A wall of sea ice piled high against the shores of a desolate island. A masquerade beneath the shifting lights of the aurora borealis. A dying man with golden chains threaded through his skin. These haunting images, likely to remain vividly connected to the Franklin Expedition in the minds of enthusiasts, were beautifully captured in... Continue Reading →
Absences and presences. So much of what we know about the fate of the Franklin Expedition has been conjectured from the uncertain space between the physical traces that remain and all that has vanished, gone unseen, or never existed at all. The dearth of messages deposited along the expedition’s route, the lack of marked grave... Continue Reading →
I’ve never been to the Arctic latitudes. Never watched an iceberg collapse into the ocean with a rumble like the dawn of doomsday, never struggled to sleep beneath a sun that fails to set. I’ve never had frost bitten fingers, never known pangs of genuine hunger or the aches of a vitamin-starved body turning against itself. The closest I’ve come to battling the ice is when I’ve scraped it off my window or steered my car into the slide on a winter road. But I too search for Franklin.