‘Lost in this place, and leave no trace…’

Night and day I scan

horizon, sea and sky

My spirit wanders endlessly

Until the day will dawn and

friends from home discover why

Hear me calling, rescue me…

Yes, there’s an Iron Maiden song for that. In this case it is 1986’s “Stranger in a Strange Land,” loosely based on the 1980s rediscovery and excavation/autopsy of the first three men to die on Sir John Franklin’s infamous and doomed Arctic expedition that set out from England in 1845 to find the Northwest Passage.

My favourite band (I don’t think there’s any denying that now) has led me down some very interesting historical paths as I delve further and further into their extensive discography. But Franklin’s lost expedition was one that I was already quite familiar with. I first picked up a book about the subject around the age of 12 at the Howick Central School library, and I was immediately transfixed with this tragic and fascinating tale. I’ve written about this in the past I’m quite sure, but I can’t get enough.

The two ships at the centre of the story, HMS Erebus and HMS Terror, were abandoned off the coast of King William Island after they became locked in ice in the Canadian Arctic in 1847-48 and were not seen again until their discovery in 2014 and 2016, respectively. After a painstaking delay because of the pandemic, researchers and divers have been gradually able to return to the wreck sites; a recent announcement earlier in December revealed that 275 artifacts had been pulled from Erebus over the last several months.

I’m excited to hear if anything was found that would help shed some light on what remains one of the great mysteries of the 19th century, despite the discovery of the two ships themselves, thanks largely in part to the account of Inuit observers dating back over 150 years. Up until the finding of the two wrecks in less than 100 feet of water, both ships and their 129 men had seemingly vanished without a trace, with the exception of John Hartnell, William Blaine and John Torrington (the latter whom the Maiden song refers to, and whom scientists agree was the first to perish on the expedition), whose graves were found on a tony spit of land known as Beechey Island, just south of Devon Island.

Dozens of overland and sea ‘rescue expeditions’ were launched in the 1850s and the years that followed after it became apparent that Franklin and company were not coming back. It’s now widely believed that after abandoning their two ice-locked vessels in 1848, the majority of the remaining crew complement (Franklin himself died the previous summer) attempted an overland journey to the Back River in the Northwest Territories, a staggering distance of roughly 1,100 kilometres.

It’s difficult to fathom this undertaking, with the freezing, starving men dragging their dwindling supplies on a heavy sledge across one of the harshest terrains and through one of the most unforgiving climates on the planet. It’s believed that perhaps a third of the remaining crew actually managed to reach the Canadian mainland before succumbing to starvation. Later expeditions also revealed evidence of cannibalism at the site known as Starvation Cove, where knife marks were found on some of the bones of the first to die. Despite the horrendous conditions, the last survivors were still able to transverse a distance of approximately 400 km.

There are obviously many things that went wrong with the expedition from the onset. The most glaring has to be that the British were not fully prepared for the array of difficulties they would face in the Arctic. Yes, the Erebus and Terror were outfitted with the most modern technology of the time – namely rudimentary internal heating systems powered by their recently-installed steam-powered engines that could help drive the ships forward by a single propeller. This would have little advantage against the thick sea ice they expected to encounter, ice that ultimately failed to release its grip on the vessels even through the warmer months of 1847.

The crews were also well stocked with thousands of tinned food items, a relatively new concept of the time. However, it was later revealed that the cans were poorly soldered with lead, which over time seeped into the food itself, slowly poisoning the men.

Arrogance certainly played a role in the Franklin expedition’s failure as well. The crews were simply not outfitted with clothing appropriate for temperatures that would regularly plummet to 50-below. The Inuit were likely the only people of the era properly equipped to survive and thrive in the Arctic year-round.

British zeal at finding a northern trade route to East Asia was in no short supply to be sure, but the failure to properly respect and prepare for the harsh geography of the region ultimately claimed everyone in Franklin’s ranks, right down to the last man. The idea of being the first to find the Northwest Passage was no doubt a strong motivator and an exciting venture, but being the first also meant you were taking on an enterprise frought with danger.

It’s tough to scratch the surface of all the facts and theories that comprise this particular point in history in just a few hundred words. If I’ve peaked your interest, I encourage you to do your own investigating into the subject; there are countless quality online sources to delve into. I’ll let Maiden close things out for me:

Stranger in a strange land

Land of ice and snow

Trapped inside this prison

Lost and far from home.

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Thanks for reading and I’ll see you all in 2023. This is a bi-weekly opinion column; for question or comment contact Dan McNee at dmcnee@midwesternnewspapers.com.

Interim Editor