Showing posts with label amundsen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label amundsen. Show all posts

Sea Ice Ahoy! … Not Much; But It’s There

Tuesday, 20 January 2015
At Sea — Amundsen Sea
Position: 69°54’ S / 129°32’ W
Temps:  34F (1C) @ 7:30a (UTC-7)
Distance from Ushuaia: 2,542 NM (2,925 miles / 4,708 km)

The definition of an intellectual is someone who can listen to the
William Tell Overture and not think of the Lone Ranger.
Billy Connolly (Scottish comedian / musician / actor)

Finally, a good night’s rest … thanks Connie for sharing your private stash of Vicks.  It did wonders and except for one or two light fits of coughing, I slept through the night.  You can be sure that a small jar of Vicks will be part of our medical kit on future trips.

Our third day crossing the Amundsen Sea … we’re making good progress.

Oslo: Frammuseet

Friday, 15 July

"Victory awaits him, who has everything in order – luck we call it. Defeat is definitely due for him, who has neglected to take the necessary precautions – bad luck we call it."

Roald Amundsen

It’s a good thing that our plans jiggled yesterday and we did outdoor activities then instead of leaving them for today. We woke up a 180° change in the weather. Gone were the blue skies, sunshine, and warm temperature. Instead, we had a day that was reminiscent of our days in the Arctic — overcast. It wasn’t as cold as the Arctic, but the 55F (13C) was decidedly cooler than yesterday’s temps. The good news is that we did get sunshine breaking through during the day, and the drizzle was an off and on thing and fell mostly while we were indoors.

The three places we visited today are all on Bygdøy.

We left the hotel at 8:00a and made our way to the Rådhusbrygge (City Hall Wharf) to catch the first water taxi (8:45a) to Bygdøy (meaning “inhabited island”), a peninsula on the west side of Oslo. Our destination was the Frammuseet (Fram Museum). We had a feeling it would be crowded, so we wanted to get there when the doors opened at 9:00a. It was a strategy that worked in our favor. We had the museum to ourselves for the first hour; by 10:00a it was quite congested with tour groups arriving in droves.

The water taxi is a convenient means of travel between downtown Oslo and Bygdøy.

On the near empty water taxi, even our backpacks have seats of their own.

With a Costa cruise ship in town, Oslo is going to be even more crowded today.

The ride across the bay was short. Even with the dull light, the scenery was beautiful; moody would be a better description perhaps. Before long, we were approaching the small pier at the museum, which is dedicated to telling the story of Norwegian polar exploration. Named for the Fram, the purpose-built polar exploration ship that is the centerpiece of the museum, it was inaugurated in 1936.

I’m told that the shape of the museum has its origins in Viking times when old ships were
buried in triangular mounds.

The first thing we saw when we arrived at the museum was the Gjøa, another polar ship of note. The sloop was built in Norway in 1872. Named for the owner’s wife, it served as a fishing vessel until Amundsen purchased it in 1900 and converted it to a ship suitable for polar exploration. Three years later, with a crew of six, Amundsen embarked on what turned out to be the first successful transit of the much sought-after Northwest Passage. It took the men three years to complete the historic journey aboard the Gjøa. Three years after that (1909), the ship was placed in Golden Gate Park in San Francisco. It remained there until 1972, at which time it was returned to Norway. (Plans are underway to build an extension to the Frammuseet to house the Gjøa.)

Gjøa — from fishing vessel to polar exploration ship.

Christened in 1892, the Fram (meaning “forward”) was the first polar research vessel to be built in Norway. It was constructed to the exacting specifications of Fridtjof Nansen, a favorite son of Norway who made polar exploration history before Amundsen. The 128-foot (39 m) long vessel is best known for three expeditions written in the annals of polar history: with Nansen on a drift over the Arctic Ocean (1893-1896); with Otto Sverdrup to the arctic archipelago west of Greenland (1898-1902); and with Roald Amundsen to Antarctica for his South Pole expedition (1910-1912).

Standing next to the hull of the Fram, Nansen welcomes visitors to the museum and his ship.

I have to admit to a tingle that ran up my spine when I entered the museum and first set my eyes on the vessel. I was about to actually set foot aboard the ship that I had read so much about. Admittedly, the restored ship didn’t look exactly like the original from the outside, but the interior was all original, and I felt like I was walking with ghosts as I freely wandered above- and below-decks. Later, when we discussed our visit, Mui said he had a similar reaction.

Left: The first Fram Expedition (Nansen); Right: the third Fram Expedition (Amundsen).

Models of the Fram as she was during the first (left) and the third (right) expeditions.

The Fram — as it is today.
the ship was specifically designed to withstand the pressure of pack ice.

There’s reams of information to share about this historic vessel. I’ve put some links throughout this post for those interested in more information. In the meantime, here’s a quick tour of the ship through our eyes. In the cramped quarters below-decks, we were especially glad to have the ship to ourselves. Later, after the museum became more crowded, a second run-through of the ship proved quite frustrating.

First, above-decks …

Then, below-decks …

The officers’ cabins are used to display artifacts from the polar expeditions.

The diesel engine was added to the Fram by Amundsen in 1910.

After touring the ship, we spent a couple of hours browsing the exhibits on the balconies lining the four sides of the multi-story building. Taking pictures of the artifacts behind glass was challenging, so I took a few and then put the camera away to enjoy the displays.

Artifacts on display included those from Fram and other expeditions by sea and by air.

One entire floor of the museum was dedicated to a special exhibit entitled Cold Recall – Reflections of a Polar Explorer. The displays consisted of images made from the lantern slides Amundsen used in public lectures following his achievement of the South Pole. The words accompanying the images were abridged versions of his manuscript for the lectures. I haven’t bought much on this trip, but I simply couldn’t leave the museum without a copy of the published version of Cold Recall; I’m looking forward to reading it on the flight back to the US tomorrow.

Top Left (Top): fram and Robert Scott’s Terra nova in the Bay of Whales.
top Left (bottom): emperor penguins on the barrier.
Top right: ready for the start of the polar journey on 20 October 2011.
Bottom Left: Amundsen, Hassel, Hanssen & Wisting at Polheim (Pole Home) at the South Pole.
(photo taken by Bjaaland, the other member of the pole party.)
bottom right (top): hoisting the flag at Ernest shackleton’s furthest south.
bottom right (Bottom): Depot at 80° south on 23 October 1911.

Note: Here’s how the Library of Congress describes lantern slides: “The introduction of lantern slides in 1849, ten years after the invention of photography, allowed photographs to be viewed in an entirely new format. As a transparent slide projected onto a surface, the photograph could be seen, not only by individuals and small groups, but also by a substantial audience. This new larger scale expanded the utility of photography, changing it from an intimate medium to one that was appropriate to entertainment and educational purposes.”

I have to say that this was one place from which we found it particularly difficult to pull ourselves away. It is a “must-do” for anyone who has an interest in polar exploration history. We could have easily spent the entire day there. Two things helped us to move on: the crowds that started showing up around 10:00a; and the next must-see destination that was on our list for the day. But that’s for the next post.

Shortly after noon, we left the Fram Museum, wandered over to the open space behind the building, and had a quick al fresco lunch with the PB&J sandwiches and grapes we’d brought with us. Oh, and a chocolate bar too! The weather was still so-so, but at least it wasn’t drizzling. And we had good company, even though we refused to share but a few crumbs of our meager lunch with them.

A quick break for lunch before we continue onto another museum.

The black-headed gulls were quiet, but the sparrows were quite vociferous about wanting to share our lunch; they had to make do with whatever crumbs fell to the ground.

Onto the next museum …

Around Tromsø: Polarmuseet

Saturday, July 2 (part III)

After wandering around town (post here) and crossing over to mainland Norway to visit the Arctic Ocean Cathedral (post here), we rounded out our day of sightseeing at the Polarmuseet (Polar Museum).

I’ve said it before: we’re not museum people; not really. If there is a collection of material on a topic that is near and dear to our hearts — well, that’s a different story. We’ll visit such exhibits and browse through the displays … sometimes for hours on end. And that’s what we did at the Polar Museum, even though our time there was cut short by the hordes that eventually overran the small museum.

Tromsø was established in the late 1800s as the “Gateway to the Arctic.” Not only was it the center of seal hunting in North Norway, it also served as the base for many polar expeditions — scientific and otherwise. Housed in a historic Customs warehouse that dates back to the 1830s, the museum takes visitors back to those times. It opened on 18 June 1978, a date that has considerable Polar significance. It was on this date 50 years before that Roald Amundsen left Tromsø to search for Umberto Nobile, lost in the polar region aboard the airship Italia. Nobile was found several days later; tragically, Amundsen and his crew didn’t make it back. (Ironically, Nobile died in Rome in 1978, the same year the museum opened.)

Outside the Polarmuseet are artifacts from the days of whaling, such as whaling guns and a pot used to boil down whale blubber.

After paying the 50 NOK ($9.25) per person admission fee, we set about browsing through the rooms filled with “… exhibits on the first hunters on Svalbard; the trappers of polar bears, polar foxes, and seals, who wintered in the icy wasteland. Everyday articles, utensils, and a wealth of other material left by hunters, whalers and sealers around Northern Norway…” (Description from the DK Guide).

The practice of hunting to the point of decimating whole populations of wildlife is abhorrent to us. Much of our time studying these exhibits was spent trying to understand this chapter in human history. An impossible task. I get it that times were different then, but … words fail me. We can only hope that mankind has learned its lesson and won’t repeat the errors of its ways — at least in this regard.

How can anyone raise a gun or a sealing pick at an animal when it looks at you like this?

The first room at the museum contains a trappers’ hut, complete with life-size mannequins. The hut was built in 1910 as the main station for five trappers in Wijdefjord (Svalbard). Used regularly until 1936, it was built of Siberian drift wood and insulated with moss.

The "shutter trap" was the most common method used to hunt foxes.

The next room we went into was dedicated to sealing. Life-size exhibits showed the working boats and the methods used to hunt seals. Each boat had a crew of three or more, and each man had a specific duty. The rower, sitting in the aft, was responsible for ensuring that the boat moved quietly towards the unsuspecting seals. The man sitting in the middle pushed the ice aside when the going became difficult; he was also the one who jumped out onto the ice to kill baby seals using a “hakapik” (sealing pick). The rifleman sat in the bow. (There was no explanation as to his responsibilities — I imagine he shot seals that were in range, and was likely the bear guard as I’m sure there was competition for the seals from the polar bears.)

The adjoining room displayed skins and/or stuffed seals representing the seven species of seals that are found in Norwegian waters: walrus, grey, harbor, harp, hooded, bearded, and ringed.

There was a lot more to see on the ground floor, but it was starting to get crowded. We didn’t want to miss out on the area we’d actually come to see, so we moved upstairs. Here we found an extensive collection of material on early polar research, especially the work of Amundsen and Nansen (no surprise since both were Norwegian). My only regret is that the displays were behind glass and photography was a lot more difficult.

We started out in the room dedicated to Roald Amundsen …

Amundsen (1872-1928)

Display case filled with artifacts from the South Pole Expedition of 1910-1912, including a flag, a cup from the Fram, and clothes belonging to Hjalmar Johansen.

before leaving the South Pole on 18 December 1911, Amundsen and his men pitched a small tent with a Norwegian flag flying atop.
[photo of a historic photograph]

Sled dogs were a key partner in polar exploration.

Amundsen, Ellsworth, and Nobile flew over the polar sea in 1926 aboard the airship Norge.
Starting in Ny-Ålesund (Svalbard) they flew to Alaska.

Our intent was to next move onto the exhibits about Fridtjof Nansen — polar explorer, zoologist, oceanographer, diplomat, and humanist. Unfortunately, it was at about this time that we really started to battle the tour-bus crowds. The temperature inside the museum had been overly warm all along. With so many people in there at one time, it became downright unbearable. Eventually, we retreated, but first …

the Nansen exhibit. The kayak in the foreground is a replica of the one Hjalmar Johansen used in the first voyage of the Fram (1893-1896). When he and Nansen had to abandon their goal to reach the north pole, it was the original of this kayak that took him (nansen had his own kayak) to the safety of Franz Josef Land where they built a stone hut in which to survive the severe winter.

As we walked out the door, I couldn’t resist taking this shot of a journal kept by the 1962 Swiss Expedition to Magdalene-Fjorden on Spitsbergen (Svalbard).

Good to see that travel “blogging” was alive and well even back then; it just required paper and pencil instead of the modern day digital tools. Simpler — for sure. More fun — well, that depends on your point of view, doesn’t it?