The Ice Master Read Online Free PDF Page B

pack had lost its novelty. They had explored the ice, had reveled in their first taste of Arctic winter, but now they were ready to push forward. There was plenty of scientific and preparatory work to be done, but it was not enough to keep them from feeling claustrophobic. McKinlay made an attempt to retrieve his thermometers from the hold, but was unable to dig his way through the mountain of boxes to reach the instruments. He was anxious to begin working, but now it seemed he would have to wait until the stores could be rearranged and organized.
    Later, young Mamen wrote in his diary, “. . . it begins to 28 be monotonous and tedious to stay here, and I long to proceed north, but when? Who knows.”
    Then, miraculously, the ice drifted out on the sixth, and the Karluk broke free and steamed toward Cape Smythe. Their coveted freedom was short-lived, however. Suddenly, the tiller smashed and the steering gear broke; and they had to stop once again for repairs. It was maddening, this stopping and starting, and no matter how many times they fixed it, the steering gear never worked for long.
    On one occasion, it had nearly led them to disaster, steering them toward a narrow passage between two enormous, treacherous reefs. The first mate, fortunately, saw the danger just in time and was able to alter her course, but otherwise the ship and all aboard would have been crushed against the rocks.
    The engine, too, needed a good tightening up, because the rough seas had damaged it extensively. Bartlett was as vocal as ever about his displeasure at Stefansson’s choice of vessel. “Our skipper has 29 some strong things to say about the ship and her shortcomings,” McKinlay observed. “It is unfortunate that he himself was not asked to buy the ship, as he might have made a better job of it.”
    Repairs made, they were on their way again two hours later, steaming within a mile of the beach of Cape Smythe before running up against more ice. Knocked about by the immense, churning floes, the ship took a beating.
    O N THE EVENING of August 6, as the Karluk waited offshore of Cape Smythe, an Eskimo family came aboard. The father, Kuraluk, was rumored to be one of the greatest hunters in Alaska. He had been hired to hunt for the expedition while his wife, Kiruk, was commissioned by Stefansson as seamstress. She was a stout young woman, raw-boned and strong, and would sew the winter clothes and skin boots for the staff and crew. It was Eskimo tradition that when a married man was hired, his family came with him, so they had brought their two young children, eight-year-old Helen, and three-year-old Mugpi. Helen was a solemn child, serious and quiet, and Mugpi seemed a cheery little girl, all adorable curiosity and wide brown eyes.
    Another Eskimo also came aboard that day. He was nineteen-year-old Claude Kataktovik, a widower with a baby daughter. He had left his daughter with his family when Stefansson invited him to join the expedition as a hunter, an opportunity he felt he could not refuse. After all, Stefansson had promised him a great deal of money for his services—twenty thousand dollars, according to Kataktovik, for a year’s work. Stefansson also gave him twenty dollars and a rifle.
    Signs of unrest stirred in the crew, who had not been outfitted with winter clothing, even though their orders had promised that they would be. Bring nothing, their orders had dictated. You will be taken care of. But they were still waiting and, it seemed, winter had already arrived. Meanwhile, the Eskimos were fitted out immediately and extensively by Stefansson, with mukluks—or boots made of animal skins—parkas, and sheepskin coats. Now some members of the crew were threatening mutiny if they weren’t taken care of accordingly.
    There had been trouble already between the crew and the first Eskimos hired by Stefansson—Pauyuraq and Asecaq, who went by “Jerry” and “Jimmy,” respectively.