The Primary Directive
“After taking our 97 dogs on board, in the evening we departed …” wrote Roald Amundsen in his diary on the day that the expedition set off from Kristiansand (Amundsen Expedition Diary). 1
It was 8:30 in the late evening on that hot summer day of August 9, 1910, when the Fram left the waters of Flekkerøy Island with 97 dogs, 20 men, 4 pigs, 6 carrier pigeons, and 1 canary on board, as reported by both Amundsen and ice pilot Ludvig Hansen (Amundsen Expedition Diary; Hansen 2011). This time, unlike the trip from Christiania (Oslo), there was no entourage to follow Fram, no farewell procession – only the residents of Kristiansand and its surrounding area, who had turned out in row boats and motor boats to wish the ship and its inhabitants a good journey, as recalled by sailmaker Martin Rønne (Rønne 2011). The ship was alone on the calm water. But the Polar vessel held what Amundsen prized most: A deck filled to the rim with dogs capable of taking him to the ultimate destination he desired – the South Pole.
The Fram, with its crew of humans and canines, must have presented quite a unique and mystifying image on the open water. Lt. Hjalmar Fredrik Gjertsen made note of the strange looks the ship received from fishermen plying their trade in surrounding boats, who wondered at the sights and sounds of nearly 100 dogs barking and struggling on board a large sailing vessel (Gjertsen 2011).
As the ship first headed west toward the English Channel, then south along the Atlantic, Amundsen handwrote his entries in his expedition diary, using small lettering and filling up every bit of space on each page with his thoughts, observations, strategies, and philosophy. In that same August 9 entry, he recorded that, in addition to “our 97 dogs,” there were 20 men on board the ship, and then he proceeded to list each man by name. It is interesting that the dogs came first in his official record; this priority listing indicates the importance he placed on them.
“From the very first I tried in every way to insist upon the paramount importance to our whole enterprise of getting our draught animals successfully conveyed to our destination,” wrote Amundsen later in his book The South Pole: An Account of the Norwegian Antarctic Expedition in the “Fram,” 1910–1912 (Amundsen 1912, vol. 1: 108). “If we had any watchword at this time it was: ‘Dogs first, and dogs all the time.’”
Amundsen’s main priority at this time was to accommodate the Greenland dogs who would be his future transportation. Based on his descriptions in his book, the dogs were situated throughout the deck and chained in rows along the port and starboard sides of the ship, as well as on the foredeck and aft-deck. In addition, there were 14 dogs squeezed onto the bridge, barely leaving enough room for the pilot at the ship’s wheel.
Amundsen organized the 97 dogs into groups of 10 and then assigned each group of dogs one or two human caretakers to look after them. Each of the groups, along with their caretaker(s), was given a special spot on the deck. Amundsen himself took as his group the 14 dogs who resided on the bridge – those 14 who are seen in the film footage, riding in the last boat to leave the island.
The men now bore the responsibility of nurturing these “wild” beings whom Amundsen saw as living, breathing “tools” that were invaluable to his expedition – a means to his end. “Before I proceed to our further equipment, I must say a few more words about the dogs,” he had said in his book The South Pole, indicating his view of the dogs as “equipment” (Amundsen 1912, vol. 1: 57). “The greatest difference between my and Scott’s equipment lay undoubtedly in our choice of draught animals,” he had continued. Thus, Amundsen considered his dogs to be part of his equipment. And in analyzing his “equipment,” he extolled the virtues of using canines over ponies, citing the ease with which dogs transported supplies and provisions over the ice, their ability to easily be pulled out of crevasses when they fell, and “the obvious advantage that dog can be fed on dog” (Amundsen 1912, vol. 1: 58). Killing the weaker dogs and feeding them to the “chosen” ones was the smartest method, he maintained, adding that “if we ourselves wanted a piece of fresh meat we could cut off a delicate little fillet … The dogs do not object at all; as long as they get their share …” (Amundsen 1912, vol. 1: 58–59). Such was the presumption of Amundsen.
And yet, there was a duality in his attitude toward the sled dogs, in that he also saw them as individuals, with a “pronounced individuality” and a human-like quality very much like a “soul” – a soul that he stated he recognized when he looked into the dogs’ eyes. “How often do we see something ‘human’ in their expression, the same variations that we meet with in human eyes,” he said. “This, at all events, is something that strikingly resembles ‘soul’” (Amundsen 1912, vol. 1: 110). In addition to having a soul, they had a persona. He marveled at how the nearly 100 dogs each had their own distinct and individual personalities and exhibited their own unique qualities – not just physically but also behaviorally. No two were alike, he claimed. And by claiming this, he thus contradicted his previous statement regarding dogs serving as equipment and fresh meat, concluding that “a dog is something more than a mere machine of flesh and blood” (Amundsen 1912, vol. 1: 110). And yet, as will be seen, during the Antarctic excursions and march to the South Pole, Amundsen would indeed use the dogs as tools, as nonbeing machines, in order to achieve his goal by any means. He would disregard their being-ness and their individuality. This argument, then, that Amundsen seems to have been having, was with himself, regarding the use of these soulful beings as equipment, to be employed and then killed, or as individual beings, with whom to have reciprocated companionship and feelings.
In dealing with the 97 canines on board, Amundsen and his men at first assigned numbers to the dogs, according to second-in-command Thorvald Nilsen (2011). Soon, however, the men christened their dogs with descriptive names, capturing each dog’s physical appearance or behavioral mannerisms and familiarizing themselves with the dogs’ individual characters and personalities. They interacted with, and befriended, their new shipmates, who surprised some of the crew by not being the vicious monsters that some of the men had feared them to be; according to Lt. Kristian Prestrud, the dogs quickly familiarized themselves with the men and presented a much more manageable community on board than originally envisioned (Prestrud 2011). The men also fed the dogs in a carefully choreographed though quite lively production – each man feeding his own dogs once a day, in the morning, and all the dogs being fed at the same time, as this reinforced the routine aboard the ship, and most likely maintained the peace. Amundsen insisted that eating was the Polar dog’s greatest pleasure, and he made sure the dogs were fed well – the dried fish, mixed with lard, came into play here. Water was given to the dogs by their respective caretakers three times a day – 1 liter per watering, as documented by Nilsen (2011). According to Amundsen, within the first few days, the dogs and their caretakers became “best of friends” (Amundsen 1912, vol. 1: 109).
But the dogs were not only a necessary assignment. They provided welcome companionship on the ship. Many of the crewmembers wrote in their diaries about the enjoyment they received from the dogs (e.g., Gjertsen 2011). Amundsen himself stated that the work involved in caring for, and keeping alive, nearly 100 dogs, provided “diversion and amusement,” especially as “we here had to deal with living creatures that had sense enough fully to appreciate and reciprocate in their own way any advance that was made to them” (Amundsen 1912, vol. 1: 108).
The more the men interacted with the dogs, the more they bonded with them. And the dogs themselves showed their appreciation to the men, visibly responding to any attention they were given. “It was quite touching to see their joy and gratitude when one gave up a little time to their entertainment,” wrote Amundsen. Mornings, especially, were a time when the dogs overwhelmingly showed their excitement at seeing their “masters,” greeting them with “a chorus of joyful howls,” and fully expecting to be petted and spoken to individually. If one of the dogs was overlooked or not paid attention to, that dog immediately reacted with deep disappointment. “There can hardly be an animal that is capable of expressing its feelings to the same extent as the dog,” said Amundsen (1912, vol. 1: 109–110).
Their show of affection notwithstanding, taking care of these 97 beings required patience, stated Amundsen, and sailing with a deck full of dogs would sometimes prove challenging; however, “in spite of all the trouble and inconvenience to which the transport of the dogs necessarily gave rise, I am certainly right in saying that these months of sea voyage would have seemed far more monotonous and tedious if we had been without our passengers” (Amundsen 1912, vol. 1: 111).
Protective Accommodations: Transporting the Transportation
The nearly 100 passengers to whom Amundsen gave transport across the seas and half way around the globe would in turn provide transport for Amundsen when he became the passenger on the ice in the Antarctic. For this reason, they were very important to him.
Amundsen thus made doubly and triply sure to take measures that would help make the dogs more comfortable, content, and safe on the sea journey. His principal goal at this time, from the very first day of sailing, was to create appropriate accommodations for them. This included shading them from the hot sun, keeping them dry from the sea and rain, and keeping them as well fed as possible. In the process, he felt he also needed to keep them chained to the deck, which he did for the first 6 weeks. It is interesting to note that, in his The South Pole book, Amundsen lambasts those “compassionate” critics who cried “cruelty” regarding the treatment of dogs on the Fram, while they “themselves kept watch-dogs tied up” (Amundsen 1912, vol. 1: 60–61). Recall Amundsen’s own dogs at home, who were not chained, and the duality with which he views his home dogs and his sled dogs. Thus, Amundsen’s dual view is doubled – in the contradictory way, he views his sled dogs as both equipment and individuals, and in the opposing ways, he views his pet dogs versus his working dogs.
These working dogs were an investment for his future, and, on the ship, he took measures to protect his investment. On August 10, the first full day of sailing, Amundsen recorded in his diary the precautions that he and the men had taken to protect the dogs, including stretching sun sails to provide shade and constructing the second layer of deck boarding to provide a dry and cool floor (Amundsen Expedition Diary). The dogs themselves were content, he claimed, eating the dried fish he had ordered and loaded onto the ship and drinking the water he provided. 2
It must be remembered, however, that these were formerly free creatures who ventured out on an expanse of white snow; now they were chained and seated shoulder-to-shoulder with other dogs, while the very ground beneath them shifted and rose and fell. Such was the beginning of life on the ship. And, so, one might wonder if they were truly content. On the same day that Amundsen made his remarks in his diary (August 10, 1910), another crewmember made his own observations about the state of the dogs chained to the deck. Champion skier and adventure enthusiast Olav Bjaaland wrote of the dogs’ standing and howling and attempting to bite the side of the dog standing next to them, with frequent fights being separated by the men using whatever object lay at hand (Bjaaland 2011). It may be that the quarrels emanated from a captive state still yet to be understood by the dogs.
Other crewmembers wrote about the dogs’ desperately loud howls and random sporadic fighting during the first week of the voyage, which were possibly an attempt to acclimate themselves to their new surroundings; the dogs were observed by many of the crew to have internal battles among each other during those first days but gradually calmed down and became quieter as the days passed, especially during nights and mealtimes (Gjertsen 2011; Nilsen 2011; Kutschin 2011). The lack of freedom of movement, and the dense population in a limited space, most likely contributed to the dogs’ initial behavior.
Still another concern was the sun, the heat, and the amount of water that the dogs were allowed to drink. Expert dog driver Sverre Hassel reported in his diary on August 10 that the men immediately stretched out the sun sails to shade the dogs from the searing sun, and, on the following day of August 11, agreeing with Nilsen’s report, he documented that they allotted each dog 3 liters of water to drink a day – 1 liter given three times per day (Hassel 2011). The captive dogs howled incessantly and attempted to free themselves of their chains during those first few days, and, according to Hassel, as of August 12, they were assigned to the ship’s crew in groups of 12 and given their assigned numbers, which were engraved onto brass plates placed on the dogs.
Over the next 3 weeks, Amundsen would keep daily tabs on his sled dogs, recording what he viewed as their comfort and enjoyment in the clear, breezy weather and their sheer misery in driving rain and violent seas. “The dogs are not so well in these circumstances,” he wrote during a windy and rainy August 12. 3 Then, on the next day, “The dogs are living well. Eat, drink, get bored and fight.” 4 The hits and strikes and fighting may very well have been a form of lashing out in their new environment.
The wind, rain, and storms truly did present difficulties for the dogs. As Oscar Wisting had noted on the island, prior to their departure from the fortress, the dogs were deathly afraid of thunder. Rain, too, proved to be their enemy. Amundsen commented quite frequently on board the ship how the dogs suffered in the rain, spending sleepless nights standing in the precipitation and being tense, unhappy, and drenched with rainwater and seawater. They were truly miserable standing under constantly falling rain showers, completely drenched and frantically trying to shake off the water from their fur, with their paws uncomfortably immersed in the water that stood on the deck (Nilsen 2011; Gjertsen 2011). On August 19, Bjaaland captured the dogs’ predicament and misery, noting in his diary how the dogs were being tossed about like children’s toys in the gale-force wind and the rocking ship (Bjaaland 2011). That same day, Hassel, too, commiserated with the dogs in their predicament, reporting that they were extremely disturbed by the spraying of the seawater into the ship (Hassel 2011). The inclement weather indeed affected the dogs and would prove to be a continual problem.
One problem that did not occur initially, however, and that had been anticipated by the crew, was the dogs’ interaction with the other wildlife on board – specifically the pigs that had been brought on board for the men’s food, one of whom Amundsen had filmed during the pig’s slaughter earlier in the test portion of the voyage. Hjalmar Johansen stated in his diary (Johansen Expedition Diary), on that same day of August 19, that the pigs in particular were a nuisance on-board and that there had been concern about what would occur when the “half-wild Eskimo dogs caught sight of them” – but, to his surprise, all had gone well; the dogs were chained, and the pigs were confined in their pen. 5 This peaceful coexistence was threatened a week later, however, when, amidst the violent rolling of the ship, the carcass of a recently slaughtered pig toppled from its place of purchase and onto the deck, barely within reach of some of the dogs. A tumultuous barking and pulling at their chains ensued, with the dogs attempting to secure the unexpected meal for themselves; the noise alerted some of the men, who managed to snatch their pork dinner away from the jaws of the dogs just in time. The noise, however, had also awoken the sole remaining live pig, who promptly jumped out of his pen to see what had transpired and suddenly found himself running wildly down the length of the ship, through a maze of dogs lined up along both sides of the deck, each of them attempting to take a bite of him. One older, larger dog near the entrance to the below deck finally stopped the pig, who was then rescued by the men – rescued, that is, until it was the men’s own suppertime. This incident was memorable – and to some, humorous – enough that at least two crewmembers wrote about it in their diaries: Lt. Gjertsen (2011) and oceanographer Alexander Kutschin (2011).
As the weather alternated between rainy and sunny, the dogs attempted to adapt to their new life. Keeping them calm and nourished was crucial for Amundsen. On August 22 he observed: “The dogs thrive more than expected …”, citing two that seemed to be ill but maintaining that most had gained weight. 6 Amundsen measured success, as it relates to the caring for the dogs, in terms of weight gain. The heavier they became, he thought, the happier and healthier they were.
They were each fed half a kilogram of dænge twice a week – the porridge mixture of dried fish, lard, and flour – and received their second portion of this on August 19, as reported by Hassel in his diary (Hassel 2011). On this day, however, their water ration was also reduced from 3 liters to 2.5 liters, according to Hassel.
A detailed recipe for dænge was given by Gjertsen (2011) in his August 30 diary entry. The ingredients for the boiled porridge included 25 kilograms of hardtack, 30 liters of water, 30 kilograms of melted lard, 50 kilograms of chopped dried fish, and 20 kilograms of cornmeal. This was then portioned out to the 97 dogs. It was a meal they craved.
The dogs were quickly becoming known to the crew by their individual looks and behavior. And the men, too, were being studied by the dogs. When Amundsen first assigned groups of ten dogs to one or two caretakers each, and kept the dogs constantly chained along the deck of the ship (a confinement that would last for the first 8 weeks), he proclaimed that the imprisonment was for the dogs’ own protection and that what was required prior to their freedom was a proper “education” (Amundsen 1912, Vol. 1: 109). Situated in their areas of confinement on the ship, it was now time for this education to commence.
The specific locations on the ship that were assigned to each group of dogs and their caretaker(s) are recorded in Amundsen’s diary in his September 2, 1910, entry and in his book The South Pole. The arrangements were as follows: Oscar Wisting and his dogs were situated “on the starboard side of the mainmast” (on the right side, when facing the bow/front); Helmer Hanssen and his dogs were on the port side of the foredeck (left side when facing the bow/front) tucked in a corner near the bow; Sverre Hassel, Olav Bjaaland, Kristian Prestrud, and Thorvald Nilsen each kept their dogs in side-by-side locations along the foredeck; Hjalmar Johansen and Jørgen Stubberud tended to their dogs on the aft-deck; and Amundsen and his dogs were positioned on the bridge (Amundsen Expedition Diary 7 ; Amundsen 1912, vol. 2: 182).
Meet the Arctic Passengers
In their expedition diaries, the crewmembers wrote about their own dogs and dogs from other teams that they observed on the ship and later on the ice. These observations were recorded on a daily basis over the nearly 2 years of the expedition. Amundsen, too, wrote of some of the dogs in his diary and in his book, The South Pole. The aggregate portrait painted by all these reports is a picture of the dogs pieced together over time and from different perspectives. This is the information used to compile the following descriptions and groupings. Information is also used from the chapter entitled “A Day at Framheim” in Amundsen’s book, in which the explorer takes a literary journey around his camp in Antarctica, describing some of the dogs to an imaginary visitor (a literary devise he uses to introduce the readers to the dogs). These descriptions (although not inclusive) give practical information about some of the dogs in terms of their appearance and manners, as well as offer an indication of Amundsen’s own impression of the dogs and their caretakers. Together with the diary entries, these passages form a big picture of the sled dogs (All Diaries; Amundsen 1912).
Through a compilation of information gained from the captain’s and crew’s individual writings, including all the diaries and books and some letters of correspondence, a communal portrait of the members of the canine community is collated here.
Tended to by Oscar Wisting, and situated near the mainmast on the starboard (right) side, were the following dogs: Obersten (“The Colonel”), a deep-reddish-brown large dog who had attempted to swim to his freedom at Flekkerøy Island and whom Amundsen believed to be “our handsomest animal” (Amundsen 1912, vol. 1: 308–309); Majoren (“The Major”), whose story would later take a very poignant turn; Per, a superb dog (Amundsen 1912); and Suggen, Arne, Brun (“Brown”), Lurven, Adam, Hans, Bella, and Tomm. Curiously, when describing Wisting’s dogs in his book after the return of the expedition, Amundsen referred only to Obersten, Suggen, Arne, and Brun, saying “We can expect a great deal of these dogs” (Amundsen 1912, vol. 1: 308–309). He mentioned Tomm, Majoren, and Per much later in the book. He did not describe or name the others. Perhaps this is due to the events which later unfolded, as will be seen in this account. These events were recorded in Amundsen’s and the expeditioners’ diaries, and from those entries, a picture is painted of dedicated effort and sacrifice by Lurven, Adam, Bella, and Per, as well as an unfortunate event for Tomm.
With Helmer Hanssen, on the port side of the foredeck (left side when facing the bow/front), in a corner near the bow, were the two brothers – nearly identical twins – Mylius and Ring, whom Amundsen described as “sausages with matches underneath” and who looked “as like as two drops of water” (Amundsen 1912, vol. 1: 307–308); Zanko, a large, black-and-white dog who looked to be a bit older than the twins; Hök and Togo; the two friends Hai and Rap, whom Amundsen described as friendly rivals, with Hai being the stubborn one who would not let go of what he wanted; and Helge, Lolla, and Bone. Amundsen later said that Zanko, Ring, and Mylius were some of their best dogs, and that Hanssen’s was one of the strongest teams. Mylius and Ring especially were extraordinarily impressive – although they were rather small, Amundsen described them as “undoubtedly among our best workers” (Amundsen 1912, vol. 1: 308). These twin dogs especially had great potential, most likely exhibiting these leadership qualities ever since their puppyhood in Greenland, and Hanssen would later work magic with them once they reached the Antarctic ice. Hök, Togo, Hai, and Rap were troublemakers, who were dealt with accordingly by Hanssen, according to Amundsen (Amundsen 1912, vol. 1: 324–326). In regard to Helge, Lolla, and Bone, Amundsen gave no description in his book.
Cared for by Sverre Hassel, and taking their spot at the foredeck, were his constant guard dogs Mikkel, Ræven (“The Fox”), Mas-Mas (also Masmas), and Else (Amundsen 1912, vol. 1: 311), as well as Svartflekken (“The Black Spot”), Svarten (“Blackie”), Balder, Ester, Hviten (“The White”), Klokkeren (“The Bell Ringer”) – who had weak legs, Peary – named after the Arctic explorer, Mons, Busaren, and Bjørn. In his book, Amundsen described only the first four of these dogs and mentioned only a couple of the others; some of the remainders are discussed by Johansen, Prestrud, Nilsen, and Hjalmar Fredrik Gjertsen in their accounts.
Looked after by Olav Bjaaland, and situated on the foredeck, were Knut, a white dog with black speckles who exhibited fear; Lap, a black dog with a white-ringed tail, a unique look, and a confident demeanor; Kvæn (also spelled Kvajn), white with a black head, and brother to Lap; Fin (also Finn), a small, black, popular dog; Idioten (“The Idiot”), a large, black dog full of energy; Gorki, a strong, white-and-black dog; Pus, a gray, quiet dog; Pan, a red and gray dog; Fisken (“The Fish”), a white-and-black, wary dog; Frithjof (also spelled Fridjof), an athletic dog with black spots; Olava, an amiable, black dog; Dødsengelen (“The Angel of Death”), a black dog with ill health; and Jaala (“Heart” – also spelled Jåla) (Bjaaland 2011). Kvæn was listed by Amundsen as first among Bjaaland’s dogs (Amundsen 1912, vol. 1: 308); then, later, he presumably alludes to him when describing “the boss of the team” who was very fond of fellow team member Frithjof (Amundsen 1912, vol. 2: 182). Jaala, whose name “Heart” gives some indication of Bjaaland’s fondness of her, also had the heart-felt affection of her three cavaliers, Lap, Pan, and Gorki. Amundsen came to believe that Kvæn, Lap, Pan, Gorki, and Jaala were Bjaaland’s favorite dogs. They were small but “fine dogs,” he said (Amundsen 1912, vol. 1: 308). Perhaps Bjaaland felt that his small dogs had big personalities – the champion skier at times expressed wonderment at his situation as part of the South Pole expedition. Dogs did not always seem to be his strength. But he had very good ones, and he took care of them. Interestingly, Amundsen did not offer much description about Bjaaland’s dogs, besides naming the five he mentioned as being Bjaaland’s favorites. Bjaaland himself had much to say about his dogs, which he recorded in his diary, as will be seen later.
Minded by Jørgen Stubberud, and located on the aft-deck, were Lucy and her three admiring friends Karenius, Sauen (“The Sheep”), and Schwartz, who would later prove to be “a power in the camp” (Amundsen 1912, vol. 1: 308). These four friends would also present a puzzle for Amundsen that he would try to solve during the South Pole trek, as will be seen in this account. Also part of this team were Sara, Skøiern, Vulcanus, Gråen, and Ulven (“The Wolf”). Their caring caretaker Stubberud was formerly a carpenter who had worked on Amundsen’s home in Svartskog; it is a possibility that he is the one who built or worked on the matching small dog house with similar exterior décor that graced Amundsen’s backyard.
Cared for by Hjalmar Johansen, and residing on the aft-deck, were Camilla (also spelled Kamilla), the good-hearted dog whom Amundsen mentions frequently in both his book and diary and whom Johansen seemed to adore; Liket (“The Corpse”), one of the oldest dogs on board and extremely thin; Klöverknegt (Kløverknekt –“Jack of Clubs,” also called Knegten and Knekten “The Jack”), a black-and-white dog with good common sense; Tigeren (“The Tiger”), a black dog with a calm disposition; Uroa (“Always Moving”), a dynamic dog with beautiful fur of yellow and gray color; Rotta (“The Rat”), a black-and-white dog and an accomplished fighter; Maxim Gorki, who Johansen claimed resembled the writer; Emil, who bore an academic look; Skalpen (“The Scalp”), a nearly bald dog who was traumatized and fearful; Hellik, a small dog who was also very scared and a friend of Skalpen; Dæljen, a solid, older dog with a good disposition; and Grim (“Ugly”), a balding dog with yellow and brown fur (Johansen Expedition Diary). 8 Johansen trained many of the dogs who later became lead sled dogs on the Antarctic ice and nursed many who miraculously survived the sea voyage, given the extreme severity of their sicknesses; but all Amundsen had to say about Johansen’s dogs, later in his book, was: “there is not much to be said about his dogs. The most remarkable of them is Camilla” (Amundsen 1912, vol. 1: 309). The reason for this reticence is the major clash between Amundsen and Johansen which occurred later on the ice, as will be seen in this account.
Congregated with Amundsen on the bridge were “The Trio” (Fix, the biting, gray wolf-like dog; Lasse, the “almost pure black” dog; and Snuppesen, the “dark red lady,” as described by Amundsen (Amundsen 1912, vol. 1: 305–307)); “The Three Musketeers” Rasmus, Jens, and Ola, who were all black in color, fast in footing, and “inseparable friends” (Amundsen 1912, vol. 1: 244–245); Uranus, a black-and-white dog who was a “professional singer” (Amundsen 1912, vol. 1: 307); Neptune; Tor, a large, smooth-haired dog (Amundsen 1912, vol. 1: 238); Odin, Fuchs, and Knud; and Maren and Katinka, two small red dogs with significant stories whom Amundsen mentions only in his diary, as will be recounted in this historical story (Amundsen Expedition Diary). Amundsen took special care to court his dogs and gain their trust, and he delighted in observing them for his amusement. Although some of them were “not very civilly disposed” at first, Amundsen “situated [himself] into their confidence” (Amundsen 1912, vol. 1: 244–245).
Looked after by Kristian Prestrud, on the foredeck of the ship, were the brothers Jakob (an untrustworthy dog) and Isak, as well as Kaisa, Ulrik, Samson, Lazarus, Nigger [sic], Cook (also spelled Kock) – an intrepid dog named after the North Pole explorer, Jeppe, Suvarow (also Suvarov, Suvaron), and Ajax. Isak would soon have a minor mishap on the ship, and Kaisa – described as “a big black-and-white bitch” by Amundsen (1912, vol. 1:261) – would factor greatly in Amundsen’s experience on the ice.
Tended to by Thorvald Nilsen on the foredeck were some of the females including Eva. Eva was very weak and thin and was unable to eat sufficiently; after boarding the ship, she required “14 days” of Nilsen’s patiently coaxing her before she would eat. 9
The dogs remained chained from August to October, at which time they were unchained but muzzled so as to be able to obtain their exercise without getting into trouble or major fights among themselves, which they were sometimes inclined to do.
At the time of unchaining the dogs on the ship, and allowing them to roam free, the men learned a valuable lesson about familial and companionship bonds among the sled dogs. The dogs had formed their own friendships prior to boarding the ship – some of them had been friends or siblings or mates who had spent their time together ever since their very first days, in Greenland. Upon boarding the Fram, some of these siblings and friends were separated and assigned to opposite ends of the ship or were located at separate parts of the deck where they could not see one another. Thus, their chained captivity was especially difficult for them, in that they had the added disadvantage of being separated from their friend or loved one. The dogs who had been separated thusly exhibited a somewhat different behavior than most of the other dogs – they were less outgoing, less happy, and more dispirited during the first several weeks of the voyage. None of the crew knew the reason for this, and none of the men actually acted to find out why these particular dogs had such malaise. Once the dogs were allowed to walk around, however, loose and free and on their own, they immediately made their way to their friend or loved one and joyously reunited. The men who witnessed this were surprised and moved. The dogs’ reunions, according to Amundsen, were “touching” and telling; once reunited with their friends or loved ones, these same dogs seemed transformed – they were now happy and outgoing. The “friendships” these “Arctic dogs … often form,” stated Amundsen, “are sometimes so strong that one dog simply cannot live without the other” (Amundsen 1912, vol. 1: 147).
In these instances of separated friends finding each other, the dog groupings on the ship were “of course” adjusted so that the long-lost friends could be together again. This also allowed the friends to be part of the same sledging team and to work together on the ice (Amundsen 1912, vol. 1: 147–148).
Once they reached the ice, the groupings of dogs would be further altered, in that some dogs would be exchanged between the men (in some cases, two or three at a time so as to keep the friends together, as was appropriate) in order to form the finalized sledging teams that would work in Antarctica and journey toward the South Pole.
Dog Chart: The Team Groupings of the 97 Sled Dogs and Their Human Caretakers on Board the Fram During the Voyage to Antarctica
The 97 Greenland dogs were grouped into teams of 10 to 14 and assigned a human caretaker each, on board the Fram during the Polar vessel’s voyage from Norway to Antarctica during August 1910 to January 1911.
Roald Amundsen’s Team
Fix (also Fiks)
Lasse (also Lassesen)
Snuppesen (also Fru Snuppesen – “Mrs. Snuppesen”, and Snuppa)
Rasmus
Jens
Ola
Tor (also Thor)
Odin
Uranus
Neptune
Maren
Katinka (also Tinka and Cathinka; formerly known as Afrodite – after Aphrodite the Greek goddess)
Fuchs
Rex
Knud
Helmer Hanssen’s Team
Mylius
Ring
Zanko
Hök
Togo (also Tago)
Hai (also Haika)
Rap
Helge
Bone (also Bona)
Lolla (also Lola)
Oscar Wisting’s Team
Obersten (“The Colonel”)
Majoren (“The Major”)
Suggen
Arne
Adam
Brun (“Brown”)
Lurven (also Lurvaroff)
Per
Hans
Bella (also Bolla)
Tomm (also Tom)
Sverre Hassel’s Team
Mikkel
Ræven (“The Fox”, also Reven and Ravn)
Mas-Mas (also Masmas and Mass-Mass)
Else (also Elisa)
Balder
Svartflekken (“The Black Spot”)
Peary (after the American explorer Robert Peary)
Svarten (“Blackie”)
Mons
Busaren (also Beiseren)
Bjørn (“The Bear”)
Hviten (“The White”)
Ester (also Esther)
Klokkeren (“The Bell Ringer”)
Jørgen Stubberud’s Team
Karenius
Sauen (“The Sheep”)
Schwartz
Lucy (also Lussi and Lussie)
Sara (also Sarikken)
Skøiern (also Skøieren)
Ulven (“The Wolf”, also Ulv)
Vulcanus (“Vulcan”, also Vulkanus)
Gråen (also Graaen and Gråenon)
Hjalmar Johansen’s Team
Camilla (also Kamilla)
Liket (“The Corpse”)
Klöverknegt/Knegten (“Jack of Clubs”/“The Jack,” also Klöverknekt/Knekten, and Knægten)
Tigeren (“The Tiger”)
Uroa (“Always Moving”)
Rotta (“The Rat”)
Maxim Gorki (after the Russian writer Maxim Gorky)
Emil
Skalpen (“The Scalp,” also Skalperert; also known as Skelettet, “The Skeleton”)
Hellik
Dæljen
Grim (“Ugly,” formerly known as Sundbäck after the Fram ’s engineer Sundbeck, with Sund meaning “Healthy”; then USundbäck, with a play on the name implying “Unhealthy”; then Skallagrimsen, the Icelandic name, with Skalla meaning “Bald”; and then finally named Grim, although he was not really so ugly)
Olav Bjaaland’s Team
Kvæn (also Kvajn and Kven, a Finnish/Sami name)
Lap (also Lapp, a Sami name)
Pan
Gorki (after a Russian)
Pus (“Kitty,” also Puss)
Jaala (“Heart,” also Jåla)
Olava
Frithjof (also Fridtjof)
Idioten (“The Idiot,” also Ideal)
Knut
Fisken (“The Fish”)
Finn (also Fin)
Dødsengelen (“The Angel of Death”)
Kristian Prestrud’s Team
Ulrik
Kaisa (also Kajsa, formerly Ingeborg, Gjeita)
Jakob (also Jacob and Jakop)
Isak (also Isaac)
Nigger [sic] (also Niger)
Jeppe
Lazarus
Samson
Suvarow (also Suvarov and Suvaron)
Ajax
Cook (also Kock, after the American explorer Frederick Cook)
Thorvald Nilsen’s Group
Eva
Aja
The groupings listed here represent the initial teams formed on the ship Fram as it sailed from Norway to Antarctica. It is important to note that while these dogs were looked after and trained in these team groupings by the men on board the ship and then later at the Antarctic base camp Framheim, the dogs were sometimes interchanged on the ship to allow companions to reside together, and, upon arrival in Antarctica, many of them were subsequently traded to other sled teams to go on various depot tours and on the trek to the South Pole. Even during the final stretch to the Pole, some of the dogs were still switched from one team to another as became necessary. These changes and switches are notated within the story.
Dogs on the bridge, and dogs on the deck, chained securely throughout the ship, as Fram transported Roald Amundsen’s sled dogs to Antarctica, where they would become his mode of transportation to the South Pole. (Photographer: unidentified / Owner: National Library of Norway)
Notes on Original Material and Unpublished Sources
- 1.
R. Amundsen Antarctic expedition diary, 9 August 1910, NB Ms.4° 1549
- 2.
R. Amundsen Antarctic expedition diary, 10 August 1910, NB Ms.4° 1549
- 3.
R. Amundsen Antarctic expedition diary, 12 August 1910, NB Ms.4° 1549
- 4.
R. Amundsen Antarctic expedition diary, 13 August 1910, NB Ms.4° 1549
- 5.
F.H. Johansen Antarctic expedition diary, 19 August 1910, NB Ms.4° 2775:C:2
- 6.
R. Amundsen Antarctic expedition diary, 22 August 1910, NB Ms.4° 1549
- 7.
R. Amundsen Antarctic expedition diary, 2 September 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, 2 November 1910, NB Ms.4° 1549