Chapter Three

ONE GIGANTIC HOLIDAY

*

This trip is going to be one gigantic holiday and although it will be cold weather, we have all sorts and kinds of clothes to keep us warm, also good lighting apparatus to light up the long winter which lasts four months and during that time we never see the sun, but then we have about seven months of the year which is always daylight — no night at all. That will be great fun and we will hardly know when to go to bed.

Wilkins’ letter to his parents, June 19131

Wilkins continued working as a cinematographer in London, and Leon Gaumont soon made good on his promise to involve him in the development of colour cinematography. The Cadbury Chocolate Company had commissioned Gaumont to make a colour film about harvesting the cocoa plant, so Wilkins was despatched to the Caribbean island of Trinidad, where he found life a refreshing change from the death and disease of the Balkans.

On the voyage back from the West Indies, Wilkins received a radiogram from Gaumont asking if he would accompany an expedition to the Arctic for two — or possibly three — years. The chance of further notoriety and the opportunity to take his camera to the Arctic was too tempting to resist. Wilkins immediately sent a reply accepting the offer. The Arctic sounded like another adventure for the diligent young man.

In London, Wilkins learnt that the leader of the expedition was Vilhjalmur Stefansson, an explorer with controversial theories. Stefansson believed a man armed with a rifle, a knife, and the right training could live indefinitely in what he described as the ‘Friendly Arctic’. He was determined to show that survival in the Arctic was not only possible, but that the area could one day become a centre of civilisation. ‘Man as an animal is, indeed, a tropical animal’, Stefansson wrote loftily, but ‘his fight upward in civilisation has coincided in part at least with his march northward over the Earth into cooler, clearer, more bracing air.’2

Not everyone agreed that the Arctic could sustain small expeditions, let alone an entire civilisation. To challenge his critics, Stefansson consciously went out of his way not to prepare his expeditions. He expected his team to simply sail north, dressed as if they had stepped from a comfortable home in London or New York and that, once in the Arctic, he would teach them how to survive. He also hoped to find a race of ‘Blonde Eskimos’ of European descent living in the Arctic.

Stefansson had pitched his idea of exploring the Arctic to the Canadian government, and convinced it that Canada should claim what territory it could in the Arctic before the Americans — or, worse, the Russians — did. The government had agreed on condition that the expedition be staffed by men from the British Commonwealth, of which Canada was a member. Initially, Stefansson had difficulty in finding volunteers among the universities of Canada, where young men had some knowledge of the dangers that lay to their north, so he had gone to London to recruit volunteers. While there, he asked Gaumont if they had a photographer from a Commonwealth country who might want to spend two or three years in the Arctic. Gaumont had the ideal candidate. Wilkins was excited at the prospect, telling his family that the expedition was an ideal means of gaining fame:

Three years is a long time to spend from civilisation, especially if one expects to be climbing the ladder of fame and fortune just as we reach the age that I am now. Well one does not get the opportunity to join an expedition to the polar regions every day of the week and although they have been numerous, there is still a spice of adventure left in the work, especially with this one where we expect to find not a new race of people, but a section of a race, a few tribes as yet uncontaminated by contact with even the most primitive civilisation.

As far as fame is concerned, I believe I will receive more notice on account of accompanying the expedition than by any amount I could do in cinematography for three years in London.3

With his cameras and film, Wilkins arrived at Victoria, British Columbia, on 1 June 1913, where he met the other members of the expedition. Not all of them were as enthusiastic as he was. William Laird McKinlay, a serious-minded teacher of mathematics from Glasgow, had accepted the position of magnetician, but had been notified he was to also fulfil the role of meteorologist. McKinlay felt, ‘It was the first of many hints I was to receive as the weeks went by that not everyone shared the faith of … popular Canadian newspaper writers in the suitability of Stefansson as an expedition leader.’4 Others were equally confused about their roles and responsibilities.

Stefansson eventually arrived three days before the planned sailing date. He had decided at the last minute that the expedition ship, Karluk, was not big enough for all the equipment, and had been delayed while he purchased a second ship, Alaska.

On 17 June, the expedition set sail, amid mutterings of concern, for Nome, Alaska. Two days out, Wilkins demonstrated his willingness to take on responsibility and his eagerness to learn. He wrote to his parents:

We had a concert last night and started a newspaper, for which I am star reporter. That is, I report on all matters relating to doings on board ship and collect and condense all scientific reports … It has been extremely interesting so far associating with all these scientific men.5

The Karluk chugged north at a miserable five knots, and took almost a month to reach Nome, where Stefansson went ashore and purchased a third ship, the Mary Sachs, and more supplies. By this time, the scientists, fed up with the haphazard manner in which their equipment was being loaded on three different ships, along with Stefansson’s aloofness, called a meeting and demanded to know what was going on. Stefansson explained that he expected the three ships to sail north through the Bering Strait and then east, across the top of Alaska. Once past the demarcation line between Canada and Alaska, the ships would rendezvous at Herschel Island, in the Beaufort Sea. There, Stefansson elaborated, the expedition would divide into two groups. Dr Rudolph Anderson, a down-to-earth zoologist, and in many ways the antithesis of Stefansson, would lead the Southern Party to explore the Coronation Gulf. The Northern Party, led by Stefansson, would sail north to explore the unknown islands and, hopefully, find the legendary Blonde Eskimos. Stefansson’s plan for Wilkins was that he would spend the first year filming and photographing the Southern Party, and then travel north to locate the Northern Party and do the same.

The Karluk, with Wilkins on board, left Nome and sailed through the Bering Strait and into the Chukchi Sea. By coincidence, Wilkins was penning a letter to his parents when the polar pack ice was sighted. ‘The second mate has just come in and reported ice off the port bow. I must go and see it’, he scribbled hastily. Then he dashed up on deck before returning to continue:

I have seen the ice. It is still a long way off, but looks like a lot of rugged peaks around the horizon. We will soon be up to it and I will know more about it. They say it is pack ice. We will see any amount of it before long I expect, and also snow.6

The Karluk continued east, stopping at the small settlement of Barrow, from where Wilkins mailed an hour of exposed film to Gaumont in London.

The ship briefly continued its journey before becoming stuck fast in the ice. After a month, it became apparent that the Karluk was going nowhere, at least not until the ice melted in spring. Stefansson announced he would leave the Karluk and, with a small group, walk across the ice to land.

Stefansson’s party, which included Wilkins, Burt McConnell (secretary), and Diamond Jenness (ethnographer), left the Karluk on 20 September. Wilkins filmed the departure before handing his motion-picture camera back to someone on the ship. He only carried a Kodak still camera and a few rolls of film. In all, he left three motion-picture cameras, several still cameras, accessories, a large quantity of film, and his personal diaries on the ship.

It was known at the time that ships trapped in the ice in that location drifted west, often ending up being crushed by the polar pack ice. Wilkins suspected the same fate lay in store for the Karluk, explaining to his parents, ‘I have written several [letters] which doubtless you will never get, for they are on the Karluk and we may not see her again.’ As it turned out, the Karluk drifted west and sank north of Russia. Eleven people died before the rest struggled to reach land and were rescued.

Stefansson’s party travelled south, across the ice, taking a week to reach land. During that time, Wilkins demonstrated the same adaptability that he had shown in the Balkans, a year previously. In fact, the diary that he commenced when he left the ship reveals an enthusiasm for the conditions. He learnt to care for his newly issued Arctic clothing, hunt for food, erect a tent on ice, and generally survive in the extreme environment. He even took to the Eskimo diet, telling his parents:

We visited several Eskimo families on our way, from whom we obtained food, and it was with our first meal with these people that we partook of the considerable delicacies of this interesting race of people. There was raw fish frozen solid, dried reindeer meat and raw and rancid seal oil that had been stored in a bag [made of] seal hide for over twelve months. Then as dessert, raw caul fat of the reindeer. [Caul is a membrane covering the intestine.] This was indeed a luxury. I have since eaten raw frozen fish several times and now quite enjoy it.7

Having reached the shore, Stefansson’s questionable decision-making continued. He sent the inexperienced Wilkins, McConnell, and Jenness to look for the other expedition ships, while he waited behind. Perhaps having already noticed the leadership qualities of Wilkins, Stefansson took the unusual step of putting him in charge of the group. Wilkins explained to his parents:

We start out again on the trail tomorrow — or rather some of us do. Mr Stefansson stays behind for a week or so and I am in charge of the party as far as Harrison Bay [where we will] wait for him. Every other time when he has gone off for the day, he has given me instructions as to what the Eskimos have to do, but this time he has put me in charge of the party by an official letter.8

Wilkins led his small party east before returning, unable to find news of the other ships. When it was learnt that the crews of Mary Sachs and Alaska were wintering at Collinson Point, 320 kilometres east, Stefansson, Wilkins, and the others trekked there. On their arrival, a confrontation took place between Stefansson and Anderson, the leader of the Southern Party. Authority within the expedition had always been unclear. From the outset there had been two distinct groups, the Northern and the Southern Party, and each had their individual sponsors. But Stefansson believed he was in overall command, and now, having lost most of his men, his ship, and his supplies, felt he had the authority to commandeer what he wanted from the Southern Party. Anderson disagreed. A heated argument ensued. Wilkins’ diary indicates that his loyalties lay with Anderson:

Mr Stefansson explained at length that he was the leader of the whole expedition … We others of the Southern Party recognise Dr Anderson as the executive head of the Southern Party and receive orders from him. Stefansson was a little put out to find that the desires that he had expressed in a letter had not been complied with before he himself returned.9

Perhaps, in Wilkins, Stefansson saw the makings of an explorer. Perhaps, feeling the tide of opinion flowing against him, Stefansson wanted to get the young Australian on his side. Whatever the reason, Stefansson was astute enough to realise that the way to get Wilkins to respond positively was to appeal to his sense of duty and adventure. In the days following the showdown between Stefansson and Anderson, Stefansson offered Wilkins the opportunity to travel with the Northern Party. It would be a trip into the unknown and not, as the Southern Party was intending, a trip investigating previously explored territory. Stefansson hinted at more authority for Wilkins, and promised to teach him how to navigate. For Wilkins, who was always eager to prove himself, learning new skills and being given added responsibility was irresistible. He agreed to go with Stefansson.

It was a short journey for Wilkins. After five days on the ice, he became separated from Stefansson and returned to Collinson Point. With time on his hands, he travelled west, back along the coast, as far as Point Barrow. He purchased a second-hand cinematograph, then filmed and photographed Eskimo life, before returning to Collinson Point in June 1914.

Wilkins had been in the Arctic for a year. So far, it had been nothing but a disorganised shambles because of Stefansson’s unpredictable decisions and high-handed leadership. In his diary, Wilkins expressed a desire to leave the expedition and return to London, but waiting for him at Collinson Point was a message that would change the direction of his life. Stefansson’s group had reached Banks Island to the north and sent back a letter, dated 6 April, addressed to Wilkins. Stefansson explained that he and the others intended to stay on Banks Island for two years:

I want therefore to ask you to take command of the North Star, with Mr Castel and some other suitable man that could be engaged. She should be equipped with engine-room supplies and staple foods for two years at least, most of which can be made up from the outfit she now has and the engine rooms of the two boats Alaska and [Mary] Sachs. She should make her way at the first opportunity to the west coast of Banks Island … If you can get Billy Natkusiak and an Eskimo family — preferably one with a good woman and a few children — they should be taken too.

I am writing Dr Anderson regarding this. Make the best arrangements you can and you may be sure they will meet with my approval.10

It was remarkable that, of the men at Collinson Point — all members paid by the expedition sponsors — Stefansson should choose Wilkins to bring him supplies. But in the time he had known Wilkins, Stefansson, like Bernard Grant in the Balkans, had seen something extraordinary in him. Stefansson added in his letter, ‘I have seen enough of you already to have confidence both in your judgement and good faith.’ And knowing that Wilkins was paid by Gaumont added, ‘If that should be a consideration, I should be glad to put you on the payroll of the expedition.’11

Stefansson included a further enticement, pointing out that the opportunity to film or photograph the Blonde Eskimos would be greater if Wilkins went north, rather than with the Southern Party. Wilkins felt the weight of responsibility resting on his shoulders, and wrote in his diary:

This is an exceptional opportunity for me, but I would rather be without it. I joined the expedition as photographer and it is as photographer that I wish to make a reputation if any, not as leader of a relief party or navigator. I certainly feel proud of the fact that he has sufficient confidence in me to allow me to make my own arrangements, but the statement of this fact was not necessary to persuade me to do my best under all circumstances.12

To the south lay warmth, comfort, a secure career in cinematography, and the opportunity to return home. To the north lay adventure, hardship, and uncertainty. For Wilkins, that was irresistible. He put his misgivings aside, and decided to follow Stefansson into the unknown.

Wilkins instructions were to travel east, along the coast, to Clarence Lagoon, just past the US-Canadian border, where he would find a 10-ton schooner, the North Star, beached. Stefansson had seen it and had purchased it six months earlier. Wilkins was to sail it to Herschel Island, load it with supplies, and then take it north to Banks Island, where he could expect to meet Stefansson’s party.

Wilkins reached Clarence Lagoon on 14 June 1914, and found the North Star, ‘a trim-looking little craft — the best looking of those that belong to the expedition’.13

He also found Burt McConnell, Stefansson’s secretary, living on board, along with other members of the Southern Party. When Wilkins chose to set up his tent, rather than live on the ship with the others, McConnell noted in his diary:

I may be doing him an injustice in thinking so, but there is no doubt in my mind that a change has come over him since last I saw him. I rather think [Wilkins] believes that a commander should not sleep with his men … of course, it won’t matter at all unless he goes to ordering me about, in which case I should tell him that I am not under his orders.14

While McConnell was observing the change in Wilkins, events in Europe were spiralling out of control.