Free Fatal North by Bruce Henderson

he thought instrumental in convincing Hall to take the ship north.
    They were now in the area where Morton and Hans had made their discovery.
    Where is the open sea? Tyson thought as he searched the horizon from aloft.
    All hands not working below were up on deck looking hardfor the same thing: the open Polar Sea, as reported by Morton and Hans, who were also on deck. So was Dr. Emil Bessels, who had announced that his wind and temperature readings in connection with the fog showed an indication of open sea farther north. Moist, foggy air from the north, the scientist contended, would not have passed over ice.
    But it soon became sadly clear to everyone that there was no open sea, but only a stretch of water forty-five miles across. They were not deceived because they had sailed right across it. The surrounding land was plainly seen because it was quite high in elevation.
    Aboard
Polaris
this day, everyone realized Morton and Hans had made a mistake. No one was surprised that their eyes had played tricks on them if it had been at all foggy when they were here. In reduced visibility they would not have been able to see across to the other side.
    It was not the gateway to the promised land but a landlocked
bay.
    Hall, recovering from his disappointment, named it Polaris Bay.
    Finding a channel not far from the mouth of the bay, they sailed on. The channel, some seventeen miles wide, was obstructed by heavy ice. Tyson thought they would get through, but from the long faces he saw on deck, it was apparent that some of the men would rather they not try.
    Hall named Robeson Channel after the Secretary of the Navy. A good name, all agreed, for without Secretary Robeson’s support and goodwill, they wouldn’t be in these waters never before parted by the keel of any ship.
    All night, surrounded by ice fields and fog, they slowly worked forward. The full force of the current was now felt, and the ship labored hard to make progress. To increase the difficulties of navigation, the fog again settled and shut out everything from view.
    They fastened
Polaris
to an ice floe and waited all the next day for an opening in the weather and the ice. A second cylindercontaining a dated dispatch giving their position was thrown overboard.
    The crew grew perceptibly nervous, not unlike what ancient mariners must have felt as they ventured into unknown seas. “I believe,” Tyson wrote in his journal, “some of them think we are going over the edge of the world.”
    Finally, at 7:30 P.M ., the fog lifted.
Polaris
headed through broken ice toward the eastern coast, where they spotted a possible harbor. Anchoring out, Tyson joined Hall in a small boat and went ashore to see if it would be serviceable. Although suitable for a comfortable winter’s home, the harbor proved too shallow for the ship.
    Upon their return, with the ice pressing heavily upon the hull, Hall ordered a quantity of provisions to be taken out and put on the ice—in case something happened and they were forced to abandon ship. They waited out the night.
    Under way again early the next morning, after bringing the supplies back aboard, they soon found the ice so compacted that it was impossible to force the vessel through. As far as the eye could see was impenetrable ice from one horizon to the other. At 6:00 A.M . on August 30, 1871,
Polaris
attained her highest northern latitude: 82 degrees, 16 minutes.
    Although Charles Francis Hall did not know it, no land lay between him and his goal. The only obstacles were the constantly shifting pack, with its immense pressure ridges and hummocks, sculpted mounds formed by the aggregation of ice piled up by repeated pressure, and a solid sea of ice extending four hundred and seventy miles—all the way to the Pole.

II
    Thank God Harbor

5
    Providence Berg
    U nable to maintain its northernmost position against a driving current and the pressure of the southward-drifting ice pack,
Polaris
steamed a few miles south