 XVI. Sunday March 11. A snowshoe run northwards, temperature minus fifty degrees Celsius, fifty-eight degrees Fahrenheit below zero and ten feet wind from north northeast. We did not feel the cold very much though it was rather bad for the stomach and thighs as none of us had our wind trousers on. We wore our usual dress of a pair of ordinary trousers and woolen pants, a shirt and wolfskin cloak or a common woolen suit with a light seal skin jacket over it. For the first time in my life I felt my thighs frozen, especially just over the knee and on the kneecap. My companions also suffered in the same way. This was after going a long while against the wind. We rubbed our legs a little and they soon got warm again, but had we kept on much longer without noticing it we should probably have been severely frostbitten. In other respects we did not suffer the least inconvenience from the cold. On the contrary, found the temperature agreeable and I am convinced that ten degrees, twenty degrees or even thirty degrees lower would not have been unendurable. It is strange how one's sensations alter. When at home I find it unpleasant if I only go out of doors when there are some twenty degrees of cold, even in calm weather. But here I don't find it any colder when I turn out in fifty degrees of cold with the wind into the bargain. Sitting in a warm room at home one gets exaggerated ideas about the terribleness of the cold. It is really not in the least terrible. We all of us find ourselves very well in it, though sometimes one or another of us does not take quite so long a walk as usual when a strong wind is blowing and will even turn back for the cold. But that is when he is only lightly clad and has no wind close on. This evening it is fifty one point two degrees Fahrenheit below zero and fourteen and a half feet north northeast wind. Brilliant northern lights in the south. Already there is a very marked twilight even at midnight. Monday March twelfth, slowly drifting southwards, took a long snowshoe run alone towards the north. Today head on my wind breeches but found them almost too warm. This morning it was fifty one point six degrees Fahrenheit below zero and about thirteen feet north wind. At noon it was some degrees warmer. Ugg, this north wind is freshening. The barometer has risen again and I had thought the wind would have changed but it is and remains the same. This is what March brings us, the month on which my hopes relied. Now I must wait for the summer. Soon the half year will be passed. It will leave us about in the same place as when it began. Ugg, I am weary, so weary, let me sleep, sleep. Come sleep. Noiselessly close the door of the soul. Stay the flowing stream of thought. Come dreams and let the sun beam over the snullest strand of Gotthub. Wednesday March fourteenth. In the evening the dogs all at once began to bark as we supposed on a count of bears. Sphere-drip and I took our guns, let Ulenka and Pan loose and set off. There was twilight still and the moon moreover began to shine. No sooner were the dogs on the ice than off they started westward like a couple of rockets, we after them as quickly as we could. As I was jumping over a lane I thrust one leg through the ice up to the knee. Oddly enough I did not get wet through to the skin, though I only had fin shoes and freeze-gaters on, but in this temperature, thirty-eight degrees Fahrenheit below zero, minus thirty-nine degrees Celsius, the water freezes on the cold cloth before it can penetrate it. I felt nothing of it afterwards. It became, as it were, a plate of ice armor that almost helped to keep me warm. At a channel some distance off we had last discovered that it was not a bear the dogs had winded but either a walrus or a seal. We saw holes in several places on the fresh-formed ice where it had stuck its head through. What a wonderfully keen nose those dogs must have. It was quite two-thirds of a mile from the ship and the creature had only had just a little bit of its snout above the ice. We returned to the ship to get a harpoon but saw no more of the animal, though we went several times up and down the channel. Meanwhile Pan in his zeal got too near the edge of the lane and fell into the water. The ice was so high that he could not get up on it again without help, and if I had not been there to haul him up I'm afraid he would have been drowned. He is now lying in the saloon and making himself comfortable and drying himself, but he too did not get wet through to the skin, though he was a good time in the water. The inner hair of his close coarse coat is quite dry and warm. The dogs look on it as a high tree to come in here for they are not often allowed to do so. They go round all the cabins and look out for a comfortable corner to lie down in. Lovely weather, almost calm, sparklingly bright and moonshine. In the north the faint flush of evening and the aurora over the southern sky, now like a row of flaming spears, then changing into a silvery veil, undulating in wavy folds with the wind, every here and there interspersed with red sprays. These wonderful night effects are ever new and never fail to captivate the soul. Thursday, March 15th, this morning forty-one point seven degrees and at eight o'clock p.m. forty point seven degrees Fahrenheit below zero, while the daytime was rather warmer. At noon it was forty point five degrees and at four p.m. 39 degrees Fahrenheit below zero. It would almost seem as if the sun began to have power. The dogs are strange creatures. This evening they are probably sweltering in their kennels again, for four or five of them are lying outside or on the roof. When there is fifty degrees of cold most of them huddled together inside and lie as close to one another as possible. Then, too, they are very loathed to go out for a walk. They prefer to lie in the sun under the lee of the ship. But now they find it so mild and such pleasant walking that today it was not difficult to get them to follow. Friday, March 16th, Sverdrub has of late been occupied in making sails for the ship's boats. Today there was a light southwesterly breeze so we tried one of the sails on two-hand sledges lashed together. It is first-rate sailing and does not require much wind to make them glide along. This would be a great assistance if we had to go home over the ice. Wednesday, March 21st. At length a reaction has set in. The wind is southeast and there is a strong drift northwards again. The equinox is past and we are not one degree further north since the last equinox. I wonder where the next will find us. Should it be more to the south, then victory is uncertain. If more to the north, the battle is won, though it may last long. I'm looking forward to the summer. It must bring a change with it. The open water we sailed in up here cannot possibly be produced by the melting of the ice alone. It must be also due to the winds and current, and if the ice in which we are now drifts so far to the north as to make room for all this open water we shall have covered a good bit on our way. It would seem indeed as if summer must bring northerly winds with a cold arctic sea in the north and warm Siberia in the south. This makes me somewhat dubious, but on the other hand we have warm seas in the west. They may be stronger, and the Jeanette moreover drifted northwest. It is strange that notwithstanding these westerly winds we do not drift eastwards. The last longitude was only 135 degrees east longitude. Monday, Thursday, March 22nd. A strong southeast westerly wind still, and a good drift northwards. Our spirits are rising. The wind whistles through the rigging overhead, and sounds like the suf of victory through the air. In the forenoon one of the puppies had a severe attack of convulsions. It foamed at the mouth and bit furiously at everything round it. It ended with tetanus and we carried it out and laid it down on the ice. It hopped about like a toad, its legs stiff and extended, neck and head pointing upwards while its back was curved like a saddle. I was afraid it might be hydrophobia or some other infectious sickness and shot it on the spot. Perhaps I was rather too hasty. We can scarcely have an infection among us now. But what could it have been? Was it an epileptic attack? The other day one of the other puppies alarmed me by running round and round in the charthouse as if it were mad, hiding itself after a time between a chest and the wall. Some of the others too had seen it do the same thing, but after a while it got all right again, and for the last few days there has been nothing amiss with it. Good Friday, March 23. Noonday observation gives 80 degrees north latitude. In four days and nights we have drifted as far north as we drifted southwards in three weeks. It is a comfort at all events to know that. It is remarkable how quickly the nights have grown light. Even stars of the first magnitude can now barely manage to twinkle in the pale sky at midnight. Saturday, March 24. Easter Eve. Today a notable event has occurred. We have allowed the light of spring to enter the saloon. During the whole of the winter the skylight was covered with snow to keep the cold out and the dog's kennels moreover had been placed round it. Now we have thrown out all the snow upon the ice and the panes of glass in the skylight have been duly cleared and cleaned. Monday, March 26. We are lying motionless, no drift. How long will this last? Last equinox, how proud and triumphant I was. The whole world looked bright, but now I am proud no longer. The sun mounts up and bathes the ice plain with its radiance. Spring is coming but brings no joys with it. Here it is as lonely and cold as ever. One's soul freezes. Seven more years of such life, or say only four, how will the soul appear then? And she? If I dared to let my longings loose, to let my soul thaw, ah, I long more than I dare confess. I have not courage to think of the future, and how will it be at home when year after year rolls by and no one comes? I know this is all a morbid mood, but still this inactive, lifeless monotony without any change rings one's very soul. No struggle, no possibility of struggle. All is so still and dead, so stiff and shrunken under the mantle of ice. Ah, the very soul freezes. What I would not give for a single day of struggle, for even a moment of danger. Still I must wait and watch the drift, but should it take a wrong direction, then I will break all the bridges behind me and stake everything on a northward march over the ice. I know nothing better to do. It will be a hazardous journey, a matter may be of life or death, but have I any other choice? It is unworthy of a man to set himself a task and then give in when the brunt of the battle is upon him. There is but one way and that is from forwards. Tuesday March 27th. We are again drifting southwards and the wind is northerly. The midday observation showed 80 degrees four minutes north latitude, but why so dispirited? I am staring myself blind at one single point, am thinking solely of reaching the pole and forcing our way through to the Atlantic Ocean. And all the time our real task is to explore the unknown polar regions. Are we doing nothing in the service of science? It will be a goodly collection of observations that we shall take home with us from this region with which we are now rather too well acquainted. The rest is and remains a mere matter of vanity. Love truth more and victory less. I look at Isle of Pettersons picture, a Norwegian pine forest, and I am there in spirit. How marvelously lovely it is there now in the spring in the dim melancholy stillness that rains among the stately stems. I can feel the damp moss in which my foot sinks softly and noiselessly. The brook released from the winter bondage is murmuring through the clefts and among the rocks, with its brownish yellow water. The air is full of the scent of moss and pine needles, while overhead against the light blue sky the dark pine tops rock to and fro in the spring breeze ever uttering their murmuring wail and beneath their shelter the soul fearlessly expands its wings and cools itself in the forest dew. Oh, solemn pine forest, the only confident of my childhood, it was from you I learned nature's deepest tones, its wildness, its melancholy, you colored my soul for life. Alone far in the forest, beside the glowing embers of my fire on the shore of the silent murky woodland tarn with the gloom of night overhead, how happy I used to be in the enjoyment of nature's harmony. Thursday, March 29th, it is wonderful for to change it makes to have daylight once more in the saloon. On turning out for breakfast and seeing the light gleaming in one feels that it really is morning. We are busy on board, sales are being made for the boats and hand sledges. The wind mill too is to have fresh sails so that it can go in any kind of weather. Ah, if we could but give the from wings as well. Knives are being forged, bear spears which we never have any use for, bear traps in which we never catch a bear, axes and many other things of like usefulness. For the moment there is a great manufacture of wooden shoes going on and a newly started nail making industry. The only shareholders in this company are Sverdrup and Smith Lars called Storm King because he always comes upon us like hard weather. The output is excellent and is in active demand as all our small nails for the hand sledge fittings have been used. Moreover we are very busy putting German silver plates under the runners of the hand sledges and providing appliances for lashing sledges together. There is more over a workshop for snowshoe fastenings and a tinsmith's shop busy for the moment with repairs to the lamps. Our doctor too for lack of patience has set up a book binding establishment which is greatly patronized by the Fram's library where of several books that are in constant circulation such as yes Bortsons leave a Levenet etc etc are in a very bad state. We have also a Sadler's and Sailmaker's workshop, a photographic studio etc etc. The manufacture of diaries however is the most extensive. Every man on board works at that. In fine there is no thing between heaven and earth that we cannot turn out accepting constant fair wins. Our workshop can be highly recommended. They turn out good solid work. We have lately had a notable addition to our industries, the firm Nansen and Amundsen having established a music factory. The cardboard plates of the organ had suffered greatly from wear and damp so that we had been deplorably short of music during the winter. But yesterday I set to work in Ernest to manufacture a plate of zinc. It answers admirably and now we shall go ahead with music sacred and profane especially valses and these halls shall once more resound with the peeling tones of the organ to our great comfort and edification. When a vals is struck up it breathes fresh life into many of the inmates of the Fram. I complain of the wearing monotony of our surroundings but in reality I am unjust. The last few days dazzling sunshine over the snow hills. Today snowstorm and wind the Fram enveloped in a whirl of foaming white snow. Soon the sun appears again and the waste around gleams as before. Here too there is sentiment in nature. How often when least thinking of it do I find myself paws spellbound by the marvelous hues which evening wears. The ice hills steeped in bluish violet shadows against the orange tinted sky illuminated by the glow of the setting sun. Form as it were a strange color poem imprinting an ineffacable picture on the soul. And these bright dreamlike nights how many associations they have for us Northmen. One pictures to oneself those mornings in spring when one went out into the forest after black cock under the dim stars and with the pale crescent moon peering over the treetops. Dawn with its glowing hues up here in the north is the breaking of a spring day over the forest wilds at home. The hazy blue vapor beneath the morning glow turns to the fresh early mist over the marshes. The dark low clouds on a background of dim red seem like distant ranges of hills. Daylight here with its rigid lifeless whiteness has no attractions but the evening and night thaw the heart of this world of ice. It dreams mournful dreams and you seem to hear in the hues of the evening sounds of its smothered whale. Soon these will cease and the sun will circle round the everlasting light blue expanse of heaven imparting one uniform color today and night alike. Friday April 6th. A remarkable event was to take place today which naturally we all looked forward to with lively interest. It was an eclipse of the sun. During the night Hansen had made a calculation that the eclipse would begin at twelve fifty-six o'clock. It was important for us to be able to get a good observation as we should thus be able to regulate our chronometers to a nicety. In order to make everything sure we set up our instruments a couple of hours beforehand and commenced to observe. We used the large telescope and our large theodolite. Hansen, Johansson and myself took it by turns to sit for five minutes each at the instruments watching the rim of the sun as we expected a shadow would become visible on its lower western edge while another stood by with the watch. We remained thus full two hours without anything occurring. The exciting moment was now at hand when according to calculation the shadow should first be apparent. Hansen was sitting by the large telescope when he thought he could discern a quivering in the sun's rim. Thirty-three seconds afterwards he cried out, now, as did Johansson simultaneously. The watch was then at twelve hours fifty-six minutes seven point five seconds. A dark body advanced over the border of the sun seven and a half seconds later than we had calculated on. It was an immense satisfaction for us all, especially for Hansen, for it proved our chronometers to be in excellent order. Little by little the sunlight sensibly faded away while we went below to dinner. At two o'clock the eclipse was at its height and we could notice even down in the saloon how the daylight had diminished. After dinner we observed the moment when the eclipse ended and the moon's dark disc cleared the rim of the sun. Sunday, April 8th. I was lying awake yesterday morning thinking about getting up when all at once I heard the hurried footsteps of someone running over the half-deck above me and then another followed. There was something in those footsteps that involuntarily made me think of bears and I had a hazy sort of an idea that I ought to jump up out of bed, but I lay still listening for the report of a gun. I heard nothing, however, and soon fell a-dreaming again. Presently, Hansen came tearing down into the saloon, crying out that a couple of bears were lying half or quite dead on the large ice-hummock astern of the ship. He and Mogsted had shot at them, but they had no more cartridges left. Several of the men seized hold of their guns and hurried up. I threw on my clothes and came up a little after when I gathered that the bears had taken to flight as I could see the other fellows following them over the ice. As I was putting on my snowshoes they returned and said that the bears had made off. However, I started after them as fast as my snowshoes would take me across the flows and the pressure ridges. I soon got on their tracks, which at first were a little bloodstained. It was a she-bear with her cub and, as I believed, hard hit. The she-bear had fallen down several times after Johansson's first bullet. I thought, therefore, it would be no difficult matter to overtake them. Several of the dogs were on ahead of me on their tracks. They had taken a northwesterly course and I toiled on, perspiring profusely in the sun while the ship sank deeper and deeper down below the horizon. The surface of the snow, sparkling with its eternal whiteness all round me, tried my eyes severely and I seemed to get no nearer the bears. My prospects of coming up with them were ruined by the dogs, who were keen enough to frighten the bears, but not so keen as to press on and bring them to bay. I would not, however, give up. Presently a fog came on and hid everything from view except the bear tracks, which steadily pointed forward. Then it lifted and the sun shone out again clear and bright as before. The From's masts had long since disappeared over the edge of the ice, but still I kept on. Presently, however, I began to feel faint and hungry, for in my hurry I had not even had my breakfast, and at last had to bite the sour apple and turn back without any bears. On my way I came across a remarkable hummock. It was over twenty feet in height. I could not manage to measure it quite to the top. The middle part had fallen in, probably from pressure of the ice, while the remaining part formed a magnificent triumphal arch of the whitest marble on which the sun glittered with all its brilliancy. Was it erected to celebrate my defeat? I got upon it to look out for the From, but had to go some distance yet before I could see her rigging over the horizon. It was not till half past five in the afternoon that I found myself on board again, worn out and famished from this sudden and unexpected excursion. After a day's fasting I hardly relished a good meal. During my absence some of the others had started after me with a sledge to draw home the dead bears that I had shot, but they had barely reached the spot where the encounter had taken place when Johansson and Blessing, who were in advance of the others, saw two fresh bears spring up from behind a hummock a little way off. But before they could get their guns in readiness the bears were out of range, so a new hunt began. Johansson tore after them in his snowshoes, but several of the dogs got in front of him and kept the bears going so that he could not get within range and his chase ended as fruitlessly as mine. Has good luck abandoned us? I had plumed myself on our never having shot at a single bear without bagging it, but to-day. Odd that we should get a visit from four bears on one day after having seen nothing of them for three months. Does it signify something? Have we got near the land in the northwest which I have so long expected? There seems to be change in the air, and observation the day before yesterday gave eighty degrees fifteen minutes north latitude, the most northerly we have had yet. Sunday, April 15th. So we are in the middle of April, what a ring of joy in that word, a wellspring of happiness. Visions of spring rise up in the soul at its very mention, a time when doors and windows are thrown wide open to the spring air and sun, and the dust of winter is blown away. A time when one can no longer sit still, but must perforce go out of doors to inhale the perfume of wood and field and fresh dug earth, and behold the fjord free from ice sparkling in the sunlight. What an inexhaustible fund of the awakening joys of nature does that word April contain. But here, here that is not to be found. True the sun shines long and bright, but its beams fall not on forest or mountain or meadow, but only on the dazzling whiteness of the fresh fallen snow. Scarcely does it entice one out from one's winter retreat. This is not the time of revolutions here, if they come at all they will come much later. The days roll on uniformly and monotonously. Here I sit and feel no touch of the restless longings of the spring, and shut myself up in the snail shell of my studies. Day after day I dive down into the world of the microscope, forgetful of time and surroundings. Now and then indeed I may make a little excursion from darkness to light, the daylight beams around me, and my soul opens a tiny loophole for light and courage to enter in, and then down, down into the darkness and to work once more. Before turning in for the night I must go on deck. A little while ago the daylight would by this time have vanished. A few solitary stars would have been faintly twinkling while the pale moon shone over the ice. But now even this has come to an end. The sun no longer sinks beneath the icy horizon, it is continual day. I gaze into the far distance, far over the barren plain of snow. A boundless silent and lifeless mass of ice in imperceptible motion. No sound can be heard save the faint murmur of the air through the rigging, or perhaps far away the low rumble of packing ice. In the midst of this empty waste of white there is but one little dark spot and that is the from. But beneath this crust hundreds of fathoms down there teams a world of checkered life in all its changing forms. A world of the same composition as ours with the same instincts, the same sorrows, and also no doubt the same joys. Everywhere the same struggle for existence. So it ever is. If we penetrate within even the hardest shell we come upon the pulsations of life however thick the crust may be. I seem to be sitting here in solitude listening to the music of one of nature's mighty harp strings. Her grand symphonies peel forth through the endless ages of the universe, now in the tumultuous whirl of busy life, now in the stiffening coldness of death as in Chopin's funeral march, and we, we are the minute invisible vibrations of the strings in this mighty music of the universe ever changing yet ever the same. Its notes are worlds, one vibrates for a longer, another for a shorter period, and all in turn give way to new ones. The world that shall be again and again this thought comes back to my mind. I gaze far on through the ages. Slowly and imperceptibly the heat of the sun declines, and the temperature of the earth sinks by equally slow degrees. Thousands, hundreds of thousands, millions of years pass away. Glacial epochs come and go, but the heat still grows ever less. Little by little these drifting masses of ice extend far and wide ever towards more southern shores and no one notices it. But at last all the seas of earth become one unbroken mass of ice. Life has vanished from its surface and is to be found in the ocean depths alone. But the temperature continues to fall. The ice grows thicker and thicker. Life's domain vanishes. Millions of years roll on and the ice reaches the bottom. The last trace of life has disappeared. The earth is covered with snow. All that we lived for is no longer. The fruit of all our toil and sufferings has been blotted out millions and millions of years ago, buried beneath a pall of snow. A stiffened, lifeless mass of ice this earth rolls on in her path through eternity. Like a faintly glowing disc the sun crosses the sky. The moon shines no more and is scarcely visible. Yet still perhaps the northern lights flicker over the desert icy plain and still the stars twinkle in silence peacefully as of yore. Some have burnt out but new ones usurp their place and round them revolve new spheres teeming with new life, new sufferings without any aim. Such is the infinite cycle of eternity. Such are nature's everlasting rhythms. Monday, April 30th, drifting northwards. Yesterday observations gave 80 degrees 42 minutes and today 80 degrees 44 and a half minutes. The wind steady from the south and southeast. It is lovely spring weather. One feels that springtime must have come though the thermometer denies it. Spring cleaning has begun on board. The snow and ice along the from sides are cleared away and she stands out like the crags from their winter covering decked with flowers of spring. The snow lying on the deck is little by little shoveled over board. Her rigging rises up against the clear sky clean and dark and the gilt trucks at her mast heads sparkle in the sun. We go and bathe ourselves in the broiling sun along her warm sides where the thermometer is actually above freezing point. Smoke a peaceful pipe gazing at the white spring clouds that lightly fleet across the blue expanse. Some of us perhaps think of springtime yonder at home when the birch trees are bursting into leaf. End of file 14. File 15 of Farthest North Volume 1. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain recording by Sharon Riscadal. Farthest North by Fritaf Nansen Volume 1. Chapter 7 The Spring and Summer of 1894 Part 1 So came the season which we at home call spring, the season of joy and budding life when nature awakens after her long winter sleep. But there it brought no change. Day after day we had to gaze over the same white lifeless mass, the same white boundless ice plains. Still we wavered between despondency, idle longing, and eager energy, shifting with the winds as we drift forwards to our goal or are driven back from it. As before I continued to brood upon the possibilities of the future and of our drift. One day I would think that everything was going on as we hoped and anticipated. Thus on April 17th I was convinced that there must be a current through the unknown polar basin as we were unmistakably drifting northwards. The midday observation gave eighty degrees twenty minutes northeast, that is nine minutes since the day before yesterday. Strange, a north wind of four whole days took us to the south, while twenty-four hours of this scanty wind drifts us nine minutes northwards. This is remarkable. It looks as if we were done with drifting southwards. And when in addition to this I take into consideration the striking warps of the water deep down, it seems to me that things are really looking brighter. The reasoning runs as follows. The temperature of the water in the east Greenland current, even on the surface, is nowhere over zero, the mean temperature for the year, and appears generally to be minus one degree Celsius, thirty point two degrees Fahrenheit, even in seventy degrees north latitude. In this latitude the temperature steadily falls as you get below the surface. Nowhere at a greater depth than one hundred fathoms is it above minus one degree Celsius and generally from minus one point five degrees, twenty nine point three zero degrees Fahrenheit, to minus one point seven degrees Celsius, twenty eight point nine four degrees Fahrenheit right to the bottom. Moreover the bottom temperature of the whole sea, north of the sixtieth degree of latitude, is under minus one degree Celsius. A strip along the Norwegian coast and between Norway and Spitsbergen alone accepted, but here the temperature is over minus one degree Celsius from eighty six fathoms, one hundred sixty meters downward, and one hundred thirty five fathoms, two hundred fifty meters, the temperature is already plus point five five degrees Celsius, thirty two point nine nine degrees Fahrenheit, and that too, be it remarked, north of the eightieth degree of latitude, and in a sea surrounding the pole of maximum cold. This warm water can hardly come from the Arctic sea itself, while the current issuing thence towards the south has a general temperature of about minus one point five degrees Celsius. It can hardly be anything other than the Gulf Stream that finds its way hither, and replaces the water which in its upper layers flows towards the north, forming the sources of the east Greenland polar current. All this seems to chime in with my previous assumptions, and supports the theory on which this expedition was planned. And when in addition to this one bears in mind that the wind seemed as anticipated to be as a rule southeasterly, as was more over the case at the international station at Sagastur by the Lennemouth, our prospects do not appear to be unfavorable. Frequently more over I thought I could detect unmistakable symptoms of a steadily flowing northwesterly current under the ice, and then of course my spirits rose, but at other times when the drift again bore southwards and that was often my doubts would return, and it seemed as if there was no prospect of getting through within any reasonable time. Truly such drifting in the ice is extremely trying to the mind, but there is one virtue it fosters, and that is patience. The whole expedition was in reality one long course of training in this useful virtue. Our progress as the spring advanced grew somewhat better than it had been during the winter, but on the whole it was always the same sort of crab-like locomotion. For each time we made a long stretch to the north, a longer period of reaction was sure to follow. It was, in the opinion of one of our number, who was somewhat of a politician, a constant struggle between the left and right, between progressionists and recessionists. After a period of left wind and a glorious drift northwards, as a matter of course the radical right took the helm and we remained lying in dead water or drifted backwards, thereby putting Amundsen into a very bad temper. It was a remarkable fact that during the whole time the Fram's bow turned towards the south, generally south one quarter west, and shifted but very little during the whole drift. As I say on May 14th, she went backwards towards her goal in the north with her nose ever turned to the south. It is as though she shrank from increasing her distance from the world, as though she were longing for southern shores, while some invisible power is drawing her on towards the unknown. Can it be an ill omen this backward advance towards the interior of the polar sea? I cannot think it. Even the crab ultimately reaches its goal. A statement of our latitude and longitude on different days will best indicate the general course of our drift. May 1st, 80 degrees 46 minutes north latitude. May 4th, 80 degrees 50 minutes. May 6th, 80 degrees 49 minutes. May 8th, 80 degrees 55 minutes north latitude. 129 degrees 58 minutes east longitude. May 12th, 80 degrees 52 minutes north latitude. May 15th, 129 degrees 20 minutes east longitude. May 21st, 81 degrees 20 minutes north latitude. 125 degrees 45 minutes east longitude. May 23rd, 81 degrees 26 minutes north latitude. May 27th, 81 degrees 31 minutes. June 2nd, 81 degrees 31 minutes north latitude. 121 degrees 47 minutes east longitude. June 13th, 81 degrees 46 minutes. June 18th, 81 degrees 52 minutes. Up to this we had made fairly satisfactory progress towards the north, but now came the reaction. June 24th, 81 degrees 42 minutes. July 1st, 81 degrees 33 minutes. July 10th, 81 degrees 20 minutes. July 14th, 81 degrees 32 minutes. July 18th, 81 degrees 26 minutes. July 31st, 81 degrees 2 minutes north latitude. 126 degrees 5 minutes 5 seconds east longitude. August 8th, 81 degrees 8 minutes. August 14th, 81 degrees 5 minutes north latitude. 127 degrees 38 minutes east longitude. August 26th, 81 degrees 1 minute. September 5th, 81 degrees 14 minutes north latitude. 123 degrees 36 minutes east longitude. After this we began once more to drift northwards but not very fast. As before we were constantly on the lookout for land and were inclined first from one thing then from another to think we saw signs of its proximity but they always turned out to be imaginary and the great depth of the sea moreover showed that at all events land could not be near. Later on, on August 7th, when I had found over 2,085 fathoms 3,850 meters depth, I say in my diary, I do not think we shall talk any more about the shallow polar sea where land may be expected anywhere. We may very possibly drift out into the Atlantic Ocean without having seen a single mountaintop, an eventful series of years to look forward to. The plan already alluded to of traveling over the ice with dogs and sledges occupied me a good deal and during my daily expeditions partly on snowshoes partly with dogs my attention was constantly given to the condition of the ice and our prospects of being able to make our way over it. During April it was especially well adapted for using dogs. The surface was good as the sun's power had made it smoother than the heavy drift snow earlier in the winter. Besides, the wind had covered the pressure ridges pretty evenly and there were not many crevasses or channels in the ice so that one could proceed for miles without much trouble from them. In May, however, a change set in. So early as May 8 the wind had broken up the ice a good deal and now there were lanes in all directions which proved a great obstacle when I went out driving with the dogs. The temperature, however, was still so low that the channels were quickly frozen over again and became passable but later on in the month the temperature rose so that ice was no longer so readily formed on the water and the channels became ever more and more numerous. On May 20 I went out on snowshoes in the forenoon. The ice has been very much broken up in various directions owing to the continual winds during the last week. The lanes are difficult to cross over as they are full of small pieces of ice that lie dispersed about and are partly covered with drift snow. This is very deceptive for one may seem to have firm ice under one at places where on sticking one's staff in it goes right down without any sign of ice. On many occasions I nearly got into trouble in crossing over snow like this on snowshoes. I would suddenly find that the snow was giving way under me and would manage with no little difficulty to get safely back on to firm ice. On June 5 the ice and the snow surface were about as before. I write, have just been out on a snowshoe excursion with spare drip in a southerly direction the first for a long while. The condition of the ice has altered but not for the better. The surface indeed is hard and good but the pressure ridges are very awkward and there are crevasses and hummocks in all directions. A sludge expedition would make poor enough progress on such ice as this. Hitherto however progress had always been possible but now the snow began to melt and placed almost insuperable difficulties in the way. On June 13 I write, the ice gets softer and softer every day and large pools of water are formed on the flows all around us. In short the surface is abominable. The snowshoes break through into the water everywhere. Truly one would not be able to get far in a day now should one be obliged to set off towards the south or west. It is as if every outlet were blocked and here we stick, we stick. Sometimes it strikes me as rather remarkable that none of our fellows have become alarmed even when we are bearing farther and farther northwards farther and farther into the unknown but there is no sign of fear in any one of them. All look gloomy when we are bearing south or too much to the west and all are beaming with joy when we are drifting to the northward the farther the better. Yet none of them can be blind to the fact that it is a matter of life and death if anything of what nearly everyone prophesied should now occur. Should the ship be crushed in this ice and go to the bottom like the genet without our being able to save sufficient supplies to continue our drift on the ice we should have to turn our course to the south and then there would be little doubt as to our fate. The genet people fared badly enough but their ship went down in 77 degrees north latitude while the nearest land to us is many times more than double the distance it was in their case to say nothing of the nearest inhabited land. We are now more than 70 miles from Cape Chelyuskin while from there to any inhabited region we are a long way farther but the from will not be crushed and nobody believes in the possibility of such an event. We are like the kayak rower who knows well enough that one faulty stroke of his paddle is enough to capsize him and send him into eternity but nonetheless he goes on his way serenely for he knows that he will not make a faulty stroke. This is absolutely the most comfortable way of undertaking a polar expedition what possible journey indeed could be more comfortable not even a railway journey for then you have the bother of changing carriages. Still a change now and then would be no bad thing. Later on in July the surface was even worse. The flows were everywhere covered with slush with water underneath and on the pressure ridges and between the hummocks where the snow drifts were deep one would often sink in up to the middle not even the snowshoes bearing one up in this soft snow. Later on in July matters improved the snow having gradually melted away so that there was a firmer surface of ice to go on. But large pools of water now formed on the ice flows already on the 8th and 9th of June such a pool had begun to appear around the ship so that she lay in a little lake of fresh water and we were obliged to make use of a bridge in order to reach a dry spot on the ice. Some of these fresh water pools were of respectable dimensions and depth. There was one of these on the starboard side of the ship so large that in the middle of July we could row and sail on it with the boats. This was a favorite evening amusement with some of us and the boat was fully officered with captain mate and second mate but had no common sailors. They thought it an excellent opportunity of practicing sailing with a square sail while the rest of our fellow standing on the icy shore found it still more diverting to bombard the navigators with snowballs and lumps of ice. It was in this same pool that we tried one day if one of our boats could carry all 13 of us at once. When the dog saw us all leave the ship to go to the pool they followed us in utter bewilderment as to what this unusual movement could mean but when we got into the boat they all of them set to work and howled in wild despair thinking probably that they would never see us again. Some of them swam after us while two cunning ones Pan and Kvick conceived the brilliant idea of galloping round the pool to the opposite side to meet us. A few days afterwards I was dismayed to find the pool dried up. A hole had been worn through the ice at the bottom and all the fresh water had drained out into the sea so that amusement came to an end. In the summer when we wanted to make an excursion over the ice in addition to such pools we met with lanes in the ice in all directions but as a rule could easily cross them by jumping from one loose flow to another or leaping right across at narrow places. These lanes never attained any great width and there was consequently no question of getting the from afloat in any of them and even could we have done so it would have been a very little avail as none of them was large enough to have taken her more than a few cable lengths further north. Sometimes there were indications in the sky that there must be large stretches of open water in our vicinity and we could now and then see from the crow's nest large spaces of clear water in the horizon but they could not have been large enough to be of much use when it came to a question of pushing forward with a ship. Sanguine folk on board however attached more importance to such open stretches. June 15th I wrote in my diary there are several lanes visible in different directions but none of them is wide or of any great extent. The mate however is always insisting that we shall certainly get open water before autumn and be able to creep along northwards while with a rest, sveredrip accepted, it seems to be a generally accepted belief. Where they are to get their open water from I do not know. For the rest this is the first icebound expedition that has not spent the summer spying after open water and sighing and longing for the ice to disperse. I only wish it may keep together and hurry up and drift northwards. Everything in this life depends on what one has made up one's mind to. One person sets forth to sail in open water, perhaps to the very pole, but gets stuck in the ice and laments. Another is prepared to get stuck in the ice but will not grumble even should he find open water. It is ever the safest plan to expect the least of life for then one often gets the most. The open spaces, the lanes and the rifts in the ice are of course produced, like the pressure and packing, by the shifting winds and the tidal currents that set the ice drifting first in one direction then in another. And they best prove perhaps how the surface of the polar sea must be considered as one continuous mass of ice flows in constant motion, now frozen together, now torn apart or crushed against each other. During the whole of our drift I paid great attention to this ice, not only with respect to its motion but to its formation and growth as well. In the introduction of this book I have pointed out that even should the ice pass year after year in the cold polar sea, it could not by mere freezing attain more than a certain thickness. From measurements that were constantly being made, it appeared that the ice which was formed during the autumn in October or November continued to increase in size during the whole of the winter and out into the spring, but more slowly the thicker it became. On April 10th it was about 2.31 meters, April 21st 2.41 meters, May 5th 2.45 meters, May 31st 2.52 meters, June 9th 2.58 meters. It was thus continually increasing in bulk, notwithstanding that the snow now melted quickly on the surface and large pools of fresh water were formed on the flows. On June 20th the thickness was the same, although the melting on the surface had now increased considerably. On July 4th the thickness was 2.57 meters. On July 10th I was amazed to find that the ice had increased to 2.76 meters, notwithstanding that it would now diminish several centimeters daily from surface melting. I bored in many places but found it everywhere the same. A thin somewhat loose ice mass lay under the old flow. I first thought it was a thin ice flow that had got pushed under, but subsequently discovered that it was actually a new formation of fresh water ice on the lower side of the old ice due to the layer of fresh water of about 9 feet 9 inches 3 meters in depth formed by the melting of the snow on the ice. Owing to its lightness this warm fresh water floated on the salt sea water which was at a temperature of about minus 1.5 degrees Celsius on its surface. Thus by contact with the colder sea water the fresh water became cooler and so a thick crust of ice was formed on the fresh water where it came in contact with the salt water lying underneath it. It was this ice crust then that augmented the thickness of the ice on its underside. Later on in the summer however the ice diminished somewhat owing to melting on the surface. On July 23rd the old ice was only 2.33 meters and with the newly formed layer 2.49 meters. On August 10th the thickness of the old ice had decreased to 1.94 meters and together the aggregate thickness to 3.17 meters. On August 22nd the old ice was 1.86 meters and the aggregate thickness 3.06 meters. On September 3rd the aggregate thickness was 2.02 meters and on September 30th 1.98 meters. On October 3rd it was the same the thickness of the old ice was then 1.75 meters. On October 12th the aggregate thickness was 2.08 meters while the old ice was 1.8 meters. On November 10th it was still about the same with only a slight tendency to increase. Further on in November and in December it increased quite slowly. On December 11th the aggregate thickness reached 2.11 meters. On January 3rd 1895 2.32 meters. January 10th 2.48 meters. February 6th 2.59 meters. Hence it will be seen that the ice does not attain any enormous thickness by direct freezing. The packing caused by pressure can however produce blocks and flows of a very different size. It often happens that the flows get shoved in under each other in several layers and are frozen together so as to appear like one originally continuous mass of ice. Thus the Fromm had got a good bed under her. Ewell and Peter had often disputed together during the winter as to the thickness of ice the Fromm had under her. Peter who had seen a good deal of the ice before maintained that it must at least be 20 feet thick while Ewell would not believe it and betted 20 kroner that it was not as thick as that. On April 19th this dispute again broke out and I say of it in my diary Ewell has undertaken to make a bore but unfortunately our bore reaches no farther than 16 feet down. Peter however has undertaken to cut away the four feet that are lacking. There has been a lot of talk about this wager during the whole winter but they could never agree about it. Peter says that Ewell should begin to bore while Ewell maintains that Peter ought to cut the four feet first. This evening it ended in Ewell in cautiously offering 10 kroner to anyone who would bore. Benson took him at his word and immediately set to work at it with Amundsen. He thought one did not always have the chance of earning 10 kroner so easily. Amundsen offered him a kroner an hour or else payment per foot and time payment was finally agreed to. They worked till late on into the night and when they had got down 12 feet the borers slipped a little way and water rose in the hole but this did not come too much and presently the borers struck on ice again. They went on for some time but now the borer would reach no further and Peter had to be called up to cut his four feet. He and Amundsen worked away at cutting till they were dripping with perspiration. Amundsen as usual was very eager and vowed he would not give in till he had got through it even if it were 30 feet thick. Meanwhile Benson had turned in but a message was sent to him to say that the hole was cut and that boring could now begin again. When it was only an inch or an inch and a half short of 20 feet the borers slipped through and the water spurred it up and filled the hole. They now sank a lead line down it and at 30 feet it again brought up against ice. Now they were obliged to give it up, a fine lump of ice we are lying on. Not taking into account a large loose ice flow that is lying packed up on the ice it is 16 inches above the water and adding to this the two feet which the from is raised up above the ice there is no small distance between her and the water. The temperature on the ice in summer is about thawing point but gradually as the winter cold comes on it of course falls rapidly on the surface when the cold slowly penetrates deeper and deeper down towards the lower surface where it naturally keeps at an even temperature with the underlying water. Observations of the temperature of the ice in its different layers were constantly taken in order to ascertain how quickly this cooling down process of the ice took place during the winter and also how the temperature rose again towards spring. The lowest temperature of the ice occurred in March and the beginning of April when at 1.2 meters it was about 3.2 degrees Fahrenheit minus 16 degrees Celsius and at 0.8 meter about 22 degrees Fahrenheit below zero minus 30 degrees Celsius. After the beginning of April it began to rise slowly. At these low temperatures the ice became very hard and brittle and was readily cracked or broken up by a blow or by packing. In the summer on the other hand when its temperature was near melting point the ice became tough and plastic and was not so readily broken up under packing. This difference between the condition of the ice in summer and winter was apparent also to the ear as the ice packing in winter was always accompanied by the frequently mentioned loud noises while the packing of the tough summer ice was almost noiseless so that the most violent convulsions might take place close to us without our noticing them. In the immediate vicinity of the from the ice remained perfectly at rest the whole year through and she was not at this time exposed to any great amount of pressure. She lay safe and secure on the ice flow to which she was firmly frozen and gradually as the surface of the ice thawed under the summer sun she rose up higher and higher. In the autumn she again began to sink a little either because the ice gave way under her weight or because it melted somewhat on the under surface so that it no longer had so much buoyancy as before. Meanwhile life on board went on in its usual way. Now that we had daylight there was of course more work of various descriptions on the ice than had been the case during the winter. I have already alluded more than once to our unsuccessful endeavours to reach the bottom by sounding. Unfortunately we were not prepared for such great depths and had not brought any deep sea sounding apparatus with us. We had therefore to do the best we could under the circumstances and that was to sacrifice one of the ship's steel cables in order to make a lead line. It was not difficult to find sufficient space on the ice for a rope walk and although a temperature of from 22 degrees Fahrenheit below zero minus 30 degrees Celsius to 40 degrees Fahrenheit below zero minus 40 degrees Celsius is not the pleasantest in which to manipulate such things as steel wire yet for all that the work went on well. The cable was unlaid into its separate strands and a fresh pliant lead line manufactured by twisting two of these strands together. In this way we made a line of between 4,000 and 5,000 meters, 2,150 to 2,700 fathoms long and could now at last reach the bottom. The depth proved to range between 3,300 and 3,900 meters, 1,800 to 2,100 fathoms. This was a remarkable discovery for as I have frequently mentioned the unknown polar basin has always been supposed to be shallow with numerous unknown lands and islands. I too had assumed it to be shallow when I sketched out my plan, C-Page 24, and had thought it was traversed by a deep channel which might possibly be a continuation of the deep channel in the North Atlantic, C-Page 28. From this assumption of a shallow polar sea it was concluded that the regions about the pole had formerly been covered with an extensive tract of land of which the existing islands are simply the remains. This extensive tract of polar land was furthermore assumed to have been the nursery of many of our animal and plant forms whence they had found their way to lower latitudes. These conjectures now appear to rest on a somewhat infirm basis. This great depth indicates that here at all events there has not been land in any very recent geological period and this depth is no doubt as old as the depth of the Atlantic Ocean of which it is almost certainly a part. Another task to which I attached great importance and to which I have frequently alluded was the observation of the temperature of the sea at different depths from the surface down to the bottom. These observations we took as often as time permitted and as already mentioned they gave some surprising results showing the existence of warmer water below the cold surface stratum. This is not the place to give the results of the different measurements but as they are all very similar I will instance one of them in order that an idea may be formed how the temperature is distributed. This series of temperatures of which an extract is given here was taken from the thirteenth to the seventeenth of August. Table of temperatures depths column temperature column depths and temperature follow surface zero fathoms plus 1.02 degree centigrade 33.83 Fahrenheit 2 meters 1 fathom minus 1.32 degree centigrade 29.62 Fahrenheit 20 meters 10 fathoms minus 1.33 degree centigrade 29.61 Fahrenheit 40 meters 21 fathoms minus 1.50 degree centigrade 29.3 Fahrenheit 60 meters 32 fathoms minus 1.50 degree centigrade 29.3 Fahrenheit 80 meters 43 fathoms minus 1.50 degree centigrade 29.3 Fahrenheit 100 meters 54 fathoms minus 1.4 degree centigrade 29.48 Fahrenheit 120 meters 65 fathoms minus 1.24 degree centigrade 29.77 Fahrenheit 140 meters 76 fathoms minus 0.97 degree centigrade 30.254 Fahrenheit 160 meters 87 fathoms minus 0.58 degree centigrade 30.96 Fahrenheit 180 meters 98 fathoms minus 0.31 degree centigrade 31.44 Fahrenheit 200 meters 10 fathoms minus 0.03 degree centigrade 31.95 Fahrenheit 220 meters 120 fathoms plus 0.19 degree centigrade 32.34 Fahrenheit 240 meters 131 fathoms plus 0.20 degree centigrade 32.36 Fahrenheit 260 meters 142 fathoms plus 0.34 degree centigrade 32.61 Fahrenheit 280 meters 153 fathoms plus 0.42 degree centigrade 32.76 Fahrenheit 300 meters 164 fathoms plus 0.34 degree centigrade 32.61 Fahrenheit 350 meters 191 fathoms plus 0.44 degree centigrade 32.79 Fahrenheit 400 meters 218 fathoms plus 0.35 degree centigrade 32.63 Fahrenheit 450 meters 246 fathoms plus 0.36 degree centigrade 32.66 Fahrenheit 500 meters 273 fathoms plus 0.34 degree centigrade 32.61 Fahrenheit 600 meters 328 fathoms plus 0.26 degree centigrade 32.47 Fahrenheit 700 meters 382 fathoms plus 0.14 degree centigrade 32.25 Fahrenheit 800 meters 437 fathoms plus 0.07 degree centigrade 32.126 Fahrenheit 900 meters 492 fathoms minus 0.04 degree centigrade 31.928 Fahrenheit 1000 meters 546 fathoms minus 0.10 degree centigrade 31.82 Fahrenheit 1200 meters 656 fathoms minus 0.28 degree centigrade 31.496 Fahrenheit 1400 meters 765 fathoms minus 0.34 degree centigrade 31.39 Fahrenheit 1600 meters 874 fathoms minus 0.46 degree centigrade 31.17 Fahrenheit 1800 meters 984 fathoms minus 0.60 degree centigrade 39.92 Fahrenheit 2000 meters 1093 fathoms minus 0.66 degree centigrade 30.81 Fahrenheit 2600 meters 1421 fathoms minus 0.74 degree centigrade 30.67 Fahrenheit 2900 meters 1585 fathoms minus 0.76 degree centigrade 30.63 Fahrenheit 3000 meters 1640 fathoms minus 0.73 degree centigrade 30.69 Fahrenheit 3400 meters 1859 fathoms minus 0.69 degree centigrade 30.76 Fahrenheit 3700 meters 2023 fathoms minus 0.65 degree centigrade 30.83 Fahrenheit 3800 meters 2077 fathoms minus 0.64 degree centigrade 30.85 Fahrenheit 325 meters 177 fathoms plus 0.49 degree centigrade 32.88 Fahrenheit plus 0.85 degree centigrade 33.53 Fahrenheit plus 0.76 degree centigrade 33.37 Fahrenheit plus 0.78 degree centigrade 33.40 Fahrenheit plus 0.62 degree centigrade 33.12 Fahrenheit these temperatures of the water are in many respects remarkable in the first place the temperature falls as will be seen from the surface downwards to a depth of 80 meters after which it rises to 280 meters falls again at 300 meters then rises again at 326 meters where it was plus 0.49 degrees then falls to rise again at 450 meters then falls steadily down to 2000 meters to rise once more slowly at the bottom similar risings and fallings were to be found in almost all the series of temperatures taken and the variations from one month to another were so small that at the respective depths they often merely amounted to the 200th part of a degree occasionally the temperature of the warm strat amounted even higher than mentioned here thus on october 17th at 300 meters it was plus 0.85 degrees at 350 meters plus 0.76 degrees at 400 meters plus 0.78 and at 500 meters plus 0.62 degrees after which it sank evenly until towards the bottom it again rose as before we had not expected to meet with much bird life in these desolate regions our surprise therefore was not small when on foot sunday may 13th a gull paid us a visit after that date we regularly saw birds of different kinds in our vicinity till at last it became a daily occurrence to which we did not pay any particular attention for the most part they were ice muse lauras ibernius kitty wakes resa tridectilla fulmers prosolaria glacialis and now and then a blue gull al glaucus a herring gull al argentatus or a black guillamo uriah grill once or twice we saw a squaw probably lustrous parasitica for instance on july 14th on july 21st we had a visit from a snowbunting on august 3rd a remarkable occurrence took place we were visited by the arctic rose gull rhodostethia rosea i wrote as follows about it in my diary today my longing has at last been satisfied i have shot rossus gull three specimens in one day this rare and mysterious inhabitant of the unknown north which is only occasionally seen and of which no one knows whence it cometh or whether it goeth which belongs exclusively to the world to which the imagination aspires is what from the first moment i saw these tracts i had always hoped to discover as my eyes roamed over the lonely plains of ice and now it came when i was least thinking of it i was out for a little walk on the ice by the ship and as i was sitting down by a hammock my eyes wandered northwards and lit on a bird hovering over the great pressure mound away to the northwest at first i took it to be a kitty wake but soon discovered it rather resembled the squaw by its swift flight sharp wings and pointed tail when i had got my gun there were two of them together flying round and round the ship i now got a closer view of them and discovered that they were too light colored to be squaws they were by no means shy but continued flying about close to the ship on going after them on the ice i soon shot one of them and was not a little surprised on picking it up to find it was a little bird about the size of a snipe the model back too reminded me also of that bird soon after this i shot the other later in the day there came another which was also shot on picking this one up i found it was not quite dead and it vomited up a couple of large shrimps which it must have caught in some channel or other all three were young birds about 12 inches in length with dark modeled gray plumage on the back and wings the breast and underside white with a scarcely perceptible tinge of orange red and round the neck a dark ring sprinkled with gray at a somewhat later age this modeled plumage disappears they then become blue on the back with a black ring round the neck while the breast assumes a delicate pink hue some few days afterwards august 6th and 8th some more of these birds were shot making eight specimens in all and the file 15