attack us, we ran down the glacier back to Cape Schrotter, six miles off. Only one thought possessed us—the rescue of Zaninovich, the jewel and pride of our party, and the recovery of our invaluable store of provisions, and of the book containing our journals, which, if lost, could never be replaced. But even apart from my personal feeling for Zaninovich, I keenly felt the reproaches to which I should be exposed of incautious travelling on glaciers; and it gave me no comfort to think that my previous experiences in this kind of travelling over the glaciers of Greenland appeared to justify my proceedings. Stung with these reflections, I pressed on at the top of my speed, leaving Orel far behind me. Bathed with perspiration, I threw off my bird-skin garments, my boots, my gloves, and my shawl, and ran in my stockings through the deep snow. After passing the labyrinth of icebergs I saw the rocky pyramid of Cape Schrotter before me in the distance. The success of my venture depended on the weather. If snow driving should set in, and the footprints should be obliterated, it would be impossible to find Hohenlohe Island. All around me it was fearfully lonely. Encompassed by glaciers, I was absolutely alone. At last I saw Klotz emerge from behind an iceberg at some distance off, and though I continued to shout his name till I almost reached him, I failed to rouse him from his usual reverie. When at last he saw me breathlessly pushing on, scarcely clothed, and constantly calling, his sack slipped from his back, and he stared at me as if he had lost his senses. When the hardy son of the mountains came to understand that Zaninovich with the sledge was buried in the crevasse, he began to weep, in his simplicity of heart taking the blame of what had happened on himself. He was so agitated and disturbed, that I made him promise that he would do himself no mischief, and then, leaving him to his moody silence, I ran on again towards the island. It seemed as if I should never reach Cape Schrotter; with head bent down I trudged on, counting my steps through the deep snow; when I raised it again, after a little time, it was always the same black spot that I saw on the distant horizon. At last I came near it, saw the tent, saw some dark spots creep out of it, saw them gather together, and then run down the snow-slope. These were the friends we had left behind. A few words of explanation, with an exhortation to abstain from idle lamentations, were enough. They at once detached a second rope from the large sledge, and got hold of a long tent-pole. Meanwhile I had rushed upon the cooking-machine, quickly melted a little snow to quench my raging thirst, and then we all set off again—Haller, Sussick, Lukinovich, and myself—to the Middendorf glacier. Tent and provisions were left unwatched; we ran back for three hours and a half; fears for Zaninovich gave such wings to my steps, that my companions were scarcely able to keep up with me. Ever and anon, I had to stop to drink some rum. At the outset, we met Orel, and rather later Klotz, both making for Cape Schrotter, Klotz to remain behind there, and Orel to return with us at once to Middendorf glacier. When we came among the icebergs under Cape Habermann, I picked up, one by one, the clothes I had thrown away. Reaching the glacier, we tied ourselves together with a rope. Going before the rest I approached with beating heart the place, where the sledge had disappeared four hours and a half ago. A dark abyss yawned before us; not a sound issued from its depths, not even when I lay on the ground and shouted. At last I heard the whining of a dog, and then an unintelligible answer from Zaninovich. Haller was quickly let down by a rope; he found him still living, but almost frozen, on a ledge of snow forty feet down the crevasse. Fastening himself and Zaninovich to the rope, they were drawn up after great exertion. A storm of greetings saluted Zaninovich, stiff and speechless though he was, when he appeared on the surface of the glacier. I need not add that we gave him some rum to stimulate his vital energies. It was a noble proof how duty and discipline assert themselves, even in such situations, that the first word of this sailor, saved from being frozen to death, was not a complaint, but thanks, accompanied with a request that I would pardon him if he, in order to save himself from being frozen, had ventured to drink a portion of the rum, which had fallen down in its case with the sledge to his ledge of snow. Haller again descended, and fastened the dogs to a rope. The clever animals had freed themselves from their traces in some inexplicable way, and had sprung to a narrow ledge, where Haller found them, close to where Zaninovich had lain. It was astonishing how quickly they discerned the danger of the position and how great was their confidence in us. They had slept the whole time, as Zaninovich afterwards told us, and he had carefully avoided touching them lest they should fall down deeper into the abyss. We drew them up with some difficulty, and they gave expression to their joy, first by rolling themselves vigorously in the snow, and then by licking our hands. We then raised Haller by the rope some ten feet higher than the ledge on which Zaninovich had lain, so that he might be able to cut the ropes which fastened the loading of the firmly wedged in sledge. At this moment, Orel arrived, and with his help we raised one by one the articles with which the sledge was loaded. It was ten o’clock before we were convinced that we had lost nothing of any importance in the crevasse.”
CAPE FLIGELY
On April 12, 1874, Payer and his companions attained their farthest north, 82° 5´ north latitude; on that day they stood on a promontory about one thousand feet high, to which the name of Cape Fligely was given.
“Rudolf Land still stretched in a northeasterly direction,” writes Payer, “to wards a Cape, Cape Sherard Osborne—though it was impossible to determine its further course and connection.”
In the distant north, blue mountain ranges indicated masses of land and to these the names of King Oscar Land and Petermann Land were given. “Proudly we planted the Austro-Hungarian flag,” continues Payer, “for the first time in the high North. A document we enclosed in a bottle and deposited in a cleft of rock.” The return to the ship was rendered doubly hazardous by the insecurity of the ice, and the increasing water holes.
The results of the journey may be summed up as follows—Payer found the newly discovered country to be about the size of Spitzbergen, and consisting of two large masses, Wilczek Land to the East, and Zichy Land to the west, intersected by numerous fjords and skirted by many islands. Austria Sound divides the two main masses of land and extends to 82° N., where Rawlinson Sound forks off to the northeast. The mountains reach a height of two thousand to three thousand feet; glaciers abound in the ravines, and even the islands are covered with a glacial cap.
A third sledge journey was undertaken by Lieutenant Payer on April 29 to explore a large island named after M’Clintock.
HOME
The momentous day, May 20, on which the Tegetthoff was abandoned, came at last. Three boats were selected by the return expedition. Two of these were Norwegian whale-boats, twenty feet long, five feet broad, and two and one-half deep; the third was somewhat smaller.
The hummocks rendered their advance discouragingly slow. It was necessary to pass over the same short distance many times in the course of a day, and after two months of indescribable efforts, the distance reached by the party was not more than two German miles. An occasional bear, shot by the men, restored the waning strength and courage, but not until August 14, did the welcome sound of the open water reach their ears, and in 77° 40´ north latitude, they launched their boats. Nine days later they were picked up by Russian fishermen off the coast of Nova Zembla.