In May 1888 Nansen and his companions sailed from Norway in the sealer which was to take them to Greenland. They had made an arrangement with the captain that business was to come first, and that he was not to go out of his way to land them. Accordingly it was not until July 17, when the ship happened to be within two miles and a half of the shore, that the explorers were able to put off in their two boats. As we have had occasion to point out more than once, the east coast of Greenland is generally encumbered with ice, and Nansen found that reaching the shore was by no means so easy a matter as he had anticipated. For many days they were drifted about with the pack, sometimes being carried as far as thirty miles out to sea, and it was not until July 29 that they were able to effect a landing. Even now, however, they were not able to start immediately across the ice-cap, for in the course of their wanderings they had been carried 200 miles to the south, and it was necessary for them to make a toilsome journey northward before, on August 10, they were able to set their course for the west coast.
They found at once that it was quite impossible for them to travel by day, as the snow was so soft that very little progress could be made. Even at night the conditions were but little better, for their way lay over rough and hummocky ice, which was frequently intersected by chasms, and rain fell in torrents; consequently they were only able to cover a few miles on each march. As they travelled upward, however, towards that high plateau of which Central Greenland consists, the cold grew more intense, with the result that the ice became firmer, and they were able to travel by day. The cold, however, though it brought relief to them in one direction, was not without its disadvantages, for they were unable to find any more drinking water, and were obliged to content themselves with snow, which they melted in flasks carried at their breasts.
The upward journey occupied them about three weeks, and it was with the utmost relief that they found themselves at last on the plateau, at an elevation of about 9000 feet. The ascent had been terribly steep, the work of dragging the five sledges had been excessively arduous, and so much time had consequently been spent, that Nansen determined to change his course, and, instead of pressing on to Christianshaab, to make for Godthaab, his nearest point in a south-westerly direction. The second half of the journey afforded a very pleasant contrast to the first. Abandoning the biggest of the sledges and binding the others together in couples, the explorers set sail and sent them racing down the slope while they glided beside them on their skis. As they neared the coast they were obliged to go more cautiously, for they very nearly tumbled head over heels down the first of the precipices which break up the ice-cap at this point.
With some difficulty they succeeded in reaching the shore, and here the party split up. Nansen, Sverdrup, and one of the Laps made a crazy and exceedingly uncomfortable boat out of willows, in which they sailed to the Eskimo settlement of New Herrnhut. Here they were received by a missionary, and a party was sent back for the others, who arrived in safety on October 16.
Nansen had intended to return to Norway that autumn, but the last ship had sailed, and he was consequently obliged to spend the winter at Godthaab. He ultimately reached home at the end of May, in the happy knowledge that he had performed a feat which had hitherto been considered impossible, and that he had proved the interior of Greenland to be a vast ice-field. The journey had cost him far more than he had originally anticipated, but the deficit was soon made good by private subscription.
Nansen was not the only man of the time who was attempting to solve the riddle of Central Greenland, for before he set out on his daring journey, the brilliant young American, Lieutenant Peary, had already begun that series of raids upon the inland ice which were eventually to be attended by very remarkable results.
Peary is a native of Maine, and he began his career as an engineer in the United States navy. He seems, however, to have been predestined by nature for the life of an Arctic traveller, for, as Sir Clements Markham well put it, he combines “forethought and prudence in planning his operations with great skill and undaunted resolution in carrying them into execution”—qualities which more, perhaps, than any others go to make a successful explorer. It was in the year 1885 that he first turned his attention seriously to that branch of work with which his name is now so intimately connected. Realising that there was still a vast field for research in Central Greenland, he then suggested to the academies and learned societies of the United States that he should undertake an expedition thither, with a view to pursuing scientific investigations in that practically unknown country, and to discovering once and for all whether or not Greenland was an island. The idea was taken up enthusiastically, and sufficient funds were soon raised to enable him to carry his plans into execution.
His first trip was more or less tentative, for he was at that time totally inexperienced in Arctic travel, and it was, of course, necessary for him to find out exactly what difficulties he would have to encounter on such a journey as that which he proposed to undertake. Leaving America in May 1886, he was soon at Godhaven, where he met his friend Christian Maigaard, a prominent official in those parts, who intended to accompany him on his journey. Thence he sailed up the Pakitsok Fiord, at the end of which lay his starting-point. After carefully reconnoitering the glacier and discovering a tongue of ice which seemed reasonably accessible, he started off with Maigaard and two Eskimos, their equipment consisting of a couple of sledges and provisions for about three weeks. Their way did not lie in particularly pleasant places, for the ice-field was intersected with innumerable crevasses which needed a good deal of negotiation. He found, however, that travelling was by no means impossible, and the party succeeded in penetrating the interior to a distance of about a hundred miles before lack of provisions compelled them to beat a retreat.
He returned to America more enthusiastic than ever about his plans for exploring the north of Greenland, and fully convinced that he could accomplish great things there, given the opportunity. It was not, however, until the year 1891 that he was able to set out on his second journey on the steamboat Kite, commanded by Captain Richard Pick. On this occasion he was accompanied by his wife; Dr Cook, the distinguished ethnologist; Gibson, an ornithologist; John Verhoeff, a mineralogist; his own coloured servant; and last, but by no means least, by Elvind Astrup, a young Norwegian who did splendid work not only on this but also on Peary’s later expeditions. There was also on board a party of nine men of science, with Professor Heilprin at their head, whose task it was to make researches and observations while Peary was away on his long journey.
One serious misadventure marked the passage out, as Peary had the misfortune to break his leg, with the result that he was absolutely helpless when the party landed at M’Cormick Bay, and was precluded from taking part in any of the short autumn trips round Inglefield Gulf.