The big stories of Antarctic exploration tend to come in two main flavours: either a race to the South Pole, or a desperate survival story after a ship sinks after being in the ice. Shackleton, Scott and Amundsen, we’re looking at you. But no one has done more to change that popular perception in recent years than Julian Sancton, and his best-selling book about the 1897 expedition that helped kickstart the entire ‘Heroic Era’ of Antarctic exploration.
Madhouse at the End of the Earth: The Belgica’s Journey into the Dark Antarctic Night grips its readers like a gothic thriller, telling the dreadful story of the first expedition to overwinter in Antarctica. With the action taking place along the Antarctic Peninsula in locations visited by many modern expedition cruise ships, it’s also one of our most highly recommended books about Antarctica. We spoke to Sancton to learn more.
Origins of an expedition
The Belgica expedition was little known beyond polar enthusiasts for many years, and Sancton first came across it in a brief mention in a New Yorker article about living on Mars. The extreme isolation and privations suffered by its crew were held up as a cautionary tale for future planetary exploration. It was enough to lead Sancton to investigate further.
The official name for the expedition was the Belgian Antarctic Expedition, led by a naval officer called Adrien de Gerlache. ‘It was the first purely scientific expedition to Antarctica,’ Sancton says. ‘Their goal was to explore the coast around the Antarctica Peninsula and also to reach the Magnetic South Pole. Gerlache raised the money from the Belgian public (‘You’d call it crowdfunding today,’ Sancton points out), but with Belgium only having the tiniest of navies, he recruited internationally for his crew.
The multinational and multilingual team would be the source of much friction once the Belgica set sail with the honour of Belgium at stake – at least in de Gerlache’s mind.
‘At the start, you see the temerity that’s driven every great feat of exploration. There’s the sense of going into the complete unknown, that they knew that they were going somewhere that wasn’t going to be a Sunday stroll,’ says Sancton. ‘But what distinguished de Gerlache from other polar explorers – Shackleton included – was that as good a sailor as he was, he wasn’t a natural leader of men. And that led to some unexpected and unfortunate events.’
Into the ice
The Belgica sailed into trouble almost straight away. Even before the ship was anywhere near the Southern Ocean, there were fights on board between some of the Belgians and Norwegians, which led to four members of the crew being ejected in Punta Arenas. The ship then ran aground near Ushuaia, almost ending the expedition completely, and not long crossing the Drake Passage, the ship’s youngest sailor, 18-year-old Carl Wiencke, was washed overboard and drowned. To say it was an inauspicious start is an understatement. But once at the Peninsula, the wonder of Antarctica finally began to reveal itself.
‘They found what every explorer dreams of, which is a swath of land that they were the first humans to lay eyes on,’ explains Sancton. Once stretch of coastline enchanted them just as it does to visitors to the Antarctic Peninsula today, though the men of the Belgica were the first people to ever see it:
‘They spent about two weeks exploring the Gerlache Strait. It’s one of the most spectacular environments on the face of the earth, and you can understand why they wanted to spend all their time there. It’s biologically rich and it was unknown and uncharted.’
The ship’s scientists collected material that would ultimately take 40 years for the full results of their surveying to be published. But as the coastline was mapped and samples catalogued the Belgica became hopelessly behind schedule.
‘You can understand why they spent as much time as they did there, but by the time they started circumnavigating the continent, they were caught in the thickening sea ice.’ Against the better judgement of others, de Gerlache insisted that the ship press on. The consequences were inevitable: the Belgica was caught in the ice as the Antarctic winter closed around them.
The long winter
No ship had ever overwintered in Antarctica before, and it certainly wasn’t something that the crew of the Belgica had signed up for. But before long, the shortening polar days turned to 24 hours of darkness, and the ultimate test was upon them. Over the coming months, the men would undergo terrible hardships.
‘They were eating canned food that had been designed to offer a balanced diet, but didn’t contain any vitamin C,’ says Sancton pointing out that the causes of scurvy were still unknown at this time. The men began to sicken, and the endless mushy food turned meal times into a source of dread. It didn’t help that the cook was a notoriously bad chef to begin with.
Depression – and in one case, madness – followed. The expedition’s geophysicist Emile Danco died of heart failure (Danco Island, a popular calling point for modern Antarctic cruises, is named in his honour). De Gerlache himself became listless to the point of making his will. The winter chapters of Madhouse at the End of the Earth are filled with an existential dread that is a long way from the chest-beating heroics of many explorers.
Only two members of the team seemed to thrive, both of who would become much more famous for other achievements. Belgica’s First Mate was one Roald Amundsen, who had joined the expedition to gain polar experience and took on every challenge like a Viking, testing himself on skiing expeditions, always refining and redesigning his polar equipment.
‘Amundsen wanted to prove something to himself. He saw in suffering the mark of honor and glory and took pleasure in it. Actually, I don’t think he even suffered that much because for him suffering was pleasure,’ says Sancton.
The other person who seemed to thrive was the ship’s American doctor, Frederick Cook. He was an experienced Arctic explorer who had travelled in the far north with the Inuit, and he was as flamboyant as Amundsen was austere. He would later become embroiled in a great controversy over his false claims to have been the first man to reach the North Pole, but in the depths of the Antarctic winter he became the expedition’s real hero.
‘Cook had an irrepressible optimism that helped give them a sense of hope, even where he was privately convinced that the men were going to die.’ Cook’s experience with the Inuit led him to deduce that fresh meat was the only way to ward off scurvy. He convinced the men to eat nearly raw penguin for its health-giving properties. ‘There are amazing descriptions of how disgusting this is,’ Sancton tells me, noting that the only person who didn’t find it distasteful was the masochistic Amundsen.
Furthermore, Cook developed an early form of light therapy, getting the men to stand naked in front of a fire in what he called a baking treatment. Whether or not the fire emitted the frequencies of light used in modern therapies is unclear, but the simple effect on the men of being taken care of in such a way profound effect on boosting effect on their spirits.
We won’t reveal how the Belgica finally made it out of the ice — you’ll need to read the book for that — but suffice to say that when you do you’ll be in need of a walk in the sun and the comfort of a well-balanced meal. Anyone taking a copy on an Antarctic cruise to follow in the Belgica’s footsteps will be extra grateful for modern ships of reinforced steel and modern ice navigation, and that penguin is no longer part of the menu.
Joining an Antarctica cruise
Having spent so much time working in the archives, Sancton knew that getting to experience Antarctica firsthand was an essential part of understanding the story and the landscapes they encountered. His first experience of seeing the Gerlache Strait was a powerful one.
‘We got the announcement around four in the morning. There was a mother of pearl sky and was immediately transported back to 1898 and the men of the Belgica. It was a really emotional moment – even aside from the historical resonance, the landscapes are just so overpowering. The Gerlache Strait looks like the Himalayas themselves are jutting straight out of the water, with glaciers up to the waterline, and then soon after seeing an abundance of life with the birds and penguins and the seals lazing on passing flows. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.’
Not every sensory experience inspired poetry, Sancton laughed. ‘The thing that probably surprised me the most was this pure clear crystalline Antarctic air, and then being walloped in the face by the smell of a penguin rookery!’
While Sancton marvelled at being able to recognise scenes photographed by Frederick Cook, as his cruise continued it also became clear that the Antarctic Peninsula had changed considerably since the Belgica had explored there. His ship had a visiting scientist guide recording water salinity, temperature and phytoplankton concentrations.
‘He told me that the makeup of the water and the salinity had changed dramatically in the last 20 years. That’s alarming. Rising temperatures increase the melting of glaciers into the fjords of the Peninsula, which can negatively impact phytoplankton that’s at the base of Antarctica’s food chain. In tandem, any reduction in annual sea ice cover is a threat to Antarctic krill, which use the ice as a nursery and are the main food source for penguins, whales and more – as well as having a vital role to play in global carbon regulation.
It’s a sobering thought, but Sancton returns me to the story of the Belgica to point the way forward. Adrien de Gerlache knowingly sailed his men into the ice of the Antarctic winter, not knowing the full consequences of his actions. But through innovation and teamwork, the expedition never resigned itself to doom, and ultimately sailed through potential disaster. It’s an inspiring thought as Antarctica faces the challenges of the 21st Century.
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