The South Pole by Frank McLynn

Author:Frank McLynn [McLynn, Frank]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sharpe Books
Published: 2019-12-09T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE: THE BAY OF WHALES

Continuation of the journal of Helmer Hannsen

In the first minutes after anchoring Amundsen was in a state of what can only be called manic euphoria, and he held forth (ranted, some of the men said) about our triumph. He pointed theatrically to the ice barrier, doing the kind of exaggerated “business” with his hands that actors like to do on the stage.

“There lies the barrier,” he said, “exactly as it did thousands of years ago. Look at its icy beauty there in the midnight sun! It seems as though the princess is still sleeping in her shiny castle. I pray God we may be the ones to awaken her!”

“Make up your mind, sir, whether you’re talking Christianity or pagan folk tales,” Kutchin muttered sardonically under his breath.

But soon we turned to more mundane matters. We were moored to the edge of the bay on the south-east corner of the Bay of Whales, in a protected inlet. On the western side of the inlet was the high point of the ice barrier which we dubbed “Cape Man’s head”. On the eastern side was a narrow isthmus where the hut for overwintering was to be built; we already had a name for the hut – Framheim. We constructed a track along the four miles from the ship to Framheim and marked it with flags – actually blue pennants on sticks – placed every fifteen paces. On 15 January 1911 we were ready to launch a sledge loaded with nearly 700 pounds of provisions for transport to the hut. Amundsen had the honour of driving the sledge, to be pulled by eight dogs. But humiliation quickly followed. The dogs staged what I can only call a campaign of civil disobedience. After limping a few yards they sat down and refused to go on. It became apparent that, having done nothing except eat and fight for six months, they were no longer willing to work, or had perhaps even forgotten how. We got out the whips to make them understand. Amundsen, the animal lover, was reluctant to mete out this harsh punishment but, as I said to him: “It’s either us or them, boss.” Yet even the thrashing did not yield immediate results, for the dogs turned on each other and began to tear and rend at one another. The snarling, barking and imprecations of the men was not improved by the laughter from Fram: the farce overbore the men’s fear of a reproof from Amundsen. Somehow or other we finally coaxed, cajoled, lashed or otherwise forced the dogs to the end of the track. But it proved a temporary respite. Each team of dogs that was yoked up in harness misbehaved atrociously. Finally, Amundsen had a brainwave and announced that the basic problem lay with the harnessing.

“I’ve got it wrong,” he announced. “I remembered Alaska but I forgot Greenland.”

By now we were used to Amundsen’s elliptical references, but this one stumped us. Patiently he explained. Because of his

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