we did not want to risk starting out at <strong>the</strong> end ofAugust with <strong>the</strong> imminent approach of winter. Wechose to embark on our expedition in June, at <strong>the</strong>beginning of <strong>the</strong> brief Arctic summer when <strong>the</strong>reis still-solid sea ice, knowing that after <strong>the</strong> first fewweeks, <strong>the</strong> kayak team would be able to paddlefreely in open water. Greely and his men, who leftalmost three months later, encountered just <strong>the</strong>opposite—ever-worsening ice conditions as <strong>the</strong>yretreated fur<strong>the</strong>r south.We ga<strong>the</strong>red in Yellowknife, capital of <strong>the</strong>Northwest Territories, packed kayaks, gear, andfuel into a chartered De Havilland transport planeand set off for <strong>the</strong> nor<strong>the</strong>rnmost regular airportat Resolute in <strong>the</strong> district of Nunavut. We <strong>the</strong>nregrouped, picked up a Canadian park ranger andcontinued on to Fort Conger in <strong>the</strong> Twin Otter. Avery large area of Ellesmere Island, including FortConger, is in Canada’s nor<strong>the</strong>rnmost nationalpark, and people are not allowed to visit <strong>the</strong> siteof Greely’s camp without official supervision. Welanded in a dry stream bed near Fort Conger,where <strong>the</strong> foundation of <strong>the</strong> station and much ofGreely’s equipment remains to this day.<strong>The</strong> team set out on <strong>the</strong> summer equinox—<strong>the</strong>anniversary of Greely’s rescue in 1884—pulling<strong>the</strong>ir kayaks over 16 kilometers of sea ice across32Lady Franklin Bay. Meanwhile, Gino, Tom, and Itook off to set up our first basecamp at Carl RitterBay. While <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>rs were exerting <strong>the</strong>mselves,we lived in relative luxury in a huge, six-meter dometent with most of <strong>the</strong> comforts of home.All went according to plan until July 4, when anaccident occurred that could have been tragic for<strong>the</strong> expedition. As Scott attempted to come ashorein his kayak, he became pinned between “<strong>the</strong> icefoot”—ice frozen firmly against <strong>the</strong> shore—and arapidly moving ice floe that was being pushed upand against <strong>the</strong> foot by <strong>the</strong> incoming tide. Scott’skayak was crushed and he was severely injured.If <strong>the</strong> ice had closed in any fur<strong>the</strong>r, Scott wouldhave undoubtedly been killed, but fortunately, itstopped just in time for his kayaking companionsto pull him out.While <strong>the</strong> team waited anxiously for <strong>the</strong> helicopterfor his immediate medical evacuation, <strong>the</strong>y found<strong>the</strong>mselves floating offshore on a cracking ice floe inever-thickening fog, a haunting reminder of Greely’smen drifting in Kane Basin. Thanks to modern communications,<strong>the</strong> Canadian Army detachment at<strong>the</strong> Eureka wea<strong>the</strong>r station, and Peter Jefford, ourhelicopter pilot, Scott was plucked from <strong>the</strong> ice;transported to Iqualuit, <strong>the</strong> capital of Nunavut; and<strong>the</strong>n to Ottawa for intensive medical treatment—all<strong>The</strong> east coast of Ellesmere Island, photo by James Shedd
Geoffrey E. Clark, third from left, and his party unfurl <strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> club flag at Greely’s Camp Clay at Cape Sabine. Photo by Gino Del Guerciowithin seven hours of <strong>the</strong> accident in one of <strong>the</strong> mostremote spots on <strong>the</strong> planet. Scott’s accident clearlydemonstrated that even with modern equipment, wewere still at <strong>the</strong> mercy of <strong>the</strong> elements—conditions asunforgiving today as <strong>the</strong>y were in Greely’s time.Meanwhile, <strong>the</strong> team questioned whe<strong>the</strong>r <strong>the</strong>yshould continue with <strong>the</strong> expedition. Fortunately,Scott’s injuries were limited to “only” a puncturedlung, five fractured ribs, a dislocated clavicle, andsevere soft-t<strong>issue</strong> trauma. From his hospital bedScott urged his team mates to continue—which<strong>the</strong>y did, albeit shorthanded.Steve paddled<strong>the</strong> damaged kayakalone, and James Shedd,who had already provenhimself an accomplishedstill photographer, tookup Scott’s video cameraand continued shootingen route. <strong>The</strong> rest of <strong>the</strong>expedition’s long stretchesover open waterproved to be uneventfulexcept for numerous encounters with enormous,easily provoked walruses; <strong>the</strong> team was acutelyaware of <strong>the</strong>ir unpredictability and how easily <strong>the</strong>ycould destroy a kayak.After six weeks of kayaking down <strong>the</strong> coast, <strong>the</strong>team arrived at its destination on Cape Sabineand met up with Gino, Tom, Simon, and me. Wewere all very moved to see <strong>the</strong> remains of CampClay where so many men had suffered and died inmisery. As a final tribute to Greely and his men, weheld a brief ceremony on Cemetery Ridge where<strong>the</strong> first of <strong>the</strong> many to die were buried.I read a passage to <strong>the</strong> team from Greely’sown Book of Common Prayer—lent to us by JaneGreely—which he had used to conduct Sundayservices and to bury his party’s dead. Our lastact before leaving was to unfurl <strong>the</strong> <strong>Explorers</strong><strong>Club</strong> Flag at <strong>the</strong> plaque placed at Camp Clay byCommander Donald Macmillan for <strong>the</strong> NationalGeographic Society in 1924.To this day, <strong>the</strong> question of cannibalism andwho participated remains unresolved. We foundGreely’s tent site and <strong>the</strong> burial ground—CemeteryRidge—only a few meters apart. It seems inconceivablethat bodies could have been neatly dissectedwithout being observed by at least some of <strong>the</strong> survivors.Perhaps Greely himself was so incapacitatedthat he was unable to get out of <strong>the</strong> tent. We willnever know for sure just what happened.From our retrace of his route, it was clearthat Greely’s expedition was a extraordinary accomplishment,considering <strong>the</strong> time of year, <strong>the</strong>limitations in equipment, and <strong>the</strong> relative inexperienceof Greely and his men. In his memoir, ThreeYears of Arctic Service, Greely noted, “<strong>The</strong> retreatfrom Fort Conger to Cape Sabine involved overfour hundred miles’ travel by boats, and fully ahundred with sledge and boat; <strong>the</strong> greater partof which was madeunder circumstances ofsuch great peril or imminenceof danger asto test to <strong>the</strong> utmost <strong>the</strong>courage, coolness, andendurance of any party,and <strong>the</strong> capacity of anycommander.”Despite a great dealof subsequent criticism,<strong>the</strong> fact remains thatGreely accomplished hismission, bringing all of his records and supplies toCape Sabine. His records, meticulously tabulatedin a large two-volume report, were eventually compiledby NOAA, along with data collected by <strong>the</strong>o<strong>the</strong>r expeditions of <strong>the</strong> First International PolarYear—information contained within <strong>the</strong> baselinefor studies now being carried out under <strong>the</strong> aegisof <strong>the</strong> Fourth International Polar Year. Had <strong>the</strong>War Department completed <strong>the</strong>ir mission and left<strong>the</strong> promised supplies, Greely no doubt wouldhave been able to winter over without loss of life.As late as 1924, an article in <strong>the</strong> New York Timescriticized <strong>the</strong> expedition as being a tragic wasteof time. In a furious response Greely replied thatit was not a “pole-seeking <strong>adventure</strong>,” but a scientificenterprise, and “<strong>the</strong> Greely expedition was anextraordinary success. <strong>The</strong> relief expeditions managedfrom Washington were ghastly failures.”biographyA member of <strong>The</strong> <strong>Explorers</strong> <strong>Club</strong> since 1988, Geoffrey E. Clark,M.D., is a retired gastroenterologist and entrepreneur fromPortsmouth, NH. He has traveled extensively in <strong>the</strong> CanadianArctic doing research and reconnaissance for <strong>the</strong> productionof <strong>the</strong> highly acclaimed film, Abandoned in <strong>the</strong> Arctic.<strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> <strong>journal</strong>