The great hummock, which was the scene of our merry-makings on the Seventeenth of May last year, was now so far away and so difficult to reach on account of lanes and rugged ice that the festivities in the open air were limited to the flag procession. The cortège took its way southward, past the thermometer-hut, to the lane, thence northward along the lane, and then back to the ship, where it dispersed, but not before it had been photographed.
At 12 o’clock a salute was fired, after which we sat down to an excellent dinner, with genuine “Château la Fram,” vintage 1896.[1] The table was laid with great taste, and there was an elegant paper napkin at each cover, with the word Fram in the corner and the following inscription:
“The Seventeenth May, our memorial day,
Recalls what our fathers have done;
It cheers us and heartens us on to the fray,
And shows us that where there’s a will there’s a way,
And, with right on our side, we may hope to display
The proud banner of victory won.”
During the dinner speeches were made in honor of the day, of Norway, of Nansen and Johansen, etc.
During the days following May 17th we were occupied in getting the engine and its appurtenances ready for work and clearing the rudder-well and the propeller-well. First we attempted to pump water into the boiler through a hose let down into a hole out upon the ice. But the cold was still so intense that the water froze in the pump. We were obliged to carry water in buckets and pour it into the boiler by means of a canvas hose, made for the occasion and carried from the boiler to the hatchway above the engine-room. Amundsen thought at first that he had got the bottom cock clear so that he could let the water run direct into the boiler, but it soon became evident that it was too slow work as long as there was still any ice around the cock. Later on we hoisted the funnel and lighted the furnaces, and on the afternoon of May 19th the steam was up for the first time since we got into the ice in the autumn of 1893.