Our polar flight

by Roald Amundsen; Lincoln Ellsworth

In the course of the day (24th of May) the whole fjord was frozen over. The leakage in the boat got continually worse, and thus we were quite pleased to see the ice freezing round our machine as it would form a resting place for the wings, and would prevent the machine sinking further, even if we should stop pumping-work, which took up much time and prevented us from performing other necessary tasks.

During the course of the afternoon Omdal finished changing the exhaust ventilators, and we thought that the motors were now all ready. The fact that they would not start in the severe cold, and especially in the strong wind which hindered the warming of the motors, did not concern us greatly. Spring was on the way, and the temperature would soon rise.

The movements of the ice, however, disturbed us very much. We had the feeling that the icebergs on the other side of the water-lane had come somewhat nearer, and the whole “landscape” seemed to change from time to time. In order to be on the safe side we decided to put all our provisions and outfit ashore. We started this immediately, and in the course of the forenoon everything was on the ice-plain near the tent.

Gradually the ice began to encroach more and more. To our joy we noticed that the two machines got nearer together, and we decided to try and get into communication with N 25. We were anxious to find out their position in order to discuss things with our leader, the only one with experience of drift ice, and the only one who could judge the situation.

On account of the uncertain conditions we did not want to leave more of our equipment behind than was absolutely necessary. We tried first of all to put our canvas boat (loaded with provisions, etc.) on the ski-sledge. This was the course we should have to adopt if for one reason or another we had to march southwards. After a few hundred meters of toil, fighting our way amongst the icebergs, we realized that it would be quite impossible to get along in a reasonable time, handicapped by this outfit, so we therefore took only the most necessary things in our knapsacks. All the same it amounted to forty kg. each, and with this on our backs we started off on our skis. We toiled forward over high icebergs and ice-clumps, and crossed the most fantastic and uneven territory, where skis of course could not be used. Therefore we carried them again, and jumped over the water-lanes or crossed the new ice which moved under our weight. This was very exciting and tiring and I admired the progress made by Ellsworth, who is not a skiing man. (In addition to his many excellent qualities he is also a true sportsman.) Omdal’s Alaskan experiences also came in handy. He was very clever in finding the easiest and safest passages, and we progressed without accident. N 25 was getting nearer and nearer with every minute’s march. After we had traveled about half the distance a long water-lane covered with very thin new ice stopped our progress. It was right across our path, about a quarter of a mile broad, and reached as far as the eye could see. On the other side lay N 25. We were so near that Riiser-Larsen and I could signal to each other without difficulty and without using glasses. We received word that they considered it impossible for us to get across, and we had nothing else to do but to go back the way we had come. Before leaving we arranged that we should signal to each other the next day at ten o’clock Greenwich mean time.

After seven hours’ toil we were back again at N 24. It was lying just as we had left it and all three of us went to “bed.” It was bitterly cold, but we got the first decent sleep since we had left Spitzbergen. We had gradually got more accustomed to the use of sleeping-bags; it required a good deal of practice to get down into them with the thick clothes we had to wear, for while sleeping we had to be clad in as many clothes as possible.

The 25th of May dawned with the same hopeless overcast sky as before. Now and again we had heavy snowdrifts. The temperature was about -10° c. After having tried in vain to start the aft motor, Omdal worked some time at the engine, but still it would not start. At 10 A.M. they signaled from N 25 that it appeared as if we could now manage to get to them if laden only with small packages and taking extreme care. We replied that we first wanted to try our engines and endeavor to get N 24 on to the ice-plain beside the tent, where it would be quite safe under any circumstances. We therefore started to prepare a slide over which we could push the machine. Whilst busy with this we received a further communication from N 25 that they required help as soon as we were ready to give it. We replied that we now expected an early result, and that we then would cross at the first opportunity in order to help them.

Meantime the aft engine was out of order and remained so. Compression was poor and Omdal poured buckets of warm oil on the valves, lighting all the Thermix apparatus and setting them in the motor gondola in the hope that the engine might start. The water-lane where we had landed was now nearly closed, and the icebergs on the other side were encroaching nearer so that the situation was not particularly bright. Until now we had lived only for lunch and dinner, eating the traveling provisions which Director Knutsen had given us and taking a cup of chocolate as well. For dinner we had a cup of pemmican soup, but instead of using one and three-quarter tablets per man, which was the original calculated ration, we only used two tablets altogether. In order to be on the safe side we started rationing the biscuits by allowing each man six biscuits served in threes, twice a day, although none of us expected then that we should remain here for weeks.

After a hard day’s work we sat again in the tent enjoying a pipe of tobacco after our evening meal, when I started to blink as my eyes suddenly began to smart. At first I thought it was the smoke, but the smarting did not stop; it got worse and worse. Tears flowed slowly and scaldingly. There could be no doubt about it. I had become snow-blind. It had come on me without any warning. We had had an overcast sky and snow most of the time, but it had never dawned on me to use snow-glasses. It seemed therefore that I would have to lie like a wreck for a few days, and I admit it now seemed to me that the situation was fairly precarious. I did the only things possible, namely, to get into my sleeping-bag and shut my eyes. Notwithstanding the pain and the trepidation, nature craved its right after the last day’s toil and mental strain, and I slept soundly. Late in the forenoon the following day I wakened somewhat confused in my head. To my great joy I could open my eyes. I noticed that it was twelve o’clock, but whether day or night I did not know. The other two slept, but as Ellsworth awakened at that moment, I learned that it must be midday, as he had crept into his sleeping-bag about 11 P.M. and had slept a long time. My eyes pained a little, but I could see all right, and I put on my spectacles immediately. We had a quiet meal and then arose the question of how to start the engine. We worked and worked, but there was no result. Probably it had been so warm that the valves must have got jammed, and it would take Omdal a week to take the cylinders off and put things right. After this discovery there was only one thing to do. We must secure the machine in the best possible way and try to get across to N 25. We presumed that with united efforts, we could have it ready for flight in the course of a few days, and then Feucht could remain with Omdal and help him to get the aft motor going.