A Harnessing of Speed and Strength
December 1910 began with a scare on board the Norwegian Antarctic Expedition’s Polar ship Fram – Roald Amundsen’s crew thought they were in shallow water (Amundsen Expedition Diary). But, to their “great relief,” 1 a second measurement taken showed that they were in 400 meters and that the changed water color they had observed, which they had presumed signified a shallower depth, must have been from sea ice present.
Ice was a sign of the ship’s nearing proximity to the White Continent. And so, with the relief of being safe, and being closer to their destination, came a serious undertaking of preparations for reaching Antarctica and for initiating the desired expedition over the Antarctic ice. December would be devoted to this task, second only to the task of keeping the 117 dogs safe and healthy.
The dogs were valiantly withstanding the wild waves that would invade the vessel and the consistently wet conditions prevalent on board the ship. These conditions were a constant danger to the dogs, who suffered damaged paws and loss of fur, as well as potential internal illness.
To help shelter the dogs from the elements, at least minimally, Amundsen had allowed the dogs to invade the chart house, which by now became the primary residence for at least 20 of the dogs – most of whom were weak or ill. This location came to be known as the “1st place,” 2 according to veteran Polar explorer Hjalmar Johansen (Johansen Expedition Diary). The “2nd place,” according to Johansen, was the larger, covered kennel area located on the port side at the stern of the ship – this was composed of empty coal bins that had been set up the previous month and that had been described by first mate Hjalmar Fredrik Gjertsen as a popular spot for the dogs. Many dogs took shelter there. The smaller puppies, too, during this month of December, were given their own special housing – they were removed from their mothers and grouped together, residing in an enclosure within the 2nd place during the night and in the chart house during the day (Hassel 2011). According to dog expert Sverre Hassel, these smaller puppies – who numbered as 17 of the 24 puppies born on the ship – were taken care of by Lt. Thorvald Nilsen, the second-in-command. In the two men’s diaries, Hassel vigorously complained of the dogs’ and puppies’ sullying the chart house with their elimination of waste, and Gjertsen humorously referred to the dogs’ complete disregard for the charts, books, instruments, and navigational equipment in the chart house. The fact remained, however, that the dogs desperately needed these newly assigned shelters to remain healthy and alive on board the ship. For Amundsen had ambitious plans for these sled dogs, once the ship met the ice.
“I have today chosen the [individuals] for the overwintering party,” wrote Amundsen on the first day of the last month of the year 1910. 3 Kristian Prestrud, Hjalmar Johansen, Sverre Hassel, Adolf Lindstrøm, Helmer Hanssen, Oscar Wisting, Olav Bjaaland, and Jørgen Stubberud would accompany Amundsen on the ice. These nine expedition members, together with all the dogs, would make up the wintering and South Pole party. Lt. Thorvald Nilsen would take command of the ship, assisted by Lt. Hjalmar Fredrik Gjertsen, and they, along with the remaining eight crewmembers – Andreas Beck, Martin Rønne, Ludvik (Ludvig) Hansen, Halvardus Kristensen, Alexander Kutschin, Karinius (Karenius) Olsen, Jakob (Jacob) Nødtvedt, and Knut Sundbeck, would take the Polar vessel northward to Buenos Aires, returning in January or February of 1912 to retrieve the wintering party (Rønne 2011). Amundsen also decided, on that day, to give his men a raise, increasing each member’s pay by 50 percent. This was appropriate, he felt, in that these men had families and had given up all other income to accompany him on this excursion, and he did not want them to arrive in Buenos Aires with no financial resources and no means of support (Amundsen Expedition Diary). This money situation would become clearer, however, particularly to Lt. Nilsen, once the Fram had deposited the landing party in Antarctica and sailed back to Buenos Aires for the winter. If not for their expatriate in Argentina – Don Pedro Christophersen – the Norwegian crew and ship would have had nothing awaiting them in Buenos Aires.
On the day following Amundsen’s decision regarding the wintering party – December 2, the Fram passed 80° (Amundsen Expedition Diary). It was a stormy day with high waves, and Amundsen spent the afternoon filming the giant waves and the feeding of the sled dogs (Gjertsen 2011). The dogs themselves were thoroughly thrashed that day, being pounded by the waves and the rough seas (Rønne 2011). For water, they drank out of the rusted petroleum tanks, where the rainwater had turned into a brownish-red-hued liquid that, according to Gjertsen, looked like tomato sauce (Gjertsen 2011). They were still being rationed water. Fortunately, on the next day, Amundsen was delighted and surprised to find that the ship actually had 15 tons of water, not 12 as previously thought. The dogs were, thus, lucky. Beginning on December 4, however, they received even less water – rather than 2 l every day, they now received 2 liters every second day, alternating with 1 l on the other days; Amundsen claimed that they now did not need or drink as much water and that the alternating days were a good way to conserve the water (Amundsen Expedition Diary). In his mind, his risky gamble to forgo stopping for water had paid off – he had gained water and lost no travel time.
On December 5, in calmer waters, Fram passed 90° and was racing to the east toward Antarctica, according to Amundsen. The ship was taking the waves well, reported Nilsen (2011), who was especially grateful for this smoother ride on account of the dogs, whom he did not want to see further battered. Nilsen was devising a work schedule for the landing at the ice barrier, and Amundsen was drawing up the plans for the camp and compound in Antarctica, including the men’s living arrangements and residential quarters, the supplies and provisions storage areas, and dog tents that would serve as the dog houses on the ice (Amundsen Expedition Diary). Yet, even while tending to the ship’s business and the landing preparations, Nilsen meanwhile still did not take his eyes off of caring for the puppies. He was appreciated by Amundsen, who wrote on December 6 that “N. [Nilsen] is now foster father to 16 small puppies,” 4 most likely referring to the youngest puppies who were being housed in the “2nd place.” As a result of Nilsen’s caring and consideration, said Amundsen, the puppies were growing each day and developing nicely. The dogs, too, were “coming along excellently. They all look like little pigs,” 5 wrote Amundsen on the following day.
Martin Rønne (2011) painted an even more detailed picture of Nilsen tending to the puppies during these first several days of December, describing him as arriving at the dog kennels at the stern of the ship with a food-filled enamel pail and ladle in hand, seating himself at a perch on top of one of the dog houses, and immediately being surrounded by 23 puppies, who, as soon as they spotted the bucket, would crawl all over him in anticipation of the food. The roof of the dog kennels had become his domain, and the puppies there were his disciples, whom he fed and looked after very well. Meanwhile, the dogs in the chart house cohabitated with Rønne, who used the instrument room as his work headquarters to sew tents and other necessary equipment. He would find himself being surrounded by 20 dogs huddled closely together against him as he worked. Yet he would continue to make steady progress, he said, keeping one foot on the sewing machine pedal, while using the other foot to kick away the doggie-beasts. At times, among the loud barking and pressing of furry bodies, Rønne would hem himself into a corner with his sewing machine. The chart house was both a refuge for the dogs and a hospital for those few infirm dogs, who included Vulcanus, Dødsengelen (“The Angel of Death”), Liket (“The Corpse”), Mikkel, and Hans. Rønne described Nilsen entering the chart house each morning with a large pot and ladle to feed those invalids, who howled with pure joy as they ate their meal.
On December 6, Rønne (2011) proudly participated in another photo session with the dogs on board the ship and recorded it in his diary. On this same day, the Fram was drawing closer to its destination. The number of whales spouting in the vicinity of the ship was growing noticeably – two whales had been sighted on November 28 (Amundsen Expedition Diary). By December 8, the ship had passed the 100° mark. The weather had improved, and both the men and the dogs were enjoying the clear day (Amundsen Expedition Diary; Nilsen 2011). Amundsen reported in his diary that the Fram was making quick time. He was nothing if not extremely careful, and he made preparations now for meeting any icebergs in the water, which he calculated they would see any day now. For this purpose, he assigned the ice pilots and experienced crewmembers to serve as lookouts for ice along the way – Andreas Beck and Ludvik (Ludvig) Hansen took the first watch, while Helmer Hanssen and Oscar Wisting took the second.
The fur, reindeer-skin, and sealskin clothing was taken out of storage on December 9 and packed for transportation onto the ice when the ship had landed (Amundsen Expedition Diary). Nilsen describes the sled dogs as attentively sniffing the sealskin outfits, and happily wagging their tails, no doubt remembering their homes in Greenland (Nilsen 2011). It was a happy moment on the ship. The clear weather gave way to rain again on the 10th, however, and it rained down buckets of water on the captive dogs, bringing to them sheer misery once more. They would attempt to fall asleep standing up, reported Amundsen, rather than lie down to rest on the wet deck.
By the 11th, the Fram was following the route Amundsen had mapped out for the ship: continuing along the 50th parallel to 150°, then turning, and heading toward the ice at 170° to 180°. Amundsen had decreed that, once on the ice, the sled dogs would be put into full use, and when not being employed, they would be cared for by Hjalmar Johansen and Sverre Hassel (Gjertsen 2011). The crew was now preparing for the landing and tending to their precious cargo. On this same day, Hjalmar Johansen wrote about the importance and the challenge of taking care of the sled dogs. While 4 of the adult dogs had been lost, he said, due to illness and falling overboard, the 24 puppies they had at the moment were “strong” and “viable.” 6 The seawater had not been good for the dogs, many of the dogs’ feet were hurt, and their fur had fallen off “in big tufts right to the skin,” but most of the dogs had “recovered” by now and had “gotten thicker pelts” of fur. Johansen was the most experienced Polar explorer of the crewmembers on board and analyzed the situation critically. “The dogs are of course the most important [thing] for us,” he wrote. “The outcome of the expedition depends on them.”
Indeed, the dogs were the most important element for the crew. And in the midst of preparing for landing, confirming the route to the ice, and looking out for icebergs, Amundsen still managed to closely observe and write about the dogs, not just as the keys to his future success but also as an endless source of interest and amusement for him. “The Eskimo dogs are strangely wise,” 7 he wrote on December 12, devoting most of his diary entry that day to writing about the sled dogs’ fine intellect. In this entry, he describes how the dogs had very quickly learned to vacate the bridge at 6:00 in the morning for cleaning and then return to the bridge at 8:00 am at the sound of the eight bells. Similarly, they had learned that 8:00 pm meant feeding time, and so, at the strike of eight bells in the evening, they would howl and happily vocalize in delightful anticipation of the food. Amundsen also jokingly refers to the fact that the dogs’ names included “Peary and –––––––––––– [i.e., wait-for-it] Cook.” This ironic statement – a little bit of self-humor by Amundsen – is a reminder that the claiming of the North Pole, by those two American explorers, was the reason for this secret South Pole journey. The dogs Peary and Cook, to whom he refers, belonged to Kristian Prestrud and later to Hjalmar Johansen.
The dogs’ intellect was a subject for Gjertsen as well, who described, in mid-December, how the dogs attempted to overcome yet another challenge relating to receiving enough drinking water. On a day when conditions were too windy to stretch the sun sails for collection of rainwater, the dogs stood at the base of the mast, and along the rails, waiting for the water to slide down and licking the water drop by drop as it came.
As the lookout for icebergs intensified, the dogs took part in this, as well. On the 13th, Amundsen ordered the machinists in the engine room to also keep watch for ice and to be ready to fire up the engine in case any quick maneuvers were required (Amundsen Expedition Diary). Rønne (2011) observed that the dogs, too, gathered into groups and all stood along the deck, contemplating the ice on the water, the unearthed sealskin clothing, and the activity on the ship, and pondering their future and their fates.
On the following day, the Fram managed to speed along up to nine knots and took the sea’s swells in stride (Amundsen Expedition Diary). The Antarctic was indeed drawing nearer. But the rainy weather was still tormenting the dogs. Hassel (2011) wrote on the 15th that those dogs who could not manage to squeeze into the chart house (1st place), or take refuge in the kennel house at the stern (2nd place), were forced to congregate mid-ship at the bottom of the steps to the bridge, or on the poop deck, and stand with their legs immersed in the slough of water that washed over the rails and across the deck. They would stand in this position all day and all night. This uncomfortable situation caused them to be irate, and, therefore, if two neighboring dogs accidently bumped into each other, they would fly into a wild rage, in turn causing the men on watch to beat them as further punishment. Hassel observed that some of the standing dogs were so exhausted that they almost fell asleep standing. The situation was unpleasant for the dogs. Like humans, some dogs had a skill and a knack for taking advantage of an opportunity, as did those dogs who landed a spot in the chart house or the kennel house. But, for the rest of the unfortunate dogs, they had to endure the torture of standing in the standing water that engulfed the exterior of the ship.
They are lying [in the charthouse] as in one single jumble with their heads poking out, and when the ship rolls over, the entire mass moves as one. Then the fights start, and one sees the teeth glisten over there in the jumble, as each of the dogs believes it is the next dog that is pushing when the ship heaves, and never are there as many fights as when the ship is heaving quite a lot.
As intelligent as the dogs are in many ways, the [ship’s] rolling they cannot understand in any other way than that, they believe, it is some devilry from the dog standing by their side, which therefore of course deserves a hiding. They will usually come to some agreement, when there is a common threat; for example, out on the ice, in a blizzard, I have seen friend and foe pull tightly together for the common good.
There was one exception, however, to the dogs’ attempts to work together, and that was Jakob, the “cannibal” who had helped himself to two of Kaisa’s puppies. Since committing those transgressions, he had been tied up permanently on deck, and now was chained up in the kennel house at the stern of the ship, called the “2nd place,” which also housed the puppies at night. Sometime between the 16th and the 17th, Jakob claimed another puppy’s life. It happened just as the ship had come out of the Roaring Forties and was on its way to passing 51° south latitude. Amundsen described the sad event in his diary, stating that a 2-month-old puppy – one of the smallest youngsters on board – had innocently approached “the cannibal Jacop [sic]” and was immediately shredded to bits; in turn, “Jakop got a beating.” 9 Johansen shed further light on this incident, explaining that “The puppy had fallen down to the murderer, as we call this otherwise outstanding sled dog that is constantly tied up at the so-called 2nd place,” and adding the fact that Jakob “was just about beaten to death by Nilsen” as a result of his crime. 10 Nilsen himself was furious, and just about roared and raged in his diary, calling Jakob the worst name he could possibly manage and relaying how he had grabbed this offending dog, placed the perished puppy in front of his nose, and then beat Jakob, with a chain, to within an inch of his life, sparing his life only because he seemed to be a powerful sled dog who would work well on the ice (Nilsen 2011). Rønne, in his diary, added further detail to this horrific tableau, specifying that Nilsen had used a double chain to mete out what he felt was his righteous punishment on a criminal dog, and that, after Nilsen was through with beating him, Jakob was then bitten by all his canine friends (Rønne 2011). It seems that this was truly an untenable situation. The dog was killing puppies ruthlessly at will and in turn being beaten and tortured to no end. To the men, the dog seemed incorrigible as a member of the community on board the ship and yet seemed to have potential for the ice. And so, they kept him captive and kept him beaten.However, the rolling here on board, they cannot manage. (Yes, it does by the way take a bit out of the people, as well, to manage that.) 8
The 2-month-old puppy who had died at Jakob’s jaw would have been either Ester’s, Sara’s, Eva’s, Bella’s, or Lolla’s – all of whom had given birth in October.
This brought the number of puppies down to 23, and the total number of dogs to 116. By now, Nilsen (2011) was being kept extremely busy looking after the smaller puppies, who could not weather the wet conditions at all, which were dangerously prevalent on the ship, and who needed his constant care to keep them safe and comfortable. In light of this, Nilsen relinquished his care of the adult dogs who had been assigned to him, and these dogs were now being taken care of solely by Oscar Wisting. These dogs were Obersten (“The Colonel”), Arne, Suggen, Brun (“Brown”), Rex, Tomm, Per, Adam, Lurven, Graaen (Gråen), Bella, and a dog Nilsen refers to as Eskimo who must be either Majoren (“The Major”) or Hans. Nilsen maintained, however, caring for two of the adult dogs: Sara, of whom he seems to have been particularly fond, and Dødsengelen (“The Angel of Death”) – Bjaaland’s dog whom he was helping to recover from illness.
The other men, too, who would make up the overwintering party, were now assigned their dogs as their sled teams and were given harnesses to fit onto their dogs (Rønne 2011; Hassel 2011; Nilsen 2011). The harnesses were custom-fit to the dogs, according to their sizes, and had been sewn by Rønne amidst the ritual gathering of the sled dogs in the chart house.
The sledding journeys were now anticipated in earnest, and decisions were being made about the harnesses and the reins to be used on the sled dogs. According to Amundsen’s diary entry of December 20, he and his crew decided on a total of 8 harnessed teams – 5 harnessed teams of 12 dogs each and 3 harnessed teams of 11 dogs each; the reins, he said, had been “customized” accordingly at this time and were ready to be placed on the dogs. 11 He did not mention in his diary which style or pattern of reins was selected. In his book The South Pole, however, he explained that he had decided to use the “Alaska Eskimo” configuration, wherein the dogs would be positioned two at a time (two, side-by-side) in a long, linear row (Amundsen 1912, vol. 1: 86).
The decisions and preparations made regarding the harnesses and reins must have motivated the men to take stock of their dogs. A few of the crewmembers selected for the overwintering party, including Olav Bjaaland and Hjalmar Johansen, wrote long biographies about their dogs at this time, describing each one physically, portraying their personalities, relaying their unique characteristics and idiosyncrasies, and imagining their lives and positions prior to boarding the ship. This moment in time must have signaled a turning point for the men, wherein they began to consider their dogs more in terms of their teamwork with the men, their vital roles in the Antarctic, and their potential on the ice.
Christmas Eve came, and all the dogs were given a dænge feast – their favorite cooked mixture of dried fish, animal fat, and cornmeal – with a thorough cleanup of the deck required following the feast and its aftermath (Gjertsen 2011; Hansen 2011).
Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were celebrated by the men with a special dinner cooked up by Lindstrøm, festive décor provided by some of the men, Christmas carols from home played on Amundsen’s hidden gramophone, and nostalgic remembrances of family and friends that brought tears to the men’s eyes (Amundsen Expedition Diary). Included in the festivities were special effects lighting created by Amundsen to set the holiday mood, cakes baked by Lindstrøm and brought from bakeries at home, wine given as gifts to the expedition, liquor that was enjoyed only on special days, and cigars that were especially craved by the men. In his diary, Amundsen described at length the Christmas party on board. He went into detail, with relish, the manner in which he had choreographed the event and how it had made a dramatic and emotional impact on his crew.
As the men steeped themselves in hot drinks, good food, recorded music, and Christmas traditions below deck, the dogs curled up together alone on the main deck, weathering the wind and the wet rain that the holiday had brought. It was another sleepless night for the sled dogs. There was no Christmas celebration for them.
The day after Christmas, fortunately, brought with it bright sunshine, which helped to dry the deck from most of its moisture, and now the dogs were finally able to lie down and sleep peacefully after the previous day’s damp and wakeful night (Gjertsen 2011). Unfortunately, however, the weather had already done its worst, and another puppy had died on the ship – “One of our smallest dog-puppies,” wrote Amundsen. 12 While Amundsen did not disclose how the puppy died, or whose puppy it was, Nilsen revealed that the puppy had died of sickness, in all probability from constantly being wet, and had been discovered cold and rigid that morning (Nilsen 2011). Nilsen expressed an ironic relief that this time the death of a puppy had not been the result of being attacked or eaten by another dog, but the result of an illness. The illness, he contended, was due to the wet conditions, which were the absolutely worst thing for all the dogs. As cheerful and full of life as they were in the sun and dry weather, he said, they were truly miserable in the damp weather and would not eat or drink or sleep. Nilsen almost seems to express a sense of lamentable regret in this diary entry, hinting at the conundrum of keeping over 100 dogs dry on a wet ship but also proclaiming his and the crewmen’s diligent efforts to do the best they could do for all the dogs.
With this latest death, there were now 115 dogs on board the Fram – 22 puppies and 93 adult dogs.
True to his word, Nilsen continued to foster the puppies, and it seems that the puppies responded well to him. Rønne (2011) describes Nilsen as lovingly serving food to the nearly two dozen puppies, with all of them gathered around him like a group of children.
The adult dogs all had free rein of the top deck at this time, being let loose at all times except during feeding time, when they were tied up to eat (Hansen 2011). The only exception was Jakob, who remained tied up in the location named 2nd place, watching the other dogs roam about freely. Two days after Christmas, a flock of penguins made themselves known to the ship’s crew and passengers as they swam south. Perhaps the dogs strolling about the ship, and looking out over the rail, glimpsed them, too. The penguins were a taste of what was to come. The Fram, deduced Amundsen, was now very near the ice.
Meanwhile, Hassel (2011) was preparing the wire that would bind the dogs to the ice once the expedition reached Antarctica – for, upon arrival, the dogs would once more become chained, this time in the White Continent.
The last birthing event to occur on the Fram during the expedition to Antarctica took place on December 28, when Lucy had her puppies. She was the last female to give birth on the ship during the journey south and the first mother to be allowed to keep a female puppy. In a reversal of fortune, it was the male puppies who were thrown overboard this time. “‘Lucy’ had little ones today,” wrote Amundsen. “She was allowed a daughter. The rest went in [to] the fishes. This is the first lady who was allowed to live.” 13 According to Rønne (2011) and Nilsen (2011), Lucy had a total number of six puppies. Amundsen stated in his diary that only one of her puppies – a female – was kept, and the rest were killed. Nilsen, however, stated that four males were thrown overboard and two females were kept, bringing the total number of dogs to 117. Amundsen, on the other hand, later maintained, in his South Pole book, that the dogs numbered 116 upon arrival in Antarctica (Amundsen 1912, vol. 1: 169). Given Amundsen’s usually consistent calculations, his statement that only one daughter was allowed to live, and the fact that a second female puppy is not referred to later in the expedition, it is most likely that the second female was shortly thereafter killed, and only the first female kept alive. The female puppy, according to Nilsen, was kept for breeding purposes, so that she, along with the female adults, could provide a new group of dogs to be used on the North Pole excursion following the South Pole expedition. It is the author’s conclusion that this female puppy, most likely, was named Lussi, as there is a young Lussi who is referred to later in Antarctica and that this is the same Lussi who later achieved an accomplishment of significance following the expedition (author’s research). Therefore, besides making history as being the only female puppy who Amundsen allowed to live on the Norwegian Antarctic Expedition, the young Lussi also made her own history – as will be seen later in this narrative.
The Final Numbers
A couple of the men, in their diary entries, attempted to calculate the total number of dogs. Rønne’s diary entry (Rønne 2011) on the day that Lucy gave birth indicates that, as of the end of December, there were 132 dogs – this is an obvious error, as, at the last count, there had been 115, and with Lucy’s six, had they all lived, there would have been 121. L. Hansen’s diary entry at Christmastime (Hansen 2011) gives an estimated total number of approximately 60 puppies born on the ship – this number is actually lower than the true number of puppies born. Hansen also explains that, because the females are not allowed to live, the number of puppies surviving on the ship is much lower – which, of course, is correct. Nilsen (2011), later in January, would say that the number of dogs had increased by 20 despite the fact that many puppies had been thrown overboard.
All in all, a net total of 23 surviving puppies had been added to the number of 93 living adult dogs on the ship, bringing the total number to 116. But one must remember that these 23 puppies were only the ones who had been allowed to live and had not died from attack or sickness.
According to the author’s calculations, there had been 81 puppies born on the Fram – nearly doubling the original number of dogs. Of those 81 puppies born, 50 had been killed at the hands of Amundsen and his crew – 46 female puppies and 4 male puppies. Had all of those puppies, who were intentionally killed by the men, been allowed to live, there would have been 166 dogs alive at the time that the Fram approached Antarctica (author’s research).
Of the 31 puppies who had been allowed to live, 8 had died from illness, attack, or an accident. And of the 97 adult dogs originally brought on board, 4 had died from sickness, childbirth, or falling overboard – Klokkeren, Eva, Maren, and Balder, respectively. Therefore, 93 remained of the original dogs. Counting these 8 puppies and 4 adults who had died accidentally, as well as the 3 dogs who had died on the Hans Egede on its way from Greenland to Norway, a total number of 181 dogs had thus far participated in the Norwegian Antarctic Expedition – 100 purchased from Greenland and 81 born on the Fram (author’s research).
The 93 remaining adult dogs from Greenland, plus the 23 puppies who were able to survive by being male (aside from the one lucky female), by avoiding sickness and accidents, and by escaping being eaten by Jakob, made a total number of 116 dogs on board the Fram at the end of December 1910.
The dogs had indeed been fruitful and multiplied. They had weathered the storms. They had found their footing on the rolling ship. And they had endured the heat relatively unscathed. The puppies, too, had endured – those small furry creatures who had not been thrown overboard to become fish food or bird food or flotsam floating on the sea of life. Amundsen now had his living, breathing transportation motors for the Antarctic ice, as he had planned – and he had plenty of spares as well.
Dog Chart: The Births, Killings, and Deaths on the Fram, and the Total Number of Dogs, as of December 31, 1910, and Upon Arrival in Antarctica
Of the 81 puppies born on Roald Amundsen’s Fram during the five-month journey from Norway to Antarctica during August 1910 to January 1911, a total of 50 puppies (46 females and 4 males) were intentionally killed, and 8 died from illness or from attack or by accident, leaving 31 surviving puppies, in addition to the 93 surviving adults, for a total number of 116 dogs who reached the Antarctic.
The births, killings, and deaths occurred as follows:
Camilla’s 2 females killed and 2 males lived on August 30, 1910
Maren’s 2 females killed and 2 males lived on September 6, 1910
Katinka’s 5 females killed and 2 males lived on September 10, 1910 (1 male was killed by Maren on October 3, 1910, leaving 1 male)
Ester’s 3 females killed and 3 males lived on October 19, 1910 (2 of the males died on October 19 and October 25, respectively, leaving 1 male)
Sara’s 3 females killed and 4 males lived on October 21, 1910
Eva’s 6 females killed and 4 males lived on October 24, 1910
Olava’s 8 females killed and 2 males lived October 24, 1910
Kaisa’s 5 females killed and 4 males lived on October 26, 1910 (1 male died on November 5 of malnourishment, 1 was eaten by Jakob on November 6, and another 1 was eaten by Jakob on November 11, leaving 1 male)
Bella’s 2 females killed and 1 male lived on October 28, 1910
Lolla’s 1 female killed and 5 males lived ca October 29, 1910
Else’s 8 females killed and 1 male lived on November 11, 1910
Lucy’s 1 female killed, 4 males killed, and 1 female lived on December 28, 1910 (the first and only female to be allowed to live during the departure voyage)
(Another 1 puppy was eaten by Jakob on December 16–17, 1910)
(1 of the smallest puppies died of disease on December 26, 1910)
Total puppies born on the ship = 81
Total puppies killed on the ship = 50
Total puppies allowed to live on the ship = 31
Total puppies died on the ship = 8
Total puppies survived on the ship = 23
= 23 Puppies were added
+ 93 Adult Dogs remaining from the 97 on the ship (of the original 100)
= 116 Total Dogs (including adults and puppies) on the Fram at the end of December 1910 and upon arrival in Antarctica in early-January 1911
Female puppies thrown overboard:
Camilla’s 2 on August 30, 1910
Maren’s 2 on September 6, 1910
Katinka’s 5 on September 10, 1910
Ester’s 3 on October 19, 1910
Sara’s 3 on October 21/22, 1910
Olava’s 8 on October 24, 1910
Eva’s 6 on October 24, 1910
Kaisa’s 5 on October 26, 1910
Bella’s 2 on October 28, 1910
Lolla’s 1 ca October 29, 1910
Else’s 8 on November 11, 1910
Lucy’s 1 female plus 4 males on December 28, 1910
= 46 females + 4 males
Total: 50 puppies killed
100 dogs were purchased from Greenland
– 3 dogs died en route to Norway
= 97 dogs boarded the ship to Antarctica
– 4 adult dogs died on the ship
= 93 surviving adult dogs remained on the ship
+ 81 puppies were born en route to the Antarctic
– 50 puppies were intentionally thrown overboard
– 8 puppies died by accident or attack on the ship
Total: 116 dogs arrived in Antarctica
The total number of sled dogs involved in the Norwegian Antarctic Expedition’s journey to Antarctica, with 100 dogs brought from Greenland and 81 puppies born on the ship, is 181 dogs
Notes on Original Material and Unpublished Sources
- 1.
R. Amundsen Antarctic expedition diary, 1 December 1910, NB Ms.4° 1549
- 2.
F.H. Johansen Antarctic expedition diary, 18 December 1910, NB Ms.4° 2775:C:2
- 3.
R. Amundsen Antarctic expedition diary, 1 December 1910, NB Ms.4° 1549
- 4.
R. Amundsen Antarctic expedition diary, 6 December 1910, NB Ms.4° 1549
- 5.
R. Amundsen Antarctic expedition diary, 7 December 1910, NB Ms.4° 1549.
- 6.
F.H. Johansen Antarctic expedition diary, 11 December 1910, NB Ms.4° 2775:C:2
- 7.
R. Amundsen Antarctic expedition diary, 12 December 1910, NB Ms.4° 1549
- 8.
F.H. Johansen Antarctic expedition diary, 18 December 1910, NB Ms.4° 2775:C:2
- 9.
R. Amundsen Antarctic expedition diary, 19 December 1910, NB Ms.4° 1549
- 10.
F.H. Johansen Antarctic expedition diary, 18 December 1910, NB Ms.4° 2775:C:2
- 11.
R. Amundsen Antarctic expedition diary, 20 December 1910, NB Ms.4° 1549
- 12.
R. Amundsen Antarctic expedition diary, 26 December 1910, NB Ms.4° 1549
- 13.
R. Amundsen Antarctic expedition diary, 28 December 1910, NB Ms.4° 1549