Four Degrees Celsius (3 page)

Since conventional wisdom among bush pilots maintained that flights into the Arctic should never be attempted singly, MacAlpine decided to postpone his expedition until the replacement aircraft arrived from Western Canada Airways. This was the Fokker Super Universal G-CASK, piloted by Roy Brown (not Buchanan as originally expected). But, en route, 'SK was hampered by forest fire smoke and developed carburetor trouble, so it did not arrive in Churchill until September 6. This delay put the expedition even further into the in-between season before freeze-up, when takeoff and landing would be impossible. Most planes flying into the Barrens landed on lakes, which required floats to stay afloat in the summer or skis to land on snow or ice in winter. During the in-between season a plane could not land safely. Neither of the MacAlpine expedition planes had skis, which would be needed once the lakes froze. In the autumn, even ground travel became difficult, if not impossible. The ice frequently wasn't thick enough to hold the weight of a human being, and travel by boat was risky, hampered by shifts in weather, which could whip up the water and swamp small vessels.

Such concerns were far from the pilots' minds on September 7 as they took off, aiming to reach Chesterfield, 230 miles to the northeast. After refuelling there, they decided to spend the night and they had a “good party,” sharing their food, cigarettes, and chocolate bars freely with the residents — a show of generosity they would later regret. Major Robert “Bob” Baker joined the group, hitching a ride to the Domex base in Bathurst Inlet, where he would take over as manager and the expedition would restock their supplies. This brought their number to eight.

As the planes readied for takeoff on September 8, 'SK developed carburetor icing — a common and sometimes deadly problem among bush planes because of the North's high humidity, which caused high condensation in the carburetor. As a plane rose into the air, colder temperatures froze the condensation, reducing or even blocking fuel intake. The carburetor icing delayed them until 5:30 p.m. The pilots encountered snow squalls and turbulence with increasing intensity and ferocity and only succeeded in reaching Beverly Lake before the last light. It began to rain, and the men split into two groups — one spending a wet, uncomfortable night in a tent and the other a cramped, uncomfortable night in the cargo area of one of the planes.

September 9 saw more setbacks. Storms began to blow and visibility became poor. Relying on their magnetic compasses at such a high latitude posed another problem, since their position near the North Pole rendered these devices unreliable, owing to the difference between true and magnetic north. They were now in the region on maps called the “area of compass unreliability.”
[7]
The navigators had been using sun compasses, but frequently the sun was behind storm clouds and could not be seen, making this form of navigation almost impossible as well. These navigational limitations were a serious matter, especially since the terrain below was both unfamiliar and unmapped.

This meant that the Domex pilots could not “track crawl” from Beverly Lake to Bathurst Inlet, either. Track crawling was a technique used in navigation whereby the pilot would draw a line on his chart from his departure point to the destination point. As he flew over the land, he would ensure he passed over surface features portrayed on the map.
[8]
However, since this area in the sub-Arctic was unmapped, this was not an option. It was, therefore, even more critical to have clear skies for sun-compass navigation. With the sun's visibility increasingly blocked by clouds, the pilots headed in a more northerly route hoping that this would guarantee their sighting of Bathurst Inlet. This navigational technique was called “dead reckoning.”

They continued to fly over bleak tundra where there were no lakes and thus no place to land. The situation became tenser as they entered another cloud bank. Somehow they managed to communicate the need to land, and fortunately found a small, shallow lake. After a brief discussion, they decided the safest option would be to head to the Arctic coast and follow it to Bathurst. Thought was given to the possibility of being stranded due to weather, so the men decided they would be less likely to be frozen in if they waited it out on the ocean. Both planes took to the cloud-filled sky again and headed in the direction they thought was north and the Arctic coast.
[9]

Fuel was being consumed at an alarming rate and the pilots decided there was no room for further uncertainty. They had better land. When they dropped below the clouds they could see “a big bay,” which they assumed was Bathurst Inlet. Much to their delight, they spotted an Inuit camp and lined up for landing. Early bush pilots and explorers knew the importance of finding such settlements when experiencing difficulty. Because of the Inuit skill in surviving the ruthless conditions of the Arctic and their unquestioning willingness to share whatever they had, from food to clothing and knowledge, they were an invaluable lifeline. The pilots landed on the choppy water, cut the engines, and floated towards the shore. It was all hands at work as they pulled the planes ashore. Immediately, they were greeted by a Cogmollock Inuit family.

The Cogmollock Inuit population lived in the wilds of northern Canada around the Dease Point, Kent Peninsula, and Herschel Island areas where snow and ice covered the ground for most of the year. They were used to blizzards that raged for weeks at a time and the temperatures often below -45°C. Conditions were tough and unforgiving and bitter winds screamed down from the North Pole, yet this group was skilled at predicting weather and thrived on the far reaches of the Arctic Circle. The Cogmollocks were also successful hunters of seal, white fox, and polar bear, and used these skins as trading commodities.
[10]

One of the first people they met, and whose aid they would come to depend on, was Keninya, promptly nicknamed “Joe.” He told them through sign language that they were down near Cambridge Bay, a destination not on their route, and that the Bathurst post was about four hours away by boat. The men calculated that they had enough gas to make the post if they combined the remaining fuel from the two planes.

Colonel MacAlpine decided that the Western Canada Airways 'SK should make the trip without further delay. With 'SP already a write-off, this plane would be more likely to return safely. Finances could also have been a factor, since WCA leased out their aircraft for $1.75 per mile plus a charge of $75 per day, and Domex had already gone beyond their intended time frame.
[11]
There were further discussions about northwest headwinds, which would make flying difficult and increase gas consumption considerably, but they decided to fly 'SK anyway, despite these concerns.

September 12–13, 1929

Richard Pearce's Diary, Arctic Coast

SK warmed up and taxied out in the morning, but trouble again, developed in the carburetor intake, so SK came in. All but 9½ gallons of gas had been used. This was transferred back into AO, and with good visibility, she started off with MacMillan, Milne, Baker, and Joe on board. They returned a few minutes later after finding it impossible to make the crossing of the sea. A conference was held and it was decided that it was best to [stay put and] prepare at once for winter, rather than chance a trip before freeze-up.

It was decided that Major Baker who was on his way to Bathurst to take charge of Dominion Explorers base there, would be in charge of the party, and in case of differences of opinions that Col. MacAlpine would be final arbitrator. All of us realized our position, but morale was good. The chief worry was not personal inconvenience, but home conditions and anxiety that would be caused our families. Joe brought more salmon, and we are becoming used to it.

The situation of the prospectors could now be seen for what it was — very grim. They were above the Arctic Circle with no gas, very little food, inadequate clothing, and on floats that would soon be rendered useless by freeze-up. They were also uncomfortably aware that MacAlpine's direct instructions to Domex had been to hold off on any search, if they did not reach their predetermined destinations, until September 18, which was nearly a week away.

Communications of the era were still primitive. At that time, there were only three or four wireless radio stations throughout the Canadian Barrens, one of which was at Bathurst Inlet. Ironically, the front page of
The Northern Miner
, September 26, 1929, reported that the new wireless station at Bathurst was not working. It had been shipped by the Canadian Marconi Company, and the set was incomplete. In addition, there had been an acid spillage from the batteries during shipping. This meant that no word could be sent of the MacAlpine expedition's failure to arrive at this base.

The sod house was built using permafrost soil, which unfortunately defrosted when the stove was lit. Although the walls kept out the harsh winds that blew, the dampness within the house made it unpleasant. But it was “home” to the Dominion Explorers.
Provincial Archives of Manitoba, Canadian Air Lines Collection #2145.

Dusk arrived surreptitiously and darkness descended, sending the men with their thoughts either to the tent or their planes for another night of restless sleep. When they awoke, cramped and shivering, it became clear they would need better shelter, so they began building a sod house.

This project was a welcome distraction from the monotonous wait for freeze-up, but the work was no simple task. The soil was shallow and frozen, and the friable sod crumbled through their cold-stiffened fingers when they picked it up. The men had to scavenge far afield to locate materials, and it took almost a week to build the walls, which measured a twelve by fourteen feet area and were three feet thick to keep out the Arctic blasts. The dampness inside the sod house made for uncomfortable living quarters, but, nonetheless, the Domex men greeted each day as it came and continued about their daily task of building the house. It was believed that once the temperatures dropped, the sod walls would freeze and the dampness would subside.

September 15, 1929

Richard Pearce's Diary, Dease Point

This has been a tiring day for all of us, carrying frozen sod for the mud house and gathering fuel. Eight or nine hours' hard going and only two scanty meals, could hardly be considered a satisfactory day. The latest Eskimo arrival, whom we have named Jack, reiterated what Joe has told us about the impossibility of making the post now…. We offered a whaleboat and a big store of supplies if he would take out a message, an offer which he refused. We are now satisfied that the Eskimo will take us out when travelling is possible, and not before. Our new Eskimos showed Mac [MacMillan] a four-gallon can of gas in his cache, but says there is no more in the neighbourhood. He also told us there was no gas nor any supplies at Ellice River.

Since their initial plan to use the wings of 'AO as the roof proved to be impossible, one of the Inuit women sewed two canvas tarpaulins together for that purpose. Pontoon struts were taken from 'AO for use as a ridgepole. They also used a window from the aircraft to let in the light. To maintain warmth within their Arctic home they made the doorway small. So small, in fact, that they had to crawl to get in — not an easy task for the heftier members of the expedition! Against this door they erected a seven-by-eight-foot tent to serve as a buffer against the wind as well as provide space for food storage.

Lacking proper clothing and with limited knowledge of surviving in the North for an extended period of time, the Domex men believed that their best chance lay in their nearly completed shelter, guidance from the Inuit, and, ultimately, rescue. Tasks were assigned, and each man was given a duty to perform while they waited. It never occurred to them that they might fail to return home.

September 16, 1929

Richard Pearce's Diary, Dease Point

We had to lay off house building to gather more fuel. We are going very slow on the grub [6.5 ounces of food per person each day] and everyone is hungry. Boadway lent me an extra pair of pants today. When we came here they wouldn't go around the waist; now they are loose. The rest of the party is in about the same shape; all losing weight rapidly… There has been speculative talk in idle moments as to whether the Bathurst wireless station is working. If it is, we hope an alarm has been sent out and planes will soon be looking for us.

Thus began the wait for 4°C, the optimum temperature at which water molecules begin to form ice.

Preparations for the Search

First and most important care is that of one's body, so “clothing” will receive primary consideration. Pack in your kit the heaviest possible woollen socks, lumberjack's stockings, felt insoles, duffels, moose skin moccasins or mukluks, a pair of low rubbers to cover the moccasins when necessary … ALWAYS KEEP YOUR FEET DRY.

… If circumstances arise under which you cannot help getting the footgear wet, such as when walking through overflow or water on top of ice, dip your feet quickly in and out of the water and let the water freeze on the outside of your footgear. Keep doing this until you have a good coating of ice all over your moccasins. When you have a good thick coat of ice on your feet, get through the overflow as quickly as possible…Overflows have caused many frozen feet in the North.

From “Northern Survival Techniques for Western Canada Airways Novice Pilots,” September 23, 1929, Andy Cruick-shank's teaching material, Prince George, British Columbia.

On September 23, Andy Cruickshank's phone rang. He was the superintendent of Western Canada Airways (WCA) in Prince George, British Columbia. The caller was Leigh Brintnell, his boss and the head of WCA's field force.
[1]
Cruickshank had been following the news reports about the missing Domex group and knew they had not arrived at Bathurst Inlet. He also knew that Western Canada Airways was already low on aircraft, having leased two planes to Domex, the ruined 'SP and 'SK replacement. Cruickshank expected that a search would be underway quickly because the cessation of float-plane flying period was imminent, and timing would be critical. This time in the calendar year was known to pilots as the in-between season, which literally meant the time between the end of float season and the beginning of ski flying. It could be a matter of a few days before the waterways froze sufficiently for ski landings, or it could take weeks.

Brintnell wasted no time in giving Cruickshank his instructions. They were simple — find the missing men and bring them back safely. Cruickshank would be in charge of the pilots, planes, and search routes during the search, and Guy Blanchet, a Dominion Explorers field worker, would be responsible for ensuring the well-being of the expedition members.

Cruickshank put his office in order and left for home to prepare for the search. Alf Walker, his mechanic, was busy overhauling G-CASQ, a Fokker Super Universal, for the flight out, and the two agreed to meet back at the Prince George hangar with their kits as soon as possible.

Cruickshank, shown here in his serge, joined the Royal Canadian Mounted Police in April 1923. The charismatic officer rode in the RCMP “gymkhana” while posted at Vancouver's “E” division, where he monitored immigration at the Port of Vancouver.
Karram Family Collection.

The media continued daily reports about the missing Dominion Explorers. Mr. McDougall, the treasurer of Domex, gave a statement on September 23, 1929, to
The
Manitoba Free Press
that instructions had been given for the commencement of an intensive search: “The relief planes detailed to fly into Mackenzie River territory at dawn this morning will be piloted by ‘Punch' Dickens [
sic
] and Andy Cruickshanks [
sic
]. Both have had much experience in flying in the great northwest.”

Cruickshank had an international reputation as one of the world's finest pilots
[2]
; not only was his flying exemplary, but his knowledge of the North was encyclopedic. He had learned to fly the hard way, in the skies over France during the First World War. After the Great War, he emigrated from England to Canada and was one of only twelve recruits chosen to join the prestigious Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) in 1923.
[3]
After his first posting in Vancouver's “E” division he requested a transfer to Dawson, Yukon Territories, where his thirst for adventure would be fulfilled. It was in the North that he found his true home. He was later described in the
Western Canada Airways Bulletin
as one whom, “in the great spaces of the North had communed with Nature in all her moods, sifted the essentials, and freed his soul from the trammels of dogma.”
[4]
He was awestruck by its remorseless beauty and developed a high regard for and a lasting friendship with the local Aboriginal people.

His RCMP duties ranged from recording mining claims and land titles to collecting customs duties and acting variously as a coroner, Indian agent, health officer, tax collector, magistrate, jailer, and even guard for the Dawson banks. He went on patrols with dog teams, camping for weeks at a time as he journeyed from one settlement to another, often transporting the sick for miles to the nearest hospital. In the North he learned survival skills and with them a great respect for the forces of nature.

Cruickshank met Esmé Trevor-Bulkley while hiking in Capilano Canyon, North Vancouver. At that time, RCMP officers were not permitted to marry unless they had served with the force for five years. Cruickshank bought his release from the Mounties and married Esmé in 1927. The couple flew with Charles Lindbergh and his wife Anne in 1928.
Karram Family Collection.

Cruickshank left the RCMP in 1927 and set up the Yukon Airways and Transportation Company with James Finnegan and Clyde Wann. He lobbied the Yukon and Dominion governments for permission to fly commercial flights and airmail in the North. Once this request was granted he ordered a Ryan M-2 monoplane to carry the mail and begin commercial flying. But just prior to completion of the aircraft Cruickshank was approached by Charles Lindbergh, who asked if he could take delivery of the plane instead, since he was vying for a prize for the first non-stop flight across the Atlantic. The $25,000 prize, offered in 1919 by New York hotelier Raymond Orteig, was for the first aviator to make a non-stop flight from either Paris to New York or New York to Paris. Cruickshank agreed to give up his position in line for the Ryan, and while he waited for the next plane in production, Lindbergh made his historic flight on the plane named
The Spirit of St. Louis
.
[5]
This flight proved pivotal, since it demonstrated that a stock engine could run continuously for 33.5 hours. Engines like this could withstand the rigours of the North.

In that same year Cruickshank married Esmé Trevor-Bulkley. They set sail from Vancouver to Skagway with Cruickshank's dismantled aircraft aboard the ship. Soon after, he began his career as a northern bush pilot flying the reassembled
Queen of the Yukon
.

Cruickshank (or Chief Thunderbird as he would soon be known to the local Aboriginal people) quickly gained an impressive understanding of the equinoctial weather systems in the North, grasping the impact of the wind currents that formed high above the Arctic Circle, sending fog and low clouds to the flat landscape of the Northwest Territories. He became well acquainted with the updrafts and whirlwinds that were generated by the mountainous regions in the Yukon. While living in the North he learned firsthand that everything needed for survival was there, provided that one was attuned to the environment.

In 1929, the Northwest Territories was approximately 1.3 million square miles, so to search for two planes and eight men in such a vast area was an enormous, nearly impossible task. However, his knowledge and experience made him the obvious choice to be placed in charge of directing the aerial search, and he accepted his assignment with determination and resolve. Nevertheless, it wasn't easy for him to embark on a journey that would separate him from Esmé and their eight-month-old daughter Dawn for an indefinite period of time. Their home was a one-room cabin, the size of a garden shed, measuring a mere ten-by-twelve feet. It was presided over by Esmé, a woman of incredible strength, whose sense of adventure matched that of her husband. She had been taken on many flights throughout the Yukon, Alaska, and British Columbia. In fact, she was credited with delivering the first airmail into Dawson in November 1927, having pushed the mailbag out of the plane window as her husband lined up a flight path down the main street of the town. While she flew with him, Cruickshank was training his wife to become a pilot.

The Cruickshank family, Andy, Esmé, and baby Dawn, are enjoying a moment of sunshine in front of their Prince George cabin just days before Cruickshank left for the Arctic.
Karram Family Collection.

Esmé completely understood the task her husband had been assigned and immediately began assembling his kit. Using the same list that he had outlined for his young pilots, she laid out woollen underwear, heavy serge and mackinaw breeches, a mackinaw, a buckskin shirt, a heavy woollen sweater, a caribou parka and pants, several pairs of woollen mitts (as well as moose-skin mitts to put over the woollen mitts), and 15 cent gloves for plane repairs.

Although she had the utmost confidence in her spouse, she knew the hazards of the in-between season in the North only too well — that the area would soon become a stark, seemingly dead world, animated only by the sound of the shrieking wind. Though she kept her qualms to herself, she could not help but wonder what lay in store, not only for her husband, but also for the other men on the search who had their own families. An hour or so later she heard the drone of Cruickshank's plane as he made his customary pass overhead and watched as he dipped his wings in farewell. On this day, her eyes followed his aircraft as he headed into the clouds. Her heart was heavy.

The
Northern Miner
, on September 26, 1929, ran the story that Cruickshank's instructions, issued by Leigh Brintnell, had been to fly with Alf Walker to Fort McMurray then on to Fitzgerald and the Coronation Gulf, where he would meet Clennell H. “Punch” Dickins on that day. From there they would head to Stony Rapids.

What should have been two days' travel for Cruickshank and Walker turned into a nightmarish week. Almost immediately after takeoff they ran into bad weather that forced them down at Hudson Hope, where they remained all day. The following morning they doggedly pushed on, but soon encountered heavy rains, forcing them to land on the Peace River. They were finally able to lift off in the evening and managed to reach Peace River Crossing in spite of the rain, sleet, and snow. Despite the freezing temperatures, the water was not frozen, and Cruickshank landed safely, without damaging the floats on the plane.

September 26, 1929

Andy Cruickshank's Diary, Peace River Crossing

Flew to McMurray and [tried to go] on to Fitzgerald. Bucked a 50 mile gale on Slave River, ran out of gas, forced to land. Wind blew us upstream one and a half miles before we could get ashore. Found a small cabin, No. 10 Buffalo Camp, tied machine safely and stayed overnight.

After their standard breakfast of fried bacon, bannock, tea, and half-frozen pears, Walker and Cruickshank each perched on one of the plane's floats and, wielding paddles, attempted to paddle the twenty miles to Fitzgerald. But a strong wind whipped up waves, making any forward progress impossible. Finally, the pair decided to turn the aircraft around and they paddled it back to shore where they secured it again. They then began trekking downstream. In his diary entry for September 27, 1929, Andy wrote: “Walked down river 10 miles to Fitzgerald. Walker got stuck in quicksand. [He] was wearing waders. By using lots of driftwood I made a platform and got him out of his boots.”