Andrée made a speech and proposed a toast to Nansen and his gallant companions. The captain and the lieutenant replied in a few vigorous and moving words, and I felt myself struck with admiration for these brave men who have carried the European colours to the 86th degree of latitude.
They are happy to see their country and their homes again, but they are calm and patient as becomes true heroes. The lieutenant has a fiancée awaiting him, Andrée hands him a letter, only just arrived, from his mother. He also hands Captain Sverdrup a letter addressed to Nansen, and bearing the inscription, “The North Pole.”
The Fram’s library contains the Five Weeks in a Balloon, by Jules Verne, and the crew had often dreamt of the possibility of a balloon expedition coming to their relief. The dream was very near reality. In life everything is unforeseen, yet everything happens. If the polar balloon had started a few days ago it would have surely noticed the Fram on its way. “Man proposes and God disposes.”
It is painful to think that we shall have to take the aerostatic material back to Sweden and wait.
Disappointment for Andrée’s polar expedition: joy and triumph for the Nansen expedition if their commander returns soon.
Andrée places in the captain’s button-hole a sweet-scented rose, “La France,” a rare flower in Spitzbergen, and offers him a box of excellent cigars, a present which is greatly appreciated by our genial guests. Then the launch takes them back to their vessel amidst the hurrahs of the crew of the Virgo.
At five p.m., in a fine chilling snow, we pay our visit to the Fram and take photos of her.
When we are near the ship about twenty Siberian dogs, ranged in her bow, receive us with loud barks, but soon they recognise that we are friends and their bark is rather one of joy than any indication of hostility. They are all pleased at our caresses. Captain Sverdrup does the honours of his ship, which, if she has not the refined elegance of the Erline Jarl, yet inspires confidence by her sturdy appearance. She is the traditional Norwegian ship, with wooden hull well strengthened, her masts and her bulwarks roughly cut; in the bow the upturned boats, placed on frames, form a kind of shelter under which are suspended a couple of dozen bears’ hams, partly cured and dried; birds freshly killed for eating, casks and articles of every description, winch, anchors, cables, etc. In the stern the tiller is placed in a square hole made in the hull of the ship. On one side a spare tiller consisting of a massive piece of wood; compass, instruments, and the necessary rigging.
I stop at the observation post where the lieutenant tells us about his work and shows us the charts of the voyage; then we descend into the cabins, passing near the kitchen from which proceeds a very agreeable odour.
Traversing about ten steps of a very dark staircase, I find myself in the saloon, which has a hexagonal shape not devoid of originality. A lamp, with a reflector, fixed on the central pillar, emits a vague light to which my eyes accustom themselves with difficulty.