Again I can see Bartlett up in the crow’s-nest, at the head of the swaying mast, jumping up and down like a mad man, swearing, shouting to the ship, exhorting it like a coach with his man in the ring. Ah, the vibrating bigness of it! How fine it would seem to be at it again!
CHAPTER V
WINTER QUARTERS
The matter of winter quarters is one of pronounced importance to polar travelers, ranking second only to the question of an abundant supply of food. Warmth, dryness, and abundance of light are the great desiderata. A knowledge of Eskimo methods of house-building, combined with a little ingenuity, enables these needs to be secured with few and simple materials.
In an experience extending over twenty-three years I have had occasion to prepare winter quarters afloat and ashore for parties of from three up. Many ideas were tried out, and most of them discarded as useless. Some were found of value, and utilizing these, I have introduced on different expeditions, and have tried out with most gratifying results, a new design for winter quarters the general principles of which I believe will be of value to future explorers in these regions. After I had had opportunities to study Eskimo principles and methods of house-building I gained new points, and could easily have adopted their practice in toto. With the addition of some materials of civilization, it was possible, however, to improve upon their results. Now, given a tent, a pick-ax, and a shovel, a bale of pressed hay, a lamp, a few gallons of oil, and the wood of the cases in which my provisions were packed, I could make a winter habitation for from two to six men in which they would be just as comfortable as at home.
If the Eskimos, with their crude intelligence and almost utter lack of materials, can construct comfortable habitations to protect them and their children through the bitter, months-long winter night, surely the white man, with his superior intelligence and limitless range of material, should be able to do as well.
Headquarters for my expedition of 1891–93 were established in McCormick Bay, where I was sure of securing an abundance of fresh meat for my party of seven. The site for our winter home was selected only after most careful consideration. It was essential that it be on land high enough to insure dryness; that it be sheltered from strong winds, and yet get as much sunlight as possible. It should also be free from danger of snow or rock slides and from spring floods, and not too far from the shore.
A grassy knoll on the southern shore of the bay about a hundred feet from the water’s-edge was finally decided upon as meeting most fully our requirements. A brook on each side made a good water-supply certain. A hundred feet back of the house were brown cliffs, which had the disadvantage of cutting off the sun in the early spring and late autumn; but they served as a protection against the winds, and we felt this was the best we could do.
All material for the house was of course taken north with us, and on the way up was cut and fitted, ready to nail together and set up at once upon our arrival.
Red Cliff House, when finally completed, was a sort of house within a house, there being an inner frame that was separated from an outer frame by an air space ranging from ten inches on the sides to something over three feet in the middle of the roof. A sheathing of closely joined boards and two layers of tarred paper on the outside of the outer framework made it air-tight, while the inner house was made of heavy boards, and rendered air-tight by a coating of heavy brown paper.
