Once Ellsworth found the quiet determination to go on, in the face of the setbacks and the sniggering, he penned his own press release then had his publicist, Harry Bruno, send it to the newspapers:
The far horizon! [Ellsworth wrote] How infinitely distant it really proves to be. What a lure to lead the traveler on into regions unknown in a quest for new knowledge concerning the planet upon which we dwell. Out of man’s yearning for light and still more light, has come the civilization we live in. And the call of the wild, thank God, is still in the blood, for so long as the human ear loves to hear the pound of the deep sea surf upon lonely coastlines and the human eye watch the play of the Northern Lights across desolate snow-fields—so long then will the great unknown lure him on till the whole of it vanishes.1
Preparing to seek, once again, refuge in the great unknown, Ellsworth went hiking by himself in the Swiss Alps and instructed Wilkins to organize the third Ellsworth Trans-Antarctic Expedition.
“I am doing my best to persuade Lincoln not to go on,”2 Wilkins had informed his wife from Montevideo a month earlier, but in truth he, like Ellsworth, had no other options. No wife promising a contented family life calling him home. No other horizon with unknown land on the far side, ready to offer up its secrets to the explorer. Only Antarctica was left. The thing had to be done now.
For the weary Wilkins, the plan would remain unchanged from the second expedition. He would load the Polar Star on the Wyatt Earp, sail down to Graham Land, get Ellsworth and a pilot airborne and heading toward Little America, then sail the ship around to the Ross Ice Shelf to pick them up.
Wilkins asked Balchen if he would be willing to make a third attempt and the answer was an emphatic “no.” After the second expedition Balchen had collected his wife and child and sailed to Norway for a vacation. Wilkins rued Balchen’s decision because, as he pointed out, “there is no man more capable of doing it if he sets out.”3 Wilkins’s other consideration was that Little America was now abandoned. Byrd’s expedition had packed up and returned home during the southern summer. There would be no one to send weather reports from the other side of the continent and no one to lay markers on the ground indicating safe landing places. Additionally, if they managed to reach Little America and land safely, Ellsworth and his yet-to-be-found pilot would need to survive alone in the abandoned base, while the Wyatt Earp came to collect them. Allowing for the voyage across the Southern Ocean and negotiating the pack ice extending from the Ross Ice Shelf, Wilkins estimated the fliers would need to survive at Little America for a minimum of six weeks.
Because of that, Wilkins needed to know exactly what, in terms of fuel and food, was still at Little America. He wrote to Byrd, who was busy touring and speaking about his recent near-death experience at Advance Base. Byrd generously volunteered particulars, pointing out that, “as the information you may get from other sources in regard to what is at Little America may be inaccurate, I thought it would be of value to you to know just what is there.” Then one of Byrd’s crew, Alan Innes Taylor, added a detailed map of Little America, describing where drums of fuel, food, and other supplies were located. Innes Taylor concluded his accompanying letter by saying:
In the tunnels of the main section of the camp you will find some food. The radio hut and the hut just south of it, in which I lived, you will probably find in the best condition. The others, I fear, will be caved in by the time you get there.4
The Wyatt Earp spent the southern winter at Montevideo. Of the four members of the original crew, Magnus Olsen was promoted to captain, Lauritz Liavaag was promoted to first mate, while engineer Harald Holmboe and cabin boy Bjarne Larsen kept their positions. Wilkins sought replacements for the others.
He also turned his attention to the issue of a pilot. Ellsworth wanted two men capable of flying the Polar Star on this trip. If one refused to fly, or turned back as Balchen had done, he wanted another ready to climb into the cockpit. Wilkins sought advice from his old Arctic mentor, Vilhjalmur Stefansson, who recommended he advertise among the pilots of Canadian Airways. Of the applicants, Wilkins selected Herbert Hollick-Kenyon and James (Joe) Lymburner.
Hollick-Kenyon was born in England in 1897. He was a big, barrel-chested, pipe-smoking pilot who had learned to fly during World War I and had emigrated to Canada afterward. He had over six thousand flying hours in a variety of planes, a liking for scotch whisky, and a reputation for not suffering fools. He had limited navigation experience, but wrote on his application that he had read the theory of the bubble sextant and didn’t think that using one would present any difficulty.
Joe Lymburner, a thin laconic Canadian, had fewer flying hours (1,600), but he was a competent mechanic. As Chris Braathen would not be returning this year, Lymburner could act as the reserve pilot and also be in charge of the Polar Star’s engine.
Hollick-Kenyon and Lymburner arrived in Montevideo. Wilkins proposed they each fly the plane to familiarize themselves with its capabilities, pointing out, “It is a lot of trouble and expense, but safer to have the pilots fly it here than smash it up down there [in Antarctica].”5
Unfortunately, during the first test flight the engine cut out and Hollick-Kenyon landed heavily, tearing a hole in the underside of the starboard wing. The repairs took two weeks and used up any time available for further test flights. Consequently, the pilots would have to sail to Antarctica unfamiliar with the Polar Star and relying on Balchen’s description of its speed and fuel consumption.
At the end of his stay at the castle, Ellsworth took the Graf Zeppelin, which had begun making regular passenger flights between Germany and Brazil, to Rio de Janeiro. On arrival, he learned the Polar Star was being repaired and rather than wait, he went tiger hunting in the jungles of Brazil. He emerged from the hunt a week later and sailed to Montevideo, where he met his pilots and new crew members. Radio operator Walter Lanz was the only American to return from the previous expedition. He was joined by three fellow Americans and four new Norwegians. With Ellsworth, Wilkins and the two pilots, the Wyatt Earp had a complement of sixteen. Captain Magnus Olsen noted that the multinational crew meant “there was much less camaraderie than we had enjoyed during the previous two years.” He also noted it was agreed:
. . . we Norwegians would be entirely responsible for the ship, but would assist where necessary in taking equipment ashore. Regarding the plane, our responsibility would be confined to hoisting it from the hold and onto the barrier, thereafter it was to be handed over to Mr. Hollick-Kenyon and his companions.6
Still not wanting to spend any more time onboard the Wyatt Earp than was absolutely necessary, Ellsworth instructed Wilkins to sail it to Magallanes because, having completed his tiger hunt, he now wanted to go mountain climbing in Mendoza, 730 miles inland. The Wyatt Earp left Montevideo, without Ellsworth, on October 17, 1935.
Ellsworth returned from his climbing and, while waiting for a passenger ship to take him to Magallanes, took it upon himself to send a telegram to Byrd asking about the supplies at Little America. Despite the pressures of his schedule, Byrd replied immediately with a letter dated October 20, but, for reasons unknown, it was not posted until October 26. In the letter Byrd again explained the location of the drums of fuel and other supplies, as Innes Taylor had previously explained to Wilkins. Quite justifiably, Byrd added:
Since I am lecturing, twice a day, in a different city every day, I am greatly handicapped and will have to ask my supply officer where the other supplies are. I will have to radio you the disposition of the other supplies.7
When he did not receive the response immediately, Ellsworth grumpily told the press that despite a personal request, Byrd had not been forthcoming with information about the supplies at Little America and that Byrd’s unhelpfulness was seriously jeopardizing his safety. After further bad-mouthing Byrd, Ellsworth sailed to Magallanes, where he was reunited with his expedition, yet still unaware that Wilkins already had the information regarding supplies at Little America. “We picked up the last letters that could reach us before we emerged from the Antarctic,” Ellsworth complained in a local newspaper. “Still no word from Byrd.”8
The Wyatt Earp sailed on October 28, and Byrd’s repetitious letter arrived at Magallanes two days later.
The trip south to Deception Island took five days. There the expedition found the harbor blocked by heavy pack ice, blown together by a westerly gale, so it was another two days before they could break through to the abandoned whaling station, where the Polar Star was assembled. With thin harbor ice, and the rocky ground already exposed, Wilkins decided not to waste time. On November 11, they sailed for the Weddell Sea.
On their previous trip they had sailed past Dundee Island, which was farther north. Unlike Snow Hill Island, which was surrounded by the treacherous Weddell Sea ice pack, Dundee Island was enclosed by a half-mile hem of shelf ice that was solid to the shore, effectively offering the Wyatt Earp somewhere to tie up. Wilkins and Ellsworth disembarked and found the ideal flying base. There were long, sweeping flat sections of hard snow. (Neither Wilkins nor Ellsworth offered any explanation as to why they did not consider the island the previous year.)
The expedition set up a base at the northwestern end of Dundee Island. Here the lack of camaraderie among the crew, which Olsen had noted, brought the expedition to a temporary halt. The Norwegians lifted the fuselage and wings onto the ice, then dragged them to solid ground. The American crew took over, hauling the components to a location where the Polar Star could be assembled for the flight. Later that morning Olsen, with some of the other Norwegians, skied to the base camp to find:
To our utter astonishment . . . instead of witnessing a scene of activity, we saw the three plane mechanics cowering under tarpaulins, heating themselves with two of the blowers that were intended to heat the engine of the plane. It was not our business to interfere, and we Norwegians returned to the ship.9
The Americans, who according to Olsen had “given priority to maintaining a smart appearance,” and therefore were not properly dressed for “the cruel conditions of the Antarctic,”10 refused to do any further work until the Norwegians assisted. The Norwegians, in turn, refused to extend their responsibilities beyond the immediate vicinity of the ship. Olsen recalled that work came to a stop and a meeting of all parties was called. The upshot was that the Norwegians would agree to help the shore party but they would do so only on the condition that:
Our instructions were to come from Sir Hubert himself and from no one else. Sir Hubert gave his word on that, and called the base crew to the ship to explain everything to them in our presence.11
To what extent Ellsworth was involved in the discussions, or had been a cause of the disagreement, is unclear. In the two chapters of Olsen’s book that describe the voyage of the Wyatt Earp to Dundee Island and the preparation of the Polar Star, Ellsworth is not mentioned, while Wilkins is constantly referred to as the “leader” of the expedition.
With the Polar Star eventually assembled, the motor was carefully checked and Hollick-Kenyon took the plane for a successful test flight. The weather remained clear. Everything appeared ready for the flight across the continent.