We had forgotten about the ice after we had gone to rest some hours ago, and now it lies tightly packed around the whole vessel. The bay, which was free of ice when we anchored, is now covered with drift-ice, and in all circumstances Captain Hagerup has decided that he must leave South Gate at once and make for Virgo-havn. We arrive there during the day and find “Hobby” exactly where we had left it yesterday morning, but no flying machines are to be seen. “Fram’s” wireless operator tells us that America is sending out pessimistic messages as they think, after six days have passed without news, that something must have happened to the expedition. As he tells us this view down in the mess, a shock passes through us. We feel that it is not only we who await the expedition, but there are millions and millions in the five Continents who are longing to hear how much further, between the known and the unknown areas, the boundary has been moved northward as the result of human enterprise’s latest move in the eternal search for knowledge. In the few words of the American message we get certain proof that all who have longed to do the same things which Amundsen, Dietrichson, Ellsworth, Feucht, Omdal and Riiser-Larsen actually set out to accomplish fear that the journey to the Pole will end in sacrifice. And the fear which we have all sought to hide now rises up in us, that six struggles against death are being fought out somewhere between 80° and 90° N. lat. The anxiety and excitement of the outer world reflects on us, and the first uncomfortable thoughts are thoroughly discussed by us, until little by little they are dispelled. Hardly a week has passed since they left, and if we trust Amundsen’s own word, there is no need to fear until fourteen days have elapsed since the 21st May.
Virgo-havn. Thursday, 28th May. 5:15 P.M.
It is now a week since we saw the two machines fly from King’s Bay and disappear in the distance in the direction of Cape Mitra. The hope which we journalists entertained of announcing their return a week from the start has gone. The meteorologists have summed up the weather conditions of the last seven days with a result which calms us.
When they started there must have been a good weather area over the Arctic Sea, with its center not far away from the actual Pole-point. During the entire flight the machines, therefore, have probably met only the lightest winds and clear weather. In the days immediately following the start the high pressure area was menaced by a depression from the North American coast and by a bad weather area which passed northeast from Russia to Siberia’s northern coast. There must have been a light breeze blowing in the direction of Spitzbergen, but any serious change in the weather is hardly likely to have taken place. From the 25th of May (Monday) the Siberian bad weather center passed eastwards, whilst that from Alaska passed towards Greenland. Between these two bad weather centers there always lay a high pressure area with its center at the Pole-point. These conditions continue; therefore, from the meteorological deductions, we can come to the conclusion that good weather has existed up till now, over the ground covered by the expedition. The confidence of the scientists braces us all up. We remember also the words which the airmen said before they left—especially a remark of Riiser-Larsen’s to the meteorologists, as he looked over the cliffs and saw the thick snow showers driving through the air, “Only provide us with twelve hours good weather and we shall reach the Pole. We don’t need any more to get there, but if necessary we can spend fourteen days on the homeward trip.”
These words we repeat to each other over and over again, and comfort ourselves with the knowledge of the excellence of the machines and their crews, and the recollection that they warned us that in bad weather they might only return after an absence of fourteen days. Yet it seems strange that they should be so long away when, so far as we can judge, the weather has been favorable. When Amundsen made his rush to the South Pole he could only stay to make observations for three days, as he had to trek back again and food allowance was limited. In this case, however, he can return to his base in eight, ten, or twelve hours so why should he jeopardize the benefit to the world’s scientific knowledge by leaving his point of observation before necessity demanded? If they have found land up there, they will wish to make maps—to photograph it—to measure it—a week will soon go by. But—but—but—this little word comes up every time we try to find a reason for the delay—and yet it is absurd to give up hope so soon.
This evening a council of war has been held on board the “Fram.” An announcement has arrived from the Norwegian Luftseiladsforeningen that they are planning a reconnoitering expedition. Two naval hydroplanes are to be sent north to help in the patroling of the ice borders. Captain Hagerup, First Lieutenant Horgen, Shipper Johansen, and First Mate Astrup Holm are to send word at once if such machines will be of any use. To give an answer of this kind is difficult, for the ice this year lies with a broad belt of drifting ice screwing in shoals in front of the solid ice border. Thus the hydroplanes could not negotiate this obstacle to any great distance. Should they themselves have to make a forced landing any distance from the open sea, both they and their crews would be lost. On the other hand, they would be able to fly over the entire area of the fairway north of Spitzbergen in a few hours, a distance which it would take several days for ships to cruise over, and thus they would make the patroling much more effective. Our answer was based on this latter consideration.
To-day it is eight days since they started, and we enter a new phase in our waiting time. Until to-day none of us have gone far away from the ships. The American journalist, James B. Wharton, who is with us, the film photographer, Paul Berge, and I had not set our feet out of the ship. We have always waited in the expectation of seeing the machines at any moment appear from behind Amsterdamöen. We have lain fully clad on our mattresses, ready to set the wireless working broadcasting the news. Berge’s film camera has stood on its three legs on the bridge ready to turn out hundreds of yards of film. We have always kept a boat ready at “Fram’s” side so that we could row across to the flying machines the moment they landed, and every night before we went to rest we instructed the watchman on deck that he must waken us the first moment he heard anything. But this evening as the telegraph station from the coast asked if they should keep open all night with extra supervision, I had answered that it was no longer necessary. As these words were broadcast from the little wireless compartment, it seemed as though we had sent a telegram to a waiting world that showed them that even we had begun to doubt. The same doubt is felt now by almost every one on the two boats. The possibility of seeing them come flying back is gradually diminishing. We still believe, but to-morrow our confidence will be less. We feel that on the 9th day from the start we shall give up hope. To-day it is decided that to-morrow “Fram” shall go down to Ny-Aalesund, partly for coaling reasons, partly to take away those members of the expedition who wish to take advantage of the opportunity to go down to Advent Bay, whence a coal steamer can carry them to Norway. When we shall see our comrades carried southwards while we are left behind, we shall enter into an anxious period of waiting which will seem unending.
Virgo-havn. 29th of May
Is the weather going to change after all? Last night it turned cloudy and before long snow began to fall thicker and faster. The atmosphere became absolutely impenetrable, and “Hobby” was sent to patrol the ice-border. The meteorologists think that the bad weather and invisibility is traveling across the polar basin from the northern ice, and that fog will probably cover the area up to 85° N. This gives us grounds to believe that the machines will not return to-day, for if the airmen have observed approaching fog, they will not risk flying through it for the fear of being separated. “Fram” sets out in the evening to King’s Bay.