41 6 POLAR PROBLEMS 



had waged war with the polar ice, agreed as to its accessibility by 

 means of aircraft only. At latitude 86° we had covered one-half the 

 distance between Kings Bay and Point Barrow. Of the seven tons 

 of fuel the ship carried, only about two tons had been consumed. 

 Here we picked up the first sign of life since leaving 83^° (almost 

 700 miles) — one lone polar bear that could plainly be seen crossing 

 a larger ice floe. 



We now ran into fog, wind, and sleet. Ice coated the aerial wire 

 and froze the windmill driver of our generator, which supplied the 

 electrical energy to operate the radio transmitter and charge the stor- 

 age batteries, and all efforts to establish communication with Alaska 

 were of no avail. The last weather report from Alaska, before the wire- 

 less ceased to work, indicated that there was a low-pressure area over 

 Bering Sea that seemed to be stationary. Ice crust formed on the bow 

 of the ship, which was alarming, not only because it loaded her down 

 but also because it spoiled her trimming. We tried to counteract the 

 effect by moving the fuel from the bow tanks and sending the crew aft. 

 Needless to say, our greatest danger lay in the ice that was torn loose 

 from the sides of the ship by the whirling propellers and thrown 

 against the gas bags. An ice block of the most fantastic shape settled 

 on the sun compass, which stopped the clockwork and put it out of 

 action for the rest of the flight. It was a surprise, therefore, to find by 

 observation at 4 A. m., on May 13, that we were on a north-south line 

 striking the Alaskan coast only 21 nautical miles west of Point Bar- 

 row, because it had been nearly twelve hours since the last longitude 

 observation. 



THE LAST LAP ALONG THE ALASKAN COAST TO TELLER 



At 6.45 A. M. land was sighted ahead on the port bow, and at 7.25, 

 after a voyage lasting 48 hours, we reached the coast. Flat and snow- 

 covered, it was the most desolate looking coast line imaginable, 

 but it was land and that was enough. As we followed the coast line 

 the fog became denser and denser, obliging us to go lower and lower 

 in order to be able to see far enough ahead so as not to run against 

 obstacles. At last, abreast of Cape Beaufort, where the coast swings 

 from a southwest direction to straight west, it became impossible to 

 see any longer, and we rose through fog and cloud into bright sun- 

 shine. Heavy layers of fog drifted beneath us, and only now and then 

 through openings in it could we glimpse the barren peaks of the De 

 Long Mountains, the western extremity of the Brooks Range, over 

 which we were passing, but we could see far too little to enable us to 

 make out our exact whereabouts. When we believed ourselves as far 

 south as we should go, we tried to get down underneath the fog and 

 do our best to find the way. We had to nose down to an elevation of 



