Killigrew and the North-West Passage

by Jonathan Lunn

  ‘We can sail back to Beechey Island and wait for Sir Edward to arrive; if he isn’t there already. At least let’s go back, build a cairn, leave a message telling him which way we’re bound.’

  ‘I can’t afford to lose that much time,’ Pettifer said wearily. ‘We’ve been most fortunate to get so far so early in the season. Would you have me throw it all away just because we have a few civilians on board? They’re all sailors – excepting Frau Weiss, of course, and she’s spent enough time on board her husband’s whaler… You’re fretting over nothing, Killigrew. Why, if our luck holds we shall be able to sail through the passage before the winter sets in. Then Ziegler and his friends will have the privilege of being members of the first crew to sail through the North-West Passage!’

  ‘Assuming this channel does lead us to the North-West Passage, sir. And if our luck doesn’t hold?’

  ‘I see.’ Pettifer nodded gravely. ‘Now I understand. Rear Admiral Napier assured me you were a bold and audacious officer, Mr Killigrew, but now I see you’ve lost your nerve. You’re afraid to go on. That’s it, isn’t it? It’s not Herr Ziegler and his friends you’re worried about, it’s yourself.’

  ‘It’s not a question of courage, sir. It’s a question of common sense. With all due respect, might I remind you that Admiralty policy is for ships to sail in company in Arctic waters at all times, so that if one is nipped there is at least one other close by to take on board the shipwrecked men? It’s bad enough that we’ve been separated from the rest of the squadron for so long, but to compound an unavoidable error by pressing deeper into the Arctic…?’

  ‘I don’t need you to quote Admiralty policy to me, Mr Killigrew! Might I remind you of what it says in their lordships’ instructions to Sir Edward – and I quote: “We are sensible however that… an ardent desire to accomplish the object of your mission, added to a generous sympathy for your missing countrymen, may prevail in some degree to carry you beyond the limits of a cautious prudence.” It’s the twelfth of August now. The navigable season will be drawing to a close in another month or so. If we’re going to take full advantage of this opportunity, I suggest we do so at once, without wasting another week in sailing back to the Beechey Island to see if the rest of the squadron has turned up. Supposing the ice closes in while we’re gone?’

  ‘If the ice closes in, sir, I’d prefer it did so when we were out of the sound rather than in it.’

  Pettifer scowled. ‘We’ve come this far. We may be ignoring the letter of our instructions if we press on, but better that than ignoring their spirit by turning back now. We came to the Arctic to search for Franklin. It is my intention that we should do just that, while we still have the chance.’

  Killigrew stood stiffly to attention. ‘In that case, sir, it is my duty to object formally and to request that my objection be noted in the log.’

  Pettifer glared at Killigrew. Then he crossed to the door and opened it. ‘Private Phillips!’

  ‘Sah?’

  ‘Ask Mr Latimer if he would be so good as to join us, Phillips.’

  ‘Very good, sah.’ The marine marched off to find the clerk.

  ‘I’m disappointed in you, Killigrew,’ said Pettifer. ‘I had thought that you of all the men on board could understand the nobility of our quest; but now I see you are a small-minded, frightened little man, just like all the others.’

  ‘If it pleases you to think that, sir…’

  The clerk arrived. ‘You wanted to see me, sir?’

  ‘Ah, come in, Mr Latimer. We need you to be a witness. As you probably know by now, I have decided that we should take this opportunity to press forward into Peel Sound for as long as the ice permits. Mr Killigrew has objected to this course of action, and wishes his objection to be noted in the log.’ Pettifer sat down at the bureau and took out the log. ‘The date is Thursday the twelfth of August, the time…’ he checked his fob watch, ‘…sixteen minutes past one post meridiem.’ He laboriously entered Killigrew’s objection in the log: ‘“On finding Peel Sound free of all but loose floe ice, I announced my intention to press ahead in search of Franklin. Lieutenant Killigrew objected formally to this course of action.” There! Would you and Mr Latimer care to sign the entry?’

  ‘That won’t be necessary, sir.’

  ‘Good.’ Pettifer smiled. ‘You’ll live to rue that entry, Mr Killigrew. When the Venturer sails through the Bering Strait in a few weeks’ time, the first ship ever to sail through the North-West Passage—’

  ‘When that happens, sir, you shall have my full and unconditional apology.’

  ‘That will be all, gentlemen. Carry on.’

  Chapter 6

  The Great Unknown

  Killigrew and Latimer made their way to the wardroom. Normally the officers of a ship were divided into the senior wardroom officers, and the junior officers who messed in the gunroom; but with only five officers on board apart from Pettifer himself, it made sense for them to mess together in the wardroom, and use the gunroom for stores. That had been before they had picked up the survivors of the Carl Gustaf, however, and now the wardroom also acted as a saloon for Ziegler, Bähr and Ursula.

  The three of them were in there now, Ziegler with his back to the door as he addressed the other two in German. Killigrew did not understand a word of it, but from his tone it was obvious that he was relating his recent interview with Pettifer, and he was not happy about it. Ursula flickered her eyes to where Killigrew and Latimer had entered. Ziegler broke off and turned. Seeing them, he blushed.

  ‘And what about you, Herr Killigrew?’ he asked. ‘Do you approve of Kapitän Pettifer’s course of action?’

  ‘I am his lieutenant, Herr Ziegler. That is between the captain and myself.’

  ‘But just between you and me, he’s just objected formally,’ Latimer said with a wink, earning himself a scowl from Killigrew to which he remained oblivious. ‘Stood over the Old Man while he entered it in his log and everything; I was called in as a witness too. That’s no small thing. Killy’s really gone out on a limb for you fellows. I mean, if we do make it safely back to England, that entry will make Killy look an absolute fool. It will be the end of his career and no mistake!’

  ‘Yes, Latimer, thank you for reminding me.’ Killigrew poured himself a measure of Irish whiskey from one of the decanters. ‘Does the expression “Don’t wash your dirty linen in public” mean nothing to you?’

  Latimer looked hurt by the rebuke. ‘I was only trying to defend you. You don’t want these people thinking you’re insensitive to their plight, do you?’

  ‘Is there nothing more you can do, Herr Killigrew?’ asked Ziegler.

  ‘He’s my captain. I’m duty-bound to obey his orders.’

  ‘Even when they’re insane?’

  ‘Pressing on is hardly an act of insanity. Ill judged, perhaps, but there have been times when I’ve been guilty of acts far more ill judged than this one. The only test of a decision is its consequences, and we shan’t know those until it’s too late.’

  ‘Couldn’t we put them in a boat so they could sail back to Beechey Island?’ suggested Latimer. ‘It’s not as if we haven’t got boats to spare, and I’m sure Sørensen and Kracht could handle one—’

  ‘It would be kinder to put pistols to their heads and shoot them,’ snapped Killigrew. ‘It’s a hundred and seventy-five miles back to Beechey Island, and there’s no guarantee they’ll be safe when they get there. Suppose the rest of the squadron hasn’t turned up? They’ll be stranded on one of the most desolate spots on earth, without food or water.’ He shook his head. ‘They’ll be safer with us here on the Venturer.’

  ‘Will we?’ asked Ursula. ‘Be safe, I mean? What are our chances?’

  ‘Of finding the North-West Passage?’ Latimer did not know much about Arctic exploration, but knew plenty about giving the odds. ‘I’ll give you ten to one. Of finding Franklin and the others? A hundred to one. But for making it back to Europe? For that I’ll give us better than evens. The Venturer is on
e of the most advanced ships in the world. We have a triple-reinforced hull, iron sheathing on the bows, a retractable screw-propeller and a telescopic funnel, a Sylvester stove and pipes for keeping the ship warm—’

  ‘We do not want to be an inconvenience,’ said Ursula, adjusting the liquor decanters on the sideboard so they were aligned with geometric precision. ‘If it helps to put your mind at ease, this is not my first voyage to the Arctic. Why, apart from Sørensen and Kracht, and your two ice quartermasters, I suspect I have more polar experience than everyone else on board put together.’

  Killigrew smiled. ‘Bravely said, ma’am. But there’s no need to make apologies. If anyone should be apologising, it’s us, for dragging you into this.’

  ‘Deplorable as I find the awkward situation into which Frau Weiss has found herself thrust,’ said Bähr, ‘speaking for myself I’m quite looking forward to it. Not that it wouldn’t have been nice if Pettifer had had the courtesy to consult us first before dragging us off along with him, but… supposing he’s right, hey? We’ll be on board the first ship to sail through the North-West Passage. That’s nothing to be sniffed at. And I know Sørensen, Kracht and Fischbein are all excited by the prospect. Sorry, Ziegler, but you’re in the minority.’

  ‘Then you are as big a fool as he is,’ snapped Ziegler, jerking his head towards the rear bulkhead that separated the wardroom from Pettifer’s quarters. ‘May God have mercy on us all.’ He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

  ‘You’ll have to forgive Ziegler,’ said Bähr. ‘He gets terribly self-righteous sometimes. It’s what comes from having God for a personal friend. I’d better have a word with him, try to calm him down. If we are going to be stuck in the Arctic together for the next three years, I think it would be as well if we all learned at least to pretend to get along, even if we secretly all loathe one another.’ He followed Ziegler out.

  ‘May I ask you a question, Herr Latimer?’ asked Ursula.

  ‘By all means.’

  ‘If you rate your chances of finding Franklin or the North-West Passage so low, why did you volunteer for this expedition?’

  Latimer grinned. ‘Gaming debts. Seems as though every bookmaker in London was after me. I decided that the Arctic was the one place I could be safe from the attentions of their bullies. Well, I’ve got paperwork to do. If you’ll excuse me?’ He retreated from the wardroom, leaving Killigrew alone with Ursula.

  ‘And what about you, Herr Killigrew? From what are you running away?’

  ‘The same as Latimer,’ he replied jocularly. ‘Bad debts.’

  ‘You are a gaming man?’

  He shook his head. ‘No, I just happen to have expensive tastes. The old, old story: I’m a victim of tradesmen who actively encouraged me to accept the lines of credit they extended me, before selling my debts to money brokers.’

  ‘Do you really think that some men from Franklin’s expedition might still be alive? After so much time?’

  Killigrew met her gaze levelly. ‘If they’re still alive, then they need help. If they’re dead, then the wives and families of the men on those ships deserve to know what happened to their loves ones.’

  ‘But why did you really volunteer for this expedition? You can talk to me about duty, if you like, but you need not expect me to believe it. From listening to your fellow officers talk, I get the impression there would have been plenty of other officers foolish enough to take your place had you declined.’

  ‘When I was a child, most of my friends wanted to be like Nelson when they grew up, but I always wanted to emulate Cook. To explore strange new lands, to seek out new peoples and new civilisations. To boldly go where no white man has gone before.’

  ‘There are not many places you can say that about nowadays.’

  ‘That’s why I came to the Arctic. Most of my service has been spent in the Tropics: the Guinea Coast, the East Indies, the South Seas… but I always wanted to be an explorer. If I were an army officer, I suppose I’d want to explore inland in Africa or South America. But I’m a sailor, and when it comes to mapping coasts there’s really only one great discovery left to be made: the North-West Passage.’ He grinned. ‘Those blank patches on the charts – they’re like an itch I can’t scratch.’

  ‘That is not a very good reason for risking your life. And if you get frozen in, like Franklin and his men? If you die of cold and starvation? Will it have been worth it?’

  ‘When Franklin was putting his expedition together seven years ago, I applied to sail on board HMS Erebus as a mate. I was passed over in favour of a friend of mine, Charles DesVoeux. We’d served together in the China War. If it hadn’t been for Charlie I wouldn’t be standing here right now. I think I owe it to him to return the favour.’

  ‘If it had not been for your friend Charlie, you might have sailed with Franklin in his place. Did you ever think about that?’

  ‘Since it became apparent that some disaster had befallen Franklin’s expedition… every day of my life.’

  * * *

  ‘Of course, you realise that Pettifer’s going to get us all killed, don’t you?’ Yelverton asked in a low, almost conversational tone when Killigrew brought him the latest rough charts they had made of the west coast of North Somerset Land in the chart-room.

  ‘I really don’t see what you’re worried about. It’s an open ice year. The only ice in sight is the shore ice, and that doesn’t present any danger to us.’

  Yelverton slammed down his pencil. ‘It was an open ice year in 1846, when the Erebus and Terror sailed down this sound! Don’t you understand? Open ice years are the most dangerous of all! The Arctic lures you in, like a… like a whore in Vauxhall Gardens, tempting you with supposedly untasted delights, when all along she’s planning for her bully to bash you on the back of the head with his neddy so she can relieve you of your pocket book!’

  ‘Sounds like the voice of experience speaking,’ the lieutenant said with a grin.

  Yelverton scowled. ‘If we get bashed, Killigrew, we won’t recover and go on our way with an empty pocket book and an aching but wiser head. We’ll be stranded here until the midnight sun bleaches our bones as white as the snow they lie in.’

  ‘We’re charting undiscovered coastline here, Yelverton. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do. Doesn’t that excite you? To think that in a few years’ time, you’ll be able to open any atlas anywhere in the world, look at the map of the Arctic and think: I was one of the men who discovered the coastline. Now, that’s what I call making your mark on the world.’

  ‘Charting! This isn’t charting, Killigrew, and you know it. We should stop to take soundings, measure the headlands by triangulation for the benefit of future navigators. This…’ Yelverton gestured at the unfinished drawings before him, ‘…this isn’t a chart, Killigrew. It’s an outline. It’s no good to anyone. But Pettifer’s in too much of a hurry to be the one to discover the North-West Passage to worry about what lies along the route.’

  ‘There’s also Franklin and his men to consider,’ Killigrew reminded him. ‘If they are still alive, then every day’s delay before we can bring them succour increases the chances they’ll all be dead by the time we reach them.’

  ‘Listen to yourself, Killigrew! You know as well as I do they’re all dead by now. You can believe your own lies, if it helps you come to terms with this madness we’re committing, but don’t expect me to believe them.’

  Before Killigrew had a chance to wonder if there was any truth in Yelverton’s accusation, a shout came from the deck above: ‘Sail ho!’

  Killigrew and Yelverton exchanged glances. A moment later they bumped into one another as they raced for the door, the master’s curiosity getting the better of his manners. Killigrew could hardly blame him: it was not every day one encountered another ship in uncharted waters.

  The two of them found Cavan and Ågård on the quarterdeck, gazing off the port quarter. The coast was visible on the other side of a mile of shore ice: a low, undulating, barre
n landscape. ‘It’s not another damned kayak, is it?’ asked Killigrew.

  Ågård shook his head and handed him the telescope. ‘See for yourself, sir.’

  ‘Where am I supposed to be looking?’

  ‘See those two valleys that converge on the coast? The one on the left.’

  Killigrew found the ship, about five miles away, the snow heaped in drifts around its hull where it was frozen into the sea. There was no mistaking it, though: the three masts rose up from the deck, truncated, the tops taken down.

  ‘It looks as if she’s overwintered,’ said Ågård. ‘She must’ve cut her way into the inlet when the ice closed in, and hoped that the ice would release her in spring.’

  ‘How many winters ago was that, I wonder,’ mused Killigrew. ‘There’s no sign of life.’

  Pettifer came on deck and Killigrew pointed the ship out to him. ‘Is it the Erebus or the Terror?’ the captain asked.

  ‘Could be either, sir.’

  ‘Or neither,’ Yelverton pointed out. ‘If she’s the Erebus, where’s the Terror? If the Terror, where’s the Erebus?’

  ‘Suppose one of them was nipped and sank, sir?’ said Ågård. ‘The other might have stopped here to overwinter with the crews of both ships on board.’

  ‘We must investigate,’ said Pettifer. ‘Take her in closer, Mr Cavan. We’ll anchor to the shore and send a party to the ship. You’d better take seven men, Mr Killigrew.’

  ‘Aye, aye, sir. I’d like to take Ågård, Qualtrough, Molineaux, Bombardier Osborne, Endicott, McLellan and Terregannoeuck. And Mr Strachan also, if I may, sir. If there is anyone left alive on board that ship, they’ve been there a long time: a year at least, possibly much longer. They’ll need medical attention.’

  ‘Good idea. Carry on, Killigrew.’ Pettifer descended the after hatch.

  ‘Where is Terregannoeuck?’ Killigrew asked Ågård.

  The Swede pointed directly up, as if to say that the Inuk had gone to heaven, but when Killigrew raised his eyes skywards he saw Terregannoeuck sitting cross-legged at the maintop. ‘What the devil’s he doing up there?’