Our polar flight

by Roald Amundsen; Lincoln Ellsworth

The reception we received will never be forgotten, not even when other things fill our thoughts. Our friends wept, they took hold of us, they looked at us with unbelieving glance—“But, Great God, is it you?” They simply did not realize that we had returned. But they explained how they had waited and waited, insisting that they had never given us up, while in their hearts they knew they had. And suddenly there we stood among them—the dead returned to life. No wonder that the reaction was great. Not one sensible word was said during the first half hour. There stood all our dear old friends: Captain Hagerup, Lieutenant Horgen, Zapffe, Ramm, Berge, etc. They looked so happy. And there were the dear fellows who had been sent to our relief: Captain Blom of the “Heimdal” and First Lieutenant F. Lutzow-Holm with the air fleet.

ROALD AMUNDSEN AND LINCOLN ELLSWORTH AT THE RECEPTION BY THE KING OF NORWAY

The last to come down, not because he wished to be late, but because it took him a long time to traverse the road from the Director’s house, was our dear host, Stakkars Knutsen. He had run so fast that he had to stand for a time to regain his breath. It was a warm reunion. Among all who had missed us in that time there was scarcely anybody whom our absence had made more uneasy. Late and early, we were told, he had scanned the horizon looking for us. Never had we been out of his thoughts. Big, strong man as he was, he had the warmest and softest of hearts. No wonder then that the meeting with Knutsen was regarded as an outstandingly important incident.

We had to be photographed from all sides, although a record would appear on the plate of a month’s whiskers and dirt. In an hour both would have vanished. And so we set off to our old King’s Bay quarters where we had passed unforgettable days before our departure. It was like a delightful dream to see it again. Every day as we had sat in our little mess on N 25 taking our humble meal, it was remarked on every side, “Oh! if only we were back at Knutsen’s.” And now we were there. We felt we wanted to pinch ourselves and ask, “Is this really possible? Can you really eat as many biscuits as you wish?” There was no time to shave and wash first. No! Berta had now taken command, and we should first and foremost have food. As we stepped into the room, cheering broke out. The Station welcomed us back, and never has our National Anthem sounded finer than it did as we stood in the little square room listening to the tones of what is our dearest hymn. I believe there was not one dry eye in the company. “Gud sygne dig landet vaart. Vi gir dig med glede alt.”

On the next day about three or four o’clock the steam bath was ready and a change was effected; hair and whiskers disappeared. We were all very thin, but we noticed it now more distinctly. It looked as though Riiser-Larsen could have put his collar twice round his neck—the same size collar which had even been tight for him when he set out for the north.

What time we went to bed that night I really cannot say, but I do know that when I came out next morning and looked around, one of the finest sights met me, making an ineradicable impression. On the flagstaff, right before the house, waved our big, beautiful National flag in a light summer breeze. The sun was blazing down and the glaciers around shone like silver in its rays. All seemed to be in festal dress. The hills blushed with the finest little flowers, and the birds twittered and sang. In the harbor lay the boats fully be-flagged. Yes! it was almost necessary to pinch myself to see if I was really awake. It seemed more like a fable.

On June 20th at 2 A.M. the “Heimdal” left the Bay with flying-men, mechanics, and photographer on board. They were off to Brandy Bay to fetch the machine. At eight next evening they were back with the apparatus in good order. We were dining when they arrived, but the hum of the motor brought us all to our feet. There she came gliding elegantly along and landed immediately afterwards. Now we got a holiday which we all keenly appreciated. It reminded me of my happy days when I could lie in idleness in the country and get fat! Hundreds of telegrams streamed in daily from all corners of the world. The King and Queen were first to send a greeting: “The Queen and I wish you and your companions welcome back. I thank you for your enterprise and that you have again brought honor to Norway. Haakon R.” The Crown Prince’s followed immediately after. Then came the Storthing, the Government, the Universities, all the towns, a number of districts and clubs and all the foreign Legations. Telegrams from abroad also poured in with congratulations—one from the English King, the German President, the Geographic and Scientific Associations, among others. Those were hard days for the telegraphers here in the north, but they were unusually smart. The telegraph service on board the “Fram” and the “Heimdal” gave us invaluable assistance. In addition to this the King’s Bay Coal Company’s telegrapher, Herr Hagenis, worked at high pressure all the time.

On June 23rd “Hobby” left us to return to her home—Tromsö. It was like losing an old friend, for we had been so glad to have with us all these clever, splendid people, who went with her; Ramm and Berge accompanied them.

St. Hans’ Eve was celebrated with due ceremony,—bonfire, song and dance. The Coal Company’s chartered boat “Albr. W. Selmer,” which came into the station on the 21st of June, was finished by the 25th with loading coal and took on board (the same afternoon) N 25 and the Navy’s two Hansa-Brandenburgers. They were shipped as they lay on the water—N 25 forward and the two others aft. The “Albr. W. Selmer” was suddenly turned into something which looked like a cross between fish and fowl. The planes were stretched out at both sides, and must have offered a most unusual sight to any ship meeting her. “Selmer” was an old boat, but quite able to take the whole expedition south. Furthermore, she had sufficient room to carry the machines quite easily and could house all the members. Captain Aasgard, her captain, and his officers made room for us with customary Norwegian hospitality and kindness and we of the expedition had the whole of the ship’s after-part given over to us. Thus we had the officers’ quarters and saloon. It was hard to say good-by to Knutsen and King’s Bay. We shall always hold as one of our dearest memories the wonderful hospitality and kindly care which was shown to us there on our return. At eleven o’clock the “Selmer” left King’s Bay in glorious weather. The midnight sun stood high in the heavens and the hills around were brightly illumined. From the “Heimdal” we heard the sounds of them playing “Ja vi elker” and from the Station’s height cheers broke out. The flags were dipped—one last farewell and the Station disappears—our dear home—behind us. We were ten passengers: Captain Hagerup, Lieuts. Riiser-Larsen, Dietrichson, Horgen, Lutzow-Holm, Omdal, Zapffe, Feucht, Ellsworth and myself. It was an unforgettable holiday—and festal journey. The intention was that we should sail down outside the Islands all the way, anchoring at Lang-Grunnen, from whence we should enter Horten. This, however, was altered as time passed. We met a heavy swell coming from the east, making it dangerous for our machines. We must therefore “hug the coast” as quickly as possible, and at 11 A.M., June 29th, we passed Fugleö. Telegrams continued to come in such numbers that the ship’s second mate, who was also radio-telegrapher, was overworked. Near Tromsö we were overhauled by the S.S. “Richard With,” belonging to the Vesteraalske Steamship Company. As it passed, it hoisted its flags and broke out into loud cheers, as all on board waved and shouted. This was the first greeting we had had of this kind. Unexpectedly as it came it absolutely overwhelmed us. It was a delightful greeting and will never be forgotten. Now we had an idea what awaited us elsewhere and as we saw the tremendous preparations in Tromsö Sound we were prepared. Out shot two large flag-bedecked ships full of festal-clad jubilant people. A little further forward we saw our old friend “Hobby” so gayly decorated and so laden with people that she took our breath away. Speeches were made, songs were sung and people cheered. The passage through Tromsö Sound was triumphant—a proof of the warm-hearted hospitality characteristic of the people. The wonderful summer weather continued all the time and our journey along the coast was like a trip through Dreamland. Our beautiful flag was to be seen everywhere and greeted us with the same glowing warmth. Fir trees and birches were dressed in their most lovely green reminding us of Fairyland as we glided past. Here and there lay solitary little fishing-boats and I felt many times a lump in my throat when their sunburnt men stood up, raised their hats and sent us their “Welcome Home.” It was a calm but deep welcome which, in contrast to other more demonstrative greetings, filled us with emotion.