From Pole to Pole

by Garth James Cameron

  The lead was too small for both machines, so Dietrichson found another one and landed. As soon as he throttled the engines back the rear engine stopped but he was able to land safely. As soon as he was down he taxied to a small berg, and as far up it as he could, so that the N24, with its sprung rivets, would not sink.

  Conditions on the ice were fluid. Ellsworth later wrote:

  “The danger of being crushed became apparent . . . a north wind tended to open the leads. On the second day, though, it shifted to the south, and we could see the ice closing in. The whole field was alive with inert motion. Ice cakes in the lead would disappear, as if sucked under; others would emerge to the surface. The edges of the lead drew imperceptibly closer to each other. The implacable jaws were shutting on us, and we all felt that our plane would soon be caught in them.”

  Soon after landing Dietrichson and his crew saw a seal, the only sign of life that they would see during their stay on the ice. They would soon regret not having shot it for its meat.

  Chapter Seven

  A Merciful Deliverance from the Ice

  Arctic Ocean–North East Land–Kings Bay, May 22–June 18, 1925

  Dietrichson took the sun with his sextant and found that they were at about 87° 50’ north. Amundsen and N25 were close to N24 but out of sight. Amundsen also checked his position and calculated that they were at 87° 43’ north latitude and 10° 20’ west longitude. As he had suspected, they had encountered an easterly wind which had set them 53 nm west of track. They were 130 nm from the Pole and 528 nm from Kings Bay. Amundsen, Riiser-Larsen and Omdal tried to move N25 up on to the ice but the three men could not defeat the gluey ice-slush. Eventually they settled for moving all food and equipment on to the ice.

  It is difficult not to overestimate the peril the six men were in. They had no radio and there was no chance of an air search finding them. If long range aircraft were sent to Kings Bay to conduct a search they would have had no idea where to look as the Wals could be down anywhere in the 665 nm between Ny-Ålesund and the North Pole. And they could be anywhere within 100 nm east or west of the direct track. The ice was in constant motion with ice ridges being formed and leads opening up and closing. N24 was in sinking condition, because of the rivets popped just before the take-off, and would do so if the ice opened up beneath it, which was a distinct possibility. The aircraft was partly in the water of the lead and needed regular pumping, the leak getting worse as time went on. The rear engine was damaged and when they tried to move the N24 on to firm ice using the engines and man-power they found that the front engine would not start and the rear engine and three men did not have the power to move the aircraft. They had been awake for 24 hours and needed a rest and food. They made hot pemmican soup, coffee (with some alcohol in it), and lit their pipes. Even the sun could be an enemy in the Arctic, and Dietrichson suddenly went blind with snow blindness. They bandaged his eyes and put him in a sleeping bag in the aircraft.

  N24 would not fly again and, until the crews of the two flying boats were re-united, they only had three men and one engine to work the Wal away from sinking, or being pinched in the ice and then sinking. It was essential that the N24 be protected until they could transfer fuel and supplies from it to N25. For a time some of the men thought that they would be able to continue on to the Pole. All thoughts of reaching the Pole were abandoned as soon as the facts of their predicament became clear. The only possible plan was to fuel up N25, dump all equipment not essential for flight, find a lead long enough and wide enough for a take-off or find or create a runway on the ice, load all six men, and fly back to land.

  Standing on top of an ice hummock, Dietrichson was able to see the tips of a wing and a propeller blade of N25, and thought that it was about three-quarters of a mile away. Omdal worked on the damaged engine and Ellsworth and Dietrichson attempted to walk to N25 carrying the canvas boat. They failed after hours of laboring up and down the jagged ice.

  At midday on May 23, the N24’s crew noticed that the N25 was visible again having drifted closer and communication was established by semaphore with flags. It was a tedious and time consuming business as none of them was expert and two men were needed at each end. Sending was easy enough, but receiving required one man to observe the flags through binoculars while the second noted the message down, letter by letter. Ellsworth wrote that “It took us two or three hours to exchange the simplest message.” Amundsen requested that they walk to N25 carrying as much gear as possible. Several attempts were made to do this until Dietrichson and then Omdal sank through the ice slush and the strong current tried to drag them under the ice edge. They were saved because they had life belts on (a last minute purchase in Bodø) and had their skis unfastened and so could kick them off, and Ellsworth acted decisively. He crawled toward Dietrichson and managed hold out his skis close enough for Dietrichson to grasp the tips and be dragged up on to firm ice. Omdal was shouting “I’m gone, I’m gone” in English. Ellsworth crawled toward him, spreading his weight as much as possible to avoid falling through himself. Ellsworth got his skis out in front of him, close enough for Omdal to grab the tips and be hauled out, gasping for breath and spitting blood from his front teeth, five of which had been broken off as he struggled to cling to the ice as the current tried to drag him under. They were close to N25 and could be heard shouting, but were too far away to be any help. Ellsworth’s skill and strength saved not only the two men in the water, but all six of the expedition members. If Omdal and Dietrichson had drowned the remaining four men would have been unable to prepare a runway for take-off and would have died of starvation on the ice. Forty minutes later the six men were glad to be reunited at the N25. Ellsworth noted that Amundsen seemed to have aged years in the few days since he had last seen him.

  “Five days had brought a shocking change in Amundsen. Sleepless toil and anxiety had graven in his face lines that seemed to age him ten years. In all his many adventures in the Polar Regions, I doubt if he had ever been in such peril as this or under such a strain. Yet in his manner he was the same old self, cool, clearheaded, resourceful.”

  Amundsen was not an experienced aviator, and it may have been that he had not quite appreciated the risks of the flight until they were down on the ice. Whatever his state of mind he displayed his professionalism and leadership skills in the ordeal which was about to begin. The first task was to move N25 on to a thick, level piece of ice. It had been impossible for three men but was easy for six.

  They had only two choices: attempt to walk out to on the ice to Greenland or transfer fuel and food from N24 to N25 and attempt to fly home. At the time they reunited there was no lead in the ice and the ice surface was ragged and totally unsuitable for a take-off. It followed that they would have to cut a runway out of the ice surface and reposition the N25 from time to time to stop it from being pinched and crushed by the ever changing ice. An attempt to walk out was unattractive for a number of reasons. Firstly, they only had food for a month or so on full rations. The region seemed to be empty of game that could be killed for its meat. Secondly, the condition of the ice was most unfavorable for a surface journey as it was covered with ridges, areas of thin ice, and gaps where they would have to launch their boats and ferry men and supplies across. The journey of less than a mile, from N24 to N25, had taken several exhausting attempts, and had almost resulted in two men being swept under the ice and being drowned. On the plus side, Amundsen, Riiser-Larsen, Omdal, and Dietrichson were experienced skiers and Ellsworth was physically strong and an experienced out-doors man. They had collapsible boats and sledges and skis and other carefully selected survival equipment. In Riiser-Larsen they had an experience and skilled pilot. Most importantly, they had Amundsen’s experience and skill as a traveler in the Arctic and his leadership skills. Feucht was relatively young, but appears that he did not have any experience relevant to survival in this hostile environment. Feucht was uniquely challenged as he was the only one of the five who was neither an explorer nor a naval officer. He worke
d alongside the others and made a major contribution to the expedition’s escape from the ice. They decided that their best chance was to try to fly out although they revisited this decision as the days turned into weeks.

  Dornier Wal N24 on the ice of the Polar Ocean at 87° north 43° west. This Wal was abandoned and all six men flew back to Svalbard in N25 flown by Riiser-Larsen. The expedition book (My Polar Flight) implied that N24 was abandoned because of irreparable damage to the rear engine. In fact, one of the Dorniers had to be abandoned because the only way to make the return flight was by transferring fuel from one to the other.

  In addition to the human resources, the expedition had this material to work with:

  • N25. A serviceable flying boat capable of carrying all six men to safety

  • Petrol for about eight hours flight stowed on N25

  • Petrol for about eight hours flight stowed on N24

  • Navigational equipment to fix their take-off position accurately and their progress on the flight home approximately

  • Two collapsible sledges and boats

  • Rucksacks and skis for each man

  • Shotguns, rifles and pistols and ammunition for hunting and for protection from polar bears

  • Enough provisions of salt beef, chocolate, biscuits, dried milk, and malted milk to give each man 1,000 g each day (when on full rations) for a month

  • Cooking gear including a Primus stove and Meta stove

  • Miscellaneous equipment selected by Amundsen as being useful

  Although the expedition was, in many ways, well planned and equipped, there were some surprising omissions. Although a landing and preparation of a take-off runway were inevitable, they had no special tools with which to shift ice and snow. The last minute gift of a bayonet, by sail-maker Ronne to Amundsen, was crucial as this was the best tool that they had. Amundsen soon established a routine as they prepared for take-off. The first decision to make was to reduce the daily ration to make the most of their limited supplies of food. From time to time, as the days and the unsuccessful take-off attempts mounted up, they revisited the ration to be allocated to each day, and it was further reduced several times. By the end of the stay on the ice the ration provided only a small fraction of the 5,000 calories per day required by men carrying out hard physical labor in the cold of the Arctic. At the end of each working day the men were exhausted and steadily lost both weight and strength. In time the prospect of a walk over the ice to Greenland became more attractive. In summer the coast of Greenland was ice-bound on its west coast to Washington Land in 80° north and its east coast Kong Oscar Fjord in about 73° north, and so they could get there without having to cross any sizable bodies of water. If they were to attempt to walk out, the earlier they made the decision the better. The longer it was delayed the less food they would start with and the greater the risk of failure. Greenland was about 400 nm away. Calculations of their position, taken at regular intervals, showed that the currents were carrying the ice to the southeast.

  In the midst of the hard labor and peril they remembered to take still and motion pictures for the expedition documentary (should they live to send the exposed film to the organisers) and their scientific obligations. They had a device that exploded a charge and they measured the time taken for the echo to return with a stopwatch. On May 28, they used the device twice, and the time suggested that the sea was about 3,750 m deep. This was further evidence that there no landmasses to be discovered in the Arctic Ocean.

  They set to work creating a runway on the ice. Amundsen insisted on establishing a routine. Each day started with breakfast of a cup of chocolate and three oat cakes. At 13:00, they stopped work for a meal of pemmican soup and in the evening three biscuits. They soon ran out of tobacco and were forced to smoke Riiser-Larsen’s foul black chewing tobacco. When they were not working they lived aboard the N25, managing to squeeze all six men into the cramped compartments located from nose to tail. They even managed to dry their clothing by hanging it up inside the flying boat. All of this happened while the temperature aboard was well below zero.

  Preparing a runway wide and long enough was brutally hard work, but they knew their lives depended on it. For tools to shift and level the ice they used knives, axes, and an ice anchor. The work involved filling in cracks and ditches, levelling and compacting the surface, and cutting down icebergs so they would not damage the wings as they passed on the take-off. A petrol tank was removed from N24 and dragged across the ice. Every possible drop was required because, not only did they need enough for the return flight, they also used fuel every time they started the engines to shift the N25 or to make a take-off attempt.

  From the day work started down to the morning of June 14, they made five take-off attempts, all of them unsuccessful. On each occasion they started and warmed the engines and set the sun compass going. Riiser-Larsen was the most experienced pilot, so his place was in the cockpit with the throttles, instruments, control wheel, and rudder pedals in front of him and the runway before him. Amundsen, Dietrichson, Ellsworth, Omdal, and Feucht climbed into the central compartment where they could see nothing, but could hear the engines and the sounds of the ice against the hull and the slipstream made by the propellers and the air rushing by. Each time they were keyed up and then bitterly disappointed when Riiser-Larsen judged that they would not reach flying speed and cut the throttles in time to prevent an overrun and damage. If he had misjudged it they might have been killed but they would, at a minimum, have lost the machine and have had to attempt a surface journey to Greenland.

  June 8, 1925, brought fog, drizzle, and a reduction in the rations down to 300 g per man per day. They worked in damp snow and made a place to turn the machine through 180° to line up for the take-off. On June 9, the rations were down to 250 g and they were working on their fifth runway which was to be 500 m long by 12 m wide. They were using up the last reserves of physical energy and mental courage. On June 11, Omdal realised that it would be quicker and more efficient to stamp the snow down until it was firm enough to support the flying boat and they adopted this method. By June 14, Amundsen estimated that they had shifted 500 tons of ice since work began on May 24. That day they made their sixth and seventh unsuccessful attempts at taking off. A key problem was that the temperature, which had been at 10.4°F, rose to 0° and the resulting slush clung to the hull and would not permit acceleration to take-off speed. The next day the temperature had dropped and the runway was hard frozen, there was even a light head wind to shorten the distance required for take-off. In poor visibility they laid out black strips of film to mark the runway. They had dumped everything on board except:

  • Petrol and oil for eight hours

  • One canvas boat

  • One tent

  • Two shotguns

  • Six sleeping bags

  • Cooking gear and food for about two weeks

  • A minimum amount of clothing for each man

  • The exposed still and movie film

  They started and warmed the engines. The clockwork mechanism of the solar compass was started. Amundsen made a last inspection of the runway, and everyone except Riiser-Larsen climbed into the central compartment of the Wal.

  At 22:30 on June 15, 1925, Riiser-Larsen opened the throttles wide and the machine slid along the ice, up a slight slope, over several small cracks and accelerated with each engine delivering its full 2,000 rpm. After 30 or 40 seconds the vibrations ceased as the machine took to the air for the first time in almost a month. Dietrichson moved into the bow compartment to take up the navigator’s position, and Riiser-Larsen turned on to a heading which would take them home to Spitsbergen. The flight was a difficult one, but seemed an anti-climax to the exhausted crew who had lived with hard labour, short rations, and uncertainty for so long.

  For eight hours the N25 flew south at an airspeed of about 80 kt. During those eight hours the crew did not see one place big and smooth enough for a landing or a take-off. For two hours they flew throu
gh fog without being able to get under it or over it. They were not tempted to land and wait it out. Nothing but an engine failure would have brought them down. Dietrichson made drift observations as often as possible so Riiser-Larsen could adjust his heading to allow for any wind across their track. Each observation required a descent to about 100 ft. and was a risky business.

  After more than seven hours flight Feucht sighted land and it was identified as Spitsbergen. With safety in sight the famished explorers wolfed down the chocolate and biscuits they carried as survival rations. Riiser-Larsen had been experiencing some kind of problem with the controls (Amundsen wrote that the aileron control had stiffened up) and elected to land a mile or so off shore and they taxied the rest of the way through rough seas which drenched him and drove the others back into shelter in the central area of the fuselage. Ellsworth was violently ill from a combination of rich food, a shrunken stomach, and sea sickness. N25 taxied into a bay and they dropped anchor. It was about 08:00 on June 16, 1925, and they were in a bay on the northern coast of North East Land, the second largest of the islands that made up the Spitsbergen Archipelago, and about 135 nm northeast of Kings Bay.

  Map of the attempt to fly from Svalbard to the North Pole and return. On the outward flight both Dorniers drifted well to the west of track due to an easterly wind and problems obtaining a position line with sextants that could not measure a precise angle between sun and horizon in hazy conditions. On the return the Dornier N25 drifted to the east of track but made a landfall on the northern coast of North East Land in the Svalbard archipelago.

  They had survived because of Amundsen’s leadership, Riiser-Larsen’s skill and airmanship, Ellsworth’s quick thinking and courage when Dietrichson and Omdal had fallen through the ice, hard work by them all, and a good measure of good fortune. John Grierson wrote of Amundsen and his comrades: