Note 4 — Chapter VI
Reading edition
“We began our march at 8 o’clock on Wednesday afternoon, and halted here at 5 o’clock this morning.4 Later on in the forenoon the wind went over to the northeast and the temperature fell. The snow froze hard, and eventually the going became pretty good. The crust on the snow bore the dogs up, and also the sledges to a certain extent, and we looked forward to good going on the following day; but in this we were doomed to disappointment. No sooner had we got inside the tent than it began to snow, and kept briskly at it the whole day while we slept; and yesterday evening, when we turned out to get breakfast ready and start off, it was still snowing, and deep, loose snow covered everything—a state of things bad beyond description. There was no sense in going on, and we decided to wait and see how matters would turn out. Meanwhile we were hungry, but a full breakfast we could not afford, so I prepared a small portion of fish soup, and we returned to the bag again—Johansen to sleep on, I to rereckon all my observations from the time we left the Fram, and see if some error might not explain the mystery why no land was yet to be found. The sun had partially appeared, and I tried, though in vain, to take an observation. I stood waiting for more than an hour with the theodolite up, but the sun went in again and remained out of sight. I have calculated and calculated and thought and thought, but can find no mistake of any importance, and the whole thing is a riddle to me. I am beginning seriously to doubt that we may be too far west, after all. I simply cannot conceive that we are too far east; for in such a case we cannot, at any rate, be more than 5° farther east than our observations5 make us. Supposing, for instance, that our watches have gone too fast, ‘Johannsen’6 cannot, at all events, have gained more than double its previous escapement. I have assumed an escapement of five seconds; but supposing that the escapement has been ten seconds, this does not make more difference than 6′ 40″ in eighty days (the time from our departure from the Fram till the last observation)—that is, 1° 40′ farther east than we ought to be. Assuming, too, that I have calculated our days’ marches at too great length, in the days between April 8th and 13th, and that instead of 36 English geographical miles, or, rather, more than 40 statute miles, we have only gone 24 English geographical miles, or 28 statute miles (less we cannot possibly have gone), we should then have been in 89° E. instead of 86° E, on the 13th, as we supposed. That is 3° farther east, or with the figures above, let us say together 5° farther east—i.e., we now instead of being in longitude 61° E. should be in 66° E.,7 or about 70 miles from Cape Fligely. But it seems to me we ought to see land south of us just the same. Wilczek Land cannot be so low and trend suddenly so far to the south, when Cape Budapest is said to lie in about 61° E. and 82° N., and should thus be not so much as 50 miles from us. No, this is inconceivable. On the other hand, it is not any easier to suppose ourselves west of it; we must have drifted very materially between April 8th and 13th, or my watch must have stopped for a time before April 2d. The observations from April 2d, 4th, and 8th seem, indeed, to indicate that we drifted considerably westward. On the 2d we appeared to be in 103° 6′ E., on the 4th in 99° 59′ E., and April 8th in 95° 7′ E. Between these dates there were no marches of importance; between the observations on the 2d and the 4th there was only a short half-day’s march; and between the 4th and the 7th a couple, which amounted to nothing, and could only have carried us a little westward. This is as much as to say that we must have drifted 8°, or let us reckon at any rate 7°, westward in the six days and nights. Assuming that the drift was the same during the five days and nights between the 8th and 13th, we then get 7° farther west than we suppose. We should consequently now be in 54° E., instead of in 61° E., and not more than 36 to 40 miles from Cape Fligely, and close by Oscar’s Land. We ought to see something of them, I think. Let us assume meanwhile that the drift westward was strong in the period before April 2d also, and grant the possibility that my watch did stop at that time (which, I fear, is not excluded), and we may then be any distance west for all we can tell. It is this possibility which I begin to think of more and more. Meanwhile, apparently there is nothing for it but to continue as we have done already—perhaps a little more south—and a solution must come.