In the Land of White Death

by Valerian Albanov

  On August 9 I was at the helm. A slight easterly wind barely filled the sails, and we were making roughly two miles an hour. It was very warm and I could hardly believe that only recently we had been besieged by thick ice and were contemplating trying to reach Novaya Zemlya on foot. We were drawing near the Murmansk coast, which we expected to appear out of the mist at any moment. I scrutinized the hazy horizon with the utmost attention, anxious to be the first to spot land or a vessel coming out to meet us. I had no time to become bored up on the bridge, for those who wanted to scan the horizon with the binoculars frequently came up to visit me. Each of us wanted to be the first to cry out, “Land Ho!”

  Suddenly a dark, undulating shape stood out in the fog. I hesitated for a moment, looked closer, and easily recognized the distant shoreline as being the Murmansk coast. I let out a great cheer!

  And yet we were all so tired of sailing at such a sluggish pace, after having dreamed of a steamship that would tow us as far as Arkhangel’sk, or at least lend us some coal. But no such vessel came out to greet us. We kept close watch on the horizon, ready for the moment when we could wave our flag. An hour after I had sighted land, we saw some small clouds of smoke rising in spirals on the horizon. Another hour went by before a long-awaited steamship came into view. But it was a Norwegian vessel on its way out of Arkhangel’sk with a heavy cargo of wood. They were heading in quite a different direction, and we doubted they would change course, since we were in fact under sail. Nonetheless, we hopefully hoisted our rather insignificant distress signal. The steamship passed by. We continued making for the coast, which slowly grew nearer, its shoreline becoming more and more distinct. However, we could not yet determine whether we were near the Kharkov light or at another point farther along the Murmansk coast. But when night fell we could see no beam of light. We changed to a more southeasterly heading, skirting the coast. At about ten at night, when we had just had supper, we saw the lights of another steamer. It was advancing rapidly, lit up with electric lights, so that it stood out clearly in the dark. It could only be one of the passenger vessels of the Arkhangel’sk-Murmansk line, plying between Arkhangel’sk and the local fishing ports, and the Norwegian port of Vardø. We could not have asked for more: If the captain were willing, they could tow us to any port along the coast.

  The Saint Foka hove to; we set off signal rockets and also burned flares on the deck. We were sure that the steamship could not possibly fail to see our signals, and would come to investigate. But not at all! Dumbfounded, we looked at each other in silence. It went on its way, paying not the slightest attention. We made a final attempt by lighting packets of oakum soaked in kerosene up on the fo’c’sle, which seemed to plunge our old tub into a sea of flames. But the ferry continued to ignore us and steamed steadily on. What else could we do? As a last resort, we shot off a few rounds from our whaling guns. A veritable bombardment, with our gunners firing away as if they were on a practice range!

  This last attempt certainly had an effect, but not the one we anticipated. The steamship, still not too far away, suddenly vanished. We stared in wide-eyed amazement: Had it really been a ship? Yes, but it had put out all its lights in the twinkling of an eye and disappeared into the night. This took us completely by surprise and for a moment we were speechless; then simultaneously all the men roundly abused the lily-livered captain who had not deemed our distress worthy of his attention. And a Russian steamship to boot! The conduct of the foreign vessel had not worried us unduly, for it was a long way off the coast, and we were not altogether certain that it had seen us. But the Russian vessel was another situation altogether: The cowardly fellow had purposely shirked his duty, and his conduct was not just strange, but ignominious.

  Our captain looked for all possible explanations and came up with the following: When Russian fishermen—pomori—are drunk, they light distress signals in their boats, something which often deceives other ships. When the rescue vessel comes alongside, the fishermen’s so-called plight turns out to be a false alarm, and no one in particular can be held responsible, as the crew are all completely drunk. Naturally, captains who have fallen for this prank learn to pay no attention to such signals near the coast. But this explanation did not satisfy us. A ship that sets off an entire series of distress signals, even along the coast, should simply not be ignored and left to the mercy of a capricious captain’s imagination. This is in complete contradiction to the long-established laws of the sea. Fortunately, we were not exactly in great danger. Since we could not obtain any fuel, we would just have to continue at our snail’s pace, whether we liked it or not, and that is what we did, all night long.

  At dawn we saw that we must have gone past the Kharkov lighthouse during the night. Because we were heading into wind, it did not seem wise to continue under sail as far as Arkhangel’sk, so we decided to make landfall at the first port where we could send a wire to request the help we had so far solicited in vain.

  Near the fishing village of Rynda we met a fishing boat, a “snail,” as they are called, with several men aboard: These were the first people any of us had seen since our departure two years previously. They had recognized the old Saint Foka from a long way off; they were to be our messengers of fate, and greeted us with very sad news from home. As if anticipating some misfortune, we asked: Tell us what is happening in the world! Has a war broken out in our absence? They looked at us with consternation, then cried out in unison: What? Haven’t you heard that a terrible war has broken out, a war that started in Serbia? Germans, Austrians, French, English, Serbs, almost everyone is now involved in this violent conflict.

  And what about Russia? we went on, overwhelmed by what we had just learned.

  Of course Russia is fighting as well, allied to France, they answered. So it is a European war, one of us cried out. That’s right, that’s what they call it, said one of the fishermen. They passed on other interesting items of news, and also told us that the steamship that had so shamefully let us down the day before had been the Lomonossov. And then we understood. They had taken our poor old boat for an enemy warship and had fled as quickly as possible! Apparently the Murmansk coast was liable to be attacked at any time of the day or night by German submarines. We were certainly in the danger zone.

  The fishermen kindly gave us some fresh milk and two pouches of tobacco that were very welcome to us all, although especially so to Sedov’s men, who had done without for so long. In exchange, Dr. Kushakov gave the fishermen a bottle of rum, totally ignorant of the enormous price it would fetch in those war-torn times.

  Dr. Kushakov went on board one of the fishing boats returning to Rynda, to send a wire announcing our arrival and requesting assistance. We could not maneuver into Rynda, as there was not enough wind. At four in the afternoon, two motorboats belonging to the Skobelev fishing company came alongside. Mr. Skobelev himself came to greet us and brought us a big pile of newspapers with the latest news of the war. Once the crews had become introduced, the two boats towed the Saint Foka into the port.

  Among the news items in the newspapers, we read that the Russian government had organized two expeditions to look for Brusilov and Sedov. One had been sent to the Kara Sea and the other to Franz Josef Land, to search for the Saint Foka. That evening we all gathered in the telegraph office at Rynda, while Dr. Kushakov sent a number of telegrams. He was richer than any of us, having several hundred rubles in his possession. Then Konrad arrived with a pound sterling he had previously found on board the Saint Anna when he was dismantling the cabins! The rest of us, including me, did not have a kopeck to our names. Dr. Kushakov gave us credit, though, and paid for all of our telegrams. Everyone asked his family to send money.

  On that same eventful day, Mr. Skobelev invited us to tea, and we learned that the S.S. Emperor Nicholas II, en route from Alexandrovsk to Arkhangel’sk, could take us on board. The next day, five men from the Saint Foka went on to Arkhangel’sk: apart from myself, there were Pavlov, Vize, Pinegin, and Konrad. The captain of the steamer could no
t have been more considerate. Not only did he allow us to travel free of charge, but he also provided our meals on credit during the entire passage and even gave us his own cabin, as the ship was fully booked.

  This, then, was my homecoming after an odyssey that had lasted for two years. Of all the companions who left St. Petersburg on July 28, 1912, on board the Saint Anna, only two of us had returned. Miraculously rescued after so many hardships, we finally disembarked in Arkhangel’sk on September 1, 1914.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Our primary debt of gratitude is to Christian de Marliave, the French polar expert who first called modern Western attention to Albanov’s remarkable work. De Marliave bent the ear of his longtime friend, Michel Guérin, who in 1998 published a deluxe illustrated edition of the French version of the book, titled Au pays de la mort blanche.

  It was through Guérin that one of us (Roberts) grew sufficiently intrigued to locate a rare library copy of the French edition and read it. The present edition, the first to appear in English, was translated from the French and then emended by corroboration with an unpublished literal translation from the original Russian that we were lucky enough to come across. We are grateful to our translators, Alison Anderson and Linda Dubosson, for their diligent and thorough renderings under intense deadline pressures. Christian de Marliave also served as an invaluable consultant during the process. To retired Canadian geography professor William Barr, who is probably the leading English-language expert on the history of Russian Arctic exploration, we owe an immense debt for making his verbatim translation from the Russian available, for creating the maps from which we have adapted ours, and for correcting such errors of detail as would otherwise have crept into our text.

  Lee Boudreaux at Random House had the canny publisher’s instinct to authorize this first English edition even before she had read the text, and she has scrupulously superintended our work on the book ever since. At Random House, Ann Godoff, David Ebershoff, and Brian McLendon instantly recognized Albanov’s text as a classic, paving the way for launching the book in the U.S. with the éclat it deserves. Dennis Ambrose at Random House supervised the editorial production of the book with an elegant regard for accuracy and style. Editors Stephen Byers, John Rasmus, and Mark Jannot at National Geographic Adventure likewise seized on Albanov’s achievement, producing a handsome first-serial excerpt to coincide with the book’s publication.

  John Ware, who acted as our agent on this project, was enthusiastic about Albanov from the beginning. Finally, to all the editors—they know who they are—who indulged our obsession with Albanov while it delayed and threatened to derail other work we had already committed to, we owe a vote of thanks for their forbearance.

  —Jon Krakauer and David Roberts

  INDEX

  Abruzzi, Duke of

  Albanov expedition

  Albanov’s comments about members

  of

  on Alexandra Land

  Cape Flora journey of

  daily activities in early days of

  departure from Saint Anna of

  diminishing supplies for

  and discussion about abandoning

  kayaks and sledges

  and double sleeping bag incident

  early days on

  first camp of

  fuel for

  leaves Franz Josef Archipelago

  maps for

  physical appearance of members of

  planned route for

  polynya crossings of

  preparations for

  quarrels among members of

  return to Saint Anna of some

  members of

  and reward for sighting land

  separation of members of

  and sightings of land

  southward drift of

  supplies from Saint Anna for

  thieves of

  “waiting camp” of

  and Worcester Glacier adventure

  See also specific person

  Albanov, Valerian Ivanovich

  aloneness of

  death of

  diary of

  doubts of

  dreams and hallucinations of

  French edition of book by

  gymnastic exercises of

  historical obscurity of

  illness of

  leadership abilities of

  as navigator

  papers concerning Saint Anna expedition

  with

  personal characteristics of

  return of

  saint’s day of

  as second in command of Saint

  Anna

  as writer

  See also specific topic

  Alexandra Land

  Alexandrovsk. See Murmansk/

  Murmansk coast

  Algae, pinkish-brown

  Andrée, Salomon

  Anisimov, return to Saint Anna of

  Anonymous tomb, on Cape Flora

  Arctic expeditions

  women on

  See also specific explorer

  Arhireyev, Alexander

  Arkhangel’sk

  Auks

  Austrian expedition (1871)

  Barents Sea

  Baths, desire for

  Bay of Teplitz

  Bayev, Prokhor

  Beer bottle, discovery of

  Bell Island

  currents around

  eiders near

  and journey to Cape Flora

  Konrad’s trip to

  rocks on

  and Saint Foka search for missing

  men

  sighting of

  Smith hut on

  Birds

  on Alexandra Land

  on Cape Flora

  on Cape Neale

  and sightings of land

  and southward drift of Albanov

  expedition

  See also type of bird

  Bread, Albanov’s thoughts about

  Brusilov, Boris Alexeyevich

  Brusilov, Georgiy

  and Albanov’s last day on board

  Saint Anna

  Albanov’s relationship with

  and Albanov’s request to build

  kayak

  death of

  and departure of Albanov expedition

  and difficulties at start of Saint

  Anna voyage

  documentation of orders for

  Albanov by

  historical obscurity of

  illness of

  library of

  log of

  personality of

  and preparations for Albanov expedition

  rationale for expedition of

  views about Albanov’s expedition

  of

  See also Saint Anna

  Cagni, Umberto

  Cambridge Bay

  Cape Fligely

  Cape Flora

  Abruzzi on

  Albanov and Konrad on

  Albanov’s companions fail to

  reach

  Albanov’s and Konrad’s preparations

  to leave

  Albanov’s and Konrad’s preparations

  to winter over on

  cabins and huts on

  hunting near

  Jackson camp at

  journey to

  and Konrad’s search for missing

  men

  letters in mailbox on

  Nansen and Johansen at

  and planned route of Albanov expedition

  provisions on

  rescue of Albanov and Konrad

  from

  Sedov expedition on

  and southward drift of Albanov

  expedition

  Ziegler expedition at

  Cape Grant

  Cape Harmsworth

  Cape Neale

  Cape Svyatoy

  “The Castle” (Franz Josef Archipelago)

  Cherry-Garrard, Apsley

  De Long, George Washington

  Death

&
nbsp; Albanov’s thoughts about

  insensitivity to

  See also specific person

  Denisov (harpooner)

  Dikson Island

  Distress signals

  Double sleeping bag incident

  Ducks

  on Alexandra Land

  and Cape Flora journey

  on Cape Grant

  and sightings of land

  See also eider ducks

  Eggs, bird/duck

  Eider ducks

  Eira Harbor

  Eira (Smith vessel)

  Emperor Nicholas II (steamer)

  Firearms. See rifles/guns

  Flowers

  Fortune-teller dream

  Foxes, white

  Fram (Nansen ship)

  Franz Josef Archipelago

  and Abruzzi expedition

  Albanov and Konrad leave

  Albanov’s knowledge about

  “The Castle” on

  as destination of Albanov expedition

  fractured ice near approach to

  hunting on

  maps of

  Nansen and Johansen on

  and navigations of Albanov

  and Sedov expedition

  Smith on

  and southward drift of Albanov

  expedition

  See also Alexandra Land; Bell

  Island; Cape Flora; Cape Grant;

  Cape Harmsworth; Cape Neale;

  Hooker Island; Northbrook Island;

  Prince George Land;

  Prince Rudolf Island

  Fulmars

  Gillis Land

  Glacier, Worcester

  Grays Bay

  Greenland, Nansen’s and Sverdrup’s

  trip across

  Gubanov, Vladimir

  and journey to Cape Flora

  Konrad’s search for

  as member of Albanov expedition

  as missing

  Saint Foka search for

  scurvy of

  Guérin, Michel

  Gulf Stream

  Gulls

  Gunther Bay

  Gymnastic exercises, Albanov’s daily

  Harmsworth. See Cape Harmsworth;

  Jackson, Frederick G.

  Harvard University, Albanov book

  at

  Health

  of men on Albanov expedition

  and polar bear liver

  of Saint Anna crew