Our polar flight

by Roald Amundsen; Lincoln Ellsworth

Our work and our mode of life in the weeks which followed are described in another chapter, so I shall only add that we were disappointed in our hopes of being able to get N 24 ready as soon as we had finished with N 25. Instead we had weeks of strenuous work to get N 25 into readiness for flight. It was absolutely a game of “cat and mouse,” but it was a game in which life and death were the stakes.

The thought of leaving our machine there behind us, in the ice, was very bitter at first. But as time passed and we saw the difficulties we had to contend with on every side, the bitterness gradually got less and less—especially when we found that it would be necessary to use N 24’s supply of petrol to augment the other supply for the homeward flight and for the various attempts to start which had to be made before N 25 finally got clear away.

I might mention too that the absence of landing places made it seem advisable for the return journey to be accomplished with one machine. The risk of having to make a forced landing would thus only be half as great, and the forced landing of one of the machines would have meant a catastrophe for the whole expedition. (I personally did not share this opinion, for in spite of the misfortune to the aft engines my trust in both of these was great, as they had gone like clockwork during the entire northward flight.) Circumstances however settled the question of choice, and as we at last, on the 15th of June, found ourselves in our right element again, it was only a passing thought which we gave to our dear N 24 as it disappeared behind us in the fog.

Part V
WHILST WE WAIT
LEAVES FROM THE DIARY OF FREDRIK RAMM
From May 21st to June 18th

WHILST WE WAIT
LEAVES FROM THE DIARY OF FREDRIK RAMM
From May 21st to June 18th

Ny-Aalesund, King’s Bay. Thursday, 21st May. Now they have gone! The daring journey has started! At five o’clock in the afternoon Amundsen, Riiser-Larsen and Feucht were on board N 25, Ellsworth, Dietrichson and Omdal on N 24, and we began to say farewell. Each one shook hands and received a nod of courage from all who should remain behind. To speak was impossible because of the noise from the four engines, which had all been working for a couple of hours, making such a din that our very words appeared to be torn in pieces and thrown into the snow spray which was whirled up by the propellers. At 5:15 N 25 glides out on to the ice. We are astonished, for there is no signal. Riiser-Larsen simply lets his engine out; the propeller whirs and the machine glides down from the strand onto the ice. The forward movement continues, and before we realize what is happening, the machine is gliding over the snow-clad plain and swings out onto the ice, suddenly giving a mighty swerve right round, and with continued speed rushes forward. One second—or is it a minute?—before Dietrichson’s machine follows? It disappears onto the ice in a cloud of snow making us wonder whether we are standing on our heads or our heels!

But what is this?

N 24 remains absolutely still on the plain, and where is N 25? There! A little gray fleck on the ice traveling towards the foot of the glacier. Will they have to lighten it? No! now it is in the air! No! Yes! Yes, it is! Just the fraction of a second passes, and we know that the start is successful in spite of the heavy load. We shout “Hurrah” as we see the space between the ice and the gray machine increasing and increasing till at last, there, high above the iceberg, and with the sky for a background, they swing round and set their course direct across the fjord. N 24 remains quite still. We cannot understand why and are about to cross over to make inquiries. But almost before we start the machine rises high into the clear blue sky and follows N 25 far out over the fjord. The two machines, so far as we can judge, are about 300 to 400 meters high, with N 25 a few hundred meters in front of N 24. We hear the even humming of the engines, echoing quite clearly on account of the high hills on the fjord’s opposite side—the noise decreases, ’tis now only like the humming of a fly. We follow the machines through binoculars, clearly seeing the propellers, the motor gondolas, the wings, and even the heads of the observers and pilots. Their speed must be 150 kilometers per hour. The two machines get smaller and smaller—the hum of the motors fainter and fainter. At last they have disappeared altogether. We look at the clock, they had left according to program and are in the air at 5:22—seven minutes after N 25 glided down onto the ice—both flying boats out of sight! Seven minutes.... It might almost have been seven hours. So much has happened.

Later

We remained standing as though suddenly realizing the difference in the work of those six on board the machines and ourselves. Till now we have all appeared to be actual members of the expedition. We have felt that there was no great difference in our desires to reach a common goal. We have lived under the same roof, fed in the same mess, have shared the same work, but now the others have gone, and we have become the land party again! The six ought to return after a few days’ absence and we should again be part of the expedition. But the few hours which have passed since 5:15 this afternoon have opened a tremendous gulf between us. The six may now be fighting for their very lives, while we hang around here exactly as we did yesterday, the day before, and every other day in the six weeks we have been in Ny-Aalesund. We have suddenly become superfluous! Until this afternoon we had tasks to perform, but from now we can only wait, just like all the rest of the world, for the six who have gone—and we know that we can give them no more help than any one else can. We have become passive.