NEAREST THE POLE
THE GEOGRAPHICAL LIBRARY
The Opening of Tibet, By Perceval Landon
Flashlights in the Jungle, By C. G. Schillings
The Passing of Korea, By Homer B. Hulbert
Fighting the Polar Ice, By Anthony Fiala
Nearest the Pole, By R. E. Peary, U. S. N.
“NEAREST THE POLE” COMMANDER ROBERT E. PEARY PLANTING THE AMERICAN FLAG LATITUDE 87° 6′, APRIL 21, 1906 Painted by Albert Operti, from photographs
Nearest the Pole
A Narrative of the Polar Expedition of the Peary Arctic Club in the S.
S. Roosevelt, 1905–1906
By
R. E. PEARY, U. S. N.
With ninety-five photographs by the author, two maps and a frontispiece in colour by Albert Operti
New York
Doubleday, Page & Company
1907
COPYRIGHT, 1907, BY
DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY
PUBLISHED, APRIL, 1907
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
INCLUDING THAT OF TRANSLATION INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES
INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN
TO HER WHO HAS BEEN
MY CONSTANT AID AND INSPIRATION
AND HAS BORNE THE BRUNT
OF IT ALL
NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC SOCIETY INCORPORATED A.D. 1888
INTRODUCTION
The Address of President Roosevelt on his presentation of the Hubbard Medal of the National Geographic Society to Commander Robert E. Peary, at the annual banquet of the Society, December 15, 1906.
_I count myself fortunate in having been asked to be present this evening at such a gathering and on behalf of such a society to pay a tribute of honour to an American who emphatically deserves well of the commonwealth. Civilised people usually live under conditions of life so easy that there is a certain tendency to atrophy of the hardier virtues. And it is a relief to pay signal honour to a man who by his achievements makes it evident that in some of the race, at least, there has been no loss of hardy virtue._
_I said some loss of the hardier virtues. We will do well to recollect that the very word virtue, in itself, originally signifies courage and hardihood. When the Roman spoke of virtue he meant that sum of qualities that we characterise as manliness._
_I emphatically believe in peace and all the kindred virtues. But I think that they are only worth having if they come as a consequence of possessing the combined virtue of courage and hardihood. So I feel that in an age which naturally and properly excels, as it should excel, in the milder and softer qualities, there is need that we should not forget that in the last analysis the safe basis of a successful national character must rest upon the great fighting virtues, and those great fighting virtues can be shown quite as well in peace as in war._
_They can be shown in the work of the philanthropist; in the work of the scientist; and, most emphatically of all, in the work of the explorer, who faces and overcomes perils and hardships which the average soldier never in his life knows. In war, after all, it is only the man at the very head who is ever lonely. All the others, from the subordinate generals down through the privates, are cheered and sustained by the sense of companionship and by the sense of divided responsibility._
_You, the man whom we join to honour to-night, you, who for month in and month out, year in and year out, had to face perils and overcome the greatest risks and difficulties with resting on your shoulders the undivided responsibility which meant life or death to you and your followers—you had to show in addition what the modern commander with his great responsibility does not have to show. You had to show all the moral qualities in war, together with other qualities. You did a great deed, a deed that counted for all mankind, a deed which reflected credit upon you and upon your country; and on behalf of those present, and speaking also for the millions of your countrymen, I take pleasure in handing you this Hubbard medal, and in welcoming you home from the great feat which you have performed, Commander Peary._
COMMANDER ROBERT E. PEARY
MORRIS K. JESUP
Peary’s reply to President Roosevelt on the presentation of the Hubbard Medal of the National Geographic Society, December 15, 1906.
_President Roosevelt: In behalf of the Peary Arctic Club and its president, Morris K. Jesup, I beg to express our deep appreciation of the great honour conferred by the National Geographic Society in this award of its gold medal, and the double honour of receiving this medal from your hand._
_Your continued interest, Mr. President, your permission to name the club’s ship after you, and your name itself have proved a powerful talisman. Could I have foreseen this occasion, it would have lightened many dark hours, but I will frankly say that it would not, for it could not, have increased my efforts._
_The true explorer does his work not for any hopes of reward or honour, but because the thing he has set himself to do is a part of his being, and must be accomplished for the sake of the accomplishment. And he counts lightly hardships, risks, obstacles, if only they do not bar him from his goal._
_To me the final and complete solution of the Polar mystery which has engaged the best thought and interest of some of the best men of the most vigorous and enlightened nations of the world for more than three centuries, and to-day quickens the pulse of every man or woman whose veins hold red blood, is the thing which should be done for the honour and credit of this country, the thing which it is intended that I should do, and the thing that I must do._
_The result of the last expedition of the Peary Arctic Club has been to simplify the attainment of the Pole fifty per cent., to accentuate the fact that man and the Eskimo dog are the only two mechanisms capable of meeting all the varying contingencies of Arctic work, and that the American route to the Pole and the methods and equipment which have been brought to a high state of perfection, during the past fifteen years, still remain the most practicable means of attaining that object._
_Had the past winter been a normal season in the Arctic region and not, as it was, a particularly open one throughout the Northern hemisphere, I should have won the prize. And even if I had known before leaving the land what actual conditions were to the northward, as I know now, I could have so modified my route and my disposition of sledges that I could have reached the Pole in spite of the open season._
_Another expedition following in my steps and profiting by my experience cannot only attain the Pole; but can secure the remaining principal desiderata in the Arctic regions, namely, a line of deep-sea soundings through the central Polar Ocean, and the delineation of the unknown gap in the northeast coast line of Greenland from Cape Morris Jesup to Cape Bismarck. And this work can be done in a single season._
_As regards the belief expressed by some that the attainment of the North Pole possesses no value or interest, let me say that should an American first of all men place the Stars and Stripes at that coveted spot, there is not an American citizen at home or abroad, and there are millions of us, but what would feel a little better and a little prouder of being an American; and just that added increment of pride and patriotism to millions, would of itself alone be worth ten times the cost of attaining the Pole._
President Roosevelt, for nearly four centuries the world dreamed of the union of the Atlantic and Pacific. You have planted the Stars and Stripes at Panama and insured the realisation of that dream.
_For over three centuries the world has dreamed of solving the mystery of the North. To-night the Stars and Stripes stand nearest to that mystery, pointing and beckoning. And, God willing, I hope that your administration may yet see those Stars and Stripes planted at the Pole itself. For, between those two great cosmic boundaries, the Panama Canal and the North Pole, lie the heritage and the stupendous future of that giant whose destinies you guide to-day, the United States of America._
·THE·HUBBARD MEDAL· AWARDED BY THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC SOCIETY TO ROBERT E. PEARY FOR ARCTIC EXPLORATIONS. FARTHEST NORTH 87°6′ DECEMBER 15th 1906
ANNOUNCEMENT
NEW YORK, MARCH 30, 1907
The Peary Arctic Club at a recent meeting resolved unanimously to place the Roosevelt on dry dock for a refitting, and to subsequently tender the same to Commander Peary for a final attempt to be made by him to reach the North Pole. Believing Commander Peary will be successful, the Club has taken this action, and they have every confidence in the gallant and intrepid American, and share in the pride that must animate the American people to see planted at the North Pole the American flag.
The Peary Arctic Club asks the aid of those who have heretofore contributed, as well as the co-operation and aid of all or any who are interested in this patriotic enterprise. The expense of this final expedition it is estimated will be one hundred thousand dollars.
MORRIS K. JESUP, President.
NEW YORK, MARCH 30, 1907
The fact, as indicated in Mr. Jesup’s letter, that the Peary Arctic Club hopes to send out another Polar Expedition the coming summer, will, I trust, be accepted as an excuse for any shortcomings in this volume.
The writer has, from the day of his return, been under the stress of insistent and incessant demands, and in working and planning for the next campaign, has found it difficult and at times impossible to put this narrative of the campaign just finished, in the shape that would do full justice to himself and his publishers.
R. E. Peary
CONTENTS
PAGE Introduction vii
CHAPTER
I. From New York to Etah 3
II. Etah to Cape Sheridan 33
III. Autumn at Cape Sheridan 55
IV. Through the “Great Night” 73
V. Sheridan to the “Big Lead” 97
VI. From the “Big Lead” to 87° 6′ N. Lat. 123
VII. From 87° 6′ to the Greenland Coast 139
VIII. Along the Greenland Coast to the Roosevelt 153
IX. Westward Over the Glacial Fringe of Grant Land 173
X. Westward Over the Glacial Fringe of Grant Land Continued 195
XI. The Return from “Farthest West” 219
XII. Cape Sheridan to Etah 247
XIII. Etah to New York 265
XIV. The Peary Arctic Club 285
XV. Report of Expedition of 1898–1902 295
XVI. The Roosevelt 355
XVII. My Eskimos 375
Index 397
ILLUSTRATIONS
“NEAREST THE POLE”: COMMANDER ROBERT E. PEARY PLANTING THE AMERICAN FLAG, LATITUDE 87° 6′, APRIL 21, 1906 (COLOURED) Frontispiece
FACING PAGE
COMMANDER ROBERT E. PEARY viii
MORRIS K. JESUP ix
STEWARD PERCY 7
DR. WOLF 7
COMMANDER PEARY 7
CAPTAIN BARTLETT 7
MR. MARVIN 7
MATE BARTLETT 8
CHIEF ENGINEER WARDWELL 8
MATTHEW HENSON 8
“Bo’sun” MURPHY 8
THE SAILORS 8
THE FIREMEN 8
INTERIOR OF PEARY’S CABIN ABOARD THE “ROOSEVELT” 13
A MELVILLE BAY ICEBERG 14
TYPICAL WHALE SOUND GLACIER 14
OOMUNUI, THE PECULIAR PEAK AT THE ENTRANCE OF THE NORTH STAR BAY 23
COALING AT ETAH 24
TRANSFERRING WALRUS MEAT AT ETAH 24
THE AUXILIARY S. S. “ERIK” IN THE HARBOUR OF ETAH 27
THE BARRIER AT CAPE COLLINSON 28
ENTERING THE SMITH SOUND ICE 37
OPEN WATER OFF CAPE LUPTON 37
THE SQUEEZE NEAR “THE GAP” 38
BRINGING OFF THE “POLARIS” BOAT FROM BOAT CAMP, NEWMAN BAY 41
CAPE SUMNER, GREENLAND 42
BIRTHDAY CAPE, WRANGEL BAY, GRINNELL LAND 42
THE “ROOSEVELT” IMMEDIATELY AFTER ARRIVAL AT CAPE SHERIDAN 65
THE ALERT’S CAIRN, AT FLOEBERG BEACH 66
PETERSEN’S GRAVE, OVERLOOKING FLOEBERG BEACH 66
CAPE SHERIDAN AND THE POLAR OCEAN 75
THE “ROOSEVELT” AT CAPE SHERIDAN, AFTER A SOUTHERLY GALE 76
A DAY’S HARE SHOOTING AT SHERIDAN 81
RETURN OF HUNTING PARTY FROM CAPE HENRY WITH FIRST SPECIMENS OF NEW REINDEER 81
LAST VIEW OF THE SUN, BLACK CAPE, OCTOBER 12, 1906 82
SHAPING THE RUNNERS 85
ESKIMOS MAKING SLEDGES ON BOARD THE “ROOSEVELT” 85
SALMON TROUT FROM LAKE HAZEN 86
ESKIMOS FISHING ON LAKE HAZEN 86
MOONLIGHT VIEW OF THE “ROOSEVELT” IN WINTER QUARTERS AT CAPE SHERIDAN 89
THE BOW OF THE “ROOSEVELT” IN WINTER QUARTERS 90
WEIGHING MUSK-OX MEAT 99
REINDEER AND MUSK-OX MEAT IN THE RIGGING 99
CROSSING FIELDEN PENINSULA 100
CAPE HECLA WITH CAPE JOSEPH HENRY IN THE DISTANCE 103
CAPTAIN BARTLETT AT CAPE HECLA 104
DELAY CAMP AT THE “BIG LEAD,” 84° 38′ 107
ESKIMO DRAWINGS MADE AT STORM CAMP 108
A SAMPLE OF THE ARCTIC PACK 157
AS THEY ROUNDED UP THE HERD OF MUSK-OXEN, NARE’S LAND 158
AFTER THE KILLING 158
EGINGWAH AND THE MORRIS K. JESUP SLEDGE 175
MY ENTIRE WESTERN PARTY ON THE ROAD TO CAPE COLUMBIA 175
THE TWIN PEAKS AT CAPE COLUMBIA WITH THE MORRIS K. JESUP SLEDGE IN THE FOREGROUND 176
LIVE BULL MUSK-OX AT CLOSE QUARTERS, CAPE COLUMBIA 179
MUSK-OX AT CAPE COLUMBIA 180
THE ALPINE SUMMIT OF CAPE COLGATE 197
CAPE THOMAS HUBBARD. NORTHERN EXTREMITY OF JESUP LAND. (HEIBERGER LAND OF SVERDRUP’S) 198
CAPE COLGATE. NORTHWESTERN ANGLE OF GRANT LAND 198
EGINGWAH AND REINDEER AT CAPE HUBBARD 221
CROSSING A STREAM ON THE GLACIAL FRINGE 222
OUR CAMP ON LAND WEST OF ALDRICH’S FARTHEST 222
TYPICAL ESKIMO DOG 237
THE CRUSH NEAR CAPE UNION. WHERE THE “ROOSEVELT” LOST RUDDER, STERN-POST, AND PART OF PROPELLER 238
SIPSU AND HIS FAMILY. RETURNING TO THE SHIP FROM FORT CONGER 241
THE “ROOSEVELT” FORCED AGROUND IN WRANGEL BAY 242
THE “ROOSEVELT” IN WRANGEL BAY 242
ESKIMO FAMILY GOING ASHORE AT LADY FRANKLIN BAY FOR WINTER AT FORT CONGER 251
TAKING SOUNDINGS IN KANE BASIN 252
BRINGING THE BEAR TO THE SHIP 255
POLAR BEAR KILLED IN KANE BASIN 255
THE SHIP BEACHED FOR REPAIRS AT THE HEAD OF ETAH FIORD 256
VIEW OF THE STERN 263
ESKIMO HOUSES AT KOOKAN 264
CAPE YORK, 76° NORTH LATITUDE. NORTHERN LIMIT OF MELVILLE BAY, AND MOST SOUTHERLY SETTLEMENT OF THE WHALE SOUND ESKIMOS 267
HANGING OUR NEW RUDDER AT HOPEDALE 268
SAWING WOOD TO FEED THE FURNACES 268
HULDA, A LABRADOR ESKIMO GIRL AT NAIN 273
HOPEDALE. MORAVIAN MISSIONARY STATION ON THE LABRADOR COAST 274
OOBLOOYAH, YOUNG ESKIMO MAN OF ABOUT TWENTY-THREE 277
A GROUP OF ESKIMO WOMEN 278
HEAD OF RANGIFER PEARYI, ALLEN 347
ESKIMOS OF THE “FARTHEST NORTH” PARTY 348
CAPTAIN CHAS. B. DIX, BUILDER OF THE “ROOSEVELT” 357
THE “ROOSEVELT” ON HER TRIAL TRIP, JUNE, 1905 357
THE PEARY ARCTIC CLUB’S S. S. “ROOSEVELT” 358
A STUDY IN BRONZE; TYPICAL FACE OF ESKIMO WOMAN 367
AHWEAHGOODLOO, FOUR-YEAR-OLD ESKIMO GIRL 368
INUAHO, ESKIMO GIRL 377
AKATINGWAH, WIFE OF OOBLOOYAH 378
DETAIL MAP OF THE POLAR REGIONS SHOWING THE ROUTES AND EXPLORATIONS OF ROBERT E. PEARY, U. S. N. FROM 1892 TO 1906; AND GENERAL MAP OF THE NORTH POLAR REGIONS END
NEAREST THE POLE
CHAPTER I
FROM NEW YORK TO ETAH
When an expedition starts for distant and mysterious regions for an uncertain length of time, and particularly when its objective point is the frozen heart of the Arctic Circle, it is natural that those who know and are interested in its objects and plans should turn with interest to its personnel and its surroundings and environment while en route to the scene of action.
The opening scenes of an Arctic voyage are comparatively familiar to those conversant with Arctic literature. The main features of the play are much the same: A crowded and littered ship, regrets at leaving, confusion, and, if the weather be decent, an effort to get into shape, or, if the weather be bad, a surrender by most of the party to abject misery in cramped quarters. In the present instance, some of these features were entirely absent, and others appeared only in a mild form.
Experience and a roomy ship almost completely obviated the lumbering of the decks, beyond the inevitable and inseparable feature of the coal, a portion of which must at first always be carried on deck.
Such few things as were dumped on deck at the last moment, were quickly and readily disposed of; and quarters specially arranged for the party and on deck, insured fair room for each member of the expedition.
As to regrets, no pronounced symptoms were noticeable in the others, and I had made the voyage too often to consider it more than a trip to Europe.
Under these favourable circumstances let us look at the personnel of the party whose home for an uncertain length of time, in the ice of the Polar Sea, was to be the good ship Roosevelt. First the captain, Robert A. Bartlett, sailing master and ice navigator, who was 30 years of age, 5 feet 10½ inches tall, and weighed 174 pounds. Bartlett is one of the new generation of Bartletts, a hardy family of Newfoundland sailors and navigators, almost all of whom have been associated with Arctic work. A great uncle was master of the Tigress when that ship picked up the drifting floe party of the Polaris expedition; two uncles, Samuel and John, were respectively master and mate of the Panther in which Hayes and Bradford visited Melville Bay; recently Captain Sam was master of the Canadian Government steamer Neptune, which wintered in Hudson Bay; and both of these, as well as Harry, a younger uncle, had been masters of my ships during one or the other of my several voyages north. Robert was mate in the Windward in the expedition of ’98 to ’99.
Blonde, smooth-shaven and close-cropped, stockily built and clear-eyed, he had already been farther north in these regions than any of the other Newfoundland ice masters, and his youth, ambition, and the Bartlett blood all counted in his favour.
Moses Bartlett, mate, a second cousin of the captain, was 47 years old, 6 feet high, and weighed 184 pounds. He had already been as far north as Cape Sabine three times; twice as mate of my ships and once as mate of the Neptune, and had also spent a year on this ship in Hudson Bay in the employ of the Canadian Government. Weather-beaten, grizzled, and keen of eye, he was regarded as one of the best of the Newfoundland ice pilots.
George A. Wardwell, chief engineer, was a native of Bucksport, Maine, 44 years of age, 5 feet 11 inches tall, and weighed 240 pounds. Acting as engineer in the shipyard in which the Roosevelt was built and intimately employed in her construction, he was deeply interested in her proposed work and anxious to join the expedition. His phlegmatic temperament, and evident capacity for work, combined with non-use of liquor and tobacco, were all strong points in his favour.
John Murphy, boatswain, was a native Newfoundlander, 31 years of age, 5 feet 11 inches tall, and weighed 165 pounds. Sailor and fisherman from the age of eighteen, he had also been as far north as Cape Sabine on the Neptune and had wintered with her in Hudson Bay.
Murtaugh J. Malone, assistant engineer, was a native of Portland, Maine, 49 years of age, 5 feet 7½ inches tall, and weighed 150 pounds.
Dr. Louie J. Wolf, surgeon of the Expedition, was a native of Oregon, 30 years of age, 5 feet 9 inches tall, weighed 150 pounds, was a graduate of the Cooper Medical College, San Francisco, California, becoming later House Surgeon at St. Vincent’s Hospital, Portland, Oregon, and still later Assistant Attending Physician at the Cornell University Medical College, and of the outdoor medical dispensary of Bellevue Hospital.
Ross G. Marvin, secretary and assistant, was a native of Elmira, N. Y., a graduate of Cornell University, 25 years of age, 6 feet tall, and weighed 160 pounds. Subsequently he had three years of naval training on board the school ship St. Mary’s.
Charles Percy, my steward, was a native of Newfoundland, 54 years of age, 5 feet 10 inches high, and weighed 180 pounds. He had previously made a summer voyage as far north as Cape Sabine in my ship the Diana in 1899, and later had spent two years with Mrs. Peary and myself at Cape Sabine, from 1900 to 1902. Subsequently he had been in my employ as resident in charge of Eagle Island.
Matthew Henson, my personal attendant, was a coloured native of the District of Columbia, 39 years of age, 5 feet 6¾ inches high, and weighed 145 pounds. In my employ in one capacity or another most of the time since I took him to Nicaragua with me in 1888, and a member of all of my Arctic expeditions, his quality and capabilities were fully known.
The crew and firemen, with the exception of one of the latter, Charles Clark, a native of Massachusetts, were natives of Newfoundland, of the usual type of sailors and sealers common to that island. One of the firemen had been with me on the Eagle in 1886, and previously to that had been on one of the whalers in search of the Greely party in 1883. Another fireman had been north with me in the Hope in 1898, and one of the sailors had made a voyage to Hudson Bay.
DR. WOLF
CAPT. BARTLETT
COMMANDER PEARY
STEWARD PERCY
MR. MARVIN
MATE BARTLETT
CHIEF ENGINEER WARDWELL
MATTHEW HENSON
“BO’SUN” MURPHY
THE SAILORS
THE FIREMEN
Next after the personnel of the Expedition comes their environment. In the present case no member of the party was quartered below deck. The after cabin for officers, close down against the propeller post, and the forecastle for the crew, down in the eyes of the ship forward, to be found in all the old-fashioned ships, and even in those recently built for Arctic work, were lacking on the Roosevelt, and in their stead were light, roomy accommodations on deck.
As to the furnishings of the rooms there was little to be said. Beginning forward, it is well known that Jack, particularly if a Newfoundland sealer, does not take much bric-a-brac to sea with him, his outfit comprising only his clothes and his bedding. There were therefore no oil paintings or etchings on the walls of the forward house. Two tiers of folding bunks, a stove, a table, and the seamen’s chests for chairs, completed the list.
The furnishings of the after house were hardly less simple.
In the port saloon, which was lighted by two twelve-inch ports on the side, and a window looking forward, a leather-cushioned locker extended around three sides of the room; and this, with an extension table screwed to the floor, a clock, a little library presented to the ship by the SEAMAN’S FRIEND SOCIETY, and a brief notice to the members of the Expedition, stating the object of the Expedition, what was expected of the members and what success would mean to them, completed the furniture. Here the ship’s officers, except the captain, messed.
In the captain’s room, at the after end of the port side of the deck house, was a folding berth, a washbasin, a table and a camp chair, and these, with the chronometer, a trunk, and several pictures and photos on the walls, completed its furnishing.
At the after end of the starboard side of the deck house was my own room. This room, owing to the thoughtful care of Mrs. Peary and friends, was more luxuriously furnished than any room occupied by me on previous expeditions or than it would have been had I furnished it myself.
The room (10 × 16) was also larger than I had ever had on a previous expedition. The room occupied by Mrs. Peary and myself at Redcliffe was 7 × 12 feet, and the one at Anniversary Lodge 8 × 18 feet. But one of the most annoying circumstances of the long Arctic winter is always the crowding of cramped quarters, the inability to move without knocking against something, the feeling of oppression. This, on top of the contracted horizon and feeling of compression from the protracted darkness, is at times almost intolerable, and in planning the Roosevelt quarters I felt that I was justified in giving myself a little more room. Two ports and a window looking aft lighted the room and, as in the captain’s room, a door opened aft on to the quarter-deck, while another gave me direct access to the engine room.
A berth, a table, and a chair, are of course essentials and were present. Then came the pièce de résistance, the beautiful pianola given me by my friend H. H. Benedict. This, with a rack of nearly 150 music rolls, popular operas, marches, waltzes and rag-time, was screwed to the deck at the forward end of the room. Over it was a large framed portrait of the founder of the Expedition, Morris K. Jesup, flanked on either side by an etching of President Roosevelt and a photo of Judge Darling, Assistant Secretary of the Navy. In the forward corner was a stationary washstand, and on the inboard wall a series of shelves containing a small Arctic library, a few books of reference, and a few standard works of fiction. A chest of drawers, a cellarette, a table, a wicker easy chair from Mr. Jesup, a warm brown rug from Mrs. Peary, pictures of the home folks and home places, and Arctic maps upon the walls completed the fittings, not including a trunk and two chests of stores in the doctor’s department, for which there was at present no room below decks.
Wednesday, July 26th, ’05.—All things come to an end at last, even the starting of this Expedition.
The Roosevelt got away from the Terminal Pier at North Sydney at 2 P. M.[1] With the exception of the quarter-deck, which is loaded with bags of coal, to keep the ship from trimming too deep by the head, the deck is not nearly so badly littered and cumbered as on previous voyages.
Footnote 1:
NOTE.—The Roosevelt sailed from New York on July 16th, touched in at Bar Harbour to receive Mr. Jesup’s “God-speed,” then loaded with coal at Sydney, C. B.
The cases of oil and a few miscellaneous casks are practically all that is not below hatches. We have on board something over 500 tons of coal, besides our supplies and equipment. In capacity, the Roosevelt comes fully up to my expectations. There is a quarter of beef in the rigging, two or three sheep among the coal bags aft, and a tank and several casks of water on deck, besides the full tanks below.
Once under way, I hope to make no stops this side of Cape York. It is already late in the season and every day now is precious.
Percy, the steward, has purchased two small porkers, “Dennis” and “Mike,” which are running contentedly about the deck, and if they escape the dogs, which is very doubtful, they may furnish us roast pork for our Christmas dinner.
Outside the harbour a little swell caused by the easterly breeze taking the ship broadside on, sets her rolling a bit until she straightens out on her course to pass St. Paul’s light.
The next thing in order was the stowing of the miscellaneous packages which during the past days have been put in the various rooms, particularly my room, to prevent their getting mixed up with the provisions in the hold. This was readily accomplished by supper time, at least to the extent of permitting a passage through the room and allowing access to the bunk, the table, and a camp chair.
Immediately after supper we ran into dense fog and are now ploughing our way through it across Cabot Strait, the southern gateway of the Gulf, blowing our whistle as if we were in Long Island Sound, for we are crossing the track of the inward- and outward-bound traffic.
Thursday, July 27th.—Heavy thunderstorms last night with electrical accompaniments as vivid as those of Gulf storms on the southern voyages.
PIANOLA PRESENTED BY H. H. BENEDICT
BOOKCASE AND WRITING TABLE INTERIOR OF PEARY’S CABIN ABOARD THE “ROOSEVELT”
A MELVILLE BAY ICEBERG
TYPICAL WHALE SOUND GLACIER
Passed Cape Anguille on the Newfoundland coast at breakfast time, and Red Island and the bold cliffs of Cape St. George after noon.
Soon after dinner an alarm of fire was caused by the catching of one of the main deck beams over the uptake from the boilers. A stream from one of the fire hose which was coupled on in readiness and needed but the opening of a valve to turn the water on, quickly extinguished the fire, which was apparently caused by the more gaseous nature of the Sydney coal, and the combustion and heat in the stack instead of in the boiler. It was then discovered that several sections of the water-tube boilers were leaking, and the fires were immediately drawn to let the boilers cool for examination; the Roosevelt steaming along under the Scotch boiler only.
The process of stowage both about the decks and in the rooms has continued to-day, and most of the oil has been put down in the forepeak. A fine day, though with occasional showers, and the Roosevelt as steady as if steaming up the North River.
Friday, July 28th.—Continuance of the fine weather, running under Scotch boiler only all night and day. The engineers working on the Almys. The Chief to-night fears the damage is more serious than at first anticipated. At intervals during the day I have been comparing the readings of the log with the revolutions of the engines at varying speeds; with results fully up to my expectation. Another incipient fire in the same place was immediately extinguished, and I have had portions of the beams cut away and other means taken to prevent a recurrence. At supper time we passed four or five small bergs which had come through the straits. Fine weather, with smooth sea till evening, when the fog shut down on us. Just before this, two large steamers passed us heading for the straits, and one hung out the signal, “Wish you a pleasant voyage,” to which we replied, “Good-bye.” It is light now till 9 P. M., and it seems good to be again approaching the Arctic day.
Saturday, July 29th.—A dirty night. In the dense fog, which filled the Belle Isle graveyard of ships, Point Amour Light was invisible, until apparently hanging over our mast head, and then it was a matter of feeling our way from fog horn to fog horn through the Straits. We could hear two or three large steamers that were laying to, blowing their double blasts; and numbers of bergs added to the uncertainty and anxiety of the passage.
Captain Bartlett and myself up all night. At breakfast time just north of Chateau Bay we ran out of the wall of fog into bright sunshine, and a field of beautiful icebergs. Cape York is 1500 miles from here.
Running northward all day, just off the Labrador coast, in alternate fog and sunshine. Have written two or three brief personal letters which we shall leave at Domino Run to-night, before heading across Davis Strait for Greenland. This is necessitated by the fog having shut us out of Chateau Bay and Battle Harbour, from which place our passing may have been reported to the home folks.
Sunday, July 30th.—Ran into Domino Run late last night without dropping anchor, and Captain Bartlett pulled ashore with the letters, coming off again at once. He learned that the ice was against the coast as far down as Cape Harrigan.
Going into the Run it was clear as a bell, and while lying to, waiting for the Captain’s return, the stars twinkled as in winter, a biting wind whistled through the rigging, and a brilliant curtain aurora waved across the northern sky, while ashore the dogs were howling merrily.
Pacing the bridge, these familiar sights and sounds stirred me with the call of the polar mystery. Might it not be possible that this breath, this presence, as it were, of the land of the “Great Night” was reaching down far beyond its usual haunts to greet and welcome my coming?
When we steamed out, less than an hour after our arrival, the fog had settled down again, and the temporary jamming of the rudder chains while negotiating the narrow channel, caused a slight flurry, but resulted in nothing serious.
Clear of the harbour, our course was set N. E. by E. to bring us to the Greenland coast, well up Davis’ Strait. Dense fog all night and to-day, with very smooth sea. Several narrow shaves from icebergs during the night, but this morning we were in deep water, and clear of them.
A light breeze from the southeast, just enough to fill our headsails, foresail, spanker and balloon staysails, but with no push to it. There will be no more sailing lights for us, side or masthead or stern. We are beyond the world’s highways now, and shall see no sail or smoke except our own, until we return.
Monday, July 31st.—To-day the fog has cleared away a bit. The sea still very smooth, not even a swell. A very perceptible twilight throughout the night. To-night there will be no night. We are in the border land of the region of the “Great Day.”
Tuesday, August 1st.—Continuance of fine weather and listless sea. At noon we are in the latitude of Cape Farewell and Cape Chidley, and about midway between them. A Brunnich’s guillemot passed us flying south, and at 6 P. M. a small berg was visible a little west of our course.
At supper time Chief Wardwell, who has been working over the Almy boilers for the past four days, hands me a report that makes matters look gloomy. I am seriously disturbed and perplexed. Have ordered a complete overhauling and pressure test of the boilers.
Wednesday, Aug. 2d.—Another day of listless sea, and opening and clearing fog, with slowly rising barometer. Two bergs passed during the forenoon.
Am feeling physically something like myself again. I did not realise until we were actually off, and the relaxation came, how nearly fagged out I was with the incessant work, and the last two weeks of intolerable heat in New York. Were it not for our boilers I should feel very content.
In the afternoon a “bo’sun” bird, and numbers of kittiwakes were flying about the ship, and several guillemots in the water dove to let us pass.
Thursday, Aug. 3d.—A foggy night and cold. This morning the sun shining through a low-lying fog, and a light, but particularly penetrating easterly breeze, the breath of the East Greenland ice inshore of us.
The noon sights showed us a little south of Sukkertoppen, and at 2 P. M. an opening in the fog showed us the Sukkertoppen Islands on the starboard bow. We are past the East Coast ice without seeing a cake of it. Since supper dense fog.
Friday, Aug. 4th.—Thick fog all night until about 6:30 A. M., when it began to lift, showing us the bold Greenland Mountains, near Holsteinburg. Not a piece of ice inshore or a berg in sight.
We crossed the Arctic Circle at two o’clock this morning, and Percy, the steward, asserts that the bump when the ship went over it, woke him up!!
In regard to smoothness of sea, peacefulness of weather, entire absence of ice, and scarcity of bergs, the voyage from Sydney to the Arctic Circle has been most unusual even for this season of the year. With the exception of the few rolls just outside of Sydney Harbour, there has not been enough motion of the ship to spill a glass of water.
The noon sights give us 67° 37′ north latitude. The water, like glass, and the cliffs of Disco visible 95 miles away. In 68° we passed through a fleet of twenty-seven bergs, the output of the Disco Bay glaciers. During the afternoon a few walrus and two whales were seen. The day has been one of typical Disco Bay summer weather.
Saturday, Aug. 5th.—A perfect Arctic summer night, clear and brilliant. At two this morning we passed Godhavn, the little place lying under the southward-facing cliffs of Disco, which is the capital of the northern inspectorate of Greenland. Here, nineteen years ago, I got my first taste of Arctic life, and made plans and indulged in dreams some of which have since materialised and others may. Several times since then I have anchored in the harbour, till I know the little settlement as I do the streets of Washington.
Though we are now over three degrees beyond the Arctic Circle, I am sitting in my cabin, with window and ports open, in my shirt sleeves, wearing clothing I wore in New York before I left, writing in entire comfort.
Later, a light breeze from the westward, keen after its passage over the middle pack, makes the blue waters look like frosted steel, and sharpens the western cliffs of Disco, along which we are steaming, into almost startling clearness.
At noon we are off Hare Island and passing through a fleet of large bergs, the output of the Tossuketek glacier, which I visited in 1886, through the Waigatt. We are ten days from Sydney to the Waigatt.
Sunday, Aug. 6th.—An hour or two of fog at midnight, then overcast, with a light following breeze, barely enough to fill the sails at first, then freshens from southwest and brings up a sea which would give the Roosevelt considerable motion were it not for the sails which hold her almost as steady as a rock.
Occasionally the top of a wave slaps over the port rail, but not enough to do any harm.
The base of Sanderson’s Hope seen and named by John Davis 300 years ago, was visible under the fog in the early morning. Our noon sights gave us 73° 17′ north latitude, and at 6 P. M. we passed the Duck Islands on our starboard beam, near enough to see with the glasses, the old whaler’s lookout on the summit.
The sea and fresh breeze continued all the evening, and there is evidently very dirty weather to the south of us. No sign of ice yet.
Monday, Aug. 7th.—We ran away from the wind during the night. Cape York was visible at 2 P. M. and at 7 P. M. we ran past the point of it for the Eskimo settlement beyond. The run across Melville Bay had been made in twenty-five hours. No ice or ice sky was seen, and there is evidently no ice in the bay this year.
Going ashore, I found four tents at the village, and learned that some fifteen families are located to the eastward, at Meteorite Island, and other places. Among them are some of my best men.
Told the natives to get their things ready to come on board on my return, and going off to the ship steamed eastward.
Stopped off the first settlement and, without dropping anchor, shouted to the men to get ready to move.
Then on to Meteorite Island, where I found four tents and learned that four other families were still farther east in the bay. These I shall not see, as I cannot take the time to go so far out of my way. At Meteorite Island are three of my old men, and, in an hour or two, they are all on board with their belongings, and we steam away, leaving the place deserted. Back to the next settlement and the operation is repeated. Six families move all their belongings on board and desert their village in about three hours.
Tuesday, Aug. 8th.—It was after breakfast when we finished at the last settlement, and I lay down for a short nap while crossing Cape York Bay, having been up all night.
Again at Cape York the tents were quickly struck and, with all their belongings, the new men came on board.
At 2 P. M. we steamed around the Cape, and headed north to join the Erik at North Star Bay.[2] While passing Petowik Glacier a steamer was seen to the westward steaming south. The glasses showed her to be small and schooner-rigged.
Footnote 2:
NOTE.—The Erik was the auxiliary, steam whaler chartered by the Peary Arctic Club to go north as a collier, replenish the Roosevelt’s coal supply at Etah and deposit there a depot of coal for the Roosevelt on her return voyage.
Wednesday, Aug. 9th.—On arriving at North Star Bay this morning at 2 A. M., learned from the Erik that the steamer we saw was the Danish steamship Fox, here for the purpose of selecting a site for a settlement. The Erik came alongside and I transferred to her with Marvin and “Matt,” to make a round of the settlements to the north, and to hunt walrus, while the Roosevelt goes direct to Etah to overhaul machinery and prepare for the ice.
OOMUNUI The peculiar peak at the entrance of the North Star Bay, Wolstenholm Sound
COALING AT ETAH
TRANSFERRING WALRUS MEAT AT ETAH
The Erik got underway soon after, and made the circuit of Wolstenholm Sound, looking for walrus, but without success. There is no ice for them to bask upon.
At the Saunders Island bird cliffs we then put in two or three hours shooting, securing 130 birds, and returned to North Star Bay. Here, the natives that I wanted were taken on board, and some thirty additional dogs purchased. Before midnight we steamed north for Whale Sound.
The next morning we were rounding magnificent Cape Parry, into Whale Sound, and steamed eastward along the southern shore to Ittibloo, where I expected to find more of my people. None were there, however, and the Erik turned northward across the Sound to Karnah, where I felt certain to find someone. Six tents were located here beside the brawling summer river, and the men were all away at Cape Cleveland, hunting walrus with one of the whaleboats which I had given them three years before. From the women, I learned that about ten families were up the gulf at Kangerdlooksoah and that vicinity. Telling the natives here, as at the other places, to get their things in readiness to come on board when the ship returned, we steamed eastward into Inglefield Gulf. No ice was to be seen here, but there was a most unusual profusion of bergs from the great Heilprin and Melville Glaciers at the head of the Gulf. At times it looked as if there were no thoroughfare among the bergs, but a closer approach in every case showed winding passages among them, and off Kangerdlooksoah there were comparatively few.
Here, where I had left my faithful people three years before, I found now six tents, the occupants of all but one of them young and active men. The number of dogs, and the goodly supply of skins which these people have, made the process of moving a little slower than at some of the other places, but everybody and everything was finally on board, leaving the place, which a few hours before had been enlivened by the voices of children and the barking of dogs, deserted. From Kangerdlooksoah we steamed north across the head of the Gulf to Harvard Islands, on the northernmost of which were four tents. These, like the others, were embarked as soon as possible, and at half-past two the morning of the 11th, the Erik was ready to steam down the Gulf again.
The scene and the surroundings during this typical Arctic summer night were such as to be long remembered. The surface of the Gulf like a placid mirror, thickly dotted in every direction with fragments of ice and icebergs, of all sizes and shapes, and flanked on the east and north by the gigantic amphitheatre of the Heilprin, Tracy, and Melville Glaciers rising to the steel-blue slopes of the “great ice,” while northwest and west rose the warm red-brown bluffs of Mounts Daly and Adams, and Josephine Peary Island, and to the south the rolling slopes of the Kangerdlooksoah deer pastures. During the remainder of the night we steamed down the Gulf, and in the forenoon we were on the walrus grounds between Herbert Island and the north shore of the Sound.
THE AUXILIARY S. S. “ERIK” IN THE HARBOUR OF ETAH
THE BARRIER AT CAPE COLLINSON
Up to this time, the weather, since arriving at Cape York, has been an uninterrupted sequence of calm and continuous sunlight—typical Arctic summer weather. Now, however, wind and fog have their turn, and render it impossible to secure walrus, wasting the day for us.
In the evening we steamed back to Karnah, to take on board the natives there, and be in readiness to attempt the walrus again the following day. By midnight this work was completed, and as everyone was now dead-tired and sleepy, the Erik steamed out into the middle of the Sound to drift until after breakfast of the following day, when we again steamed out to the walrus grounds and by nine o’clock that night had secured eighteen of the animals. Fog and rain were now coming in upon us, and we steamed into the last settlement on our list, Igludiahni, where six tupiks were found. Our stay here was short as I wanted but one family here, and it did not take me long to purchase a number of additional dogs. When the last dog was on board the Erik, she headed for Cape Chalon on her way to rejoin the Roosevelt at Etah, where she arrived at breakfast time Sunday, the 13th. The Roosevelt had landed her coal in bags and broken out the supplies for the purpose of restowing to give her the proper trim to enter the ice.
It being Sunday, everyone enjoyed a much needed rest, except the Eskimos, to whom the work of skinning and cutting up the walrus was a labour of love and pleasure.
Early Monday morning the Erik veered alongside the Roosevelt and, at five o’clock, the work of transferring the meat, of restowing the Roosevelt’s supplies, and of filling her bunkers and ’tween-deck space with coal from the Erik, was commenced. This continued during Monday, Tuesday, and till Wednesday at 2 A. M. when the Roosevelt was ready to steam out and begin the struggle for which she was built, the fight with the Arctic ice from Cape Sabine to the northern shore of Grant Land. Thus far the voyage had been child’s play: what was now before her was likely to be the reverse.
The Roosevelt now had on board of her a crew of twenty, some forty Eskimos, and about 200 dogs. She also carried, in addition to the supplies and equipment for the party, about four hundred and fifty tons of coal and several tons of walrus meat.
I had been agreeably surprised to find the natives in unusually prosperous condition, with a superfluity of dogs, abundance of meat, and a good supply of skins for clothing. Several of my old friends and acquaintances had died during the last three years, but there were also a number of new babies and, although I did not have time for anything in the nature of a census, I had no doubt that the births equalled and probably exceeded the number of deaths.
CHAPTER II
ETAH TO CAPE SHERIDAN
Leaving Etah soon after midnight of August 16th, the Roosevelt swung out from the harbour of Etah and severed all communication with the civilised world. Below decks the ship was filled with coal until her plank sheer was nearly to the water; on deck were more than two hundred Eskimo dogs; and on the topgallant forecastle, and the tops of both forward and after deck-houses were over half a hundred Eskimos, men, women and children, and their belongings.
The heavy pack ice surging down Smith Sound, past Littleton Island, gave me an opportunity to see what good work the ship could do and as we bored through it toward Cape Sabine, she realised my expectations in regard to her, even though very deeply loaded and her boiler power reduced to one-half. The sharply raking stem was a revelation even to me, though it was my idea. Deep and heavy as the ship was, she rose on the opposing ice without pronounced shock, no matter how viciously she was driven at it, and either split it with the impact, or wedged it aside by sheer weight.
Bartlett obeyed my first orders, to give her full speed and I would be responsible, with some misgivings. The sealing captains are always very cautious with their ships when first going out heavy with coal.
At the end of an hour or two he was enthusiastic, both at the ease with which the most crushing blows could be delivered, and the whaleboat-like facility with which the ship wheeled and twisted through the tortuous passages.
But there were some areas of ancient ice which a thousand Roosevelts merged in one could not have negotiated, and we were soon deflected to the southwest, and only when within some ten miles of Cape Isabella did we find it practicable to work northward again.
Cape Sabine and Payer Harbour, which had been my headquarters for sixteen months in 1901–1902, were densely packed, permitting no near approach, and we bored away to the northeast, till the ice became impracticable for further advance, then retraced our route, and worked towards Bache Peninsula, getting about half-way across Buchanan Bay when we were stopped by large floes barring our passage to open water under Cape Albert. The ice later appearing more favourable to the eastward, we retraced a portion of our route and I very carefully reconnoitred Sabine and Payer Harbour again as I was loath to give up my sub-base there, this being part of my programme as outlined to the Club. But the conditions were entirely impossible, and making a detour to the east, the Roosevelt gained the open water at Bache Peninsula, and steaming to the bight south of Victoria Head, the northwestern headland of the peninsula, landed a depot of boats, coal, and provisions.
The value of this locality for the southern sub-base of an expedition going north by the Smith Sound or “American” route was immediately apparent to me in 1898, and in any future work it should be given preference over Payer Harbour. Its advantages are contiguity to a valuable game region, accessibility during any month in the year, and its less changeable and boisterous climate.
The work of landing the depot occupied about ten hours of the 18th, and while the work was in progress I went away with three Eskimos to a neighbouring valley which I knew, and secured three musk-oxen, a large bull, a cow, and a yearling, the latter being brought aboard alive. This animal was of the greatest interest to the crew and the “tenderfoot” members of the expedition, and the arrival of nearly eight hundred pounds of fine fresh beef created a very agreeable impression on everyone.
Up to this time the rush of getting on board my Eskimos and dogs, restowing the ship and fighting the ice, had left me no time for a thought beyond the demands of each hour. Now as I trod the moss patches beside the murmuring stream whose quieter reaches were crusted with ice, saw the fresh tracks of big game and a little later the shaggy black bulks of the musk-oxen with heads lowered and hoofs stamping, in the way I knew so well, my pulses bounded rapidly and I felt that I had come into my own again.
From Bache Peninsula we steamed for Hayes Point through scattered ice, with the heavy pack close on the starboard hand. Conditions were different from those of 1898, when the Windward was five days crossing the mouth of Princess Marie Bay. The night was fine and I could make out every well-known rock along the Cape D’Urville shore where the Windward wintered in ’98–’99. Looking into the distant depths of Princess Marie Bay, numerous episodes with bear and seals and musk-oxen crowded upon me. We experienced some trouble with ice near Hayes Point and Cape Frasier, and finally dodged into Maury Bay and anchored at noon of the 19th, to escape the large fields of very heavy ice which were moving rapidly southward before a fresh northerly wind, crashing with savage fury against the iron bastion of Cape John Sparrow under which we lay.
Vigilantly watching the ice and taking advantage of every opportunity, we squeezed and hammered our way into Scoresby Bay, hugging the shore closely, and thence to Richardson Bay. Twice we nearly reached Cape Joseph Goode only to be forced back by the oncoming floes to a shelter under Cape Wilkes, close to my “Christmas” igloos of 1898, where on that unfortunate midwinter journey to Fort Conger, during which I froze both my feet, I had spent Christmas and opened a small box from loved ones at home.
Rawlings Bay was packed and the ice along the Grinnell Land shore apparently unbroken. On the Greenland side it appeared less dense. During this time the weather was fine.
The aspect of the ice was so extremely unfavourable, northward on the Grinnell Land side, that I determined to test my belief gained in my last four years of work in this region, that the Greenland side of Kennedy and Robeson Channels offered as a rule more favourable opportunities for navigation than the Grinnell Land side.
ENTERING THE SMITH SOUND ICE
OPEN WATER OFF CAPE LUPTON
THE SQUEEZE NEAR “THE GAP”
Firm in my confidence in the capabilities of the Roosevelt and against all the so-called canons of Arctic navigation in this region, she was headed eastward in the afternoon of the 21st and driven into the thick of the channel pack. The ice encountered was very large and heavy, and its southward drift inevitably swept us down; still we made fair progress eastward and after a severe and protracted struggle, during which Bartlett and the mate remained continuously in the fore rigging and I in the main rigging, we broke out into loose ice off Cape Calhoun and began boring northward towards Crozier and Franklin Islands. The channel between Franklin Island and Cape Constitution was attempted and found impracticable. The main channel pack was then negotiated close under the vertical western cliffs of Franklin Island. We then had fairly good going, interrupted by barriers of heavy but rather loose ice to Joe Island.
Stopped here by an impervious jam, the Roosevelt was made fast to the ice-foot which along the southern end of the island is of most stupendous character, and accompanied by Captain Bartlett I climbed to the summit of the island, from whence we saw the eastern portion of Hall Basin clear of ice to Cape Lupton and apparently to Cape Sumner. The western portion of the basin and as far as we could see north and south along the Grinnell Land coast was densely packed with heavy ice.
With the turn of the tide the tension in the channel pack along the western shore of the island relaxed somewhat, and hurrying back to the Roosevelt, a few hours of severe work forced the barrier, and in the teeth of a strong and bitterly cold north wind which kicked up a very respectable sea and sent the spray flying over our bows, we steamed to Cape Lupton, reaching it at midnight of the 22d. While steaming through this open water we passed Thank God Harbour, the winter quarters of Hall’s Polaris on our right and Discovery Harbour, the winter quarters of the Discovery, and site of Fort Conger, on our left.
A few miles north of Cape Lupton, while smashing through a narrow tongue of ice, a sudden swirl of the current which at times runs like a mill-race in this deep channel, swept the ice together in a way that I can only liken to the sudden scurry of fallen leaves before an autumn breeze, pinched the Roosevelt between the big cakes, and smashing her against the ice-foot, ground her along its vertical face with a motion and noise like that of a railway car which has left the rails and is bumping along over the ties. Very fortunately for us she scraped into a shallow niche in the ice-wall, and was hastily secured with every available line.