The Romance of Polar Exploration / Interesting Descriptions of Arctic and Antarctic Adventure from the Earliest Time to the Voyage of the "Discovery"

by G. Firth Scott

Any one who has seen a pond in winter, when the ice round the edge is rotten and when a breeze blows across it, is aware how the loose sheet which covers the centre creaks and groans as it is driven against the bank. The edge is shivered into small flakes before the resistance can stop the forward movement, and then the sheet moves back against the breeze until once more the power of the wind controls it, and there is a renewed straining along the bank, the previously broken flakes either being forced up on to the bank, or else under, or over, the edge of the sheet. Pieces a yard square slowly rise up on end before the pressure and, falling back, shiver into fragments which scurry across the smooth surface of the sheet until they are arrested and become frozen to the main surface. Everywhere when the forward movement is on there is noise of creaking, groaning, and cracking, and everywhere on the ice sheet there is evidence of the force exerted.

The Arctic Ocean may be likened to such a pond, only two thousand miles across and with ice upon its surface which never melts and is always being forced one way or the other by tide, wind, or current. The rugged, piled-up fragments of one winter's fight are smoothed over somewhat later on by the heavy snows of spring and summer, or, more correctly speaking, of the period of daylight, for in this region the year is divided between the time when the sun is seen and when the sun is not seen. Along the shores of the continents which surround it, open water forms in the time of sunshine, and so there is room for the energy of the tides to escape. The currents can also, from time to time, break off great areas into floes and packs which drift away to the warmer South until they melt, leaving more room for the enormous stretch of tumbled ruggedness behind them to swing and drift in obedience to the driving currents. It will be remembered that it was at this period of the year when the Alert party travelled over the ice and found it so broken and rugged that barely a mile a day was covered. It was while this sort of ice was being formed that the Fram and her crew rested in the North, the vessel braving every nip by slipping upwards from the pressure; the crew, confident in her capabilities, living in merry good-humour in her cabin. What the confusion of the ice was like may be gathered from the opinion of those who saw it when the return of the sun enabled them to do so, and also relieved the pressure. "Imagine a stormy sea, all broken waves and flying billows, suddenly frozen solid into ice, and you have some idea, on a small scale, of the piled-up hummocks on the pack."

And so the first winter passed, the members of the expedition keeping not alone in good temper and spirits, but in good health also. There was always something doing; observations of temperature and ice movements to be taken, and records to be kept of the atmospheric and astronomical phenomena, on the scientific side; and on the every-day side of life, there were meals to get ready, stores to be overhauled and distributed, dogs to be fed, and a dozen other items to attend to. One of the happiest features of this expedition was the sincere and thorough good-fellowship which existed between all the members. Some of them took turn about in the cook's galley, each one trying to produce some dish which would come as a surprise to the mess and a variety to the usual bill of fare. Then they were excellently supplied with books to read and indoor games to fill in the odd hours of leisure. A newspaper was started, and although it was somewhat deficient in foreign news, there was plenty of local intelligence to keep it going until the return of the sun. Inside the cabin there was constantly heard the hearty laugh as some jest passed round, and under the illumination of the electric light and the spell of good-fellowship, but little heed was paid to the constant noise made outside in the darkness of the Arctic night by the ever-moving ice.

When the sun's approach was heralded by a gradually increasing twilight, every one was full of curiosity to learn how far they had drifted in the ice during the winter, and whether the current had maintained its northerly direction. There was no chance of proving that during the long hours of darkness, and when, with the appearance of the sun above the horizon, observations were taken to verify calculations already made, with the result that a great advance to the North was shown, there was general rejoicing. If the direction were maintained during the coming summer and the following winter, it was not impossible that in a year's time the Fram might be drifting over the very Pole itself. The flag of Norway was run up to the masthead in honour of the occasion, and at the supper-table speeches were made foreshadowing the glory which would be won if the direction of the current were maintained.

With the return of sunlight a great deal had to be done in the verification of the observations taken during the winter. As the weather became warmer it was possible to penetrate through the ice so as to enable them to take soundings as to the depth of the sea. Photographs of the ice-field were taken, so as to form companion pictures of what it was before and after the winter pressure had been exerted, and short expeditions by dog-sledge and snow-shoes (ski, as the Norwegian form is termed) were taken. A bear track was seen one day, but as Bruin did not seem desirous of approaching the ship, Captain Sverdrup, who commanded the vessel, set to work and devised a highly ingenious trap for him. The trap was fixed up on a hummock in the vicinity, where it could be watched from the Fram, but where it would be quiet enough to tempt the bear. A strong-smelling bait was fastened to it, so that when the bear seized the bait he would spring the jaws of the trap and get caught round the neck. Then, when all was ready, a constant watch was kept for Bruin to appear. He came when every one was about the ship, and as he was seen slouching over the hummocks, all eyes were turned upon him. Scenting the bait, he quickened his steps and went up to the trap, holding his head high up and sniffing for the bait. Having caught sight of it, he walked slowly round the trap until he came opposite the bait again, when he slowly rose on to his hind-legs and reached out for the morsel. Every one on board held their breath in anticipation of seeing him caught, but there was something about the concern which aroused his suspicions. Probably he had never seen such an animal before and doubted its quality, for he drew his head back, lowered himself on to all-fours, and slowly trotted away. The bear-trap was no success for killing bears, but it afforded excellent entertainment during this occasion, and formed a never-failing source of good-natured chaff afterwards.

As the short summer passed, the drift turned persistently to the west, and in view of its continuing in that direction, preparations were made for a dash by sledge to the North in the following period of sunlight. The framework of two kayaks were on board, and these were brought out and put together on the ice alongside the vessel. When they were covered with skins, they were packed on two light sledges, and experiments were made as to the amount of provisions that could be stored on the sledges in addition. With a third sledge for stores, it was found that twenty-eight dogs would be able to drag enough food to last two men for one hundred days and the dogs thirty days, besides the kayaks, guns, ammunition, and other necessaries.

It was a critical venture to undertake, for once the sledge party left the ship and journeyed to the North, it was almost an absolute impossibility that they would be able to find the ship again. All they would be able to do was to go as far as they could and then turn back again, shaping their course to the Spitzbergen Islands, where it was anticipated the Fram would eventually drift. Whether they would be able to traverse the distance before their food gave out, and whether they would be able to replenish their provisions by shooting game, were two very important problems, and, in addition, there was also the question how they would be able to withstand the intense cold of the winter if compelled to spend it on the ice.

As the darkness set in again, the discussion frequently turned to the prospects of the dash being successful. Nansen decided that he should be one of the two, selecting Lieutenant Hjalmar Johansen, of the Norwegian Navy, as his companion. Lieutenant Johansen had joined the expedition as stoker, subsequently acting as the meteorological assistant, and his choice by the leader was amply justified by results. The winter having passed without mishap, the reappearance of the sun verified the fears as to the direction of the drift. All through the winter they had travelled more to the West than the North. The dash by sledge was imperative.

On March 14, 1895, the two adventurers, with their three sledges, two kayaks, and twenty-eight dogs, bade adieu to their comrades, who had come out a part of the way with them from the Fram, and started due north along the 100th parallel of East longitude. The Fram had already drifted to the 84th parallel of latitude, farther North than had yet been attained.