A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P R S T U V W X Z

The South Pole, Volumes 1 and 2

R >> Roald Amundsen >> The South Pole, Volumes 1 and 2




I had devoted special study to this peculiar formation in the Barrier,
and had arrived at the conclusion that the inlet that exists to-day in
the Ross Barrier under the name of the Bay of Whales is nothing else
than the self-same bight that was observed by Sir James Clark Ross
-- no doubt with great changes of outline, but still the same. For
seventy years, then, this formation -- with the exception of the
pieces that had broken away -- had persisted in the same place. I
therefore concluded that it could be no accidental formation. What,
once, in the dawn of time, arrested the mighty stream of ice at this
spot and formed a lasting bay in its edge, which with few exceptions
runs in an almost straight line, was not merely a passing whim of
the fearful force that came crashing on, but something even stronger
than that -- something that was firmer than the hard ice -- namely,
the solid land. Here in this spot, then, the Barrier piled itself up
and formed the bay we now call the Bay of Whales. The observations we
made during our stay there confirm the correctness of this theory. I
therefore had no misgivings in placing our station on this part of
the Barrier.

The plan of the shore party was, as soon as the hut was built and
provisions landed, to carry supplies into the field, and lay down
depots as far to the south as possible. I hoped to get such a quantity
of provisions brought down to lat. 80° S., that we should be able to
regard this latitude as the real starting-place of the actual sledge
journey to the Pole. We shall see later that this hope was more than
fulfilled, and a labour many times greater than this was performed. By
the time this depot work was accomplished winter would be before us,
and with the knowledge we had of the conditions in the Antarctic
regions, every precaution would have to be taken to meet the coldest
and probably the most stormy weather that any Polar expedition had
hitherto encountered. My object was, when winter had once set in, and
everything in the station was in good working order, to concentrate
all our forces upon the one object -- that of reaching the Pole.

I intended to try to get people with me who were specially fitted for
outdoor work in the cold. Even more necessary was it to find men who
were experienced dog-drivers; I saw what a decisive bearing this would
have on the result. There are advantages and disadvantages in having
experienced people with one on an expedition like this. The advantages
are obvious. If a variety of experiences are brought together and
used with common sense, of course a great deal can be achieved. The
experience of one man will often come in opportunely where that
of another falls short. The experiences of several will supplement
each other, and form something like a perfect whole; this is what I
hoped to obtain. But there is no rose without a thorn; if it has its
advantages, it also has its drawbacks. The drawback to which one is
liable in this case is that someone or other may think he possesses
so much experience that every opinion but his own is worthless. It
is, of course, regrettable when experience takes this turn, but
with patience and common sense it can be broken of it. In any case,
the advantages are so great and predominant that I had determined
to have experienced men to the greatest extent possible. It was my
plan to devote the entire winter to working at our outfit, and to
get it as near to perfection as possible. Another thing to which we
should have to give some time was the killing of a sufficient number
of seals to provide fresh meat both for ourselves and our dogs for
the whole time. Scurvy, the worst enemy of Polar expeditions, must
be kept off at all costs, and to achieve this it was my intention
to use fresh meat every day. It proved easy to carry out this rule,
since everyone, without exception, preferred seal meat to tinned
foods. And when spring came I hoped that my companions and I would
be ready, fit and well, with an outfit complete in every way.

The plan was to leave the station as early in the spring as
possible. If we had set out to capture this record, we must at any
cost get there first. Everything must be staked upon this. From the
very moment when I had formed the plan, I had made up my mind that
our course from the Bay of Whales must be set due south, and follow
the same meridian, if possible, right up to the Pole. The effect
of this would be that we should traverse an entirely new region,
and gain other results besides beating the record.

I was greatly astonished to hear, on my return from the South, that
some people had actually believed we had set our course from the Bay
of Whales for Beardmore Glacier -- Shackleton's route -- and followed
it to the south. Let me hasten to assure them that this idea never
for a single instant crossed my mind when I made the plan. Scott
had announced that he was going to take Shackleton's route, and that
decided the matter. During our long stay at Framheim not one of us
ever hinted at the possibility of such a course. Without discussion
Scott's route was declared out of bounds.

No; due south was our way, and the country would have to be difficult
indeed to stop our getting on to the plateau. Our plan was to go
south, and not to leave the meridian unless we were forced to do so
by insuperable difficulties. I foresaw, of course, that there would
be some who would attack me and accuse me of "shabby rivalry," etc.,
and they would perhaps have had some shadow of justification if we had
really thought of taking Captain Scott's route. But it never occurred
to us for a moment. Our starting-point lay 350 geographical miles from
Scott's winter quarters in McMurdo Sound, so there could be no question
of encroaching upon his sphere of action. Moreover, Professor Nansen,
in his direct and convincing way, has put an end once for all to this
twaddle, so that I need not dwell upon it any longer.

I worked out the plan, as here given, at my home on Bundefjord, near
Christiania, in September, 1909, and as it was laid, so was it carried
out to the last detail. That my estimate of the time it would take
was not so very far out is proved by the final sentence of the plan:
"Thus we shall be back from the Polar journey on January 25." It was
on January 25, 1912, that we came into Framheim after our successful
journey to the Pole.

This was not the only time our calculations proved correct; Captain
Nilsen showed himself to be a veritable magician in this way. While I
contented myself with reckoning dates, he did not hesitate to go into
hours. He calculated that we should reach the Barrier on January 15,
1911; this is a distance of 16,000 geographical miles from Norway. We
were at the Barrier on January 14, one day before the time. There
was not much wrong with that estimate.

In accordance with the Storthing's resolution of February 9, 1909,
the Fram was lent for the use of the expedition, and a sum of 75,000
kroner (4,132 pounds sterling) was voted for repairs and necessary
alterations.

The provisions were chosen with the greatest care, and packed with
every precaution. All groceries were soldered in tin boxes, and then
enclosed in strong wooden cases. The packing of tinned provisions
is of enormous importance to a Polar expedition; it is impossible to
give too much attention to this part of the supplies. Any carelessness,
any perfunctory packing on the part of the factory, will as a rule lead
to scurvy. It is an interesting fact that on the four Norwegian Polar
expeditions -- the three voyages of the Fram and the Gjöa's voyage --
not a single case of scurvy occurred. This is good evidence of the
care with which these expeditions were provisioned.

In this matter we owe a deep debt of gratitude above all to Professor
Sophus Torup, who has always been the supervising authority in the
matter of provisioning, this time as well as on the former occasions.

Great praise is also due to the factories that supplied our tinned
goods. By their excellent and conscientious work they deserved well
of the expedition. In this case a part of the supplies was entrusted
to a Stavanger factory, which, in addition to the goods supplied to
order, with great generosity placed at the disposal of the expedition
provisions to the value of 2,000 kroner (£110). The other half of the
tinned foods required was ordered from a firm at Moss. The manager
of this firm undertook at the same time to prepare the necessary
pemmican for men and dogs, and executed this commission in a way that
I cannot sufficiently praise. Thanks to this excellent preparation,
the health both of men and dogs on the journey to the Pole was always
remarkably good. The pemmican we took was essentially different from
that which former expeditions had used. Previously the pemmican had
contained nothing but the desired mixture of dried meat and lard;
ours had, besides these, vegetables and oatmeal, an addition which
greatly improves its flavour, and, as far as we could judge, makes
it easier to digest.

This kind of pemmican was first produced for the use of the Norwegian
Army; it was intended to take the place of the "emergency ration." The
experiment was not concluded at the time the expedition left, but
it may be hoped that the result has proved satisfactory. A more
stimulating, nourishing, and appetizing food, it would be impossible
to find.

But besides the pemmican for ourselves, that for our dogs was equally
important, for they are just as liable to be attacked by scurvy as
we men. The same care had therefore to be devoted to the preparation
of their food. We obtained from Moss two kinds of pemmican, one made
with fish and the other with meat. Both kinds contained, besides the
dried fish (or meat) and lard, a certain proportion of dried milk
and middlings. Both kinds were equally excellent, and the dogs were
always in splendid condition. The pemmican was divided into rations of
1 pound 1.5 ounces, and could be served out to the dogs as it was. But
before we should be able to use this pemmican we had a five months'
voyage before us, and for this part of the expedition I had to look
for a reliable supply of dried fish. This I found through the agent of
the expedition at Tromsö, Mr. Fritz Zappfe. Two well-known firms also
placed large quantities of the best dried fish at my disposal. With
all this excellent fish and some barrels of lard we succeeded in
bringing our dogs through in the best of condition.

One of the most important of our preparations was to find good
dogs. As I have said, I had to act with decision and promptitude if
I was to succeed in getting everything in order. The day after my
decision was made, therefore, I was on my way to Copenhagen, where
the Inspectors for Greenland, Messrs. Daugaard-Jensen and Bentzen,
were to be found at that moment. The director of the Royal Greenland
Trading Company, Mr. Rydberg, showed, as before, the most friendly
interest in my undertaking, and gave the inspectors a free hand. I then
negotiated with these gentlemen, and they undertook to provide 100
of the finest Greenland dogs and to deliver them in Norway in July,
1910. The dog question was thus as good as solved, since the choice
was placed in the most expert hands. I was personally acquainted
with Inspector Daugaard-Jensen from former dealings with him, and
knew that whatever he undertook would be performed with the greatest
conscientiousness. The administration of the Royal Greenland Trading
Company gave permission for the dogs to be conveyed free of charge
on board the Hans Egede and delivered at Christiansand.

Before I proceed to our further equipment, I must say a few more
words about the dogs. The greatest difference between Scott's and
my equipment lay undoubtedly in our choice of draught animals. We
had heard that Scott, relying on his own experience, and that of
Shackleton, had come to the conclusion that Manchurian ponies were
superior to dogs on the Barrier. Among those who were acquainted with
the Eskimo dog, I do not suppose I was the only one who was startled
on first hearing this. Afterwards, as I read the different narratives
and was able to form an accurate opinion of the conditions of surface
and going, my astonishment became even greater. Although I had never
seen this part of the Antarctic regions, I was not long in forming
an opinion diametrically opposed to that of Shackleton and Scott, for
the conditions both of going and surface were precisely what one would
desire for sledging with Eskimo dogs, to judge from the descriptions
of these explorers. If Peary could make a record trip on the Arctic
ice with dogs, one ought, surely, with equally good tackle, to be
able to beat Peary's record on the splendidly even surface of the
Barrier. There must be some misunderstanding or other at the bottom
of the Englishmen's estimate of the Eskimo dog's utility in the Polar
regions. Can it be that the dog has not understood his master? Or
is it the master who has not understood his dog? The right footing
must be established from the outset; the dog must understand that
he has to obey in everything, and the master must know how to make
himself respected. If obedience is once established, I am convinced
that the dog will be superior to all other draught animals over these
long distances.

Another very important reason for using the dog is that this small
creature can much more easily cross the numerous slight snow-bridges
that are not to be avoided on the Barrier and on the glaciers. If a
dog falls into a crevasse there is no great harm done; a tug at his
harness and he is out again; but it is another matter with a pony. This
comparatively large and heavy animal of course falls through far more
easily, and if this happens, it is a long and stiff job to get the
beast hauled up again -- unless, indeed, the traces have broken and
the pony lies at the bottom of a crevasse 1,000 feet deep.

And then there is the obvious advantage that dog can be fed on
dog. One can reduce one's pack little by little, slaughtering the
feebler ones and feeding the chosen with them. In this way they get
fresh meat. Our dogs lived on dog's flesh and pemmican the whole way,
and this enabled them to do splendid work.

And if we ourselves wanted a piece of fresh meat we could cut off a
delicate little fillet; it tasted to us as good as the best beef. The
dogs do not object at all; as long as they get their share they do not
mind what part of their comrade's carcass it comes from. All that was
left after one of these canine meals was the teeth of the victim --
and if it had been a really hard day, these also disappeared.

If we take a step farther, from the Barrier to the plateau, it would
seem that every doubt of the dog's superiority must disappear. Not
only can one get the dogs up over the huge glaciers that lead to the
plateau, but one can make full use of them the whole way. Ponies, on
the other hand, have to be left at the foot of the glacier, while the
men themselves have the doubtful pleasure of acting as ponies. As I
understand Shackleton's account, there can be no question of hauling
the ponies over the steep and crevassed glaciers. It must be rather
hard to have to abandon one's motive power voluntarily when only a
quarter of the distance has been covered. I for my part prefer to
use it all the way.

From the very beginning I saw that the first part of our expedition,
from Norway to the Barrier, would be the most dangerous section. If we
could only reach the Barrier with our dogs safe and well, the future
would be bright enough. Fortunately all my comrades took the same view
of the matter, and with their cooperation we succeeded not only in
bringing the dogs safely to our field of operations, but in landing
them in far better condition than when we received them. Their number
was also considerably increased on the way, which seems to be another
proof of a flourishing state of things. To protect them against damp
and heat we laid a loose deck of planed boards about 3 inches above
the fixed deck, an arrangement by which all the rain and spray ran
underneath the dogs. In this way we kept them out of the water, which
must always be running from side to side on the deck of a deep-laden
vessel on her way to the Antarctic Ocean. Going through the tropics
this loose deck did double service. It always afforded a somewhat cool
surface, as there was a fresh current of air between the two decks. The
main deck, which was black with tar, would have been unbearably hot
for the animals; the false deck was high, and kept fairly white during
the whole voyage. We carried awnings in addition, chiefly on account
of the dogs. These awnings could be stretched over the whole vessel
and give the dogs constant protection from the burning sun.

I still cannot help smiling when I think of the compassionate voices
that were raised here and there -- and even made their way into
print -- about the "cruelty to animals" on board the Fram. Presumably
these cries came from tender-hearted individuals who themselves kept
watch-dogs tied up.

Besides our four-footed companions, we took with us a two-footed one,
not so much on account of the serious work in the Polar regions as for
pleasant entertainment on the way. This was our canary "Fridtjof." It
was one of the many presents made to the expedition, and not the
least welcome of them. It began to sing as soon as it came on board,
and has now kept it going on two circumnavigations through the most
inhospitable waters of the earth. It probably holds the record as a
Polar traveller among its kind.

Later on we had a considerable collection of various families: pigs,
fowls, sheep, cats, and -- rats. Yes, unfortunately, we knew what it
was to have rats on board, the most repulsive of all creatures, and
the worst vermin I know of. But we have declared war against them,
and off they shall go before the Fram starts on her next voyage. We
got them in Buenos Aires, and the best thing will be to bury them in
their native land.

On account of the rather straitened circumstances the expedition had
to contend with, I had to look twice at every shilling before I spent
it. Articles of clothing are an important factor in a Polar expedition,
and I consider it necessary that the expedition should provide each
of its members with the actual "Polar clothing." If one left this
part of the equipment to each individual, I am afraid things would
look badly before the journey was done. I must admit that there was
some temptation to do this. It would have been very much cheaper if
I had simply given each man a list of what clothes he was required
to provide for himself. But by so doing I should have missed the
opportunity of personally supervising the quality of the clothing to
the extent I desired.

It was not an outfit that cut a dash by its appearance, but it was warm
and strong. From the commissariat stores at Horten I obtained many
excellent articles. I owe Captain Pedersen, the present chief of the
Commissariat Department, my heartiest thanks for the courtesy he always
showed me when I came to get things out of him. Through him I had about
200 blankets served out to me. Now, the reader must not imagine a bed
and bedding, such as he may see exhibited in the windows of furniture
shops, with thick, white blankets, so delicate that in spite of their
thickness they look as if they might float away of their own accord,
so light and fine do they appear. It was not blankets like these
that Captain Pedersen gave us; we should not have known what to do
with them if he had. The blankets the commissariat gave us were of an
entirely different sort. As to their colour -- well, I can only call
it indeterminable -- and they did not give one the impression that
they would float away either, if one let go of them. No, they would
keep on the ground right enough; they were felted and pressed together
into a thick, hard mass. From the dawn of time they had served our
brave warriors at sea, and it is by no means impossible that some of
them had gruesome stories to tell of the days of Tordenskjold. The
first thing I did, on obtaining possession of these treasures, was
to get them into the dyeing-vat. They were unrecognizable when I
got them back -- in ultramarine blue, or whatever it was called. The
metamorphosis was complete: their warlike past was wiped out.

My intention was to have these two hundred blankets made into Polar
clothing, and I took counsel with myself how I might get this done. To
disclose the origin of the stuff would be an unfortunate policy. No
tailor in the world would make clothes out of old blankets, I was
pretty sure of that. I had to hit upon some stratagem. I heard of
a man who was a capable worker at his trade, and asked him to come
and see me. My office looked exactly like a woollen warehouse, with
blankets everywhere. The tailor arrived. "Was that the stuff?" "Yes,
that was it. Just imported from abroad. A great bargain. A lot of
samples dirt cheap." I had put on my most innocent and unconcerned
expression. I saw the tailor glance at me sideways; I suppose he
thought the samples were rather large. "A closely woven stuff,"
said he, holding it up to the light. "I could almost swear it was
'felted.' " We went carefully through every single sample, and took
the number. It was a long and tedious business, and I was glad when
I saw that at last we were nearing the end. Over in a corner there
lay a few more; we had reached the one hundred and ninety-third, so
there could not be many in the pile. I was occupied with something
else, and the tailor went through the remainder by himself. I was
just congratulating myself on the apparently fortunate result of the
morning's work when I was startled by an exclamation from the man
in the corner. It sounded like the bellow of a mad bull. Alas! there
stood the tailor enveloped in ultramarine, and swinging over his head
a blanket, the couleur changeante of which left no doubt as to the
origin of the "directly imported" goods. With a look of thunder the man
quitted me, and I sank in black despair. I never saw him again. The
fact was that in my hurry I had forgotten the sample blanket that
Captain Pedersen had sent me. That was the cause of the catastrophe.

Well, I finally succeeded in getting the work executed, and it is
certain that no expedition has ever had warmer and stronger clothing
than this. It was in great favour on board.

I also thought it best to provide good oilskins, and especially
good sea-boots for every man. The sea-boots were therefore made to
measure, and of the very best material. I had them made by the firm
I have always regarded as the best in that branch. How, then, shall
I describe our grief when, on the day we were to wear our beautiful
sea-boots, we discovered that most of them were useless? Some of the
men could dance a hornpipe in theirs without taking the boots off
the deck. Others, by exerting all their strength, could not squeeze
their foot through the narrow way and reach paradise. The leg was so
narrow that even the most delicate little foot could not get through
it, and to make up for this the foot of the boot was so huge that
it could comfortably accommodate twice as much as its owner could
show. Very few were able to wear their boots. We tried changing,
but that was no use; the boots were not made for any creatures of
this planet. But sailors are sailors wherever they may be; it is not
easy to beat them. Most of them knew the proverb that one pair of
boots that fit is better than ten pairs that you can't put on, and
had brought their own with them. And so we got out of that difficulty.

We took three sets of linen underclothing for every man, to wear
in the warm regions. This part of the equipment was left to each
individual; most men possess a few old shirts, and not much more is
wanted through the tropics. For the cold regions there were two sets
of extra thick woollen underclothing, two thick hand-knitted woollen
jerseys, six pairs of knitted stockings, Iceland and other lighter
jackets, socks and stockings from the penitentiary.

Besides these we had a quantity of clothing from the army depots. I
owe many thanks to General Keilhau for the kind way in which he fell
in with all my wishes. From this quarter we obtained outer clothing for
both cold and warm climates, underclothes, boots, shoes, wind-clothing,
and cloths of different kinds.

As the last item of our personal equipment I may mention that each
man had a suit of sealskin from Greenland. Then there were such things
as darning-wool, sewing-yarn, needles of all possible sizes, buttons,
scissors, tapes -- broad and narrow, black and white, blue and red. I
may safely assert that nothing was forgotten; we were well and amply
equipped in every way.

Another side of our preparations which claimed some attention was
the fitting up of the quarters we were to inhabit, the saloons and
cabins. What an immense difference it makes if one lives in comfortable
surroundings. For my part, I can do twice the amount of work when I
see tidiness and comfort around me. The saloons on the Fram were very
handsomely and tastefully fitted. Here we owe, in the first place, our
respectful thanks to King Haakon and Queen Maud for the photographs
they presented to us; they were the most precious of our gifts. The
ladies of Horten gave us a number of pretty things for decorating the
cabins, and they will no doubt be glad to hear of the admiration they
aroused wherever we went. "Is this really a Polar ship?" people asked;
"we expected to see nothing but wooden benches and bare walls." And
they began to talk about "boudoirs" and things of that sort. Besides
splendid embroideries, our walls were decorated with the most wonderful
photographs; it would have rejoiced the giver of these to hear all
the words of praise that have been bestowed upon them.

Copyright (c) 2007. famouswriterz.com. All rights reserved.