PRESIDENT COOLIDGE in his letter to Secretary Denby of November 20, 1923, authorizing a naval expedition to the north polar regions said: “As it fell to the Navy to achieve the final goal, through the efforts of Admiral Peary, it is eminently fitting that the Navy should continue the work. . .”
To the casual reader this seems a contradictory statement. The North Pole, “the final goal,” has been discovered. What, then, does the President mean? What work is there for the Navy to continue?
Turn to the arctic map. The North Pole marks its center. Close aboard lie Greenland and the contiguous archipelago on one side; Siberia and its outlying islands on the other. Just as close above lie Franz Joseph Land and Spitzbergen. The fourth sector is blank.
This blank is something over 1,000,000 square miles in area. It is the greatest cartographic vacuum in the world. It is the last large geographical mystery on the surface of the globe.
To fill this blank, to relieve this vacuum, to clear up this mystery, is what the President chiefly meant when he said “the Navy should continue the work.”
A supplementary task springs from the relative geographical location of Europe and Asia with regard to the North Pole. A library globe will show that it is about twice as far from London to Tokyo by the regular trade route as it is across the Pole: 11,000 to 5,500 miles in approximate figures. Whence transpolar traffic of the future.
So we may express the two-fold mission of an air expedition to the polar regions as:
First, explore the vast unknown area north of Alaska. Second, establish the practicability and the aerology of- a trans-polar air route.
The focus of our exploration will be what has been called "the Pole of Inaccessibility.” This point is the center of the unexplored area, roughly 82°N. and 165°W. Spitzbergen, Etah, (Greenland) and Point Barrow are all within flying distance of it.
Map Showing Unexplored Area, and “Pole of Inaccessibility”
Spitzbergen lies nearest the North Pole. A plane could fly from a base there to the Pole and back without great difficulty. But nothing in particular would be gained by such a flight. Peary’s work is indisputable. We know that land does not lie at the Pole. Hence a flight from Spitzbergen, such as Amundsen and his planes will make, must be a one-way venture to cover any of the vast space above Alaska. And since this distance is about 1,700 miles, which must be made in a single hop, the project boils down to a conspicuously daring feat, quite distinct from the work the President had in mind.
Etah is the second possibility. It is 700 miles from the North Pole and about 900 miles from the Pole of Inaccessibility. But Etah is not available as a base until about August 1. Its name means “the Blow-hole of the World,” and is derived from the incessant winds that roll down upon it from the ice-cap looming 5,000 feet into the sky just east. Its habitations consist of three stone huts which may or may not be occupied by natives.
Building Igloo on Polar Sea: Smooth Surfaces When Snow- Covered Are Very Deceiving |
It has no flat plains for landing fields. Ice and game conditions are not dependable. Etah as an air-base would be a frost figuratively as well as literally.
Point Barrow is about 700 miles from the Pole of Inaccessibility; closer than either of the others. It is on the threshold of the unknown. It has just the terrain for aviation work. It has available both food and native labor. It is on American soil. It is an ideal base except for two things: on account of ice Barrow cannot be reached until August; and the open season lasts but a few weeks.
Assume for the sake of keeping concrete images in mind, that in order to explore the unknown region north of Alaska and to establish the practicability of a trans-polar flight we send a 10,000-ton station ship to an Alaskan port, say Nome, some time in June. That is the earliest month in which the harbors near Bering Strait break out. Attached to this ship are a group of planes equipped for landing on ice and on water. She also carries material for a mooring mast in case a dirigible is to be used.
This particular assumption is made because Spitzbergen is too far on the other side of the Pole of Inaccessibility to permit satisfactory exploration and Etah has wind and ice conditions too uncertain to risk our aircraft in. Barrow with its late ice and early closing is out of the question, unless we establish a base there the first year with the idea of using it the next.
It should be recalled that some heavier-than-air flying has already been done in high latitudes. So far as cold is concerned no especial trouble may be anticipated. During summer months the average temperature over the polar basin remains within five degrees of the freezing point. There is open water in the “leads” or tide-opened cracks and in pools that form on the ice. There is level landing space on the floe surfaces. With specially constructed pontoons for either ice or water, any plane could fly any place over the Polar Sea between May 1 and September 1.
So far as meteorological conditions go, the same applies to use of a dirigible in polar regions. She might have to ride out an occasional summer gale or a sixty-mile southwest wind. Strong northerly breezes might buffet her along the upper side of the Barrens. But actual flying would ordinarily be done under better conditions than during the same months in lower latitudes.
Lest there may be doubters of the last statement, attention is invited to the three essential features of easy lighter-than-air work: steady wind, equable temperature, and daylight. North of the arctic circle there are no circular storms, hence naught but steady winds. Diurnal variation of temperature is miraculously minute. And daylight persists twenty-four hours out of twenty-four.
Now what could we do from our 1o,ooo-ton ship and the shore base she would establish?
A table of distances is most illuminating:
Nome to North Pole............................1,560 miles
Nome to Pt. Barrow ............................526 miles
Pt. Barrow to North Pole............................1,117 miles
Nome to Pole of Inaccessibility ............................1,100 miles
Speaking broadly, then, the arctic is not only perfectly accessible to any form of airship, but is in many respects better suited to flying than any other part of the earth’s surface.
Not only are these distances great (they must all be doubled for a flight there and back); but they are over the wildest and most lifeless portion of the earth’s surface.
A simple flight from the northern base to the far edge of the unexplored region and back is over 3,000 miles. But a cruising radius is figured for still air. So a head wind of twenty miles an hour on the northward lap would at once increase the relative distance to over 4,000 miles.
Hence, thoroughly to explore our objective we must make at least ten or twelve flights from the base and back, each covering a definite sector of the blank portion of the map.
If land be sighted we should probably find it safer to return to the base and fit out a special flight for taking possession of the new territory. This flight must have arrangements for relief included because of the danger, involved in coming down on the ice or on a snow-obscured terrain.
Some idea of the problem of using heavier-than-air machines over the Polar Sea can be gathered from the radio report we had from Amundsen’s ship, the Maud, (drifting in the pack) last fall. It said in part: “Besides there is hardly a single natural landing place in the district. . . . Seen from the air it is level enough, but in fact there is hardly one flat surface of 300 feet in length. Therefore forced landings are dangerous.”
Which brings us again to the handicap of distance. Our northern base is 1,500 miles from Seattle, the nearest source of equipment. We must, therefore, be self-supporting. The season is too short to admit sending home for spare parts. The plane that is smashed on the ice is out of the race for the year.
Looking at such an accident from the aviator’s viewpoint, suppose that while flying over the Polar Sea he be blown off his course. It is conceivable that search for him may have to be made within a circle of 500-mile radius. That is twice the limiting dimension used for the lost Army fliers in Arizona last year. And Arizona was full of landmarks. In contrast the Polar Sea from the air is a pimpled desert of blue-white ice.
Or taking the question of fuel: While gales are a rarity in summer north of the arctic circle, they do occur. And when they come they last. Circular storms as we know them do not reach high latitudes. Areas of low pressure are elliptical. “Troughs” they are termed. An air vessel caught in such a blow lasting a week or ten days will not suffer from wind so much as she will running short of fuel. If she be a dirigible she will become a balloon. If a plane she will land and likely become a pile of kindling.
Of course this is the black side of the game. But it was failure to see clearly the black side that made of the Greely and De Long expeditions such debacles. To find and rescue a summer flying party marooned somewhere on the ice-pack 500 miles from the nearest land would tax our ingenuity to the limit.
We could send planes out to search. We might find the lost men quickly thus. But we might also by arduous flying cover a great area and still fail. Moreover, some of the searchers might get lost in the polar haystack and be no better off than their brothers.
If we sent out a dirigible we should succeed less quickly than with a plane. We should risk more in property and lives. Having but one, we should have to cover not less than 3,000 to 10,000 miles in our search. And we should have to take considerable chances on the weather.
We could let the men save themselves. That is to say, we could train the personnel of our exploring units to shift for themselves on the polar pack, as others have done, and make the best of their way back to land. Stefansson proved the feasibility of such a course; provided, to be sure, that a man knows the game and is skillful in its execution. By "game” we mean seals and caribou as well as the delightful (sometimes) pastime of living off the country.
None of these plans is likely to arouse any great enthusiasm. None has the definite tangibility of a life-preserver, which, when the swimmer is sinking, can be thrown to his aid with assurance that it will keep him afloat until better help comes.
Those who know the arctic will agree that this rescue business is the hardest part of all northern work. When weather is clear and crisp and the ice is right and the sun swings unsetting there is no place in the world where man may travel so merrily. But when parties get separated from one another and summer drift hides the sun there is likewise no place in the world where well-laid plans go more easily awry.
Peary’s Cairn at Cape Thomas Hubbard from which Peary Saw New Land in the Unexplored Area of the Polar Sea
The natural temptation is to slur over this side of preparation. But what a stew the country was in when Greely’s little party were lost and starving! Congress (cursing) appropriated practically unlimited funds to save them. And when the story of the tragedy became known anathema was heaped unstinted on the heads of those who had made such horrors possible.
There is no sense in rattling the bones of the dead. But while the writer was in North Greenland, four Eskimos and himself cached over 4,000 pounds of walrus meat within forty-eight hours on the very spot, and almost on the very date, where Greely’s men lay starving. Indelibly was impressed upon his mind how fatal a slight omission can be in arctic work.
It is neither safe nor appropriate here to venture a scheme for succoring members of an arctic air expedition that may get themselves into difficulties. But it may interest the reader to gain some idea of what such a scheme would be like.
Each plane or dirigible could be supplied with special bombs. The sector or zone in which the enforced landing might occur would determine which of three points, say, would be selected for rendezvous. When an aircraft failed to return time would be allowed for her crew to make their way toward the rendezvous. After a prearranged interval the smoke bombs would be set off daily by them at 6 a. m., noon, and 6 p. m. In the event of failure to locate the lost party in this way, stores might have been cached at Wrangell Island to the west, or Banks Land to the east.
Some such scheme would have to be devised. But without proper sledging equipment and with the vast spaces involved the problem certainly would be a knotty one.
It should be noted in passing that even were our naval expedition delayed this question of rescue may become a timely theme when Amundsen makes his flight from Spitzbergen to Barrow next summer.
Also to dispel the popular idea of fearful conditions to be met in the north some mention should be made of the truth. It is wholly fanciful to suppose that inhuman temperatures are encountered north of the arctic circle; or that darkness of the polar night puts an end to all work; or that scurvy is an unavoidable corollary of' protracted northern exploration.
Cold is just as severe in Michigan or Winnipeg as it is at the Pole, though less persistent. Scurvy is just as prevalent in New York or Chicago as north of the arctic circle, though not so well advertised. Both evils can be anticipated and guarded against by proper clothing and diet.
To avoid these hazards by swift achievement and return, to defeat them if forced by accident to accept them, comprises the chief task of preparation for an arctic expedition.
The question naturally arises when one views with misgivings the “perils of a polar flight,” as the press euphoniously prints it, what is the sense of it all? Why is the game worth the candle?
There are several fitting replies, all in the affirmative. For instance, establishment of the feasibility of trans-polar flying might give our commercial aviation just the boost it needs. Scientific results, not only along aerological lines but in many other branches, would no doubt repay us fully for the effort and expense. Alaska might profit indirectly from the advertising she would get. And there is always the alluring object of filling in
Polar Sea Northwest of Greenland: There are Broad Spaces of Level Going Between Pressure Ridges
a blank space on the map. But the real urge that warrants another expedition northwards is the possibility of finding land.
The reader will promptly envisage a rocky nubble surrounded by ice. He may be right. But consider the possibilities. The state of New York has an area of 47,000 square miles. Its population is over 10,000,000 people. It is a considerably large tract of land with a goodly number of people on board. Yet the state of New York would appear as but a tiny island in the vast unexplored region of the Polar Sea!
The chance that land will be discovered is good, good enough, in fact, to warrant even under the circumstances a determined effort to find and claim it.
Whalers have reported that they have actually seen land during open seasons when blown north by protracted southerly gales which occasionally occur in the vicinity of Point Barrow. Peary, further east, reported that he saw land from the summit of Cape Thomas Hubbard. On his last two trips out over the polar pack he encountered what he called the “big lead,” an extensive rupture of the heavy floes running generally east-west. This lead may have been the wake, so to speak, of a body of land to the west past which the pack-ice drives.
Additional evidence lies in the study that has been made by members of the U. S. Coast and Geodetic Survey of tidal and ocean current data brought back by various expeditions. The principle is simply that the presence of a land mass always deflects water-flow in its vicinity. Erratic drifts of the Fram and of the Jeanette add contributory data to solution of the riddle.
It is possible further to picture the Philippine-Japanese- Aleutian line of volcanic activity carried on across the top of the globe. At its further end we find Iceland with a tragic history of lava flows and earthquakes. Its surface is mottled with springs of boiling mud and geysers. Over 100 major volcanoes pierce the heavy fog that blankets it. Whence we may argue that in the 1,000 miles of mystery above the Aleutians another fire-built land-mass may exist.
The only substantial argument against the possibility that land may be found is what is known as the "tetrahedral hypothesis." Laboratory experiments have demonstrated the fact that a sphere of viscuous matter, such as putty, when rotated at high speed not only becomes oblate in form, but tends to assume the figure of a tetrahedron with an apex at one axis of rotation and a base at the other.
Scott and Amundsen found the South Pole located at the summit of a plateau 10,000 feet above sea level. Peary took a sounding at the North Pole and got 1,500 fathoms. Other soundings on his line of march, as well as those of the Fram to the westward, all indicate that the bottom of the Polar Sea is a submerged plain corresponding roughly to the elevated antarctic plateau opposite. Thus we have an apex and a base for our terrestrial tetrahedron. Dihedral angles may be traced along north-south ranges of the continents and along east-west chains that skirt the northern lands.
But this proves nothing more than the unlikelihood that any large continent will be found. An island or group of islands, volcanic in origin, is both possible and probable.
Steam Sealer “Diana,” at New York Navy Yard: This Type of Vessel Best Fitted for Ice Navigation
The value of such land is not as problematical as may appear. It will probably be ice-girt, rocky, mountainous, devoid of vegetation, and innocent of all animal life. Yet it may be immensely valuable.
A hundred million years or so ago when the earth was in its infancy its speed of rotation was much higher than today. A warm and humid climate prevailed over the major portions of its surface. There was no icy arctic region. Fish in countless millions infested a tepid Polar Ocean. Vegetation was dank where now huge glaciers lie.
Incalculable time passed. Profound changes in the earth’s crust and climate came about. The fish died. Vegetation vanished, was buried, then subjected to immeasurable pressure. The fish were metamorphosed to oils; trees and giant grasses to coal.
This amazing tale is no figment of the imagination. MacMillan- and the writer sledging up through Ellsemere Land to the Polar Sea, surrounded by glacial ice, buffeted by blizzards that scarcely ceased in summer, found time and again clean seams of coal glistening like masses of black diamonds through the snow.
Every year coal is being located north of the arctic circle. The Navy has large reserves in Alaska, and its eye on a lake of pure vaseline just south of Barrow. In a hundred places oil is seeping through the frozen ground of the Mackenzie district almost within earshot of the rumbling pack ice.
Alaska may lie less than 200 miles from the new land. With Alaska as a criterion the commercial outlook is alluring. No single state in the Union can boast of the great variety of assets that Alaska contains. Among them are coal, copper, oil, gold, silver, tin, lead, marble, timber, fish, fur, agriculture, and fresh meat in the form of reindeer.
Then there is the more abstract, but none the less important, strategic value of such a land.
Picture Europe and Asia as the two great reservoirs of trade.
Today they are connected by long thin pipes of traffic via Panama and Suez. It is not a gross exaggeration to say that commerce only trickles through these pipes.
Now fancy a huge orifice, short and wide, by air across the Pole. The thought is not far-fetched. It taxes the imagination no more than did the dreams of early friends of steam-cars when they visioned our continent girt with railway lines.
Trans-polar traffic when it comes wall come with a rush. Remember the Panama Canal which was looked upon as a fool idea by many intelligent Americans. And already—last summer to be exact—plans have been worked out for a new canal because the present one isn’t big enough to stand the flood of traffic its short-circuiting of trade invites!
An oasis in the Polar Sea will strategically control such traffic. We may picture it as a half-way stopping place, a service station for supplies of fuel and for repairs. We may by slight effort of the imagination envision all sorts of miraculous things such a land might stand for.
On the other hand it savors of maritime frailty to invoke a pot of gold at the Rainbow’s end in order to hearten us for the search. Since the beginning it has been one of the traditional duties of our Navy to open and guard the seas that border American territory. The new task beyond Alaska is specifically that.
Viewing the project broadly, the proposed arctic venture is in no sense a stunt. Nor, broadly speaking, is it a variation from the established type of task for which a naval service is intended. Its mission is to explore an unknown sea with the hope of finding land and with the assurance of throwing light on whether a polar air route is feasible.
The difficulties and the dangers are substantial both in number and in kind. In discussing the project we have dwelt especially upon them, not in a spirit of opposition to the scheme but because in no other way can the gravity and size of the task be fully delineated.
The chances of profit are great. They may be painted in far more vivid colors than is appropriate for a serious discussion of the subject. Yet to treat only of the broad scientific research that can be carried out on such an expedition easily establishes the justification for it.
Naval precedent for such an enterprise has been set by Wilkes, Kane, De Long, Peary, and a score of others. National profit of northern land has been exemplified by Alaska. The idea has been fostered by the President of the United States. From which we conclude that execution of the task is but a matter of time—and money.