Canadian Geographic - The Group of Seven Special Edition
WITH THE ARCTIC PATROL
An excerpt from the first issue of the Canadian Geographical Journal, May 1930, in which the intrepid A.Y. Jackson accompanied Frederick Banting, the renowned Nobel Prize winner who co-discovered insulin, on an expedition to the Arctic. This is the icy world that Jackson and Banting experienced, and recorded with pencil and paintbrush.
Every Summer the Canadian Government sends an expedition by ship to the islands in the Eastern part of the Canadian Arctic Archipelago. The purpose of the expedition is to replenish supplies at the various Government posts in the Arctic, to transport officers of the various Departments of the Government back and forth and, generally, to further the administration of that vast area.
Through the courtesy of the Minister of the Interior, Mr. A. Y. Jackson, the well-known artist, and I were privileged to accompany the expedition of 1927.
The Beothic, a steamship of 2700 tons, was specially converted for the Arctic voyage. Heavy plating and transverse beams protected her from being crushed by the ice. Her shortened bow
was rounded, thus making it possible for her to slide on top of the ice pans instead of crashing into them. A huge steel guard protected the heavy propeller. Her commander, Captain Falke, had been born within the Arctic circle, in Norway, and had spent his life at sea. He combined an intimate knowledge and experience of Arctic voyages with an instinct for navigation.
We left North Sydney on July 16th, and crossed the Arctic circle at 11 a.m. on July 22nd. Early the next morning, when the fog had lifted, we found ourselves approaching the narrow rock-bound harbour of Godhavn, Greenland. Anchor was cast, the whistle was blown and flags were raised. Inuit in their kayaks were the first to greet us, but they were soon followed by the Governor and other Danish officials. We all went ashore in the small boat and were received by the Governor.
As we left Godhavn and continued North, the green, treeless slopes and the snow-clad hills were soon left behind, and the ice fields of Davis Strait came into view. Icebergs and fields of ice from Lancaster Sound, Jones Sound and Kane Basin had been carried out by the ocean currents. This ice was drifting South for hundreds of miles to be ultimately broken up and dissolved in the vast Atlantic. The ice field, which consisted of pans of ice of various sizes, some being at least an acre in area, stretched as far as the eye could see. On the surface of the older pans were pools of fresh blue water, while on the year-old pans the pools were of salt water. The sea was calm because the ice protected it from the wind.
At first sight, the ice field seemed impassable, but the sturdy Beothic, guided by Captain Falke, slowly travelled in a zig-zag course among the larger pans, sinking the smaller ones or pushing them aside. At times she would slip on top of a pan, and with her weight, crush through and make a course. Whenever it was possible she followed a wind-swept lead toward Pond Inlet, our next intended port of call.
The first Canadian Arctic soil that came to view was Bylot Island. This island is capped with ice which in the interior is hundreds of feet in thickness. Its sea coast is characteristic, and can be distinguished from other headlands because of the blue shaggy cliffs between which glaciers flow out, fan-shaped, into the sea. When these glaciers reach the deep water, huge pieces break off, thus forming icebergs.
After rounding Button Point we found that Pond Strait, which lies between the North shore of Baffin Land and Bylot Island, was still a frozen mass of ice. It was impossible for the Beothic to go further, consequently Mr. Maclvenzie decided to proceed to Dundas Harbour on the South shore of North Devon Island.
The post at Dundas Harbour is situated on a little bay, and consists only of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police buildings and the huts of two Inuit families. Long before the post was reached the Police officers on board the Beothic watched with the field glasses for the raising of the flag which indicated that all had been well during the past year. Even before the anchor was cast the officers from the post had rowed out and come aboard. It was great day for them to be in touch with civilization and to receive messages and parcels from home after a year of isolation on this otherwise uninhabited island.
As soon as the supplies were unloaded, and the reports received, we continued our way to Craig Harbour. The Craig Harbour post was unoccupied, it being temporarily closed when the Bache peninsula post was established. The buildings, however, are in excellent condition and a reserve of supplies is maintained at this post. It is most beautifully situated at the foot of a bay, the mouth of which is guarded by Jones’ Island.
Although it was the first of August, the ice had not gone out and the ship had to remain two miles from shore. The Bay is surrounded by steep cliffs five to six hundred feet in height. Ice and snow filled the gulches in the rocks and spread out into tiny rounded glaciers at the foot. A little waterfall had worn the cliff away, leaving a more gentle slope. At this place we climbed to the plateau, which was covered with sharp, jagged, broken rock on which not even moss could grow. After crossing a mile or so we looked down upon Fram Fiord, which was brilliantly illuminated by the midnight sun. Words fail to describe the majesty and beauty of the scene. Mr. Jackson and I lost no time in getting out our paint boxes, but before our sketches were finished the whistle warned us that it was time to sail.
As we crossed from Craig Harbour back to Greenland we were more and more impressed with the dangers of Arctic navigation. There was no charted course. No soundings had been made.
Bearings could not be taken from the sun because of the dense fog. The compass was no longer true to north. The log could not be trailed to tell the distance travelled because the ice would tangle it and tear it off. The rudder could not be set at a fixed point because at each moment the course was changed to avoid a pan of ice, or to follow in a wind-cleared ‘lead.’ Such difficulties were not new to Captain Falke, and by means of his instinct and sense of direction he landed us safely at Etah.
Etah is famous in the history of the North. Kane, Peary, Macmillan, Rasmussen and many other explorers had visited this place. We expected to see a thriving village, but importance and size do not always go together. Etah consisted of only four seal-skin tents.
From Etah we crossed Smith Sound to Ellesmere, passed through Rice Strait between Pim Island and Ellesmere and out into Buchanan Bay, West in
Buchanan Bay and Flagler fiord to the Bache Peninsula Post, which is in latitude 79.04° N.
The coast line along Bache Peninsula is marked by high cliffs, the lower strata of which are violet red, and the upper layers of golden yellow. The latter crumble off and slide down the crevices to the rocks below. The plateau above is barren, but below there is a narrow fringe of vegetation. Varieties of saxifrage, fireweed and stunted willow spring up beneath the snow and ice.
At this most Northerly post, it was not safe to delay. A two year’s supply of coal and provisions were unloaded, Police officers were exchanged, and within five hours we were ready to leave. But even in this short time heavy Arctic ice from Kane Basin had moved in and threatened to prevent our escape to the open sea. At one time it was necessary to blast the ice in order to free the ship. Finally, after drifting for many hours in the ice pack, we gained a “lead” into the open and got back to Rice Strait.
After leaving Bache, short calls were made at Craig and Dundas Harbours, and then our course turned Westward, through Lancaster Sound. We hoped to reach Melville Island, but ice so blocked the course that we were able to go only as far as Cornwallis Island.
Our only stop was made at Beechey Island. On its desolate shore we saw the ribbed remains of a boat left there by Sir John Ross for possible use by expeditions. Close by was the unroofed hut where Franklin spent his last winter. The shore was strewn with debris, pieces of boats, canvas and staves of barrels. Bears had chewed holes in the side of some of the barrels, large enough to admit the head and neck so that they could get the last drop of the contents. The wood was not decayed but was weather-beaten by the wind and storms. A tablet to Franklin and his men tells of their last exploit in this region and recalls the heroism of those dauntless explorers, who, in tiny sailing vessels, ventured through these perilous waters.
The Arctic Summer is not as cold as one might expect. On our trip the thermometer registered between 60° and 70° at Bache. In protected spots the flowering mosses of various colours and the buzzing mosquitoes reminded us of a summer day at home. But the treeless expanse, the everpresent ice and the piercing wind made us fully realize that we were still in Arctic regions.
It is the wind that makes the Arctic cold. As it blows over open, treeless spaces, it drives the snow before it, thus forming the blinding Arctic blizzard which may last for days. During these blizzards the land animals huddle together with their backs to the storm and allow the snow to drift around them. Sudden changes in temperature seldom occur in the Arctic; consequently thunder is so rarely heard that the people here are frightened by it and imagine that the world is coming to an end.