The second start was not more fortunate than the first. The ice broke all the way and N 25 became famous as an icebreaker. One good result came from it, however, namely, that we got near to the other machine. That presented a sad appearance as it lay there lonely and forlorn with one wing high in the air, and the other down on the ice. They had been lucky enough to get its nose up on to a grade of the old ice floe, but the tail lay right out in the ice.
The conditions here seemed quite promising. We had an open waterway about 400 meters long with fine new ice quite near. The third attempt to start was undertaken the same afternoon but without result. We decided to join up the waterway and the new ice. It was possible that the great speed one could attain on the waterway would carry one up onto the ice and if that happened there was a big chance of rising in the air as the track would then have become about 700 meters long. At 2 A.M. on the 4th June we started the work, continuing all day. As by eventide we had got the track finished, down came the fog and prevented us from starting. A little later the ice got rather lively, beginning to screw during the night. Fortunately it was only the new-frozen ice, but even it was eight inches thick. There were pipings and singings all round us as the ice jammed against the machine. The methods and tools we now used were most original. Dietrichson armed himself with a four-yard-long aluminium pole with which he did wonderful work. Omdal used the film camera tripod, which was very heavy, ending in three iron-bound points. Every blow therefore was trebled and was most effective. Riiser-Larsen was the only one who had brought rubber boots with him; these reached to his waist. As the ice encroached it was met by ringing blows. The battle against it continued the whole night and by morning we could once again look back upon a conquest. Meantime the old ice had crept up nearer to us. It now appeared as though the “Sphinx” was taking aim at us; this was an ugly forbidding iceberg, formed in the shape of the Sphinx. The movements of the ice had caused the sides of the waterway to set together and our starting place was ruined again. The fog lay thick on the 5th of June while fine rain was falling. The ice cracked and piped as though it would draw our attention to the fact that it still existed. Now what should one do?
With his usual energy Riiser-Larsen had gone for a walk that afternoon amongst the icebergs accompanied by Omdal; they wished to see if they could find another place which could be converted into a starting place. They had already turned round to return home, as the fog was preventing them from seeing anything, when suddenly it lifted and there they stood in the center of the only plain which could be used. This was 500 meters square and not too uneven to be made level by a little work and patience. They came back happy and full of hope and shouted to the “Sphinx”: “You may be amused and smile even when others despair—even when the position is hopeless we still sing with pleasure aha! aha! aha! Things are improving day by day.”
The “Sphinx” frowned! It did not like this!
COLLECTING SNOW BLOCKS FOR A RUN-WAY
The way to the plain which the two men had found was both long and difficult, but we lived under conditions where difficulties frightened us no more. First of all the machine must be driven there—about 300 meters through new ice to a high old plain. Here we would have to hack out a slide to drive the machine up. From here the road crossed over to the Thermopylæ Pass, which was formed by two moderately sized icebergs, and ended in a three-yards-wide ditch over which the machine must be negotiated on to the next plain. On the other side one could see the last obstacle which must be overcome in the form of an old crack about five yards wide with sides formed of high icebergs and loose snow—rotten conditions to work in. Early on the morning of the 6th the work was started. After breakfast we took all our tools and attacked the old ice where the grade should be built. In order to get to this spot we had to pass round a corner which took us out of sight of N 25. Under general circumstances one would not have left the machine unattended, but conditions were otherwise than general and we had no man we could spare. Singing “In Swinemunde träumt man im Sand,” the popular melody associated with our comfortable days in Spitzbergen, we used our knives, axes, and ice-anchor to the best advantage, and fragments of ice flew in all directions. It is with pride and joy that I look back on these days, joy because I worked in company with such men, proud because our task was accomplished. Let me say quite frankly and honestly that I often regarded the situation as hopeless and impossible. Ice-walls upon ice-walls raised themselves up and had to be removed from our course; an unfathomable gulf seemed to yawn before us threatening to stop our progress. It had to be bridged by cheeky heroes who, never grumbling, tackled the most hopeless tasks with laughter and with song.
TRYING OUT OUR BULB SEXTANTS
