Taissumani, Dec. 23
Christmas on the Karluk
To those who explored the Arctic a century ago, especially those shipbound in areas where they did not encounter Inuit, Christmas could be a lonely and cheerless time. But the sailors made the most of their situations, and did whatever they could to alleviate the isolation with homemade entertainments and festivities that mimicked as closely as possible the Christmas they might have had at home.
Stefansson’s Canadian Arctic Expedition explored in the western Canadian Arctic from 1913 until 1918. During a gale in the Arctic Ocean in 1913, the Karluk, locked in the ice pack, began a westward drift which was to last for three months until the ship sank north of Siberia in January.
Over 60 years later, William Laird McKinlay, magnetician and meteorologist on the expedition, published an account of his time aboard that ship. In it, he tells of how he passed the Christmas of 1913 fast in the Arctic ice, with thoughts of home, but at peace in his frozen environment.
“My feeling of calm, even happy resignation, took me right through the week of continuous gales, which battered our ship from 18 December until 24 December, raging up to eighty miles an hour and blinding us with snowdrift. There seemed to be every prospect of a very white Christmas, and everything else was pushed into the background of our minds as we prepared for celebrating Christmas Day. Williamson and I had prepared a programme of sports which we hoped to carry out on the ice. On Christmas Eve, when the wind moderated to a fresh breeze, we laid out a course for flat and obstacle races, making areas for jumping, shot-putting, and so on. It was impossible to find completely level patches, so our stadium was far short of Olympic standards, but by dinner-time on Christmas Eve we had everything ready. The Christmas spirit was taking hold, and when the Captain produced a bottle of whisky for the boys for’ard, and another for our mess, there were loud cheers. Officially we carried no intoxicating liquor, but we had a case of whisky on board intended as a gift from Stefansson to the Royal North-West Mounted Police when we reached Herschel. There were many requests for the tots of the teetotalers – Captain, Malloch and myself. I put mine up to the cut of the cards, and Mate Sandy Anderson won. There was a lot of laughter and joking, and for the first time in ages everyone was really looking forward to the next day.
“At 5:30 a.m. on Christmas morning, Williamson, Anderson and I got busy decorating the saloon. We dug out the stock of international flags and hung them from the deck above, draping them all round the walls. Then, with ribbon which Hadley had meant for trading with the Eskimos in Banks land, we dressed everything we could in red, white and blue. On a large piece of sail canvas we painted Christmas greetings and suspended it opposite the Skipper’s end of the table. Behind his chair we draped the Canadian ensign. The result looked really festive and the boys coming in for breakfast were pleasantly surprised.
“After breakfast we held our sports. It was bitterly cold, and muffled up as we were, slithering about and crashing on the ice, there was more likelihood of bones than records being broken. But the hazards brought out hidden resources of skill and agility. There were many minor injuries, but nothing serious, and after a rest we assembled in the saloon to eat our Christmas dinner. I had typed copies of the menu, which everyone tucked away carefully afterwards as a souvenir.”
The menu listed mixed pickles, sweet pickles, oyster soup, lobster, bear steaks, ox tongue, potatoes, green peas, asparagus and cream sauce, mince pies, plum pudding, mixed nuts, tea, cake and strawberries. It ended with the words, “God rest you, merry gentlemen.”
McKinlay continued his Christmas reminiscence, “When we were all seated Captain Bartlett produced another bottle of whisky and passed it round. In his own, Malloch’s and my glass, he poured just a drop, whispering to us to follow his example. Then, ‘Fellows’, he said, ‘I want you to drink one toast. Stand, please.’ And as we stood up and held our glasses high, he led us in the toast – ‘To the loved ones at home.’ It was a solemn moment, and we were all very quiet for a few moments. Our thoughts were thousands of miles away.
“It was a splendid meal, and when it was over the Captain produced one of the boxes of ‘goodies’ presented by the good ladies of Victoria for Christmas and New Year – cake, shortbread, cigars and sweets. After that we were fit for nothing but lying on our bunks for the rest of the day. In the evening we sat around smoking and listening to the gramophone. We felt we ought to be doing something festive, but the euphoria had gone, we had all over-eaten, and one by one we crept off to bed.”
Merry Christmas.
Taissumani recounts a specific event of historic interest. Kenn Harper is a historian, writer and linguist who lives in Iqaluit. Feedback? Send your comments and questions to .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address).
