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Authors: Eric Walters

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Within a few minutes we were moving, led by the Captain. I was troubled by the direction we were taking. Rather than aiming straight for land we were angling sharply off to the side. The island was almost parallel to our direction of travel so we'd have to cover much more ice before we could finally touch the land. At least travelling over the ice was better than falling through it.

I kept on glancing sideways at the island. At first it didn't seem to be getting any closer. At one point I even imagined it was fading into the distance. Then almost at once it seemed we were right beside the island. We were travelling along the ice, running parallel to a high, grey, rocky cliff marking the shore. In between was a wide stretch of dark, open water and I could hear the waves crashing against the rocks. I was sure it was much too rough to even consider rafting over on an ice boat, but I didn't see any other way across it. We continued to hear the sound of the ice cracking underneath us. I wished we could move farther back, away from the
water's edge. Looking forward I thought the cliff didn't seem so high.

We rounded a bluff. Stretching out before us was a blanket of white extending as far as I could see. I couldn't tell where the ice ended and the shore began, but it was clear there was no open water in between.

The men started yelling. It was apparent to everybody there was a bridge of ice stretching out before us, leading to land. Up ahead I could see the Captain had brought his komatik to a stop. Why had he stopped now?

Our sled came to rest right beside the Captain.

“Why are we stopping?” asked Mr. Hadley.

“'Cause we're here,” Captain Bartlett replied.

“Here? You mean …”

“Welcome ta Wrangel Island.”

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Six

I 
COULD FEEL THE HEAT
against my face. I'd never seen a bonfire this big. It was more than ten feet across and the fingers of fire reached up into the sky at least twice as high. Little embers floated up into the heavens. The snow and ice had melted away all around the fire, exposing a circle of gravel. Twice, as the fire continued to grow larger, I moved farther away, rolling back the rock which was my chair. Jonnie sat beside me as I stared at the flames—reds and yellows and oranges and blues. The vivid dancing colours were so beautiful after seeing nothing but whites and greys for so many months.

Most of the men had taken off their parkas. Two had even stripped off their tops and were undressed from the waist up. Looking at them and the fire you would have thought you were somewhere else, down south, far away from the ice. Perhaps it wasn't just me who was dreaming.

“STAND BACK!” a voice came booming out of the darkness. “MORE WOOD COMIN' T'ROUGH!”

Three men came into the blazing light of the fire carrying bundles of driftwood. As they tossed their loads into the flames, sparks and ashes billowed into the sky. When the Captain strolled into the light, the men rose to
their feet, slapped him on the back, and pumped his hand.

The Captain came towards us. “Jonathan, can ya excuse me an' Helen for a couple of minutes?”

“A course, sir,” Jonnie said and rose to his feet.

I squeezed over to give the Captain more space on the rock beside me. What did he want to say to me? He sat down and stared straight ahead into the fire, not talking. I felt myself getting more and more anxious. I needed to break the silence.

“I've never seen a fire this big before.”

“Nice fire. Men needed the fire ta warm their bodies ... an' their souls.”

“It feels so nice to have the heat against my face.”

“I didn't think there was this much driftwood on the whole beach. Before the night is over there won't be a stick of wood anywhere near here.”

“But won't we need some wood for later?” I asked.

“Nope. There's plenty of driftwood all along the coast an' we'll only be stayin' here for the night.”

“And tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow we start ta move. North an' south.”

“North and south?”

“North of here about forty miles or so is where the whalin' station is located. It's on Roger's Harbour. That's where the main party is headin'.”

“Main party? What main party?”

“Both sleds, one komatik, sixteen dogs, most of the supplies, all the men save two. Mr. Hadley will be leadin'.”

“Mr. Hadley? But why won't you be in charge?” Of course I knew the answer before the words had fully
escaped my mouth. The Captain was one of the two men going elsewhere.

“How long before you rejoin the main party?”

There was a long pause.

“I won't be comin' back, Helen.”

“What do you mean you won't be coming back!” I shouted as I rose to my feet.

He reached up and took my hand. “Sit back down.” I tried to pull free but he held me firmly in his grip. “Please,” he said quietly as he released me from his hold.

I thought, for just a second, about walking away, but I didn't. I stood there.

“Me an' Kataktovick are headed back onta the ice.” “What do you mean? Why would you head back onto the ice. We're on land, we're safe!”

“Helen, there's no guarantee the whalers are comin' this summer. Some years they get their fill of whales farther south and don't come to the island. I can't risk having us stay here another year ... or two. I have ta leave.”

“But ... but where are you going to?”

“Siberia. She's about two hundred miles away.”

“But that's farther than we've travelled since the ship sank!”

“The two of us can travel fast ... a lot faster than the whole bunch of us tagether. We'll be headin' out with first light, tamorrow.”

“Tomorrow! Couldn't you wait a few days?”

“Can't. We have ta make it before the ice breaks up any more. It'll take us twenty days or more ta make the mainland. Then another twenty or so days till we travel down
the coast ta the Bering Strait. There we can cable over ta Alaska and arrange fer a rescue ship.” He stood up and reached out a hand. “Do ya understand why I have ta do this, Helen?”

“All I understand,” I sobbed, “is that you're leaving us behind too.” I ran off to my tent.

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Seven

T
HE VOICES FLOATED
though the thin walls of the shelter. Above the voices came the irregular yelps, barks and snarls of the dogs. They were always disagreeable when they were being put into harness.

I was alone, lying down. Everyone else was outside. I didn't need to look to know they would be clustered around the one komatik, helping to put the dogs in harness, loading the supplies, tying down the lines, and waiting. Waiting for them to leave. I'd had enough of people leaving, enough of them never coming back. I couldn't stop them from going, but I didn't have to be there to watch.

I closed my eyes and rolled over, away from the light. If I could just go back to sleep they'd be gone before I woke up again. I tried to put my mind in a happy place, to think about something else.

“Helen?”

I turned around. Captain Bartlett was partway into the tent.

“Is it okay for me ta come in?”

I didn't answer. He came in anyway.

“I just wanted ta say goodbye before I left.”

He walked across the tent and sat down on the skins beside me.

“I hope ya understand, Helen. I have no choice, I have ta go. No more choice than ya had when ya saved Michael from the polar bear.”

I sat up.

“Out on the ice that night ya was in charge of your brother ... the leader. A leader does what has ta be done. Same way I have ta go now. Understand?”

I nodded my head but knew this wasn't about understanding or not understanding. I just didn't want to let him go.

“I'm goin' ta miss ya. Miss sittin' down and sharin' a cup of coffee, or a game of chess, or talkin',” he paused and smiled. “Or your stories. Always liked hearin'ya tell stories.”

I could feel myself start to blush. “Will I ever see you again?”

“Of course ya will! Once we all get back I'll come on up an' see ya and your mamma an' brother. Would ya like that?”

“I'd like that. I'd like that a lot.”

He stood up and then offered me a hand. He pulled me to my feet. “I haven't ever spent much time with kids. I have some nieces an' nephews, but I'm always away on the seas. No kids of my own... someday I might. If I do, I hope one can be a little girl ... a little girl who grows up special ... as special as Helen.”

I threw my arms around him and buried my head into his chest. I felt the tears start to flow again.

“Now, now, now ... no need for tears.”

“I don't want to say goodbye,” I sobbed.

“Then don't. No goodbyes ... just see ya later ...

that's all.”
He held me at arm's length and tilted his head to one side, studying me. “Ya've come a long way, Helen.”

“I guess we all have. Hundreds of miles.”

“I'm not talkin' 'bout the distance. I'm talkin' 'bout a different kind of journey. I remember a little girl who came onta my ship a few short months ago. Nose buried in a book, afraid of her own shadow.”

“I'm still scared.”

“Be foolish not ta be scared. Don't ya think I've been scared?” “You?”

He nodded his head. “Still am, but that doesn't stop me. The test of a person isn't that they don't get scared, but that they don't let the fear stop them from doing what needs ta be done.” He paused. “Do ya think ya could do me a favour?”

“I guess so ... ”

“Ya see, me and Kataktovick are goin' ta be on the ice a long time. Just the two of us.”

I had no idea what he was going to ask.

“Well, ya know he's a fine fella but he doesn't talk much, not much more than a few words at a time. It's goin' ta be cold ... no time ta build proper shelters either. Blowing snow, ice, wind whipping up spray off the open water.”

“But how can I help?”

“Tell me one of your stories.”

“You want me to tell you a story?”

“Yeah, a good one.”

“I ... I don't know ... it just seems like I don't have any stories left ... it feels like I've told every story I've ever heard.”

“None?”

I shook my head. “None.”

“I guess I'll get by with the ones I keep up here,” he said, tapping his head with one finger. “Come, it's time.”

I followed him outside. There were still embers burning in the big fire pit. Everyone was gathered around the komatik. Kataktovick was beside Michael, leaning over, talking to him. I knew Michael would miss him, probably almost as much as I'd miss the Captain. I stood slightly back from the crowd and took in the scene. Farewells, words, handshakes and hugs were exchanged.

Kataktovick roused the dogs and they rose to their feet, ready to go. I looked at the Captain and he motioned for me to come to his side.

“Helen, ya was wrong.”

I looked at him, completely mystified.

“Ya got at least one more story in ya. Ya just lived an adventure ... an adventure where people did things beyond belief, where men, an' a woman, an' two children refused ta stop. Where a young girl disobeyed her Captain an' returned ta a sinkin' ship ta get her diary, an' challenged a bear ta rescue her brother, an' nearly froze ta death ta save the dogs that saved everyone's life. An' this story is just a little part of a bigger story, the story of your life, the story you're living right now. Don't ever forget ya have the power ta change the pages, to make the ending different. It'll make a fine story.” He smiled and then signalled Kataktovick. Kataktovick yelled out to the dogs and the team started to move.

I turned away. I didn't want to watch them disappear. I walked back to my tent and sat down on the skins.

He was gone, but he'd left me something, something to help mark the time, the months that would pass before we were finally rescued.

I reached into my backpack and pulled out my diary, the pen and the bottle of ink. Some of the pages of the diary were torn and its cover was weathered. As I leafed through the pages, I found that more than half were already filled. I stopped at the first blank sheet. I dipped my pen in the thick ink.

 

The carriage travelled slowly through the streets…

 

 

Postscript

R
OBERT BARTLETT AND KATAKTOVICK
travelled over shifting sea ice for seventeen days before they set foot on the shores of Siberia. After taking a few days to recuperate with the Siberian Inuit, they continued on their four-hundred-mile trek through the wilderness to reach the Bering Strait. From there they sent a telegram to Alaska to report the wreck of the
Karluk
and the location of the survivors. They then secured a boat to launch a rescue. The survivors, including Helen, Michael and their mother, were found on September 7, 1914.

Stefansson and the party of men who had left the
Karluk
on September 19, 1913, reached land and continued the expedition. They explored uncharted sections of the Canadian north and discovered four islands: Brock, Borden, Meighen and Lougheed. These were the last islands added to the map of the world.

The party of Alistair Mackay, Henri Beauchat, James Murray and Sandy Morrison perished on the ice. Their bodies were never found.

BOOK: Trapped in Ice
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