Our polar flight

by Roald Amundsen; Lincoln Ellsworth

It was easier said than done because, first of all, the ice had to be broken round about the flying machine, and more than once we got thoroughly drenched. But after three hours’ work the plane was in the desired position. The question now was whether the crew of N 25 had seen us. We presumed they had seen our flag, but of course this was not certain. If everything was in good order, they would start off to join us as soon as they had been able to take careful observations. Anyway we were sure that they would see us when they started out, and so we climbed a little higher than we already were. We had nothing else to do but to put our engines in order as quickly as possible, to be ready at the earliest moment. We therefore put our tent up “on the land” of the ice-plain, and took the necessary mess requisites and sleeping bags with us. In addition we also armed ourselves with a gun and revolver, in case we should be surprised by a polar bear. A seal we had already seen, and a bear might also be lurking about. Omdal was to work solely on the motor, helped if necessary by Ellsworth and myself, whilst we had to do the cooking, take observations, keep a lookout and now and again pump the boat free of water. The leakage proved to be less than I expected, but still large enough to make us prefer to stick to our tent. This was quite small and light, made of thin aeroplane cloth. The bottom was of the same material. It was quite snug and warm when the Primus stove was lit, but when the snow underneath started to melt, on account of the heat in the tent, it got damp on the floor. We were of course entirely cut off from wood, leaves or branches of trees.

At midday—still on the 22nd—the sky got overcast and we could no longer see N 25. With our lack of experience in the ice regions Ellsworth and I had the impression that we were quite safe where we were. Omdal, who had some experience from his sojourn in Alaska, was not quite so calm about it, but thought that the new ice where we lay would in any case act as a protection against possible drift ice.

In the afternoon the weather cleared again for about an hour and it seemed to us that we could see the top of N 25 again. Later the sky was overcast with threatening snow squalls. It was clear that the ice was constantly on the move. Meantime the water-lane was so broad that we were not afraid of it closing in. What concerned us most was the uncertainty about N 25 and its crew. We reasoned out and imagined every possible theory. If everything was all right, they would of course fly down to join us in this place, where they could land without difficulty. If the machine had been hopelessly damaged, they would come on foot over the ice to us. We ruminated thus, because it seemed to us that they must have seen our flag, and, as meantime we saw nothing of them, we presumed that they had some necessary repairs to effect.

The whole night, until the morning of the 23rd of May, we had snow—with bad visibility. Omdal worked at the motors while Ellsworth and I pumped. The leakage appeared to be getting gradually worse. We had a northerly breeze and about -10° c.

At midday the weather cleared and the sun shone out from a clear sky. In the course of the day I was able to make two good observations, although the spirit level which Ellsworth had brought with him was too small and besides was of a very unsuitable construction. I had already pointed this out at Spitzbergen, but there was no opportunity of getting a new one. I must admit that I was disappointed with the result of our observations. I had believed that we were considerably nearer the Pole. The others thought the same. Judging by the flying and our speed through the air, we must have had a very strong wind current against us. At that time, however, we did not doubt that we could continue northwards as soon as the motors were in working order again.

At midday we saw N 25 again. It had drifted nearer to us, and we noticed that tarpaulins had been put over the motor-gondolas and that the flag was flying over it. If only the weather would remain clear now, they ought to be able to see us. We tried several times to attract their attention by using smoke-bombs, and now and again we fired a gun.

The part of the water-lane where we were encamped froze up more and more, a condition which rather pleased us as we expected that we would soon be able to make a start from the ice.

In the afternoon we at last noticed that N 25 must have observed us because we noticed a flag being waved backwards and forwards. This was the customary sign used in the Navy for starting flag-signaling. I was not slow in taking up the challenge, and soon a connection was established. The distance was so long that we had to use glasses, and as these had to be dried continuously the signaling took some time. At last we got the following message: “We are frozen in twenty meters from the water-lane—working in order to get free. If your position hopeless come to us, bring food, axes, deflection instruments, engine O.K.” We replied: “Expect we can start on the ice from here, but are leaking badly, therefore longer sojourn on the water impossible.”

I think few can imagine what relief it was to us to have established signal-communication with each other. I immediately gave a grateful thought to Riiser-Larsen and to my naval education.

The whole night, until the morning of the 24th of May, we had a fresh breeze with drifting snow, the temperature being -11° to -12°. It was bitterly cold in the tent and the wind was blowing right through it. The sleeping-bags were very excellent, but really only meant for summer use. We had the “Thermix” heating apparatus with us. It was really extraordinarily good, but, as we had hardly any petrol to spare, we did without the comfort of a heated tent. On our flight northwards we had been exceedingly economical regarding the consumption of petrol, and we therefore still had half a drum more than half our original quantity. But one could not tell how much might be required for our return journey.