The Last Voyage of the “Baychimo”  

It’s an ill wind that blows nobody any good. At least that is how I looked at the situation when the Baychimo was caught in the Arctic pack ice in October 1931. I had been unemployed for eight months when, thanks to the kindness of Mr. D. Mitchell, I was able to obtain the job as operator in the Baychimo on what afterwards turned out to be the last voyage of the well known ship.

Having given up the sea life in 1927 I was not at all pleased at the idea of returning to ships again, but beggars cannot be choosers and so I signed on. The voyage ordinarily lasts just over 3 months but it turned out to be 8 months and 17 days before I got back to Vancouver again.

We left Vancouver on 7th July, 1931, and had a good send off from a large crowd on the dock at Evans and Coleman’s wharf.

After leaving Victoria we ran into fog and finally very bad weather for three days, then more fog and muggy weather until we arrived at Unalaska. Here we took on sufficient coal to make up for what had already been consumed, and left next day. Soon after leaving Unalaska it was found that our steering gear had got damaged, evidently during the bad weather we had between Victoria and Unalaska. This necessitated putting into Nome for repairs. We were not allowed ashore at Nome so I saw nothing of the famous place but quite a lot of their mosquitoes came off to visit us, and I was very glad to get away from there.

Incidentally, Nome is not an easy station to raise on 600 metres. He is usually working on a longer wave and takes very little notice of ships. After leaving Nome I had my last schedule with Vancouver VAB whose signals were now too weak probably owing to the 24 hours daylight which prevailed then.

We came up to the ice pack on July 26th and I was naturally very interested in seeing this for the first time. The Captain took the ship right up to the pack, had a good look around, and decided there was nothing to be done except drop anchor and wait. The ice was one solid mass stretching from the shore as far out as we could see with no leads in it of any description. We were now about ten miles south of the village of Wainwright and about 100 miles south of Point Barrow which is the most northerly point of Alaska.

The wireless station at Point Barrow was a great help to us and the operator Mr. Morgan was very obliging and anxious to help in giving us weather reports, ice reports etc. He told us that no ship had passed Point Barrow so far and that the ice had not moved from off shore yet. A few days later the Patterson joined us. She is a trading ship from San Francisco commanded by Captain C. T. Pedersen, and goes up to the Arctic every year as far as Herschel Island.

Her commander Captain Pedersen has spent many years in the Arctic and is said to know more about Arctic ice conditions than any other man, and I guess this is correct as he has been going up there since he was a boy in the old whalers. The Patterson carries no wireless, and she had already been up there three weeks when we arrived waiting for the ice to shift. At Unalaska we had met two United States Coast Guard Cutters, and the crews of these two boats made themselves very friendly and affable. Another United States Cutter, the Northland, was at this time a little further south of us. She comes up to Point Barrow every year bringing supplies and sometimes a few passengers. We were in touch with her by wireless all the time, and obtained ice and weather reports from her.

It may not be generally known but I understand the British Government contributes towards the upkeep of these United States Cutters which patrol the Alaskan coast and the Arctic. The cutters are very obliging, and have done lots of work for the Baychimo and other Hudson Bay boats in previous years.

The Northland was very anxious to get to Point Barrow as she had on board gasoline and oil for Colonel Lindbergh who was due at Point Barrow any time, then on his flight across the pacific.

About this time, 1st August, the dangers of the Arctic were brought home very forcibly to me when the S. S. Tchoukotka, a Russian ship on the Siberian side, started calling SOS. She was caught in the pack and all hands had to abandon ship. They were rescued by another Russian ship with the loss of one man who died from heart failure. Her position was given as Latitude 68.10 N Longitude 176.42 W.

The ice was now beginning to move and we made frequent attempts to get through but always with the same result, some times making a little headway and sometimes being pushed further back. Once, we got up to within 20 miles of Point Barrow and then had to come back. It was whilst we were so near Point Barrow that the Lindbergh plane passed right over us on its way to Nome. The Northland had been unable to reach point Barrow in time to deliver his supplies of gasoline, so, the weather being favourable, Lindbergh decided to wait no longer.

In the meantime I had established communication with Aklavik and also with the St. Roch, the police boat which was anchored at Herschel Island. Through the St. Roch and Aklavik we were able to get into touch with the Hudson Bay Fur Trade Commissioner Mr. Parsons and also with the Western Arctic Manager for the Hudson Bay Company, Mr. Bonnycastle. They were both waiting at Herschel for us and seemed very anxious about whether we were going to get through or not.

While we were anchored off Wainwright we were visited by crowds of Eskimos and their women, nearly every one of the latter with a huge lump on her back which turned out to be a baby. They carry them slung on their backs inside the parka and it’s a wonder to me the kids never get suffocated. We were also visited by Jim Allen, a trader at Wainwright, and his daughter who is a fully qualified nurse and takes care of all the sick people around Wainwright. Allen brought with him some movie people from Hollywood who were up there taking pictures for Scott Arctic Productions Ltd. They had finished their picture and were anxious to get back to Hollywood. The finally got away on the Northland some months later.

By this time a few more ships had arrived including the “Trader” from Nome and a sailing ship called the “Holmes”, and later on the well known “Boxer”. The Trader is not much larger than a fair sized gasboat but nevertheless she was the first boat to get through the ice and arrive at Point Barrow that year.

The Boxer is run by the American Bureau of Education and is sent up to give assistance to the Eskimos. I understand a brand new Boxer will be going up there this year and the old one scrapped.

On the 20th August the wind became favourable, that is Northeast, and the ice began to open up so that we were able to reach Point Barrow on the 21st August, although hampered by fog and heavy ice all the way. The Trader arrived first, the Patterson second and we came up just after the Patterson. The people of Point Barrow were naturally very pleased to see these boats arrive as they were beginning to doubt whether any ships would get through this year. This of course meant no supplies for them for the coming winter.

We did not stay very long at Point Barrow as the skipper was anxious to get on. We were already very much behind time. We stayed long enough to take on supplies in the shape of carcasses of reindeer, some ducks, and a few Eskimos to help work cargo.

We then proceeded towards Herschel Island 21st August, passing the Patterson that same evening and encountering more ice which held us up for a time but later on we got into fairly clear water. We were held up by ice for two days about 100 miles from Herschel but arrived there on the 26th August, and the Patterson came in six hours later. By this time I was in touch with the Department of Marine station at Coppermine operated by Mr. P. Davies. They were also very anxious about us and wondering whether we would make that place or not. We were now very much behind the time and it was decided not to go any further than Coppermine and for a time even Coppermine was doubtful.

After discharging cargo at Herschel, a job in which everybody aboard takes part, we left there on the morning of the 28th August, the Mounted Police boat St. Roch leaving about the same time. The St. Roch was bound for Tree River where they would go into winter quarters, but was calling at a few places en route.

After going about 20 miles we were held up by a solid barrier of ice and after a time came back and anchored at Herschel. The next day the same thing happened and it was decided that night to discharge all the cargo at Herschel next morning. However, next day a favourable wind came along and opened up the ice a little and we made some progress although it was very tough going nearly all the time. We called at several posts and omitted quite a few and finally arrived at Coppermine on 5th September. Here I met Mr. P. Davies, the operator at the station, who had been there then about a year and seemed fairly well satisfied with his lot in life although somewhat lonely.

Coppermine seems to be the busiest place in the Arctic with seaplanes buzzing around most of the time between there and Great Bear Lake. It was here that Mr. Parsons the Fur Trade Commissioner left us by aeroplane in the company with Bishop Geddes who had joined us at Herschel.

We left Coppermine on 9th September and arrived at Herschel again on the 12th without meeting any ice. Leaving Herschel Island next morning the 13th September (please note date) we proceeded towards Point Barrow from where we had been getting very favourable weather reports all the way from Coppermine. But weather does not stay favourable for long up there and before we got to Point Barrow it had changed so that we had some difficult in getting through the last 100 miles to Barrow. Point Barrow was finally reached on 18th September and owing to bad ice conditions we did not get away from there until the 22nd. The ship being light instead of pushing her way through the ice, she would rise on top of it and it took us all day on the 22nd to get through the last piece of ice around Point Barrow which separated us from open water. Had the ship been loaded we would have gone through that ice easily. However, at 5 p.m. that night we got through and everybody was very pleased as we imagined it was now all plain sailing with no more ice. But we were to be very sadly disillusioned for that night we were again held up and next morning we had got as far as it was possible to go — about 70 miles south of Point Barrow. The only thing we could do was to wait for a Northeast wind to shift the ice away from the shore again.

We were anchored behind grounded ice in clear water off Seahorse Reef. This was on the 26th September and it was getting very late. We had on board now Mr. Bonnycastle, Western Arctic Manager for the Hudson Bay Company who had never been out by boat before and came around just for the trip, also several Hudson Bay Company employees who were coming out after various periods spent in the Arctic. These latter were naturally anxious to get out quickly and this enforced delay must have been very irksome to them.

Days went by, and still the much hoped for Northeaster did not come. The temperature dropped and the water around us began to freeze, each day becoming a little thicker until it was strong enough to walk on. There had been some snow and dog teams began to pass daily within sight of the ship having come from the village of Wainwright about 20 miles away. They were soon able to come right up to the ship, and it looked as though we were there for the winter. However, everybody thought there was still a chance if only a roaring Northeaster would come along. A light Northeast wind would be useless. We had a football aboard and we now played on the ice every day right alongside the ship, and a very good ground it made. During the day we were making preparations for spending the winter and with this in view a party was sent ashore every day to stack up driftwood of which there was a considerable quantity lying along the shore. There were also numerous wrecks of old whaling ships. The Chief Office busied himself making sleighs and the Engine Room Department were busy turning gasoline barrels into bogeys for use in the shack if necessary. Winter clothing was given out to the members of the crew. This consisted of a duffle parka with canvas snowshirt, duffle pants and canvas pants, leather gauntlets and duffle socks and some of the fortunate ones obtained a pair of canvas boots. These were badly needed as it was now getting very cold, and with as much coal as possible being saved there was very little heat in the ship. The top of the engine room was the only warm place in the ship and here we would gather and discuss the prospects for and against getting out. The lights were also shut down after about 7 p.m. which made things more miserable.

The clothes mentioned above were very useful and helped to make us more comfortable but it is absolutely necessary to have a complete outfit of skin clothes if one intends spending the winter in the Arctic.

I was now working Coppermine, Aklavik, and the St. Roch every night and doing quite a lot of business with Coppermine who came in quite good and gave us an excellent service to Winnipeg via Churchill. As we were getting all orders from Winnipeg this was very convenient. As soon as I finished in the evening with Coppermine the dynamo was shut down and everything was in darkness. Of course, there were kerosene lamps but they are a poor substitute. During the day I worked Point Barrow on the emergency set which was good enough for 400 miles and has been heard at a much greater distance.

We got a scare one evening about six p.m. About a dozen of the crew were playing football on the ice when it suddenly cracked right across the middle of the pitch. There was a wild scamper for the ship which everyone reached safely. By this time the ice was about six or seven inches thick all round the ship and we were lying behind grounded ice which may have been anything from 20 to 30 feet thick. The ship began to move very slowly and it was evident that a crush had started. The engines were tried but were powerless to do anything. Luckily, the crush did not last long, but it shifted us about 100 yards nearer shore. Another 100 yards would have put us right on the beach. This movement was caused by a high tide which floated the grounded ice behind which we were anchored and the pressure from behind did the rest. There was very little wind at the time, fortunately, but everyone was more or less startled by the suddenness of the pressure and that was one night when the dynamo was not shut down as it was quite possible another crush might start and we might have to abandon ship in a hurry. However, the Baychimo did not move again until Thanksgiving Day, 26th November, but for some nights after that first crush I think everybody slept with their clothes on.

Everybody was now convinced we were there for the winter and preparations were pushed forward accordingly. The Hudson Bay Company decided to take out their office staff by aeroplane and any members of the crew who were not required by the Captain. Of course, every member of the crew expressed a desire to go out as the prospect of spending a winter up there did not al that time appear to be very desirable. However, things turned out to be much better than we imagined.

It was decided that 17 of the crew should remain behind and take up winter quarters ashore with the idea of working the ship back to Vancouver in the following summer. Those remaining behind were the Captain, Chief Engineer, 2nd Mate, 3rd Mate, 3rd Engineer, Chief Steward, Wireless Operator, Donkeyman, 2nd Cook, 4 Sailors, 3 Firemen, and a Hudson Bay Company’s apprentice. The latter having spent a few years in the Arctic was there for the purpose of giving us a few hints on how to take care of ourselves in these cold northern climes.

In the meantime I established communications with Nome on long wave and messages were sent to various aeroplane companies in Fairbanks and Nome for a price to take out the other people. The Northern Aerial Transport Company of Nome finally got the job and they prepared to do it with 3 planes on wheels making two trips each. In all I think there were 19 people to go out in order to catch the last boat, the Victoria, from Nome to Seattle.

On the 15th October I started to work Nome with weather reports and also tried Kotzebue but was unable to hear Kotzebue so had to work him through Nome. The planes intended doing the job in two hops and with that end in view came to Kotzebue which is about 330 miles south of where the ship was lying, and about 150 miles north of Nome.

The Kotzebue-Baychimo hop being the most difficult and dangerous and time being very precious they decided to send two planes up to the ship, and have the third plane relaying from Kotzebue to Nome. In this way they hoped to deliver some, if not all, of the people at Nome in time to catch the boat. However, one plane broke down and upset their plans so they concentrated on getting all the men to Kotzebue first. The weather was not at all good hereabouts and the success of the business depended entirely on getting good weather. We were also anxious to get as much work done ashore as possible before the planes came in, as there was a great deal of stuff to be taken ashore and every man was valuable as the greater part of the stuff was dragged on sleds by man power a distance of about 3/4 of a mile.

The shack was to be made from hatches, tarpaulins, and the lumber from the two fox farms which we had aboard. The materials for these fox farms had been taken to Herschel Island years before when the Hudson Bay Company contemplated starting a fox farm there, but the scheme had been abandoned. The lumber proved a godsend to us for use in the shack.

We also had about 450 bags of coal to put ashore and all food supplies besides numerous other things. The Chief Officer was already busy with the erection of the shack. A site had been chosen on the Spit as near to the ship as possible, and within a very short time the shack was erected and a very good job was made of it, too.

The structure consisted of an oblong shaped house divided into three compartments, the centre one being the galley with accommodation for Chief Steward and 2nd Cook. The other two compartments were occupied by, one for the officers and one for the sailors and firemen. Each place had its own mess table etc. The whole place was approached by a long wide porch, in which most of the stores were kept, leading to a door opening in the centre of the galley. The porch was enclosed on all sides, and fitted with a door. On one side of the porch a large room was constructed for the use of the Captain, besides which it contained the wireless set and numerous stores which were required to be kept from freezing. On the other side of the porch was the lavatory. Both of these places were approached by doors leading from the inside of the porch so that the whole place was self contained, and it was quite unnecessary to go outside for anything if the weather happened to be bad as it frequently was. There was a bogey in each room and bunks were built up along the sides of each place. We also brought in chests of drawers, a washstand or compactum and each man made his own bunk as comfortable as was possible. The whole place was lighted by gasoline and kerosene lamps.

All the people who were going out were by now getting very anxious about the planes. On the other side of the spit there was a lagoon which was now frozen solid and covered with about two inches of snow. On this lagoon a suitable site was marked out as a landing ground for the planes.

The weather was good with us but unsuitable further south at Kotzebue, but about the 7th of October soon after luncheon the buzz of an aeroplane engine was heard and two planes came into sight, circled over the ship and then made a perfect landing on the lagoon. This caused great excitement amongst all hands, especially the people picked to go out.

We had already arranged by wireless for the planes to bring some supplies up for us and as soon as these were unloaded and the gas tanks filled up they were ready for the return journey providing the weather at Kotzebue was OK. There were only seven places in these two planes, one place being filled with account books etc., but so keen were the men to get out that they had to toss up to decide who was going first. The weather proved suitable at Kotzebue and the first batch got out that afternoon. The planes brought their own gasoline along in five gallon cans. They arrived safely at Kotzebue that evening. Owing to bad weather it was three days later before the planes came back for the second batch. These arrived safely at Kotzebue and then more bad weather set in and delayed the operation for a few more days.

However, the weather improved somewhat in the south, and the planes took advantage of this to relay the Kotzebue crowd to Nome. This was accomplished successfully and it now only remained to get the last bunch out in time to catch the Victoria which was leaving on the 23rd October. The planes arrived at the ship on the 22nd, but it was too late to go back that night so an early start was made on the morning of the 23rd. Both planes made Kotzebue safely and left soon after for Nome, but only one plane arrived at Nome in time to catch the boat which left that evening. The other plane containing three members of the crew met with poor weather conditions and landed for the night somewhere between Kotzebue and Nome. They arrived at Nome the next day and were taken aboard the United States Cutter Northland which took them to Seattle.

We were now able to concentrate all our energies on getting the ship and shack fixed up for the winter. We were still living aboard the Baychimo and it was anything but comfortable. It had been decided to take the emergency wireless set ashore and fix it up in the shack to keep in communication with Point Barrow about 70 miles north of us. This was a small quenched gap spark set run from four 6 volt accumulators and it proved very efficient. A gasoline engine taken from one of the motor boats was used to charge batteries with. Of course I took the receiver and also the D.F. set. The rest of the wireless gear was left aboard. On the 25th of October I said good-bye to Nome, Coppermine, and the St. Roch and closed down the main set. The next few days were spent in charging batteries from the ships dynamo and getting everything ready to go ashore. On the 29th October the Baychimo wireless closed down for good and I told Point Barrow to listen out for me in a few days time, when I would have the set fixed up ashore in the shack. Two masts were made by lashing lifeboat masts together but getting them into the ground was a hard job as the ground was frozen solid, but in the end we made a very good one wire aerial with one mast supported against the side of the shack. Getting a decent ground I knew was going to be my chief difficulty as to run wires to the edge of the sea ice was out of the question. In the end I decided to try the receiver out with the best ground I could get by digging. I succeeded in getting Rugby in England at a good strength and on the 4th November established communication with Point Barrow who said he could read me quite well. We made schedules and left it at that.

There was other work to be done in and around the shack such as cutting ice for fresh water, fetching driftwood in on sleds and late on snowblocking the roof and sides of the shack.

We had left the ship and taken up quarters in the shack about the 26th of October, and everybody was glad to get away from the ship as the cold and discomfort aboard was intense. The shack proved to be much more comfortable as we were able to keep ourselves quite warm, and each day we went back to the ship to fetch things to add to our comfort. The days were beginning to get very short now, and it would not be long before the sun disappeared altogether.

We were getting frequent visits from white traders and Eskimos from the village of Wainwright, and had received on visit from people from Point Barrow. They came down in a motorcar known as a snowmobile which was a Ford car with skis on the front instead of wheels. The back wheels were left on but had chains round them.

This snowmobile travelled at a surprisingly good rate and they said it was a fine way of travelling. Later on in the year Mr. Morgan the operator at Point Barrow did a trip of over 400 miles in this same snowmobile to Barter Island and back, and had no difficulty at all except a three days stoppage while a blizzard was on.

The Wainwright people brought us carcasses of reindeer and sold us fur clothing which was badly needed. The duffle clothes given out by the Company were very useful but not enough. Mukluks, parkas, skin trousers and skin socks are absolutely necessary in my opinion. Their prices were rather stiff but the Eskimos were much more reasonable than the white traders who seemed to think we would pay any price they asked.

It did not take us long to get settled down in the shack. The days were spent in fetching and sawing up driftwood, cutting fresh water ice blocks and numerous other jobs. The coal had to be used only for the galley stove as it was necessary to save as much as possible to work the ship out in the summer. Coal was to be had locally but of very inferior quality. The fresh water ice had to be hauled on sleds a distance of two miles and this caused trouble in the camp. It was no joke hauling blocks of ice over bad ground all that distance. A start had been given to this work by hiring dog teams for the purpose, but it was necessary to have a much larger supply to see us through the winter and it all had to be done by man power. The men could only fetch three or four blocks per day, and after one trip were about exhausted. As the requirements of the camp were usually three blocks per day we were not getting very far ahead with a surplus, and it looked like being a never ending business. The question was solved by hiring dog teams to do the hauling and using melted snow for washing. It’s a pity a dog team had not been bought outright for the camp in the first place as it would have saved us endless trouble. To feed them would have cost nothing as there was plenty of food left over. We had six pups with us brought by different people aboard from Eastern Canada and they were developing well, but would not be ready for harness for another six months. They became great favourites in the camp and eventually grew into fine big dogs, far better than any of the local ones which were a poor lot.

The snow was not very deep yet but we made an attempt at snowblocking and succeeded in covering part of the roof. There is a knack in cutting snowblocks and it was some time before we could get the hang of it. The first blocks were either too small or if you succeeded in getting a large one it would split in the middle with the last cut. Then again, the man who was building seemed to think it was necessary to make the blocks fit just the same as though he was building a brick house. Result was that by the time he had finished whittling away a block to make it fit nicely there was not much left of it. The snow also was not yet in the right stage for cutting so we left that job until it became colder. The temperature was around 10° below zero at this stage.

The long evenings were spent playing cards and reading. We had plenty of books fortunately which had been put aboard in Vancouver by some thoughtful person or Society. We had two gramophones and plenty of good records. We were getting three good meals per day and did not need them. In fact, no one could eat three meals per day and enjoy it which was surprising in an atmosphere which one would think would tend to sharpen the appetite. Of course we were getting up too late in the morning and cramming three meals into too short a space of time. This was rectified later on. Lights usually went out about midnight and all was quiet after that except for the snoring of certain individuals. At time the place was unbearable because of the heat and for anyone occupying a top berth as I did it was more like being in the tropics than in the Arctic. If you shifted into a bottom bunk you would then be too cold in the middle of the night unless you possessed a sleeping bag. For this reason owners of sleeping bags occupied the bottom berths and those with only blankets took the top berths. Nevertheless this heat question was a continual source of argument nearly all the time. If it was too hot for a man in a top berth it was too cold for a man in a bottom berth and so on, and there was a surprising difference in temperature between the two, usually about 10 degrees. In time we were able to regulate the heat so everybody was suited, no mean achievement.

During a blizzard which usually lasted three to four days we were confined to the shack all the time and had to keep the ventilators closed also. Lamps were used throughout the day now as there was no sun, only about three to four hours of twilight.

The snow was now getting quite deep where it had drifted and was frozen nicely for cutting into blocks, so we pushed on the work of banking the sides of the shack. A blizzard would help very nicely with this work. All hands were on the job and when it was finished we had a solid wall of snow from three to four feet thick all round the shack. This sent up the temperature inside considerably. The snow seems to come chiefly during a blizzard and drifts as high as the shack were formed. I never saw a snowstorm all the time we were in the shack. The actual snowfall up there is not great. The snow starts to drift along the surface of the ground when the wind is blowing at 12 mph.

There is a dog team mail three times a year from Point Barrow to Kotzebue, leaving Point Barrow on the 1st November, 1st January, and 1st March. The Point Barrow mail carrier travels as far as Point Hope where he meets the man from Kotzebue with the inward mail. There they exchange loads so that the first mail arrived at our shack about 21st November. We did not expect anything by that mail but we were looking forward very confidently to a big mail towards the end of January.

The first real winter gale started on the 24th November, and kept us indoors for three days as usual. It was impossible to see for more than six feet ahead and unsafe to go outside. On the morning of the 26th November the gale abated sufficiently for us to see that the Baychimo had departed from her anchorage, and the sea ice had piled up in places to an enormous height. There had been very high water at the same time and it was easy to see there had been considerable movement of the ice. All sorts of conjectures were formed as to the whereabouts of the ship, but the gale was still too strong to go far from the shack. Next day search was made along the coast by dog team for about 15 miles north but no sign of the Baychimo was seen. It was thought the ice had piled in on top of her and she had sunk where she was, but a careful search of the ice where she had been anchored revealed nothing, not even a piece of wreckage.

Winnipeg was informed via Point Barrow and Eskimos from Point Barrow searched the coast up there. There were 21 bales of furs still aboard, and so certain had we been that the ship would winter safely where she was that a number of the crew had neglected to bring all their personal belongings ashore. The Captain was the biggest offender in this respect. He had left nearly all his clothes aboard.

On the 3rd December Point Barrow reported that the ship was found 18 miles south of Point Barrow and 5 miles off shore still standing up and apparently undamaged. She had drifted during that gale close to 50 miles further north. A white trapper and an Eskimo were staying with us when this news came through, and they immediately started off with their dogteams to try and salvage the furs.

The feeling amongst the crew when the ship left us was one of relief. The prospect of a long winter cooped up in that shack and the uncertainty of what would happen in the summer when we went aboard again did not appeal to anyone.

After a few days Point Barrow reported 11 bales of furs salvaged and ship further away from shore. A dogteam was sent down from Point Barrow to take Captain Cornwell up there to receive the furs and see what could be done about the ship.

She proved to be pretty badly knocked about with a hole in her side. It seemed fairly certain she would sink as soon as the ice broke up. The furs were all salvaged and there was nothing else of value aboard.

Christmas was now approaching and there was an invitation to go and spend it at Wainwright. All the Eskimos would be back home from trapping to spend a few days with their families before going on the trapline again. The Skipper was still at Point Barrow, and likely to be there for some time yet.

The frequent blizzards had piled up the snow so deep that we were kept busy digging ourselves out, and the entrance to the shack was now down a flight of six steps cut in the snow. We built a snow wall round the ice dump and another place in which to saw wood, also made of snowblocks.

It was while we were on this job that one bright lad discovered the best way to cut snowblocks was with a saw and a shovel, and so the snowknife was discarded except for building purposes. Building with snowblocks became easy after that.

Christmas eve arrived and about half the crew departed for Wainwright on a lovely moonlit night on three dogteams sent up by the villagers. They cam back about ten days later and reported having a very enjoyable but rather dry time.

We in the shack had a singsong and dance with gramophone music and a home brew of the Chief Steward’s. The latter was spoiled somewhat by some idiot emptying a bottle of limejuice into it, in the hope it would have the desired effect more quickly. It certainly did and a very happy party broke up at 3 a.m. on Christmas morning. The brew of the Steward’s had proved very effective, and all the more enjoyable because it was totally unexpected and we had thought to have a dry Christmas. He had been very secretive over the brewing. We got another surprise on Christmas Day when another lad produced a full quart of overproof rum with the seal still on and shared it amongst the crowd. He had kept it for six months and thought this was a good occasion on which to kill it. Needless to say it was much appreciated. We had turkey and plum pudding and under the circumstances spent a very enjoyable Christmas. New Year’s Day brought forth another turkey. These turkeys had been brought up from Nome by the planes in October thanks to somebody’s thoughtfulness. It was at this time we started having two meals per day, and we felt much better for the change and had better appetites. It was now possible to enjoy a meal and also to look forward to it, whereas before we had not cared whether we sat down to a meal or not, and half the stuff was wasted.

The mail man from Point Barrow was now due and everybody got down to the business of writing letters home. He arrived on the 3rd January with the Captain from Point Barrow who was very glad to get back. He could tell us nothing about whether we were going out or not by plane, but said the ship was moving further out from shore, and he thought she would become a total loss at any time. The inward mail was the next thing to look forward to, and the mail man said he would be back around the 21st January.

Nothing of importance happened in the next three weeks except that the ship had disappeared altogether, so Point Barrow said. Polar bears had been reported in the vicinity by Eskimos, but nobody ever saw one.

The mail man duly arrived on the 25th January and dashed our hopes by bringing only a handful of letters and no newspapers. Only one man got anything worth calling a mail and I think he received 21 letters. The majority received nothing at all and we could not understand it as we knew there were letters in Vancouver for us, and the party that went out in October promised faithfully to forward them. However, it seems on cannot rely on mails in the Arctic, but it was a great disappointment to all except the one lucky member.

The sun had now returned and a very welcome sight it was. Early in February we received news that we were to be taken out by planes providing everybody was willing to take the risk. No one demurred and we began to make preparations for leaving. It was impossible to take much luggage in a plane and therefore everyone had stuff to sell or dispose of somehow. A message was sent to Wainwright to tell the Eskimos to come along if they wanted to buy anything. They came along in bunches of three and four and bought most of the things we had to sell at bargain prices. They knew we could not take the things away with us and bid accordingly.

The Northern Aerial Transport Company again got the job of transporting us to Fairbanks via Kotzebue, and with the weather being fairly good around this time they began to get busy. The first two planes arrived about the 10th of February at noon, this time on skiis, and landed perfectly on the lagoon where the snow was fairly level and frozen hard. They had no difficulty in finding us as we put out plenty of landmarks.

A few days before a plane had arrived at Point Barrow from Anchorage Alaska via Fairbanks and Fort Yukon on a fur buying expedition. They had flown out over the ice from Point Barrow to see if there was any sign of the Baychimo, and as it was a lovely clear day they were able to see a good distance from a height of 7000 feet. They reported no sign of the ship and so we decided she had gone for good.

Only one plane got away that afternoon, the other being unable to start his motor owing to the cold. It was now around 30° below zero, and the lowest I saw up there was 42° below zero. Three men got away in the first plane and landed safely at Kotzebue. The plane was back again next day, and both planes left this time with six more men. Five men went the following day leaving the Captain, Chief Officer and myself to follow the next day in the last plane.

The shack and its contents were sold to the man who had salvaged the furs, and he got a bargain. Certain things were packed up and left to be brought out by the next boat going up there. On the 14th February I said good-bye to Point Barrow after getting the weather report from Kotzebue through him and dismantled the wireless set. The plane arrived at noon and was in a hurry to get away so we piled aboard and took off. There was a heavy load on this trip and it took the pilot some time to climb. We arrived at Kotzebue 3-1/2 later after a good trip and landed on the sea ice. Everybody was now safely at Kotzebue and next day the Captain and two others left for Fairbanks.

There is a railway from Fairbanks to Seward, and it was necessary for us all to be at Fairbanks in time to catch the train which leaves every Monday morning at 8 a.m. The weather was promising at Kotzebue but the Captain and his companions had a rough trip. Next day there was no flying. It was a great treat to get a change of food at Kotzebue at the Roadhouse where the food and cooking is excellent. There were letters for us too at the Post Office, also papers, but the majority of the letters had gone adrift somewhere. I left Kotzebue two days later at 8 a.m. and arrived Fairbanks at noon after a stoppage at Ruby on the Yukon river for gasoline. From Ruby to Fairbanks the trip was very bumpy and not over pleasant. Fairbanks is an up to date town and the Nordale where we stayed is very comfortable with hot and cold running water in each room, radios and other comforts.

The Northern Aerial Transport Company accomplished their part of the business successfully by getting everybody to Fairbanks in time to catch the train. However, the train was held up, snowbound, and arrived four days late. That did not bother us, however, as we were very comfortable in Fairbanks and found the people very decent and entertaining. The temperature varied from 50 to 55° below zero here but it is a dry atmosphere and the cold is not so intense. It was possible to discard skin clothes, and here we were able to get a welcome and much needed bath at any time. The picture theatre was well patronized and much appreciated. The hotel lobby seemed to be a rendezvous for everybody, and I had several talks with oldtimers who had been in the ‘98 rush. Some of them had not been outside since.

On the following Monday we boarded the train for Seward and left Fairbanks with a two day journey ahead and probably longer if any more snowslides occurred. The train does not carry a sleeper or dining car. They stop at certain places for meals and we stayed at the hotel at Curry for the night. This is the most modern and up to date hotel in Alaska, and it is only necessary to step across the platform and you are inside the hotel. We reached Curry at midnight having been delayed while waiting for a snowplough to clear the snow off the line. Next morning we were away immediately after breakfast and reached Anchorage at noon where we stopped one hour for luncheon. We arrived a Seward at 8 p.m. that same night after a railway journey which is unsurpassed fro the magnificence and grandeur of the scenery. The railway passes quite close to Mt. McKinley which is over 21,000 feet high, and the highest mountain on the North American continent.

Next day we boarded the steamer Yukon for Seattle and left Seward at 10 a.m. We arrived at Seattle seven days later in time to catch the midnight boat for Vancouver where arrived at 8 a.m. on March 9th, 24 days since the last plane left the shack.

A. F. Jamieson

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