In 1949, human skeletal remains discovered by RCMP Inspector Henry Larsen near Cape Felix, King William Island, Nunavut, were identified as an adult male of European ancestry and a member of the 1845 Franklin Northwest Passage Expedition. The identification has never been questioned and is considered significant to reconstructions of the fate of the Franklin expedition because the sailor’s death presumably pre-dated the desertion of HMS Erebus and HMS Terror in April 1848 and because no other human remains of expedition personnel have ever been found between Victory Point and Cape Felix. The aim of this study was to re-examine the basis on which the ancestry of the skeleton was interpreted to be European. A review of archival records revealed previously unpublished details concerning the location and context of the discovery, and re-assessments of the antiquity and of key morphological attributes of the bones suggest they are those of an adult male Inuk and have no connection to the 1845 Franklin expedition.
Sir Clements Markham (1830-1916), secretary of the Royal Geographical Society for many decades, is best known for his role in shaping the Heroic Age of Antarctic Exploration and especially the career of his protege Robert Falcon Scott. His unpublished work of Franklin Expedition fiction, a 350-page handwritten manuscript held in the collection of the RGS, is an understudied artefact which has much to say about Markham’s life, work, and ideology. A work of fact-based history, yet also a fantasy on themes of chivalry, his 1899 novel James Fitzjames…, while occasionally mined for biographical information by scholars of the 19th-century Arctic, has never been fully evaluated on its own terms. An initial read reveals various preoccupations: Christian spirituality; the male body in extremis; loyalty to the imperial hierarchy; and a deep interest in establishing James Fitzjames as a heroic figure for posterity. In this paper, I aim to uncover various meanings embedded in this romance, place it into the ongoing literary afterlife of the Franklin Expedition, and demonstrate some of the insights it can offer regarding Markham’s role as a vital figure in the history of polar exploration.
A scruffy piece of paper covered in notes and dated sketches of snowflake segments has been found caught between the pages of a later book in Whitby Museum’s Scoresby archive. The paper had been cut and folded to secure it round the ship Esk’s logbook. Close examination shows pencil drawing beneath the 22 ink sketches, which can be linked to entries for May 1817 in the logbook and matched to completed snowflakes from William Scoresby Junior’s 1820 book An Account of the Arctic Regions. This is almost certainly the first indication of Scoresby’s process for drawing snowflakes at sea.
The paper also contains jottings on many topics that Scoresby was considering including in his book. Comparing these with the published work, his later fact checking was clearly meticulous.
While much work on expertise has explored the mobilisation and production of knowledge, the development of epistemic communities, and the mechanisms through which expertise operates – little work has been done exploring how expertise is understood across academic literature on particular regional cases such as the Arctic. In this article, I scope a broad literature review of the Arctic, seeking out how expertise has been depicted and framed in academic and theoretical literature. The results are framed around five different themes: (1) expertise serving the interests of great powers, (2) recognition of the overall importance of expertise in Arctic governance, (3) the purpose of experts, (4) science diplomacy and expertise: a murky barrier, and (5) how to study experts, but also find that Indigenous knowledge is often left out of literature that relies upon Western frameworks of expertise. This incongruity suggests that there are two competing conceptualizations of Arctic expertise, one in theory and another in practice – which has consequences for how the region and its expertise are narrated.
Pringlea antiscorbutica (Brassicaceae) and Azorella polaris (syn. Stilbocarpa polaris, Apiaceae) are endemic sub-Antarctic flowering plants of significant ecological and historical importance. Pringlea antiscorbutica occurs on Îles Kerguelen and Crozet, Prince Edward, and the Heard and MacDonald Islands; A. polaris on Auckland, Campbell, and Macquarie Islands. We examine the use of these unrelated species of “wild cabbage,” as scurvy remedies and sustenance for eighteenth–nineteenth-century sailors. We trace their European discovery, taxonomic treatment, morphological representation, and cultural association through the historical record. Scurvy killed more sailors during the sixteenth-nineteenth centuries than armed conflict and shipwrecks combined. Both plants were essential to the survival of sailors and formed a nutritious, carbohydrate-rich staple of their diets, however, attitudes to these plants were strongly influenced by cultural background. Use of P. antiscorbutica as a scurvy remedy was promoted by Cook and Anderson, leading to a greater historical legacy than A. polaris, and a unique contemporary research focus on the plant’s nutritional value and cultivation potential. In contrast, contemporary studies of A. polaris have been directed primarily at the plant’s protection. Pringlea antiscorbutica and A. polaris are intrinsically linked to human associations with the sub-Antarctic islands, which further increases their cultural and conservation value.
The mysterious disappearance of HMS Erebus and HMS Terror while searching for the Northwest Passage under the leadership of Sir John Franklin in the 1840s led to more than thirty different expeditions seeking to find the lost ships and their 129-man crews. It also fostered the first and only use of wild animals as a means of communication in such a rescue operation. Since covering the vast search areas was challenging, if not impossible during sub-freezing winter conditions, some of the would-be rescuers turned to Arctic foxes as couriers of information that they hoped might direct the lost explorers to safety. Based on excerpts from the participants’ diaries and published reports from the period, and on the physical evidence that survives, this paper describes the role Arctic foxes were asked to play in one of the greatest (unsuccessful) rescue efforts ever undertaken in the Far North.