The last voyage of the Karluk

by Bob Bartlett; Ralph T. Hale

The story is told of a student who, when asked to name five Arctic animals, replied, “Three polar bears and two seal.” If these varieties were to be all we should find on Wrangell Island, we should still be able to sustain life, if only we could get enough of them. I should have liked, however, to know that caribou and reindeer, too, could be had for the shooting.

We now made a snow shelter and started in on the fourteenth to dry out our boots and stockings; we had plenty of firewood. Keruk looked after this work. Maurer’s and Malloch’s feet still troubled them and Mamen’s knee was a constant cause of suffering, so that I was glad that they could now have an opportunity to rest. From the moment of our departure from Shipwreck Camp we had been constantly on the move during every minute of the daylight. The weather, though cold, had been exceptionally fine and clear; in fact we had not lost an hour on account of bad weather and had been inconvenienced for only one night by open water. As a consequence all hands were in need of a little rest. The dogs, too, were in a reduced condition, for though they had had plenty to eat they had worked very hard and I wanted them to get what rest they could.

For the plan I had been evolving to make my way across Long Strait from Wrangell Island to the coast of Siberia and seeking an opportunity of getting help for the party here on the island was now about to be put to the test. We were on land but were a long way from civilization; we need not drown but we might starve or freeze to death if we could not get help within a reasonable time. With the decline of the whaling industry there was no chance that any ship would come so far out from the mainland so that the only way to expect help to reach the party was to go after it. I would take only Kataktovick with me. He was sufficiently experienced in ice travel and inured to the hardships of life in the Arctic to know how to take care of himself in the constantly recurring emergencies that menace the traveller on the ever-shifting surface of the sea-ice. On my trips with Peary I had had plenty of leads of open water to negotiate at this time of year but that was twelve or fifteen degrees north of where we now were. The later the season grew the greater became the danger of the ice breaking up and making our escape from Wrangell Island possible only through the almost miraculous appearance of a chance ship, which was unlikely so far away from the coast where the trading was carried on. From now on the leads would be opening with greater and greater frequency. It behooved me to travel light and fast and get across before the southerly winds should come and set the ice moving. To attempt to get such a large number as the entire party over to Siberia at the speed that was absolutely necessary for crossing before the ice broke up was obviously out of the question. The journey from Shipwreck Camp to Wrangell Island had already been a nerve-racking experience for us all and the trip to Siberia would in many respects be harder and more dangerous than the road we had already traversed.

The great essential was time. I must make all speed to the mainland and then along the coast to East Cape, to get transportation across to Alaska, where I could send word to the Canadian Government. We had now been out of touch with civilization for months. We had brought food enough with us to the island to last the men eighty days, full rations; this would take them into June and the caches along the trail from Shipwreck Camp could be drawn on while the ice was suitable for travel. By June the birds would be back again, and always the polar bear and the seal were reliable sources of supply.

One curious thing about the Siberian journey which Kataktovick and I now had before us was that apart from the meagre information in the “American Coast Pilot,” which was much of it based on reports many years old, I knew about as much about Siberia as I knew about Mars. I felt quite certain, however, that there were natives dwelling along the coast on whom we could if necessary depend for food for our dogs and ourselves.

The weather continued fine and clear nearly all day on the fourteenth, as it had been for so many days past, but towards night clouds began to come up from the south and I felt that some change in the weather was likely to take place. The wind began to blow and by the next morning had become a gale. We devoted the time to drying out our clothes, mending them and making what alterations might be necessary.

We had three igloos, the Munro-Hadley parties in one, Kerdrillo and his party in another and McKinlay, Mamen, Kataktovick and myself in the third. We were all busy, for we were getting a party ready to go back over the trail to Shipwreck Camp to pick up supplies. Drying out clothing, too, takes time and so does the constant mending of clothes and harness which went forward vigorously. The canvas, in which we had sewed up our pemmican tins before starting on the march, now proved its usefulness by furnishing us with the material necessary for making repairs in dog harness. Mamen dislocated his knee again, poor fellow, and I had a job getting it back in place; it was extremely painful for him.

On March 16 a howling northwest gale sprang up in the early morning, continuing all day long, with blinding snowdrift. On account of the storm, the party for Shipwreck Camp was unable to leave. The next morning, however, the wind had died down to a gentle breeze and at eight A. M. the men got away. We parted for journeys in opposite directions, for I planned to leave on the following day for Siberia and would have gone on the seventeenth only that I wanted to see the others safely off. Munro, Breddy and Willams, with sixteen dogs and one sledge, were the ones chosen for the work. They were to go out over the trail to Shipwreck Camp and sledge supplies in two trips across the big pressure ridge in to the still ice about twenty-five miles from land and thence to the shore itself, their first load to consist chiefly of biscuit and their second of pemmican.

After my departure Munro would be in general charge of the men on Wrangell Island, as, in the absence of the mate, he was by rank second in command and was, moreover, well fitted for the post. On seeing him off I went over my instructions to him, which I told him I would also write out and leave with McKinlay when I got away the next day. I had had McKinlay make an inventory of the supplies and apportion them among the party, each to be responsible for his own share. There would be eighty days’ full rations apiece, even if they got no game or any further supplies from the caches along the trail and at Shipwreck Camp. During my absence I directed that the party be divided into three detachments, living far enough apart from one another to insure as wide a hunting area as possible for each.

The next morning the weather was not altogether propitious but I felt that to delay any longer was unwise. I went over the supplies with McKinlay, wrote out my instructions to Munro and told the men to keep up their courage, live peacefully and do the best they could. They all wrote letters home which I took to mail in Alaska.