68
double-bottomed in the forward section. She is very distinctive, with
a center wheelhouse and coach roof painted bright yellow with a gray
hull below, and is instantly recognized in the Arctic and Antarctic and
many places around the globe.
This was to be a major expedition. The boat had to be prepared for
every eventuality as we had no idea whether this was going to be the
year when a transit might be possible, the worst scenario being that we
get frozen in with no escape until a thaw the following year.
DAVID WAS BUSY WITH THE PREPARATIONS for our departure.
This included organizing his vast library of charts, putting together his
specially printed logbooks—which were enormously cumbersome and
heavy—and gathering and sorting electronic equipment, tools and au-
dio devices. Also among his equipment was a rifle.
Meanwhile I had my own agenda: closing my house, seeing to neces-
sary paperwork, making a new will and notifying my relations of my
plans. I also felt very vulnerable about the rifle. I did not have the slight-
est clue how to load it, how to cock it, and least of all how to fire it. And
I didn’t like the idea of facing up to a polar bear without one. I was
not going to provide Brumas with dinner without at least an attempt
at self-defense. So I went to what I thought was a shooting school to
ask if they would give me lessons in handling a rifle. The place I had in
mind turned out to be nothing more than a rifle range, and they were
not able to help. All I could do was hope that David would be on hand
to come to my rescue.
The layout of the after-cabin was fairly conventional, except that
against the hull on either side were two out-berths, which David chose
to refer to as “coffin berths.” These are specifically designed to embrace
you snugly. Any attempt to turn over is not to be too readily undertaken
as you are virtually packaged in a box. Should the whole ship be thrown
over, you would quite likely remain in position, only inverted. The salon
area was otherwise fairly standard with settee berths in a semi-circular
curve around a fixed, drop-flap salon table with fiddles.
I took more of an interest in the cooking arrangements and the storage
of the galley essentials. There were two stoves, neither of them gimballed
to remain horizontal when the boat is not, but they were athwartships,
considered to be the steadiest place, and located as near to the midships
position as space would allow. There were also four detachable curved
stainless steel arms that could be screwed on to a surrounding rail to
firmly embrace the pan you were using. The Dickinson cast-iron stove
was to be the hub of our home, giving out heat around the clock, should
it be needed, and fed by diesel; this had two hobs and an oven below, the
door of which was warped. Adjacent was the Wallis, a paraffin stove with
single ring. There was a double stainless-steel sink with cupboards be-
low. The sink had a fresh water pump and a saltwater pump too. To one
side was a stainless steel lifting worktop secured with a piece of shock
cord on a nasty, sharp hook; below was our very small fridge. Softening
the general feeling of masculinity was a carpeted cabin sole, which had
seen heavy usage, and four small watercolors of old paddle steamers.
Opposite the galley was the head—a stainless-steel sink with cup-
board below and a shower hooked above. We only carried 65 gallons of
fresh water, and I washed in the galley in saltwater. As for the loo, it was
always something of an embarrassment to retreat there on an important
mission. However, we were soon to get used to one another, and the
noise of the Gardner engine could be relied upon to drown out every-
thing anyway.
There is nothing quite so uncomfortable as living aboard a boat up on
dry land with no facilities. Every visit to the loo had to be a long descent
down the ladder alongside, being careful not to put one’s feet into the
securing ropes, and usually with hands full of buckets, and then a walk
across the sharp stones of the yard to the washroom area, which the yard
was kind enough to allow us to use. These sharp stones are what are laid
on railway tracks, and are extremely uncomfortable to walk on.
There was a plentiful supply of Christmas puddings which had
made the journey around the world at least once, quite probably twice,
and vast quantities of apple dumplings with custard in razor-sharp foil
packs. These were apparently ex-Army rations. David kept telling me
that the British Army went to war on them, so they should be good
enough for me. There were also a number of extremely heavy boxes
full of Frugrains, which resembled dried twigs and were packed in cel-
lophane. These were to prove a real challenge; they were chewy and
unpalatable, and impossible to surreptitiously stuff back into the aged
packaging, which crackled and tore. David said how good they were
and tucked in with gusto, though I noticed that even his enthusiasm
waned as time went on. He reminded me that Sir John Franklin had
eaten his own boots on a sledging expedition he had made in the early
nineteenth century. For the sake of family honor, I would keep myDeep coats of frozen ice on the foredeck is a small price to pay to
experience this largely untouched piece of the earth.continued on page 87