Ice Blink

Scott Cookman

Description

"Absorbing.artfully narrat[es] a possible course of events in the expedition's demise, based on the one official note and bits of debris (including evidence of cannibalism) found by searchers sent to look for Franklin in the 1850s. Adventure readers will flock to this fine regaling of the enduring mystery surrounding the best-known disaster in Arctic exploration."--Booklist

"A great Victorian adventure story rediscovered and re-presented for a more enquiring time."--The Scotsman

"A vivid, sometimes harrowing chronicle of miscalculation and overweening Victorian pride in untried technology.a work of great compassion."--The Australian

It has been called the greatest disaster in the history of polar exploration. Led by Arctic explorer Sir John Franklin, two state-of-the-art ships and 128 hand-picked men----the best and the brightest of the British empire----sailed from Greenland on July 12, 1845 in search of the elusive Northwest Passage. Fourteen days later, they were spotted for the last time by two whalers in Baffin Bay. What happened to these ships----and to the 129 men on board----has remained one of the most enduring mysteries in the annals of exploration. Drawing upon original research, Scott Cookman provides an unforgettable account of the ill-fated Franklin expedition, vividly reconstructing the lives of those touched by the voyage and its disaster. But, more importantly, he suggests a human culprit and presents a terrifying new explanation for what triggered the deaths of Franklin and all 128 of his men. This is a remarkable and shocking historical account of true-life suspense and intrigue.
The Epitaphs.

Messages from the Dead.

The Enigma: Sir John.

The Passage.

Two Ships.

Specters.

Ships' Commanders.

Ships' Companies.

Outward Bound.

Beechey Island.

The Last Summer.

Beset.

Imprisoned.

The Curse.

The Culprit.

Houndsditch.

Schedules.

The Dying Time.

Killer at Large.

The Death March.

Cannibalism.

The Culprit's Footprints.

The Empty Prize.

Afterword: Anatomy of a Disaster.

Appendices.

Bibliography.

Index.

Sujets

• Histoire
• Franklin's lost expedition
• World History
• Northwest Passage
• World
• History
• John Franklin

Informations

• Publié par: Turner Publishing Company
• Date de parution: 21 avril 2008
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9780470313299
• Langue: English

Extrait

Ice Blink
Ice Blink
The Tragic Fate of Sir Jokn Franklin’s Lost Polar Expedition
Scott Cookman
This book is printed on acid-free paper.
Copyright © 2000 by Scott Cookman. All rights reserved
Published by John Wiley & Sons, Inc.
Published simultaneously in Canada.
Illustrations on pages 12, 68, 77, and 97 © 2000 by Rob Ebersol.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise, except as permitted under Section 107 or 108 of the 1976 United States Copyright Act, without either the prior written permission of the Publisher, or authorization through payment of the appropriate per-copy fee to the Copyright Clearance Center, 222 Rosewood Drive, Danvers, MA 01923, [phone], fax [phone]. Requests to the Publisher for permission should be addressed to the Permissions Department, John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 605 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10158-0012, [phone], fax [phone], e-mail: [e-mail].
This publication is designed to provide accurate and authoritative information in regard to the subject matter covered. It is sold with the understanding that the publisher is not engaged in rendering professional services. If professional advice or other expert assistance is required, the services of a competent professional person should be sought.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data:
Cookman, Scott.
Ice blink : the tragic fate of Sir John Franklin’s lost polar expedition / Scott Cookman.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references ( p. 233 )
ISBN 0-471-37790-2 (cloth : alk. paper)
1. Franklin, John, Sir, 1786-1847. 2. Northwest Passage—Discovery and exploration. 3. Arctic regions—Discovery and exploration. I. Title.
G660.C66 2000
919.804—dc21
99-047620
For my sister, Constance Lee Cookman, who in her losing struggle with cancer displayed the same sublime courage and grace as the gallant officers and men of the Franklin Expedition
Ice blink —the name nineteenth-century sailors gave polar mirages, caused by light reflected off the pack ice.
Contents
Preface
   1   The Epitaphs
   2   Messages from the Dead
   3   The Enigma: Sir John
   4   The Passage
   5   Two Ships
   6   Specters
   7   Ships’ Commanders
   8   Ships’ Companies
   9   Outward Bound
10   Beechey Island
11   The Last Summer
12   Beset
13   Imprisoned
14   The Curse
15   The Culprit
16   Houndsditch
17   Schedules
18   The Dying Time
19   Killer at Large
20   The Death March
21   Cannibalism
22   The Culprit’s Footprints
23   The Empty Prize
Afterword        Anatomy of a Disaster
Appendix I       Provisions
Appendix II     Northwest Passage Voyages: Mortality Rates
Appendix III    Mid-Nineteenth-Century Naval Medicine
Appendix IV    Expedition Muster
Bibliography
Index
Preface
I didn’t encounter the ghost of Sir John Franklin until I went north. In the summer of 1988, a bush plane dropped me at a remote outpost cabin in northern Ontario. My purpose was two weeks of solitude and fishing, nothing else. But in my backpack was a book I’d picked up, literally at the last minute, entitled Frozen In Time by Dr. Owen Beattie and John Geiger. It was the first account I’d ever read of the 1845-1848 Franklin Expedition disaster—the disappearance of the largest, best-equipped expedition England ever sent in search of the Northwest Passage. In the years that followed, I read dozens of equally fascinating accounts, but Beattie and Geiger’s book first opened the door on the Franklin mystery for me and suggested that its solution was still waiting to be found.
What triggered the disaster—the deaths of Sir John Franklin and all 128 of his officers and men—will always be open to debate. Yet arguably, the most abundant and tangible evidence available for reconstructing Franklin’s voyage and the events that led to its doom doesn’t lie in the Arctic. It lies in British Admiralty records, made firsthand and documented at the time. These provided a comprehensive look at Franklin’s ships, the men manning them, their clothing, stores and provisions, rationing plans, and a wealth of other details. Since the expedition was completely self-contained, its survival—or death—hinged wholly upon what it took into the Arctic. But the records also revealed a paper trail implicating a cause and a culprit behind the tragedy that followed. In ferreting out these records, I’m indebted to two exceptionally capable researchers accredited by the United Kingdom’s Public Records Office (PRO): Robert O’Hara, accredited PRO military and naval researcher, and Lydia Amey, accredited PRO naval researcher. Thanks must also be given to the librarians at the Public Records Office, Ms. Eleanor Heron at the National Maritime Museum, and Ms. Philippa Smith at the Scott Polar Research Institute. In evaluating the thesis suggested, I’m especially grateful to Dr. David L. Swerdlow, Medical Epidemiologist, Foodborne and Diarrheal Disease Branch at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.
Lacking original source narratives left by the expedition itself—in the form of messages, diaries, or log books yet to be found, or other such undiscovered “smoking guns”—reconstructing the events of Franklin’s voyage is a delicate, demanding exercise in “fill-in-the-blanks.” Fortunately, there is no shortage of contemporary accounts of polar voyages tracking the route of Franklin’s. Through the eyes of these men we can experience, as nearly as possible, what Franklin’s men did. Likewise, contemporary accounts detailing the agonies of polar manhauling, snow blindness, frostbite, starvation, and scurvy also paint a vivid picture of the ordeal that must have been endured by Franklin’s crews. A listing of the sources of these accounts can be found in the bibliography; they are all fascinating and highly recommended reading.
As general reference relating to cannibalism practiced by the Franklin survivors, the expert forensic findings presented by Dr. Owen Beattie in Frozen In Time and various periodicals, and those reported by Anne Keenleyside in Arctic Magazine must be fully and gratefully acknowledged.
The encouragement of my parents, Jane and Leon Cookman, also helped immeasurably in completing the book. Few parents, I think, understand a son quitting a well-paid career in advertising to take up the dubious path of the pen.
Lastly, I must freely acknowledge the unfailing support of my coauthor: a black Lab named Kelly, who was there at the inception of the book on Hematite Lake in Ontario and patiently under my desk in the years it took to complete it. Interestingly, the Franklin Expedition embarked a dog named Neptune on its voyage. If it served them half as faithfully as Kelly has me, then “man’s best friend” is the least tribute that can be paid.
CHAPTER 1
The Epitaphs
By Admiralty Order, 18 January 1854: It is directed that if they are not heard of previous to 31 March 1854, the Officers & Ships companies are to be removed from the Navy List & are to be considered as having died in the service. Wages are to be paid to their Relatives to that date; as of 1 April 1854, all books and papers are to be dispensed with.
—Admiralty Order No. 263
The only thing Sir John Franklin left behind were two faded ship’s muster books. He sent them back from Greenland on July 12, 1845, just before his entire expedition—the largest, best-equipped England had ever sent in search of the Northwest Passage—disappeared in the Arctic.
By Admiralty regulation, the muster listed “the Names of all Persons forming the complement of the ships, with particulars.” By twist of fate, this accounting proved the epitaph of Franklin and every man aboard.
William Orren’s was typical. The paymaster simply listed him AB , or able-bodied seaman, aboard Franklin’s flagship HMS Erebus . He was thirty-four that summer. He gave his birthplace as Chatham, Kent, near the mouth of the River Thames. He signed on with the expedition and appeared for duty the same day—March 19, 1845—exactly two months before it sailed.
Orren was either eager to get back to sea or, more likely, to collect the higher pay the Royal Navy offered for “Discovery Service.” His previous posting had been the Woolwich dockyards, where skeleton crews manned a mothball fleet of ships laid up “in ordinary,” or out of service. He’d been in the navy for fifteen years. His “first entry” was recorded at age nineteen, when he signed aboard the HMS Swan . He must’ve been a rather dull-witted fellow or happy being a simple jack tar, because in all those years he never advanced a grade in rank.

Final Muster Book, HMS Erebus Sent back from Greenland just before the expedition vanished, this was its last communication with the outside world. The scribbled Admiralty notation—written more than ten years later—sealed its fate. “ Officers & Ships Co. are to be considered as having died in the service and their Wages are to be paid to their Relatives to 31 March 1854 .” (Public Records Office, London, England)
The muster book shows 16 shillings (worth about U.S. $55 in 1998 values) 1 deducted from his pay for tobacco, slop (heavy) clothing, and a horsehair mattress. This wasn’t much; an experienced sailor, his seabag must have been ready. Offsetting the deductions was two months’ advance pay—10 pounds and 4 shillings (about U.S. $688 today). At a time when a common laborer made 18 pounds a year ($1,210 U.S.), this was quite a windfall.
The paymaster counted the coins out to him at pay parade—ten gold sovereigns and four silver shillings—and by tradition placed them on top of his outstretched cap. Knowing he was bound for three years in the Arctic, with no ports of call or chance to spend it, the money was probably gone before he was—most of it gone on gambling, rounds of gin (a penny a glass), and prostitutes (sixpence for a “knee trembler” in an a