NANSEN AND THE “FRAM”
A careful study of the history of Arctic travel had convinced Nansen
that the routes by which most of his predecessors had attempted to
reach the North Pole were either impracticable or else beset by such
difficulties that he who could overcome them would be fortunate
indeed. Vessels attempting to penetrate far to the north had always
been stopped by an impenetrable barrier of ice. Travellers trying
to make the journey by sledge had found the ice so rough and the
movements of the pack so disconcerting, that they had been invariably
compelled to turn back before they were very far on their way, while,
so far as has yet been discovered, there is no land in a sufficiently
northerly latitude to form a suitable base.
The experiences of the _Jeannette_, however, turned his thoughts in
another direction. It will be remembered that that ill-fated vessel
was caught in the ice near Wrangel Land and drifted thence to New
Siberia, where she went down. Three years later there was found,
frozen into the drift-ice in the neighbourhood of Julianshaab, on
the south-west coast of Greenland, a number of articles which had
obviously come from the sunken vessel. These articles were first
discovered by the Eskimos, and were afterwards collected by Mr
Lytzen, colonial manager at Julianshaab, among them being a list of
provisions signed by De Long, a pair of sealskin breeches marked with
the name of Louis Noros, one of the _Jeannette’s_ crew, the peak of a
cap belonging to Nindemann, another of the sailors, and a manuscript
list of the ship’s boats.
Professor Mohn, in a lecture delivered before the scientific society
of Christiania, showed that these articles must have drifted across
the Pole, a theory which was supported by the fact that Siberian
larches had often been found on the east coast of Greenland; and
Nansen came to the conclusion that where they could drift he could
drift too. His proposal to put his theory to the test was greeted
with a hurricane of disapproval, especially as it involved the
abandonment of the well-known Arctic canon never to leave the
shore. He was told that human hands could not construct a ship
which could withstand the enormous pressure of the winter ice, and
that he was simply throwing away the lives of himself and of those
who accompanied him. Nansen, however, thought otherwise, and in
October 1892 a specially-built vessel was launched at the mouth
of the Christiania Fiord, and was christened by Mrs Nansen the
_Fram_—anglice, “Forward.”
The sides of the _Fram_ were thirty inches thick, and strengthened
with stanchions at points where the pressure was expected to be
greatest, while her hull was specially shaped in the hope that she
would rise when squeezed by the ice. She was only 128 feet long, but
very broad of beam. Her speed, under steam and sail, was expected to
be eight or nine knots an hour in very favourable circumstances;
under steam alone she was not expected to average more than three
knots, but speed was not, of course, a primary consideration. Her
crew consisted of thirteen, and included Captain Sverdrup, Lieutenant
Johansen, who was destined to accompany Nansen on his perilous
journey over the ice, and Lieutenant Scott-Hansen, who was chiefly
responsible for the scientific observations.
The _Fram_ set sail from Christiania on June 24, 1893, and was soon
making her way along the north coast of Europe. On August 4 she
entered the dreaded Kara Sea, but it was not until the end of the
month, when off Taimur Island, that she met with her first serious
opposition from ice. Here Nansen discovered a new group of islands,
and at one time he thought that he would be obliged to make their
closer acquaintance by wintering off them. Fortunately, however, a
storm broke up the ice on September 6, and he was able to proceed
on his way past Cape Chelyuskin. He had intended to call at Olenek
for dogs, but the summer was so far advanced that he did not dare to
linger on the way, so he pushed north past New Siberia and entered
the pack at lat. 78° 50´ on September 29.
As soon as the ice had really gripped the vessel and there was no
further prospect of release, preparations for the winter were set on
foot. The rudder was shipped, the hold was cleared out to make room
for a joiner’s shop, the engine was taken to pieces and a mechanical
workshop set up in its room, a smithy was erected, tinsmith’s work
was done in the chart-room, and shoemaker’s and sailmaker’s work in
the saloon. “There was nothing,” says Nansen, “from the most delicate
instruments down to wooden shoes and axe handles that could not be
made on the _Fram_. When we were found to be short of sounding line,
a grand rope-walk was constructed on the ice.... There was always
something to occupy us, and it was not difficult to find work for
each man that gave him sufficient exercise and so much distraction
that the time did not seem to him unbearably long.”
It is not to be supposed, however, that Nansen did not suffer
occasionally from ennui; and this was especially the case when the
_Fram_, to his disgust, was drifted steadily south-west, for several
weeks. Presently, however, she started once more on her northward
journey, and from that time onward her course gave her crew little
cause for dissatisfaction, though she did not approach the Pole quite
so nearly as had been hoped; the ship, moreover, behaved herself
splendidly in the ice and resisted the most serious pressures.
Contrary to the opinion of many experts, who had held that, frozen
into the pack as she would be, she could not possibly rise from her
bed and thrust the oncoming ice beneath her, she would sometimes be
raised so high above the surface that her bottom was almost visible.
Though Nansen saw from the _Fram’s_ drift that she would follow very
nearly the course he had anticipated, he thought that still more
might be accomplished, and that the sea which lay beyond the ship’s
route could be more thoroughly examined if he and a companion left
her with dogs and sledges. Such an expedition could not, of course,
hope to find the vessel again, as she would be constantly changing
her whereabouts, and it would be like looking for a needle in a
bottle of hay. The prospect of being obliged to find his own way
home to civilised regions did not, however, deter the explorer,
and, leaving Sverdrup in command, he started off on March 14, 1895,
accompanied by Johansen, with twenty-eight dogs, three sledges,
two kayacks, thirty days’ food for their dogs, and a hundred days’
rations for themselves.
The venture was rash almost to the verge of madness, but Nansen
and Johansen entered upon it with such spirit and pluck that they
succeeded in carrying it through successfully, though not without
suffering fearful hardships. High-piled ridges of ice, on the slopes
and summits of which the snow never had time to collect, were
constantly forming in their path, and over these the men had to
drag the sledges while the dogs, who did not care for that kind of
amusement, sat down and looked on. To their great disappointment,
too, the ice grew worse and worse as they journeyed north, till at
last, on April 7, Nansen climbed to the top of the highest point that
he could find, and saw nothing but packed, piled-up ice right on to
the horizon, looking, as he says, “like a rough sea that had been
petrified.” Such being the case, he came to the conclusion that it
would be folly to continue the struggle, so, having reached lat. 86°
14´ N., the farthest point attained up till then, he and Johansen
determined to turn south and make for Franz Joseph Land.
Soon after they had started on the return journey they came upon
better ice and progressed rather more rapidly. Unfortunately,
however, in their anxiety to push on, they occasionally made
inordinately long marches, with the result that, when they halted
for the night on April 12, more than thirty-six hours had elapsed
since they last pitched their tents, and their watches had run down.
They were able to make a reasonably good guess at the time, but from
that day onward they were never able to obtain their longitude with
any certainty.
The inaccuracy of Payer’s map, too, gave them a great deal of worry.
Naturally believing in the existence of Petermann’s Land, they
expected to sight it towards the end of April. May passed, however,
and then the beginning of June, and still no land came in sight. By
the 22nd of the month travelling had become so arduous that, having
shot three bears and a seal, thus relieving themselves of all fear
of starvation, they determined to wait till the warmer weather had
melted the snow. It was not until July 22 that they started once
more on their way, and two days later their eyes were gladdened with
the sight of land. To reach it, however, was no easy matter, for
the ice was broken up by numberless channels which were covered so
thickly with crushed floe that it was impossible for them to use
their kayacks. Accordingly they were obliged to jump from one piece
of ice to another, dragging the sledges after them—a most hazardous
proceeding which often nearly resulted in disaster.
It was while they were preparing to negotiate an open lead that an
incident happened which almost cost Johansen his life. Nansen was
busy with his kayack, which he was holding with one hand to prevent
it from slipping into the water, when he heard a scuffle behind him,
and Johansen’s voice cried out, “Take the gun!”
Looking round, he saw that an enormous bear was throwing itself on
his companion, who was lying on his back. He tried to seize his
gun, which was lying on the fore-deck, but the kayack slipped out
of his grasp into the water. “You must look sharp if you want to be
in time,” said Johansen quite quietly, and Nansen, making a supreme
effort, just managed to clutch his gun and shoot the bear before it
was on its prey.
After immense labour they succeeded in reaching Frederic Jackson
Island, and here they decided to spend the winter, as they realised
that it was too late in the season for them to attempt the long and
dangerous voyage to Spitzbergen. Accordingly they set about building
a hut and shooting walruses and bears, of which they found such an
abundance that they had soon placed themselves beyond the possibility
of starvation. The hut was small, but it was fairly comfortable. “By
the aid of the lamps,” says Nansen, “we succeeded in keeping the
temperature at about freezing-point in the middle of the hut, while
it was, of course, lower at the walls. The latter were covered with
a thick coating of frost and ice, which in the lamplight gave them
such a splendidly marmoreal appearance that in our happier moments we
could dream that we dwelt in marble halls.”
They had nothing whatever to do, so for twenty hours out of the
twenty-four they remained in bed, which, consisting as it did of
huge, hard stones, was not particularly comfortable. Christmas Day
they celebrated by turning their shirts inside out. Their clothes,
by the way, were always a source of worry, for washing was a problem
which they were quite unable to solve. They succeeded in keeping
their persons fairly clean, partly by scraping themselves with knives
and partly by rubbing in bear’s fat and wiping it off with moss; but
though they tried the effect of boiling their underclothing and then
scraping it with a knife, the plan did not answer very well, and they
pined for a cake of soap.
On May 19 they started off once more, and managed to make fairly good
progress either on the ice or in open water. They had one or two
accidents, one of which might have resulted disastrously, for the
kayack which had their provisions and guns on board started off on a
voyage on its own account, leaving them on shore. Nansen was obliged
to swim after it, and became so exhausted in the struggle with the
bitter water that he was only just able to reach it and scramble
over the gunwale. Their troubles, however, were now at an end, for,
when preparing breakfast one morning, Nansen heard dogs barking. At
first he could hardly believe his ears, but the sound came nearer
and nearer till at last there could be no doubt about it. Rushing
off on his skis to learn the solution of the mystery, he met F. G.
Jackson, from whom he received the warmest welcome. As, however, we
have described the meeting in the chapter devoted to the Jackson
expedition, we need not dwell on it again here.
In the meanwhile the _Fram_ drifted steadily on with the ice,
reaching, on October 16, almost as high a latitude as that attained
by Nansen. She pursued her journey to the edge of the pack without
misadventure, and after a series of blasting operations she was set
free of the ice and made her way home in safety.
[Illustration: SPITZBERGEN]