Franklin’s Lost Expedition — every man died, and the Inuit were right all along

In May 1845 the Royal Navy sent Sir John Franklin into the Canadian Arctic with two bomb vessels, HMS Erebus and HMS Terror, to complete the last unmapped link of the Northwest Passage. Every one of the 129 men aboard died. The ships were beset in the ice off King William Island in September 1846, were never freed, and were abandoned in April 1848. The survivors dragged boats and sledges south across the sea ice and the island toward the Back River and died strung out along the way, of cold, starvation, scurvy and the slow toxic accumulation of a flawed supply system. It remains the deadliest disaster in the history of polar exploration.

The expedition was, on paper, the best-equipped Arctic venture Britain had ever launched: three years of tinned provisions, steam engines, internal heating, libraries. It vanished into a region the Admiralty believed it understood and did not. No survivor was ever found, and no continuous written account survives beyond a single two-line note left under a cairn at Victory Point. That note, signed by Captains Francis Crozier and James Fitzjames, records that Franklin had died on 11 June 1847 and that 105 men deserted the ships on 22 April 1848 — the last dated word from anyone aboard.

What is known of the men’s final months comes not from the Navy but from the Inuit, who saw the survivors, who later found their bodies and their gear, and who told searchers plainly what had happened: men starving, men dying as they walked, and bodies that bore the marks of cannibalism among the last to live. The Hudson’s Bay surveyor John Rae carried that testimony back to Britain in 1854 and was vilified for it, most famously by Charles Dickens, who could not accept that British sailors might eat their dead and dismissed the Inuit as unreliable savages. The forensic record has since proved the Inuit account correct in nearly every particular. The same Inuit knowledge, carried in oral history for more than a century and a half, ultimately led searchers to the wrecks of Erebus in 2014 and Terror in 2016.

The Belgica Expedition — the first Antarctic winter nearly drove the crew mad

In August 1897 the Belgian naval officer Adrien de Gerlache sailed from Antwerp aboard the Belgica, a converted Norwegian whaler, with a crew of 19 drawn from five nations, intending to survey the Antarctic coast and press toward the South Magnetic Pole. In March 1898 the ship became trapped in the pack ice of the Bellingshausen Sea and could not be freed before winter. The Belgica thus became the first vessel ever to overwinter in Antarctic waters — not by design that the crew welcomed, but as a trap. Locked in the ice through the months-long polar night, the men were struck by scurvy, paralyzing depression and, in at least one case, insanity. Two died: one washed overboard before the ship was beset, one of a heart condition during the winter. The rest survived, and in March 1899, after sawing and blasting a channel through the floe, the Belgica broke free and limped home.

The expedition’s place in history is double-edged. It opened the Heroic Age of Antarctic exploration and proved that humans could survive a winter on the frozen Southern Ocean. It also served as a clinical demonstration of what that winter does to the unprepared body and mind: the slow assault of vitamin deficiency, the psychological collapse brought on by perpetual darkness and confinement, and the near-disintegration of a command structure as its officers fell ill. The ship was saved less by its nominal leadership than by two junior members — the American surgeon Frederick Cook and the young Norwegian first mate Roald Amundsen. As de Gerlache and the captain, Georges Lecointe, were laid low, Cook and Amundsen took charge, forcing the crew to eat fresh seal and penguin meat against the commander’s distaste, organizing the men against despair, and devising the scheme that finally cut the ship out of the ice. The Belgica is therefore both the first Antarctic winter and a case study in how a polar party survives one: by fresh food, enforced activity and the refusal to surrender to the dark.