Trapped in Ice (10 page)

The days have gotten shorter and shorter and last week the sun set and hasn't risen again. This night will last for almost three months. It doesn't just stay dark all the time, though. Each day there's a midday, high moon time. It isn't bright out, like it would be during a normal day, but there's enough light to see by. During this time everybody is outside, working hard. We helped move all the gear off the ship and into the ice camp. We've helped Mother stitch new clothing. Probably hardest of all, we've helped to build a wall of ice and snow around the ship. The sides and deck are all covered with a thick layer of snow. This is supposed to keep it warmer on board. I think it has helped but it's still cool inside. We have to wear our parkas all the time except for when we go to bed, but it's a lot better than outside.

The temperature keeps dropping. Yesterday it was more than forty degrees below zero. I think back to when Michael and I were standing inside that cooler in the restaurant and how that had seemed so cold. It was practically like a summer day. There's always blowing snow and the sound of the wind whistling around the ship is as constant as the sounds of the ice creaking and moaning under our feet. It's okay that we only have a couple of hours of moonlight to work by each day because it's almost more than I can bear to stay out any more than an hour at a time. After just a few minutes you can feel your whole body start to ache. Dr. Mackay said at these temperatures exposed skin will freeze within minutes. When we're outside the only parts of us not covered by fur are our eyes. Even then we smear seal fat all over our faces for protection. I didn't want to do it at first, smear fat on my face, but without it your skin just freezes up. As it is, when the wind is blowing, which is almost all the time, bits of ice are thrown up in your face and it feels just like needles and pins.

The warmest place on the ship is the galley and I spend a great deal of my free time there. I try and sit close to the stove. The heat flows out and into my body. It feels so good just to be warm. Cookie has been working hard fixing meals. We have enough food on board to last us for the entire length of the expedition. There are giant bags and barrels and crates and a mountain of canned food of all different kinds, so we can choose almost anything we like and eat as much of it as we want. One of my favourite things, though, doesn't come from our stocks. It's polar bear steak. Other than the fish caught through the ice it's the only fresh meat we have. The men have shot five bears. They keep wandering into camp, attracted by the light. I felt sorry after I saw the first one lying there, its red blood staining the snow and ice, but when I saw it up close, those teeth and claws, I was just glad they shot it. It was a male and stretched out was almost ten feet long. Jonnie said it probably weighed more than a thousand pounds. Cookie butchered it for the meat, right there on the ice.

Captain Bartlett has ordered us all to try and gain more weight. He said it's like an extra layer of clothes to keep us warm as well as extra fuel to keep us moving. When we set off across the ice all the food and fuel we'll need has to be on our backs or on the sleds.

One of the other things that's always happening in the galley is chess. There's at least one pair of men playing and a few other boards, games in progress, sitting off to the side waiting for the players to return and finish. I've learned the game pretty well and I've played with a lot of different people. I even played the Captain once. We used his chessboard. The pieces were beautiful hand-carved ivory and felt so nice in my hand. The Captain beat me badly. When I play some of the men they go easy on me, but the Captain played to win.

I'm going to stop writing now. Mr. Hadley promised he'd have something special for us to do today.

 

I put aside my fountain pen and diary. I replaced the lid on the bottle of ink although the ink was now so thick from the cold I doubted it would spill out even if I tipped the bottle. I gathered up my outdoor clothing. Wearing trousers certainly felt strange but it was so much warmer and less cumbersome than a skirt.

The sky was clear and there was hardly any wind. The moon was high and bright and the ice reflected the light. I took a deep breath of the clean, cold air. I heard voices
coming from the other side of the ship and wandered around the deck. At first I didn't see anybody. Then, looking up, I saw my brother along with Mr. Hadley and Jonnie standing on the top of the aft cabins.

“Helen! Come on up! Climb up the ladder,” Michael called out.

I didn't want to climb anywhere but I did as he asked and soon was standing beside the three of them.

“Want to try?” Mr. Hadley asked.

“Try what?” I asked nervously, peering down at the deck below and the ice even farther down.

“Skiing,” Michael replied.

“Skiing! What do you mean skiing?”

“What do you think these are?” Michael asked, gestur ing to a pair of wooden slats attached to his feet. “Watch!” He waddled over to the side of the cabin and then dropped off the edge.

“YAHHHHOOOOO!” he screamed at the top of his lungs.

I watched him reappear on the ice below, slide across the ice and then skid to a stop. Cautiously I moved over to the edge of the cabin. There was a glistening slope of snow forming a hill from the edge of the cabin right down to the surface of the ice.

“You going to try?” Mr. Hadley asked.

“I ... don't know ... I'm not sure ... I once read a story about skiing in the Alps.”

“It's important that we do more than read about it. Everybody has to get comfortable on skis. Once we start moving we won't just be walking, but snow-shoeing and skiing as well.”

“But we won't be going down hills like this ... just sliding along the ice ... right?” I asked, looking for an escape.

“Your brother said ya'd be too scared to try it,” Jonnie laughed.

“Did he?” I replied indignantly. “What does he know? Is there another set of skis?”

“Right here,” Mr. Hadley replied.

Jonnie brought them over and placed them by my feet. He used strips of rawhide to bind them to my mukluks.

“Let me explain how it's done,” Mr. Hadley said. “It's not hard. Bend at the knees and if you think you're going to fall ... just sit down on your behind.”

I hobbled forward until the front ends of the skis were overhanging the edge of the slope. I really didn't want to do this. I turned and looked back at Jonnie. I started to lose my balance and Jonnie grabbed me by the arm.

“Helen, maybe ya shouldn't be doin' this ... I wouldn't wanna see ya gettin' yerself all banged up.”

“I won't,” I answered and hoped I was telling the truth. I pushed off. There was a rush of air and I felt my stomach rise up into my throat as I whizzed down the hill. In just seconds the slope flattened out and I slid across the ice until I came to rest right beside my brother. There were cheers from behind me and I stuck my tongue out at Michael. I turned around to take a bow and my feet got all caught up and I fell to the ice. This time even my brother joined in the cheering.

 

 

Chapter Thirteen

“I 
STILL DON'T
see why it is necessary for us to be part of this trip,” Mother protested.

“Sorry, but it's Cap'n's orders, ma'am,” Jonnie apologized. “Does ya want me ta take the matter up with 'im?”

“No,” she answered immediately. “That won't be necessary. The children would be disappointed if they couldn't go, and I wouldn't dream of letting them go without me.”

Mother was half right; Michael was excited. I would have been quite content to simply remain aboard ship rather than take a trip across the ice. The only thing which made the trip seem possible to me was that we were going out with the Captain, Kataktovick and Jonnie. They would keep us safe I was sure ... almost sure.

Our destination was an igloo a full day's travel from the ship. It was stocked with food and fuel and we'd be taking along more supplies to cache in the igloo. I knew everybody else could have been more helpful than Mother and Michael and me, but the Captain wanted all of us to have some experience on the ice before we had to finally leave.

There was often a team of dogs and men on the ice, going to and from the shelter or scouting even farther away. I still remember that terrible sense of dread when Captain Bartlett led the first team away, the sled loaded down with supplies.

I couldn't help but think of Mr. Stefansson and how he waved goodbye ... and never returned. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't wonder whether he's alive or dead, and if he is alive why he didn't come back to get us. There's still a lot of anger amongst the men about Mr. Stefansson leaving. More than a few unkind words were directed his way until the Captain put a stop to it. He said Mr. Stefansson was still the leader of the expedition and he wouldn't tolerate any disrespect or disobedience.

Michael came rushing into the cabin. “It's time to go. Everything is ready!”

“Thank you, Michael. Tell the Captain we're on our way,” said Mother.

I slipped on my parka and pulled my huge gloves from the pockets.

“Everything will be all right. There is nothing to be afraid of,” said Mother, but her voice quivered ever so slightly.

I turned to her and was shocked by the expression on her face; she looked scared. I'd been so concerned about the trip it had simply slipped my mind that Mother had hardly set foot on the ice. If this trip was worrisome for me, it must be genuinely terrifying for her.

“And if you feel afraid you don't be shy about telling me. Sometimes what you need is just to be offered a word of reassurance. Don't be embarrassed if you need me by your side ... if you need a pat on the back ... or even a hug ... don't be embarrassed ... sometimes we're all afraid,” she said.

Mother crossed the cabin and placed an arm around my shoulder. I buried my face into her chest and she squeezed
me so tight I could feel her strength beneath all the thick layers of clothing.

 

I
T WAS A CLEAR, COLD DAY
and the only wind was at our backs and helped to push us along. The ice was smooth and flat and trails had already been broken through the pressure ridges. There were three teams of seven animals. Daisy was the lead dog on the first team and was being driven by Kataktovick and Michael. Both took turns riding and pushing the sled and then moving along beside it. Mother followed in the second sled with Captain Bartlett. She'd tried her best, but it was soon obvious she couldn't keep up the pace and the Captain did most of the work. Jonnie was in charge of the third sled. I was trying not to slow us down but I realized Jonnie was making his shifts almost twice as long as mine to give me more time to rest.

Captain Bartlett raised a gloved hand and yelled for the teams to come to a stop. Almost as one the dogs flopped to the ice. I came over to the side of the sled which was away from the wind and squatted down to use it as a wind break. It was always a lot warmer out of the wind.

“Here, take this,” Captain Bartlett offered, handing me a piece of hardtack.

“No thank you, I'm not hungry.”

“I didn't ask if ya was hungry an' this wasn't a

suggestion ... it was an order. Ya have ta keep eatin' out here. It's like throwin' another log on the fire. Now eat it.”

I bit into the hardtack. It was like chewing on a frozen piece of shoe leather. Michael was helping Kataktovick
give the dogs some food and water. They exchanged a few words in Inuktituk as they worked. He'd continued to spend more and more time with the Inuit and was probably on the ice more than he was on the ship. Mr. Hadley had told me that Kataktovick had three daughters but his only son had died before he turned two. I guess he and Michael sort of helped to fill the gaps in each other.

Michael glanced my way. He smiled and his dark brown eyes flashed playfully. I was taken aback by how much he looked like Father. People were always saying how they could tell he was Father's son, but I didn't always see the resemblance. Now, when I do see it, I don't know whether it's reassuring or disturbing.

“How ya feelin', Helen?” Jonnie asked as he slumped down beside me.

“Okay, I guess. How much longer do we have to travel?”

“Little less than two hours should do it. Best be travellin' soon afore we runs outta light. Don't want ta be crossin' in the darkness.”

I stood up and brushed off the snow. A cramp gripped one of my legs and I grimaced in pain, working the leg up and down to relieve the straining muscles.

“A cramp?” asked Jonnie.

I nodded.

“Be sure ta get lots of water inta ya. Best t'ing fer cramps is water. Ya better start on the sled an' I'll take ta my skis.”

 

J
UST MINUTES BEFORE
 we reached the igloo, the wind picked up tremendously. As soon as the dogs were
securely staked outside the entrance, we took shelter where it was snug. The six of us set up our sleeping areas squeezed together in the igloo. I made my bed atop two large wooden crates which contained packages and cans of food that had been brought earlier by other teams. As well as the food there were extra blankets and canisters of kerosene and alcohol. The smell of the kerosene filled the space and made it seem even smaller.

When the lantern was extinguished, the igloo was thrown into complete darkness. I held up my hand and couldn't even make out its outline. I was suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of fear. I knew there were six of us all crammed together inside the shelter, but I felt completely alone. I listened for the sound of breathing, because it had always been reassuring in the cabin to hear Michael and Mother beside me at night. I couldn't hear anything except the sound of the wind. I felt my stomach start to crowd up into my throat and a sense of panic began to overtake me. My lower lip started to quiver and I bit down on it hard to stop myself from calling out. I knew I wasn't alone ... I knew it would be okay ... or did I? We were alone on the ice, separated from safety by hundreds of miles of shifting ice and open sea.