RIISER-LARSEN—AFTER
DIETRICHSON—BEFORE
DIETRICHSON—AFTER
Our foresight in unstrapping the laces of the skis and putting our boots loosely into the ski-shoes, putting on our air-filled lifebelts was what made it possible to save us at all. How we blessed this, our own farsightedness! By way of curiosity I may mention that Riiser-Larsen and I bought the lifebelts in Bodö just as we were on the point of starting. A man came on board and announced himself as the manufacturer of the lifebelt “Tethys.” He brought a sample which appealed to us, and so we ordered six belts. It is strange how life is full of chance actions which lead to fateful results.
About forty minutes after the accident we reached the N 24. We received a hearty reception, and as Omdal and I got a good drop of spirit and some dry clothes, we soon started talking. Answers to innumerable questions tripped off our tongues. I can well remember that I said, “I am glad to see you again,” when I pressed Roald Amundsen’s hand. It is a saying which generally does not mean much, but I believe Amundsen understood. These few words, and still more the handshake, were an expression of joy at being again with our beloved leader, whose insight, experience and great capability, in conjunction with his untiring energy, overcame all difficulties. I have the impression that Amundsen’s few words to me, “same here” (“i like maate”), were just as sincere. All three of us from N 24 had arrived with a whole skin, and we could report that the machine in the meantime at least was safe, and, with our combined efforts, could be got ready to start in a few days’ time.
N 25’s position was such that only our united strength could save it from its precarious situation. It had made a forced landing and was lying worse than N 24, but both its motors were in working order. If the machines had by chance separated instead of coming close together we would probably not have been able to get into contact with one another and one crew, unless reënforced by the other, could hardly have managed to start its machine alone.
Even now, although we were six men all told, it seemed to us something of a riddle how we, with our primitive implements, should manage to get the machine onto the great ice-plain, which was our goal. But in this difficulty our leader’s wide experience and inventive mind was put to its full use. It became apparent that if six men are working on a matter of life and death they can accomplish the unbelievable. Most of us soon knew that our only salvation lay in getting one or both machines in a good position to start. A march southwards would (no matter which way we chose) have very little chance of success.