Four Degrees Celsius (6 page)

October 3, 1929

Richard Pearce's Diary, Dease Point

It is another rotten day, with the wind switching from the south to northeast, and driving an icy rain … It is a double birthday in the party, Mac being 29 and Don 26. They had an extra portion of fish this morning to celebrate the occasion. When I wished Don many happy returns, he said, “Not here, I hope?” … If some of the Arctic explorers could hear the remarks passed about them here they would be far from pleased, for instance, we were told that we could expect the freeze-up in this section about the 19th or 20th of September. Ice-making on the sea is much slower than we expected.

Back at Wholdaia Lake, the search team was also concerned about the uncertainty of the weather. They needed clear skies for flying, and the snow that kept them from going back to Baker Lake had also created problems for the tug
Ocean
Eagle
that was bringing the skis for 'CZ and 'SO and more fuel to Baker Lake. To make matters worse, a radio check to confirm supplies determined that some of the vital equipment was not on board.
[7]
The tug then had to make its way back through the churning waves to Churchill to retrieve the missing equipment. The days passed with no sign of the tug's arrival at Baker Lake, and, since the boat had no wireless, Blanchet flew with Spence to look for it. Finally they spotted her, encrusted with ice, barely managing to advance through strong northwest gales.
[8]
All they could do was watch helplessly from the air, then turn back to their base. It seemed no matter how well thought out the plan was, the forces of nature had something else in mind.

The SS Ocean Eagle en route from Port Fort Churchill to Baker Lake. Storms that frequently “blew up” in the vast Hudson Bay made travel exceedingly dangerous.
Provincial Archives of Manitoba, Canadian Air Lines Collection #2142.

Cruickshank managed to fly to Stony Rapids for messages and heard about the problem with the
Ocean Eagle
and the barge that accompanied it. When he and Alf Walker then tried to get back to Wholdaia, they were met with a fifty-foot ceiling and quarter-mile visibility, so they turned the plane around. They were, however, able to send messages to Baker Lake, and planned for a direct flight once the weather permitted. The men settled at Stony to wait for fairer skies.

The tug finally made its way into Baker Lake on October 8 with Dr. Don Bruce, an RCMP constable, and supplies. With the assistance of a trader's schooner anchored at the Baker Lake trading post, Blanchet, Spence, and Brown met the tug and transferred the load.
[9]
The headlines of
The
Manitoba Free Press
, October, 2, 1929, heralded the news of the intrepid airman and the progress of the desperate rescue attempt, detailing the dangers of the journey as the tug's captain turned and headed back down Chesterfield Inlet to the port in Churchill. Because this journey took place later in the year than had ever been attempted before, he faced the same difficulties as the pilots. It was touch and go as to whether the ship would be able to make it to Churchill
[10]
before the waterway became completely frozen.

The newspaper continued with details about Dr. Don Bruce, who had been commissioned by Dominion Explorers to lend medical assistance when and if the missing men were found. He would also tend to any of the rescue team if needed. Dr. Bruce was well-suited to working in the North, having gained considerable experience with northern issues when, earlier that year, he had been instrumental in stemming a typhoid outbreak in northern Manitoba.

The front page of
The
Manitoba Free Press
on October 8 declared that no word had yet been heard from Cruickshank, but expressed the hope that the reason for this was bad weather. However, unbeknownst to them, Cruickshank had made a successful attempt on the 8th to reach Wholdaia. From there, he and Walker flew on with Vance, their planes fully loaded, to Baker Lake, travelling 450 miles through snowstorms and finally landing on glassy water in a thick and blinding blizzard. This type of landing is one of the most difficult tasks that a pilot is asked to perform. The shiny flat surface distorts a pilot's depth perception so he cannot gage the height above the water. Hollick-Kenyon, rounding out the group, finally arrived later the same day.
The Northern Miner
, on October 10, 1929, gave the news to a captive audience that all five primary searchers were now together at Baker Lake with the necessary equipment and 7,000 gallons of fuel. It seemed like luck had finally turned in their favour.

However, luck did not appear to have been with the Domex men:

October 5, 1929

Richard Pearce's Diary, Dease Point

Our programme of two meals a day is not very inspiring; particularly as we are staying in bed until eleven in the morning to save fuel and are back into our sleeping bags again at eight. For breakfast to-morrow we are to have a cup of rice soup each and for the second meal two cups of ptarmigan stew. The ptarmigan are flocking and going south. Ducks, geese, swans and so forth have already gone.

The following day was the day the Inuit were due back. Their failure to appear was a devastating blow to the Domex men and the strain was almost more than any of them could bear. It began to show in alarming ways. While hunting, Pearce suddenly became very lethargic and had to be helped back to camp, though he managed to perk up after a “slug of Scotch.”
[11]
Colonel MacAlpine wasn't faring well, either. He had tightened his belt by sixteen inches since arriving at Dease Point. Talk of the tentative departure date to Cambridge Bay created tension among the men, and the colonel had to intervene. “… [T]his patient waiting stuff is the bunk,”
[12]
Pearce complained. To boost their spirits and to pull everyone together again, chocolate bars were doled out.

The men settled in for the night, after moving Thompson and Pearce away from the leak in the tarpaulin. There were now eight men in a row along a ten-foot length. This made for a tight squeeze, but it also created warmth for them. The sod walls smelled of damp dirt, which just increased the sense of cold. The disintegrating, discoloured, and perpetually leaky tarpaulin bulged and stretched over their living space, and the window of 'AO was fogged up with the interior moisture. The damp and dank gloom permeated everything. Sleep was a welcome distraction from the almost unbearable situation.

Dawn arrived and thankfully the temperature outside had dropped. The men checked the stability of the ice and found it rubbery, yet it gave them hope. The snow had melted around Dease Point, which the Domex men thought might be the cause of the late return of the Inuit. Worry escalated, as their food supplies were getting perilously low. The Inuit had wind-dried the naturally oily whitefish, and, when the oil turned rancid, it gave the entire fish a rotten taste. Although the fish is still edible, to the European palates it is almost unpalatable. The dried fish, their main source of nourishment, were cached under piles of rock, and while this method of storage didn't do much for maintaining freshness, it did keep animals from raiding the food.

There was more arguing about whether to stay or go on October 9, but with some pushing to go and others urging caution to stay and wait for the Inuit, the men eventually agreed they couldn't take any decisive action unless they had three things: snow, strong ice, and the Inuit guides. While walking later that morning, Pearce and the colonel realized that the coastline was a labyrinth of islands and that trying to locate Cambridge Bay on their own would be foolish indeed. All the men were having a tough time keeping their minds busy and off of what might be happening “Outside,” the term given to civilization by the bush pilots and explorers in the North. Pearce wrote, “… it is a real tough mental battle to keep control. This diary keeping is a godsend to me.”
[13]

By October 10, the Inuit had still not returned, adding to the bleakness of their days. To clear their heads, several went for a walk. MacAlpine and Pearce split from the group, but when they started back along the ice, the colonel broke through a few times and was badly soaked. The two men hurried back to the sod hut to warm up and dry out. “The rest of the boys went on over one of the islands and reported open water in the main channel, much to our disgust. That has taken some of the joy out of things, but we are still hopeful that the Eskimos know what they are talking about and that chances of our getting out soon are not dark.”
[14]
The day ended on a high note, however, when Alex Milne made a discovery of half a package of wet cigarettes in 'AO. These were divided up, and Pearce remarked, “the butts were small, and the last I saw of Mac's was on the end of a fork. Bob gathered up all the remains and got an extra smoke.”
[15]

On the same day, the following headline appeared in
The Northern Miner
: “Winter Grips North and Stays Hands of Rescuers.” The article went on to report that the sudden onset of freezing temperatures had halted the search flights on floats. All pilots and their crew were now grounded until the ice was strong enough to support the weight of the aircraft.

The air mechanics, under Siers' direction, began the preparations for winterizing 'SQ, 'SO, 'SL, 'RK, and 'CZ. The pilots taxied the planes to the shore on a very small sandy beach, in front of the Révillon Frères Trading Post.
[16]
Despite overcrowding,
[17]
they continued to work as nonchalantly as if they were comfortably back in Winnipeg hangars.

Since spare parts were non-existent and the mechanics had only basic tools, the engine components needed were made from whatever materials the men could scrounge. Stovepipes and sheet-iron metal were available, much to the delight of the mechanics. Firstly, the engine cowlings (the curved pieces of metal that cover and protect the engine) had to be winterized. This was done by closing off the openings that provided air access to cool the engine in the summer. A small shutter was fitted behind the propeller to close off the front of the engine, keeping out the frigid temperatures. All shutters were checked and secured.

Next, heaters were made for each plane, and although they did little in the freezing Arctic temperatures, they did work to some degree. The heat was achieved through an “Intensifier Tube” externally affixed to the end of the exhaust pipe. The heater unit itself was a little over thirty inches in length. It consisted of a long metal tube that provided an annulus around the exhaust pipe through which fresh air was heated. Using a control valve, hot air was delivered to the cabin.
[18]

Then they began gathering the necessary components for the changeover from floats to skis. This was a major undertaking in the heated hangers in Winnipeg, let alone in the great outdoors of the North. Without the assistance of equipment the men would need to build a tree tripod and use a block and tackle to lift the 4,000 pound plane. Soon suitable trees were located, cut, and stripped. This extra work took precious time, but it was necessary for both the safety of the men working on the plane and for the integrity of the plane itself. All hands worked together to ensure that, once ready, the changeover would be smooth.

Although life in the North was anything but usual for the men, ordinary life went on in their hometowns. On October 14 Bill Nadin should have been in the throes of preparation for his wedding day. The talk naturally centered on Nadin's bride-to-be, and to ease the concern and disappointment, all the men showered Bill with rice.
[19]
Important dates came and went for both the marooned men and the rescue team.

October 11, 1929

Richard Pearce's Diary, Dease Point

This was the day we were supposed to start for Cambridge Bay. The thaw is no doubt responsible for the delay in the return of the Eskimos. This has gradually lowered the moral[e] of the party. We seem to be able to talk of nothing else. It tried to snow last night, then switched to rain for a while, but it is now colder again. Most of the boys are very pessimistic, although the Colonel sticks to his prophecy that we will leave by the 17th. I have a hunch he is saying this to keep up spirits. I couldn't make the grade with the whitefish again today. The first piece I got was bad; that seems to be my luck….

The situation was dismal. Human hopes can endure for only so long before the end of the rope is reached. The Domex men, who had started their expedition with enthusiasm and dreams of claiming nature's resources, had no dreams of riches now. They just wanted to go home, and that prospect began to seem less and less likely. The waiting was all-consuming. Waiting for food, waiting for ice, waiting for the Inuit, waiting for rescue.

Colonel MacAlpine decided that what the men needed was to get outside and walk again. So out they all went, cautiously trudging in their ill-fitting footwear over the uneven surface of the snow-covered ground and breathing the fresh, crisp air. They walked for about seven miles and, as they walked, the temperature began to drop, and this bolstered their morale. The fact that the colonel broke through the ice once more didn't dampen their spirits in the least.