Ada Blackjack: Stranded in the Arctic | A Desolate Land | 1
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A listener note. This episode contains depictions of abusive behavior that some listeners might find upsetting. Please be advised. Ada Blackjack trudges through the muddy streets of Nome, Alaska. It's an unusually warm morning in the spring of 1921. The snow melts into dirty puddles, which she does her best to avoid.

Nome is an old gold rush town on Alaska's west coast. But the gold rush ended decades ago, and now it's seen better days. Blackjack weaves past ramshackle wooden shanties, boarded-up saloons, and dirty prospector's tents. The stench of raw sewage fills the air, rising from ditches on the side of the road. In her arms, she holds her five-year-old son, Bennett,

Blackjack is a small woman, less than five feet tall. But Bennett is so frail, she carries him with ease. She winces as Bennett lets out a loud, dry cough. Tuberculosis is ravaging his lungs. As soon as he catches his breath, he looks up at his mother. "'Mama, did you know I have a pet reindeer and I ride on his back? It's true.'"

He goes so fast. I have to grab his horns to stay on. Blackjack squeezes him tight. She's going to miss his stories. They stop in front of a tall wooden building, the Jesse Lee Home for Children. Blackjack takes a deep breath as she stares at the front door. Every part of her wants to turn around. She grew up in a place like this after her father died. The last thing she wants to do is make her son do the same.

But she has no choice. Bennett lets out another violent cough, and Blackjack holds him tighter against her chest. Weeks ago, Bennett's father abandoned them, and now she's barely scraping by. She makes a modest living cleaning houses and sewing clothes for minors, but the money is never enough. She can't afford medical care for Bennett, but the Jessie Lee Home for Children can.

Blackjack sets her jaw in determination. She's already watched two of her children die. She's not losing a third. The door opens to reveal an older woman with gray hair wound into a tight bun. She looks Blackjack up and down. You must be Mrs. Blackjack. And this is Bennett? Bennett?

Blackjack nods as Bennett buries his face in her shoulder. Mama, please, don't make me go. Blackjack fights back tears. The woman shakes her head disapprovingly. Come now, young man. You're too old for these hysterics. She pulls Bennett away from Blackjack. Bennett wails and struggles, trying to free himself from the woman's grasp. But she holds him firm.

Blackjack feels like her heart is being ripped from her chest. As soon as I have enough money, I'll be back for you. I promise. She turns away so that Bennett won't see the tears running down her face. She hears the door close behind her, but it doesn't stifle the sound of Bennett's cries. The sound gets quieter as she walks away slowly, and it dazes.

Ada Blackjack always keeps her promises. She will come back for Bennett, but not until she has enough money to take care of him properly. And to get that money, she'll do whatever it takes.

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On board was a 23-year-old Inuit woman named Ada Blackjack. She'd been hired to serve as a seamstress and cook for the four white explorers undertaking the expedition. And in every way, she was a fish out of water. Blackjack had been raised in a missionary school in Nome. She had no survival skills to prepare her for life on a harsh, uninhabited island.

But when the expedition took a dangerous turn, she discovered a deep well of resourcefulness and resilience she never knew she possessed. This is the story of how Ada Blackjack became the sole survivor of the Wrangell Island Expedition. This is Episode 1, A Desolate Land. ♪

Frederick Maurer scribbles down notes as fast as he can. He's seated at a table with three other men, who are also jotting down notes as an expert lectures them about how to survive in the Arctic. It's summer 1921, in the dining room of a boarding house in Seattle, Washington. Maurer is 28 years old, with broad shoulders, blonde hair, and a chiseled jaw.

Back home in Ohio, people used to tell him he looked like a movie star.

In a few days, Maurer and the men sitting next to him will sail to Nome, Alaska to purchase supplies for an expedition to an uninhabited island far above the Arctic Circle. They'll hire a ship to take them to Wrangell Island, and then they'll call its harsh terrain home for the next two years. The man giving them advice is one of the most celebrated Arctic explorers in history, Wilhelmer Stefansson.

He's the one organizing and funding this trip, but he's not going with them. At 41 years old, Stephenson has left his exploring days behind him. So for the younger men, this meeting is their last chance to soak up all his knowledge.

As Mora writes, he feels an elbow jab into his ribs. It's Lorne Knight, who's seated right next to him. Sorry about that. Knight's a big man who takes up a lot of space. His strides are long, his voice is loud, and his handshakes are painful.

He's an experienced explorer, so he'll be the expedition's de facto leader. Sitting across the table from Maurer and Knight is Milton Gale. He's the youngest member of the group and the most eager. He's only 19, with a soft Texas drawl and an infectious laugh. Next to Maurer is a quiet 20-year-old from Toronto named Alan Crawford. He has striking green eyes and a disarmingly goofy grin.

Stephenson points at him. Crawford, when you get to Wrangell, the first thing you do is to raise the Union Jack and claim the island for the United Kingdom. Planting that flag is one of the main objectives of this expedition. Maurer has lost track of all the reasons Stephenson has given for the expedition. Aside from claiming the island for England, he says he wants to prove his theory of the friendly Arctic—

that the North isn't a frozen wasteland, but a place where humans can thrive. Stefansson rubs his hand over his son-mother cheeks. "You'll want to hire Inuit families to accompany you. The men can hunt, the women can cook and sew.

And of course, you'll need an umiak. Maurer has been to the Arctic with Stephenson before, and he remembers umiaks from that previous trip. They're small boats made of wood and seal skins that the Inuit use to hunt. They're light enough to be carried over ice, but strong enough to transport the carcasses of big game like seals and walruses.

After the meeting is over, Stephenson's eyes land on Maurer. Fred, could I have a word? The two of them step into a corner of the room, where the others are out of earshot. It's nothing to worry about, but I'm having a small issue with the bank, and I'm a touch short on the funds needed for you to purchase all the supplies in Nome. I wondered if you might be able to help.

Maurer frowns. He thought the financing for the trip had been squared away. How short? About a thousand dollars. Maurer's eyes go wide. I don't have that kind of money. I know, but I was wondering if you knew someone. It would just be a loan. I don't know. Maybe my brother John? Fantastic. You'll ask him straight away? Maurer nods reluctantly, then leaves the boarding house to look for a telegram office.

He's placing a lot of trust in Stephenson to ensure that this expedition is carried out more safely than their last one. He hopes that trust isn't misplaced. Ada Blackjack stands on a dock in Gnomes Harbor. A row of anchored ships sway in the water. The chatter of fishermen and prospectors fills the air. She feels the wind ruffle her black hair, which she's pulled into a tight braid.

A few days ago, a friend told her about a job opportunity. It's a chance to earn more money than what she's making scrubbing floors and sewing clothes. Blackjack needs that money if she ever hopes to get Bennett out of the children's home. But this job would involve leaving him for two years. On the dock, four white men loom over her. Blackjack is used to being smaller than everyone around her. But these men are gigantic.

The leader looks like he's well over 200 pounds, with a booming voice that hurts Blackjack's ears. You know how to sew skins and furs? Blackjack nods, too intimidated to speak. You can sew the seams in that special Inuit way so they're waterproof, right? Yes, my seams never leak.

Blackjack can't imagine spending two years away from Bennett, alone in some remote corner of the Arctic with these huge white men. She works up the nerve to ask a question that's been bothering her. Would I be the only woman on the trip? The men burst out laughing. But Blackjack's not sure what's funny. Of course not. We're hiring several Inuit families, men and women. You'll have plenty of company.

The four men step away and speak quietly amongst themselves for a few minutes. Then, the big one turns back to Blackjack. "Job's yours if you want it. We pay $50 a month." Blackjack tries to hide her shock. "$50 a month?"

That's more money than she's made in her whole life. At the end of two years, she'd have more than enough to take care of Bennett. She could even take him to Seattle, where she's heard they have much better hospitals than the ones in Nome. Images flash in her mind of polar bears, of other unknown dangers she could be facing. But she decides Bennett is worth it. I'll take it. The men give her money to buy all the sewing supplies she'll need.

They explain that their ship, the Silver Wave, will leave Nome on September 9th. After a stop in Siberia for more supplies, the ship will drop them off on Wrangel Island, which will be their home for the next two years. As Blackjack walks back into town, her head spins. She'll be leaving behind everything and everyone she knows in just a matter of weeks. She tries to calm herself.

She thinks of the money she'll earn and what it can buy. A phrase repeats in her head like a mantra. I'm doing this for Bennett. I'm doing this for Bennett. More night lifts an umiak and takes a few steps down a rickety pier, testing the boat's weight. A young Inuit man stands watching with a smirk on his face.

They're in East Cape, Siberia. It's September 12th, 1921, three days into their expedition to Wrangell Island. East Cape is their last stop before sailing north and leaving civilization behind. Snow-capped mountains enclose the bay, giving it a claustrophobic feeling.

Knight wants to leave Siberia soon, but first they need to buy an umiak. Knight likes the one he's inspecting now. The boat is light and easy to carry, but still feels strong. He turns to the Inuit man. "How much?" "One hundred and twenty dollars." Knight sighs. That's far too expensive for their expedition's modest budget.

If only he'd bought an umiak back in Nome. He thought they'd be cheaper in Siberia, but he was wrong. The expedition is not off to a great start. Knight thought he had hired enough Inuit in Nome.

But the day they set sail, only one woman showed up. Ada Blackjack. She almost ran away when she saw she was the only one. But Knight assured her they would hire more Inuit in Siberia. But all the Inuit he's approached here have laughed in his face. They think it's crazy to try to live on Wrangel. Knight pulls a lot of bills from his pocket. I'll give you 90 for it, not a penny more. The

The Inuit man shakes his head. 120 or no deal. Then, I'm afraid it's no deal. Knight watches angrily as the young Inuit man takes his umiak and saunters down the pier. Stephenson had been adamant about needing an umiak, but Knight's patience for these price-gouging Inuit has reached its limit.

Then he remembers. Aboard their ship, he saw a dori — a small, flat-bottomed fishing boat. It's bigger and heavier than an umiak, but still should be easy enough to drag across the ice.

and the captain of the Silver Wave will probably sell it to them for half the cost. Knight walks back down the dock to the ship, feeling optimistic. They don't have an umiak, but they'll have a boat to hunt with. Knight is proving that he can adapt and make tough decisions. It may not be quite what Stephenson had in mind for their expedition, but Knight feels sure the old explorer would approve. ♪

Ada Blackjack watches from the deck of the Silver Wave as the coast of Siberia fades into the distance. A cold wind whips through her hair. A storm is coming, but she doesn't want to go inside the cabin. Her breathing grows shallow as the land gets harder and harder to see.

Her four traveling companions are on the deck as well, standing several yards away from her. They're laughing and slapping each other's backs, excited to finally be heading to Wrangell. They barely said two words to her since they left Nome. She's not sure they even remember her name. Blackjack feels something rubbing against her calf. She looks down to see Vic, the small gray kitten Frederick Marr carried on board back in Nome.

She overheard the men say that Vic was born on the ship that brought them from Seattle. They brought her along as a good luck charm. Blackjack kneels down and pets the kitten. It reminds her of how she stroked Bennett's downy, soft head when he was a baby. Vic closes her eyes and purrs. After a moment, Blackjack stands up. The coast of Siberia is now out of view completely.

All around them, there's nothing but open ocean dotted with ice. She waited all day for more Inuit families to board the ship, but none arrived. Soon, she'll be all alone with four men on a desolate island 600 miles from home. Blackjack grips the rail tight, trying to slow down her breathing. She keeps thinking to herself,

I'm doing this for Bennett. I'm doing this for Bennett. When you're hiring, time is of the essence. That's why more than 3.5 million businesses worldwide use Indeed to find exceptional talent fast. Indeed's powerful matching engine works quickly. So quickly that, according to Indeed data worldwide, every minute, 23 hires are made on Indeed.

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The glow of the Arctic sun is emerging from the horizon. In front of her, Alan Crawford thrusts a shovel into the ground. He's trying to dig a hole so he can plant a flag. The rocky ground is hard to penetrate. The other men tease him as they watch. Frederick Maurer holds the lucky kitten, Bic, in his hands. The five of them arrived last night and unloaded supplies, including their team of sled dogs.

It was so foggy, Blackjack could barely see anything. In the early morning light, the island looks vast. There are no trees, just an endless field of sharp, jagged rocks and driftwood, with some mountains in the distance. A few wildflowers are still blooming, but they'll be dead soon. Blackjack feels a chill in the air. Everything will be iced over in a few weeks.

Crawford lets out a victorious yell as he finally plants the flagpole on the ground. Blackjack watches as the other men hand Crawford a flag. She recognizes it as the British flag from her geography lessons at the missionary school. Crawford hoists it up the flagpole, then looks on proudly as it flaps in the wind.

He pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket and reads, Let it be known that I, Alan Rudyard Crawford, a native of Canada and a British subject, raised the British flag and declared this land, known as Wrangell Island, to be the possession of His Majesty George, King of Great Britain. The men clapped.

Crawford grins and signs the declaration, then passes it to the other men who add their signatures.

Blackjack hears a rustle behind her and freezes. She's convinced it's a polar bear. She's never actually seen one, but she's terrified of them. When she was a young child, her relatives told her myths and stories about polar bears. She learned that their spirits were powerful, and if they weren't respected, they would turn into demons and take revenge on those who angered them.

Now, even as an adult, she still has nightmares of being eaten by a polar bear. She turns and looks behind her, preparing to run for her life. But there's nothing there. It must have been the wind. Blackjack has never felt this small or exposed. There's nowhere to hide in this desolate land. She can't live here for two years. She should have never agreed to come. No amount of money was worth it.

Her breathing grows rapid and her eyes tear up. She walks down the gravel beach, away from the men. She doesn't want them to see her like this. She follows the shore until the men are barely in view. She can still hear their voices, carried by the wind. We're officially on British land now. To the king then, I suppose. She looks out to the sea.

The silver wave is still in view, heading away from Rangel. Blackjack jumps up and down, waving her arms frantically above her head. "Wait! Come back!" Another victorious cheer erupts from the men as they celebrate their precious flag. Blackjack turns to look back at them, far down the shore. From where she's standing, they look small and vulnerable.

If she leaves, who will sew for them? They won't survive the winter without clothes stitched from animal furs and skins. She can't abandon them. And she needs this money to get Bennett back. She looks out to the ocean, lowers her arms, and watches the ship sail away. Ada Blackjack stomps over the frozen tundra holding a lantern.

The sky is still dark, and a bitterly cold wind stings her face. Even in the darkness, she knows what's ahead of her: ice. Everything is frozen over, even the ocean. Everything is just white. Endless white. It's an early November morning, just two months since they first arrived on the island. Already, there's only a few hours of sunlight each day.

Soon it will be polar night. No daylight at all for weeks. Nome, Alaska had long nights too, but nothing like this. And since the days started getting shorter, Blackjack has begun feeling different. Very different. On most days, she's miserable, lethargic, unable to work.

Lauren Knight yells and yells at her, but she can't make herself so. She can barely do anything. She just lies on her cot next to the stove and thinks about Bennett. She misses him so much. She's a burden. The men wish they hadn't brought her. Knight tells her so all the time. Yesterday, she saw Knight watching her as he sharpened his knife. Was he thinking about killing her?

There's only one bright spot in this ordeal. Alan Crawford. With his gentle voice, his piercing green eyes, one day she woke up and just knew. She had to marry this man. It was like the idea possessed her and grew into an obsession. She'd never felt this way in her life. She needed to be with him. But then, night took him away from her.

He sent Crawford and Frederick Moorer 15 miles away to set up a second camp as a base for trapping foxes. The separation is unbearable. She has to see him. So this morning, she got up early and started walking towards the second camp. She didn't care about the distance or the polar bears or anything else. The only thing she cared about was Crawford. She's been walking for hours now.

her legs ache and she's chilled to the bone then she sees smoke in the distance she's almost there she quickens her pace as the silhouette of a tent comes into view now she's running she imagines Crawford greeting her welcoming her into the tent for a cup of coffee she stops a few yards away from the tent and calls out good morning my love I've come to surprise you it's silent for a moment Crawford

She hears stirring inside the brown canvas tent, and then a groan, and a voice she recognizes as Maurer's. "Ugh, Crawford, your sweetheart is here. Can't you get rid of her?" Undeterred, Blackjack starts to enter the tent.

But Crawford blocks the way. "You can't come in." "But I need to see you. We belong together." Crawford blushes, but stays firm. "No, there's work for you to do. Either go back to the main camp or stay outside in the snow. Those are your only options. You are not coming into this tent." Blackjack tries to push past him.

If she can just get inside, Crawford will see that he likes having her here. But Crawford is almost twice her size, and he easily blocks her. Go away, you stupid woman. I'm not letting you in. Blackjack can see that he's serious. Tears flood from her eyes, and she lets out a howl. But Crawford won't be moved. He closes the tent flat and leaves her standing there in the cold.

Lauren Knight sits on the edge of his cot, inspecting his boots. He's alone inside the tent he shares with the other three men. He runs his thumb along the sole of one of the boots. He needs the woman to repair it. Knight closes his eyes for a moment as he braces himself. He has no idea how she will respond. Since they arrived on Wrangell, Blackjack has completely lost her mind.

One day, they found her wandering in the snow, dressed only in her nightgown. She'd been out there for hours. And yesterday, she hiked all the way to the trapping camp when it was still pitch blackout. Knight finally heard her return late last night. He's heard of people going crazy this far north. There's even a name for it. Arctic hysteria.

But this is the first time he's seen it, and he doesn't have time for it. They're depending on the woman, and she needs to pull her weight. Knight grabs his boots and steps out of the tent. It's one of two tents pitched inside a simple structure called a winterhouse, which they've built around the tents for extra insulation. It has a floor of split logs, a roof made of sod, and walls made of blocks of snow.

Knight marches into the second, smaller tent, which serves as both their kitchen and the woman's sleeping quarters. As soon as he enters, Blackjack curls herself into a ball and turns away from him. He thrusts his boots out towards her. "'I've worn through the soles of these. I need you to fix them.' Blackjack just pulls her knees tighter to her chest. "'Did you hear me? Repair these boots now.'

"Can't." "You haven't even looked at them." "Can't sew today." Knight sees his Bible on the ground, tossed aside next to a pile of garments waiting to be repaired. It belonged to his grandfather once. He had loaned it to the woman, hoping she might take comfort and guidance from it. He picks it up off the floor. "Do you remember what this book says?" "The Lord wants us to work faithfully." The woman remains frozen.

Something in Knight snaps. He can't put up with this anymore. This woman is being paid $50 a month to sew. She needs to do her job. That's it. Time you learned your lesson. He leans down, grabs her under the arms, and throws her over his shoulder like a sack of flour. Then, as she shrieks and struggles, he hauls her out of the tent. ♪

Ada Blackjack can't free her wrists. Lorne Knight has wrapped a rope around them and bound them tightly to the flagpole. She begs him to let her go as he wraps more rope around her ankles. "No! Stop! Please!" But Knight ignores her cries. He secures her ankles to the bottom of the pole. "Enough of this nonsense! You'll stay here until you agree to mend my boots. Do you understand?"

Blackjack wails, unable to answer. Knight leans forward, his face inches from hers. Do you understand? Blackjack shakes her head as she continues to cry. Fine, it's your decision. He walks away, leaving Blackjack tied to the pole. The sun is already setting. She's not dressed warmly enough to be outside the tents.

Soon, it will be dark and the temperature will plummet. How will she survive if night leaves her out here all night? She squirms, yanking on her hands and feet. The knots won't give. She screams, begging for night to come back. She swivels her head from left to right. What if a polar bear finds her like this? She'll be defenseless. An easy meal. Blackjack continues to cry.

She can't believe she came here, that she trusted these men. She should have abandoned them the way the other Inuits did. She'd be poor, but she'd be safe. Now, she wonders how she'll ever survive a winter with these horrible men, and she wonders if she'll ever see Bennett again.

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Outside, a blizzard rages. She peers out the entrance of the igloo. She can barely make out the smoke from the wood-burning stove in the winterhouse. She wishes she was in there, warming her hands by the fire. But yesterday, Lorne Knight banished her to the igloo, his latest punishment for her refusal to sew.

Blackjack's hands ache in their mittens. She tries to wiggle her fingers, but they're stiff and sore. She can barely move them. She'll have frostbite soon. Maybe this is where she'll die. When the storm subsides, night will find her body, blue and covered in frost. At that thought, adrenaline jolts through her. A thought enters her mind with shocking clarity.

She doesn't want to die. She wants to live, even here on this terrible island. She pulls her hood as tight as she can around her head and charges out into the snow. The wind howls in her ears. The gusts push her left and right. Snow whips into her face, stinging her cheeks and sticking to her eyelashes.

She plods forward, hoping she's heading in the right direction. At last, her feet hit against the blocks of snow the men have used to insulate the winter house. She calls out, Mr. Knight, Mr. Gale, let me in! The door opens and Knight looks out, bundled up in his reindeer parka. He eyes her warily. For a moment, Blackjack worries he won't let her in.

But he stands back, granting her entrance. Inside the main tent, Milton Gale lies in his sleeping bag. Crawford and Maurer are still away at the trapping camp. Blackjack doesn't say a word to either of the two men. She heads straight for the stove and extends her hands. After a few minutes, feeling starts to come back to them. She senses night looming behind her. If you want to stay in here, you have to sew.

Otherwise, you're going back outside. Blackjack bristles. But then she stops. She looks Knight in the eye. What should I make? Gloves and socks. Blackjack nods and gets to work. She sews all the way through dinner without stopping. And as she pushes the needle and thread through the fox fur, she feels like herself again. Ada Blackjack smears a tiny bit of butter on her finger and offers it to Vic.

The cat eagerly licks it off. Blackjack giggles. It's Christmas Day. Blackjack and the men are sitting in the kitchen tent, sharing the feasts she made. Crawford leans forward and takes his third slice of cake. "This cake is delicious." She feels the eyes of the men on her, waiting to see how she'll respond. A couple of weeks ago, she would have flirted and talked about the cakes she would bake for Crawford if they were married.

But her infatuation with Crawford is gone. Just like the fog that made it impossible for her to work. Now, she just gives Crawford a shy smile. "I'm glad you're enjoying it." Crawford and Frederick Maurer returned from their camp the night before, so the group could celebrate the holiday together. The five of them have done nothing but eat all day. Potatoes, bread, cake, and more. Knight told Blackjack she could make whatever she wanted.

As the men laugh and eat, Blackjack leans back and closes her eyes. For the first time in months, she's content. Everyone is happy and well-fed. They have plenty of stores to see them through the spring. That's when the game will return. And then, when summer comes, a supply ship will arrive to replenish their stores. She misses Bennett and the rest of her family. But she can do this.

She can survive this expedition. Alan Crawford is rowing with all his might. He and Milton Gale are in the dory, digging their oars deep into the ocean. They're trying to push their way through the ice floes blocking their way. In the distance, they can hear Lorne Knight and Frederick Marr yelling encouragement.

They're on a big ice floe, several hundred yards away, with the carcass of a dead walrus. Several hours ago, the men shot and killed the walrus. It's by far the biggest game they've caught yet — at least 2,000 pounds. Enough meat to feed them for weeks. Gale and Crawford took the dory back to camp to get more axes to cut up the meat. But by the time they rode back, the ocean ice had grown thicker.

Now, they can't get through. Their boat is too heavy and hard to maneuver. After two hours of struggle, Gale tosses his oar into the boat in frustration. "I wish we had an umiak. We'd be able to steer through this no problem." Crawford doesn't say anything. He hates to think badly of night. But his decision to buy the dory instead of an umiak sure seems like a mistake right now.

Gale yells out to Knight and Maurer. "You're going to have to come to us. Just carry as much meat as you can." Maurer and Knight jump across the ice floes and make it back to the dory. They can only manage to carry about 50 pounds of walrus meat, barely enough to feed them and the sled dogs for a day. They row back to camp in grim silence. Crawford feels a dark cloud settle over him.

Their string of bad luck seems endless. But at least the supply ship is coming soon. Ada Blackjack and Milton Gale walk across a meadow, collecting roots and greens for dinner. Vic runs between their feet, sniffing wildflowers and hunting mice.

It's August 1922, and many of the island's plants are still in full bloom. Blackjack stoops down to pick a dark green leafy plant that they've discovered tastes like watercress. Gail joins her. Do you think this would make a good tea?

Blackjack enjoys these foraging trips with Gale. They become good friends. Gale treats her like an equal, always calling her Ada instead of the woman or the native like the others. He even likes to help her cook and come up with new recipes. That's becoming a greater challenge now that their supplies are on the verge of running out. Blackjack tastes the leafy green plant. Might be worth trying his tea.

They all used to drink tea every day, but they ran out a month ago. They've switched to coffee, but it's not the same. I can't wait until the ship comes and we have real tea again. What about you, Ada? What are you looking forward to from the ship? Blackjack looks away. She hasn't told anyone about her decision until now. Going home.

Blackjack has heard that the ship will have both Inuit and white men on board who can relieve any members of the original expedition. The men have said they want to stay, but Blackjack is ready to go back to Nome. Even in just a year, she's made enough money to get Bennett out of the children's home. Gail nods. Oh, well, I'll miss you. Blackjack smiles. She'll miss him too.

She'll miss them all, even night. But she's decided it's time to go home. Vilhelmer Stefansson stands on a dock in Nome, Alaska, watching as the crates of potatoes, sugar, tea, ammo, and more supplies get loaded onto a ship named the Teddy Bear. Soon, it will be bound for Wrangell Island to relieve the men of his expedition.

Stephenson almost couldn't get the money together in time for this relief ship. It's August 19th, 1922, just weeks before the Arctic Ocean will start freezing over. But at the last possible minute, he convinced his old friend Orville Wright to donate to the mission. The aviation pioneer could relate to men with adventurous spirits and agreed to lend his support.

Standing beside Stephenson is the teddy bear's captain, Joe Bernard. Stephenson has known Bernard for over 10 years and trusts him to lead this mission. He hands Bernard a stack of envelopes. Lastly, here are the letters for the men from their families and such. We'll launch tomorrow. If the weather holds, we'll be there in about six days. Stephenson nods.

He's relieved that the supply ship is finally ready to go, even if he's confident the men on Wrangell are surviving just fine. He's taught them all they need to know to hunt, forge, and shelter in the Arctic. Then a cold gust of wind cuts through Stephenson's jacket, reminding him that at this time of year, the weather can turn in a heartbeat. What if it's already too late? What if the teddy bear fails to reach them?

The men would be without supplies for another nine months at least. He shakes off that thought. The men will be fine. The friendly Arctic will provide for their needs. It has to. Because if it doesn't, the fate of those four men and the woman accompanying them would be unthinkable.

This is episode one of our three-part series, Ada Blackjack, Stranded in the Arctic.

A quick note about our scenes. In most cases, we can't know exactly what was said, but everything is based on historical research. If you'd like to learn more about this story, we recommend Ada Blackjack, A True Story of Survival in the Arctic by Jennifer Niven and Marooned in the Arctic by Peggy Caravantes. I'm your host, Cassie DePeckel. This episode is written by Austin Rackless. Our editor is Sean Mervive.

Our audio engineers are Sergio Enriquez and Andrew Law. Sound design is by Joe Richardson. Produced by Matt Almos and Emily Frost. Our senior producer is Andy Herman. Our managing producer is Tanja Thigpen. Our executive producers are Stephanie Jens and Marsha Louis. We're Wondery. Wondery.

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