Voyage to the North Pole | Siberia | 5
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Wondery Plus subscribers can listen to Against the Odds early and ad-free right now. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Engineer George Melville heaves his weight against the tiller, struggling to turn his small whale boat in the raging ocean waters. A wave smashes the boat's side, blinding him with freezing spray. Ten other men huddle in the sailboat with him, bailing water with buckets.

One man vomits over the side. Melville wipes the stinging water from his eyes and calls out to a sailor keeping lookout on the bow. Can you see DeLong's boat? Just barely. Off our stern to starboard. Melville squints through the rain, then shoves the tiller again. He marvels at the violence of the storm.

It's the evening of September 12th, 1881, three months since their ship USS Jeanette was crushed in the polar pack ice and sank to the bottom of the Arctic Ocean. After that, Melville and the Jeanette's other 32 crewmen had no choice but to march over the ice, dragging three small boats along with them. Now they're trying to sail those three boats to northern Siberia, over roughly 100 miles of open ocean.

They launched this morning in calm seas under clear skies, but within an hour, black clouds and violent weather swept in. They've been trapped in hell ever since. The other two boats are helmed by expedition leader George DeLong and his second in command, Charles Chip.

Before they launched, DeLong gave Melville and Chip orders to keep their boats within shouting distance. But the driving wind and surging waves have made that impossible. As Melville turns the tiller, he searches behind him. He can just make out Chip's boat in the distance. It's the least seaworthy of the boats, and probably staying afloat only because of Chip's skills.

DeLong's boat is closer, but Melville's boat is too fast and keeps running ahead. He decides to try and slow his boat down. Crew, lower the sails and hold out oars for drag. Once the sails come down, Melville tries maneuvering toward DeLong's boat. But that only makes things more miserable.

They're riding against the waves now, which violently rock the whale boat from side to side. Several big waves crash over the boat, soaking them in and collecting inside the boat faster than they can bail. They'll sink if this keeps up.

So Melville makes a decision. He maintains the slow pace until DeLong's boat pulls within 100 yards. Then Melville cups his hands around his mouth and bellows with every ounce of breath in his lungs. "We're making a run for land!" But DeLong holds his hand to his ear, signaling that he can't hear him. Melville screams again, but DeLong repeats the gesture.

Finally, Melville resorts to gesturing himself, waving his arms and pointing. DeLonge seems to signal back, "Okay." Melville turns to his crew. "Boys to sail!" As they work, Melville scans the sea for Chip's boat. He thinks he catches a glimpse of it rising on a wave, then it vanishes.

But Melville can't think about that now. When the sail is hoisted, he turns the boat south. He's got his own men to save. In our fast-paced, screen-filled world, it can be all too easy to lose that sense of imagination and wonder. If you're looking for new ways to ignite your creativity and open your mind to fresh perspectives, then let Audible be your guide. Whether you listen to stories, motivation, or any genre you love, Audible is the place

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Progressive Casualty Insurance Company & Affiliates. Price and coverage match limited by state law. From Wondery, I'm Mike Corey, and this is Against the Odds. In 1881, after their ship was destroyed by polar pack ice, the 33 crewmen of USS Jeanette abandoned their quest for the North Pole and set off for Siberia.

Their ship had been trapped in the ice for nearly two years and the crew was exhausted, frostbitten, and running out of food. Their plan was to make contact with the indigenous communities of the Lena Delta in northern Siberia and beg for food and shelter. But the crew had no idea what awaited them on the other side of the water.

A gigantic maze of marshes, swamps, and raging rivers covering over 12,000 square miles. And their maps of the area were woefully inadequate. This is Episode 5, Siberia.

Captain George DeLong tosses another bucket of freezing water over the side of his boat. After several hours of bailing, his back aches and he can't feel his hands anymore. But he doesn't let his discomfort show. To rally his 13 men, he points south toward the greenish-brown shoreline on the horizon. Just a few more miles, men! Stay the course!

DeLong's crew rode out a hellish storm for 48 hours. But now, the morning of September 16th, they can finally see Siberia. Salvation! They're going to make it.

But now his boat scrapes to a halt. DeLong looks down and groans. He can see thick brown silt just two feet below the water's surface, and they're still miles from the shoreline. Wearily, he turns to his men. Everyone out. We'll have to wade ashore. They hop over the side one by one, wincing and cursing as their feet hit the freezing water.

Without the men's weight, their 20-foot boat is floating again, so they guide it by hand through the shallow water. It is a terrible slog. The silt beneath their feet is like cement and it nearly sucks off their boots. After an hour and just over a mile of progress, DeLong orders everyone back into the boat to rest and eat. They break out some of their last remaining rations: a pound of canned beef tongue.

While he eats, DeLong removes his map of the Lena Delta from its metal tube. He studies the labyrinth of ponds, marshes, and islands, trying to pinpoint their location. It's a relief to finally be back on known land. Terra Cognita.

But the more he looks at the map, the more worried he gets. His rescue plan depends on finding villages and begging for help. And the map indicates there should be several here along the shore. But DeLong sees no sign of any human life. His heart sinks right into his muddy boots. How far inland will they need to push to find help? And can they move fast enough?

Engineer George Melville tosses down his pack, then slumps onto the snow-covered ground, utterly exhausted. It took five sleepless nights and terrifying days on the open water, but he and his men have finally reached shore. After losing sight of DeLong and Chip's boats, Melville rode out the storm as best he could, then directed his whale boat south.

He thought that it would be the fastest route to the Lena Delta, but it shouldn't have taken them five days. He fears the storm must have blown them off course.

Gather some driftwood, men. Let's get a fire going.

The land around them is rolling tundra, treeless slopes of snow with brown grass and green moss poking through in patches. The remains of hundreds of dead trees litter the beach, washed downriver from some forest farther inland. Melville puts his sodden boots back on and gets up to gather some firewood.

But soon, an argument breaks out. Navigator John Dainenhauer is having heated words with naturalist Raymond Newcomb, who somehow, even after months away from the ship, still smells like preservative chemicals. They're arguing over how to build the fire. "No, you're stacking the wood too close, Newcomb. The base needs air to breathe. I've made a thousand fires before. Back off, you ugly cyclops."

Danenhauer is still wearing a patch over his infected eye, and he hates when the other men tease him about it. Now he snaps. He leaps at Newcomb and tries to choke him. Melville and the others step in to tear them apart. Danenhauer, stand down! I'll be damned if I take orders from a naturalist or an engineer!

Melville considers knocking him flat, but lets Dan and Howard stomp away instead. It's important that Melville keeps the peace. So he turns to help Newcomb finish building the fire. Their top priority right now is to get warm, and after that, to find a village somewhere in this vast landscape.

George Melville climbs to the top of a small hill, looks around, then squints at the map in his hands. He lets out a frustrated sigh. It appears that the map makers are completely wrong. After landing two days ago, Melville's crew found a channel of the Lena River and started rowing their whale boat upstream. According to their maps, they should have passed several villages by now, but they haven't seen a single one.

Melville needs to get to Boulogne, a large village where the crews of the three boats planned to rendezvous if they got separated. It's clearly marked on the map, about 100 miles from them as the crow flies. But can the map be trusted? Melville folds up the map and turns to head back to the boat. He takes one last look upriver, then sees something that makes him jump.

400 yards ahead, just emerging from a bend, he spots three men, each paddling a canoe. He waves at them and hollers. Help! Help us, please!

But the three men start paddling away from them, up a tributary. Melville can't tell if they haven't heard him or he's scared them off. He runs down the hill and leaps into the boat. "After them! We can't lose contact!" Melville has never rowed so hard in his life. He keeps looking up, fearful the natives in their lighter, faster canoes will disappear into the maze of riverbends and tributaries.

Two of the canoes do indeed vanish around a bend, but one canoe stops and the native man paddling it turns and eyes them warily. He appears to be a teenager wearing a fur coat and fur leggings with shaggy black hair and bronze skin.

When they're ten yards apart, Melville's crew stops. Melville holds up a strip of pemmican jerky. He bites off a piece and smiles, holding it up for the teenager to inspect. Then he rubs his belly. "Look! Mmm! Yum! Good!" The teen hesitates, then paddles over. Melville keeps a smile on his face, but he whispers to his men from the side of his mouth, "When he gets close, grab his canoe."

When the young man reaches for the pemmican, two of Melville's men lunge for the boy's canoe. The teen screams and panics, swinging his paddle like a club. Come here. Please, please calm down. We mean no harm.

After a tense minute, the teenager finally stops swinging. Melville looks up and sees that the other two canoes have returned. The men paddling glare at him and keep their distance. Melville smiles at them, then turns back to the teenager and pats his chest. I'm George. The young man pats his own chest. Tomat. Melville nods. Then he offers Tomat the rest of the pemmican, which the young man takes and gobbles down.

In pantomime, Melville tries to explain that his men are suffering and sick. They need food and shelter. Can Tomat take them to his village? It's not clear how much Tomat understands, but he nods. Melville then orders his men to let go of Tomat's canoe.

Melville holds his breath, nervous Tomat will dart away, but he doesn't. The young man shouts to his two companions, then gestures for the men in the whale boat to follow them. Melville nearly melts with relief. They've found the help they need, and they're going to live. George Melville drops his gear and offers up a tired smile to the dozen people staring at him.

After their meeting on the river, Tomat and his companions guided Melville's men on a 10-day journey upriver. Winding among different branches of the delta, they passed so many different islands and rode up so many inlets that by now Melville has no idea where they are.

Today, September 29th, they arrived at this village on an island in the middle of the Lena River. It's just a few wooden huts insulated with packed sod and snow, and maybe three dozen inhabitants. Melville needs the help of these villagers. Without them, he and his men have zero chance of reaching the rendezvous point at Boulogne.

They would get hopelessly lost along the way, so no matter how much he just wants to drop to the ground and sleep, he keeps smiling and waves his hand as he steps forward. "Hello, hello, I'm… I'm George." He pats his chest, but the villagers just keep staring.

To win them over, Melville rustles through his pack and orders his men to do the same. They begin handing out gifts: colored cloths, glass rosary beads, and every man with a photograph of a family member holds it up. While the villagers examine the gifts and photos, Melville pulls out a map and beckons over Tomat. The young man has proven to be an excellent guide. He's picking up English quickly, and Melville can already communicate with him a little.

Melville points to the map. We go balloon. Balloon? Tomorrow? Tomat shakes his head no. He points to the river and gestures. It takes a minute, but Melville thinks he's saying that they need to wait for the river to freeze over. Otherwise, it's too dangerous.

But Melville wants to move now. He finally interrupts. "Ice, when? When?" Tomat holds up all ten fingers twice. "Twenty days?" "No. Ask your people. We go to Boulogne now. Go. Ask." Tomat seems reluctant, but he does ask.

It's a short discussion. The other villagers recoil at Tomat's words and stare at Melville. Melville walks over and tries to explain about their missing comrades, but no matter how much he pleads and gestures, they shake their heads.

Melville kicks the ground in frustration. Without the villagers' help, he and his men are stuck on this godforsaken island for three weeks, maybe longer. They have food and shelter, but what about DeLong and Ship and their groups? All Melville can do is hope that they too have found some native villagers to help them. Otherwise, he can't imagine what hardships they might be enduring. No, no!

Captain George DeLong tightens his grip on Hans Erickson, who lies squirming on the ground beneath him. Erickson's shoes and socks are peeled off, and Dr. James Ambler has his foot in a vice grip between his knees. In one hand, Ambler clutches a knife. No.

Erickson's feet are horribly frostbitten. The toes look black and the smell of rot is making DeLong's stomach turn. To save Erickson's foot, Ambler is amputating his toes. At last, the horrible procedure is over.

Ambler binds Erickson's feet in bandages. DeLong pats the man's shoulder and stands. He feels woozy, but as much as he'd like to lie down, he has an important task now. It's mid-October. DeLong and his crew have been trudging along the Lena River for weeks. After trying to haul their 20-foot boat to shore, they were finally forced to abandon it in the mudflats and continue on foot.

They've seen no sign of the men from Melville's boat, nor the one helmed by Charles Chip. They could be dead or a hundred miles away. DeLong has no idea. All he can do is lead his men toward the rendezvous point of Boulogne.

They've seen some signs of civilization, a few abandoned huts, but not a single other human being. Worse, there's far less game than they were hoping for. Just a few birds. DeLong has restricted the men to near-starvation rations. They have maybe a week's worth of food left.

As a result, the men are getting weak, especially with winter coming on, and the temperature dropping into the 20s at night. Most can barely march a mile or two each day. So DeLong has decided to change tactics. He walks over to camp and finds William Nindemann, the burly German who nearly lost a finger earlier in the voyage. Nindemann, come with me. DeLong leads Nindemann away until they're out of earshot from the other men. Listen.

DeLong outlines his plan. He wants Nindaman and Noros to follow the river south, further inland, as fast as they can manage.

He'll keep the others marching behind, and as soon as Nindaman and Noros find help, they can double back and find the rest of the group. But the two men must leave now. Given the condition of his crew, DeLong knows it won't be long before they start succumbing to starvation.

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Head over to Symbiotica.com and use code ODDS for 20% off and free shipping on your subscription order. George Melville lies in a hut amid his men. He's curled beneath a fur blanket, trying to nap. But it's impossible with the noise. He finally rises to an elbow.

John Cole ignores Melville. Instead, he continues shadowboxing, shuffling his feet and throwing punches in the air. Cole was one of the stronger men on Melville's crew, but over the past weeks, he's gone raving mad. He thinks he's a heavyweight boxer, and that he's missing a title fight back in his native Ireland. Melville sighs and lies back.

He wants to punch the air in frustration too. He hates being idle. Today is October 16th. They've been stuck in this island village for over two weeks. The natives have been beyond generous, sharing food and blankets and giving his men a whole hut. But they absolutely refuse to guide them to balloon, even though there's ice on the river now.

They just say it's too thin, and the delay is excruciating. Melville's other crewmates are out there somewhere, men he's been through hell with, men he cares about more than almost anyone in the world. He needs to make sure that they're okay. While Melville broods, there's a knock at the door. John Cole turns and starts throwing jabs. Melville orders the other sailors to hold him, then opens the door.

He's startled by who he sees standing there. It's not a native man, but a white man, tall and bearded, with a jagged scar across his cheek and ear. By his muscular frame and posture, Melville senses that he's a soldier. They begin speaking, using a mix of the little Russian that Melville knows and bits of the native language he's picked up.

The man calls himself Kuzma, and to Melville's surprise, the man nods vigorously when Melville mentions the Jeanette. Kuzma says that Russian officials have spread word far and wide, asking people to keep watch for the crew.

Hearing this, Melville offers Kuzma their whaling boat and 500 rubles, a king's fortune in these parts, if he can go to Balloon and bring back any word of DeLong or Chip's whereabouts.

Kuzma's eyes go wide at the mention of so much money. He agrees to leave at once and to tell authorities in Balloon about Melville's group and their location. Kuzma explains the round-trip journey will take five days. Melville asks to send one of his men along, but Kuzma refuses. He says it will be faster if he travels alone. Melville sighs and watches Kuzma hurry off.

He's glad to finally have some way of getting news to balloon and learning about DeLong or Chip's cruise. But he has no idea if this Kuzma can be trusted.

William Nindemann scans the landscape around him, searching for any sort of hut or shack amid the snow-covered hills along the river. But there's nothing. The sun is sinking, and it appears that he and Louis Noros face another long, chilly night under the stars.

It's October 19th. For the past ten days, Nindemann and Luis Noros have been trudging south. At first, they made good progress, 13 miles a day. But the lack of food has left them dizzy and dragging. There's simply no game anywhere. The last thing they ate was a lemming they caught five days ago. Nindemann scans the hills one last time. Then, he grabs Noros' shoulder. Look, is that a hut?

Noros shouts for joy. It is! It was simply hidden under the snow. They scramble towards it, fighting their aching legs. But ten yards from the door, Nindaman notices the awful stench of dead fish. Inside the hut, it's even worse. In the dim light, Nindaman makes out a waist-high pile of fish guts, covered in blue mold.

But after five hungry days, Nindaman's stomach speaks louder than his caution. He steps forward and picks up a fishtail. He looks back at Noros. "You think it's edible?" Noros shrugs, so Nindaman holds his nose and takes a nibble. It's quite dry, like fishy sawdust, and it's not as rancid as he feared. He swallows and nods at Noros, who grabs a fish of his own.

However awful the taste, they need something in their stomachs to have any hope of surviving. Captain George DeLong tosses another driftwood log on the bonfire, then pulls his coat around his neck. He leans in to keep warm, but it barely helps. The last thing he ate was a seal-skin patch from his pants yesterday. It filled his belly a little, but nothing more. It's October 25th, just before dusk.

He sent William Nindemann and Louis Noros ahead 16 days ago, but there's been no sign of them yet. In the fading light, the long sees his men sprawled around the fire. The stronger ones are sitting up. The cook Assam, Dr. James Ambler. Most of the rest though, including the reporter Jerome Collins, lie on the ground, moaning. A few mutter incoherently.

Hans Ericsson died a few days ago. His feet simply rotted away and he succumbed to gangrene. Their ace hunter, Alexei, has died too. So unless they get lucky and stumble across a frozen carcass, they have little chance of finding more food.

But DeLong hasn't given up. His group can't walk anymore, but they take turns keeping the fire burning with driftwood. Every morning, DeLong adds grass, making it as smoky as possible, to act as a signal. He's hoping Nindemann and Noros will be able to see it from afar. He still believes that somehow the crew will be reunited. Maybe Melville and ship's groups are actually not that far away, and they'll see the smoke.

And if the smoke signal doesn't work, well, DeLong turns behind him. There's a hill there. If worse comes to worse, he's planning to drag his expedition ledgers and specimens up there to keep them safe from any spring floods. He has to protect their findings, the legacy of the Jeanette.

But that's a last resort. Until then, he'll keep building fires, trying to stay warm, and hoping against hope that someone will find them. William Nindemund lies in the hut near the pile of moldy fish, clutching his belly and groaning.

Ever since eating the moldy fish a few days ago, he's been suffering from stomach cramps and bloody diarrhea. Although the food restored his strength a little, he can no longer move without pain. Lying next to him, Luis Noros looks even worse. Gradually, a sound penetrates his mental fog. It's a huffing noise. Something breathing.

He raises his weary head and sees the door of the hut ajar and a reindeer poking its nose in. What luck! Nindermann reaches slowly for his rifle. He'll only get one shot. Suddenly, the door flies open. Nindermann swings the gun forward, ready to fire, and is startled to see a native man standing there. A reindeer team, harnessed to a sleigh, stands behind him.

At the sight of the gun, the man drops to his knees and begins babbling, no doubt begging for his life. Nindaman quickly drops the gun and throws up his hands. "No, we mean no harm. Please, please, we need help." Slowly, the man rises to his feet. He looks wary. Nindaman smiles to calm him, then gestures at his belly. "We're starving. We need food. Food."

Nindaman keeps repeating the word and pointing toward his mouth and stomach, hoping he can make himself understood. "Food! Food!" Noros tries too. The man frowns, then nods and holds up three fingers, waving them for emphasis. He also begins pantomiming something. Nindaman thinks he's saying that he's going away, but that he'll return. But Nindaman can't tell how soon.

Three days? Three weeks? Or does he mean something else? Then he hops onto his sleigh and snaps the reins. Nindaman yells for him to wait, but he's already gone. Nindaman flops back down and stares at the ceiling, cursing himself for brandishing the gun. What if he scared the man off? He finally drifts to sleep, certain he'll never see the man again. But just before dusk,

He hears the reindeer again, and through the door, he sees the man with the sleigh, along with two other reindeer sleighs behind him, driven by two more native men. "Noros, wake up! Noros, wake up!" Nindaman turns to watch them arrive. His eyes sting with tears. For the first time in weeks, he lets himself believe that they might actually live.

William Nindemann lies in a hut next to a fire, quietly sobbing. A week ago, he would have given anything to be in this position. Warm at last, his stomach packed with venison. Yet, instead of feeling relieved, he's utterly miserable.

Six days earlier, the slaves carried him and Luis Noros to this village, several miles inland from the river. For two days, he and Noros did little but sleep and eat while the natives nursed them back to health. God bless them. But on the third day, Nindemann began begging them to return downriver to search for George DeLong and other Jeannette crew members.

But no matter how much Nindemann begged, no matter how many diagrams he drew in the dirt, the natives simply couldn't grasp what he was saying. And they won't leave the village. In fact, there's some sort of festival going on this week with dancing and feasting.

Ninderman knows the odds of the others surviving are dropping each day, but he also knows that he and Noros are still too weak to make the trek back on their own. He's never felt more helpless. As someone enters the hut, Ninderman wipes his eyes and looks up. He expects to see Noros, who went to take a walk earlier. Instead, he sees a tall, muscular Russian with a jagged scar across his cheek. The man points at him.

Nindermann nods, startled. The man frowns and shakes his head, but he keeps repeating over and over.

Finally, Nindaman digs something out of his pack. It's a note that DeLong wrote before he and Noros went ahead, explaining the dire circumstances of the crew. Nindaman gestures at it, pointing north and repeating DeLong's name and the name of the ship. Suddenly, it clicks with the Russian. He seems thrilled. Nindaman nods and holds up his fingers. Yes, yes, yes.

Twelve more men. The Russian smiles and holds up five fingers. Ninderman moans. Not this game again. Five? Five what? What do you mean? Hey, hey, come back! But the Russian has already departed. That was Ninderman's only copy of the message, written on the only scrap of paper he and Noros brought, and a complete stranger has just run off with it.

Engineer George Melville hops off the reindeer sleigh before it even comes to a stop. He grabs his guide Tomat, pulling him toward the circle of huts. "Which one? Which hut? Where are they?" Tomat calls out a question to the villagers nearby, then points when they answer. Melville hurries forward. It's dusk on November 2nd, and Melville is so excited he's nearly trembling.

He wasn't sure if Kuzma could be trusted, but he has to admit, the Russian really came through. Thirteen days after Kuzma left Melville, he reappeared, babbling about the Jeannette. Then he handed Melville a note. Seeing the message from his captain, Melville whooped with joy. He'd almost given up hope of anyone from the other boats surviving.

Kuzma told the natives the location of the village where he'd been given the note. Melville then convinced two guides to take him there: Tomat and another man named Vasili. Their journey here was harrowing, over thin river ice that often cracked under the runners of their sleigh. But they made it. Melville is now about to see his fellow sailors for the first time in 51 days.

Melville throws open the hut's door, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness inside. Soon, he sees the unmistakable outline of Luis Noros, cutting some bread with a knife. Melville steps forward and smiles. Noros, it's me! Noros looks dazed, then gasps in recognition. Melville, I couldn't see you with the light behind you.

Melville hears a rustling in the corner. He turns his head to see William Nindemann sitting up beneath a reindeer fur blanket. My God, Melville? Nindemann scrambles to his feet as Noros drops his knife and throws his arms around Melville. Soon, all three men are laughing and embracing. Hot tears well up in Melville's eyes. Tell me.

How are the others? Are they near? Ninderman's smile fades. We went ahead to get help. They were in rough shape when we left them. Then there's no time to delay. Draw me a map so I can find them. He pulls a pencil and paper from his coat. Come first light, he's going after DeLong and the other sailors still lost in the wilderness.

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Engineer George Melville winces as his dog sled hits another bump. His legs have ached for days now and each jolt sends pain shooting up his shins. Every mile of this rescue mission has been agony. The blizzard isn't helping either. Every time the wind picks up, it's practically a whiteout.

The days are blending together, but Melville thinks it's November 20th, which means he and his guides, Tomat and Vasili, have spent two wretched weeks searching for Captain DeLong and his men. They've covered hundreds of miles, zigzagging over both frozen river ice and land, going from village to village, checking every abandoned fishing and hunting hut along the way.

From what Tomat and Vasily say, their people never ventured this far north in November. And it's plain to see why. The temperature must be 20 below.

Nindemann and Noros were too weak to join Melville, so he's retracing their steps as best he can. So far, he's found the remains of several campfires and the hut with the putrid fish. But there's been no sign of the others, not even a scrap of clothing or empty tin can. It's infuriating and deeply worrying.

Suddenly, the wind kicks up so fiercely that it shoves Melville's dog sideways. His sled careens to a stop. Melville gets off and untangles the harnesses. When he looks up again, he sees Tomat and Vasili glaring at him. They insist on waiting out this wind. Reluctantly, Melville agrees.

He's exhausted anyway. He pulls out a fur-lined sleeping bag from the sled and curls up inside it. He's snoring within minutes. His dreams are uneasy. Of plunging through river ice. Of finding George DeLong's frozen corpse. He's awakened by the sound of dogs barking. He sets up to yell at them to stop and gapes in astonishment at the scene unfolding before him.

His dogs are restless because their fellow dogs on the other sled are pulling away, urged on by Vasili and Tomat. His guides are abandoning him. In a panic, Melville rips his rifle from the sled pack. He aims just over their heads and fires. The sled halts instantly. Melville staggers toward them. "Where the hell do you think you're going?" As he approaches, both men fall to their knees and beg Melville for their lives.

Seeing this, his anger evaporates. He realizes that this search mission is putting his guide's lives in danger, as well as his own. Then he realizes something else. In all likelihood, DeLong and the others have perished. When Ninderman and Norse left them, they had almost no food, and that was six weeks ago. Perhaps some other natives miraculously found them, but otherwise...

their goners. Melville lays the rifle down and approaches Tomat and Vasili. They look terrified, but he reaches out his hand and lifts each man to his feet. Then he points behind them in the direction of their village and says, it's time to go home.

Emma DeLong enters the grocery store and makes her way to the counter. It's December 1881, and she's picking up items for Christmas dinner at her sister's home here in Iowa.

Emma hands her list to the clerk behind the counter. Potatoes, cornmeal, molasses. As the clerk fills her order, something catches Emma's eye near the register. It's a copy of the local newspaper, and there's a blaring headline about her husband's expedition. Another ship returns empty-handed. Mystery of the Jeanette deepens.

The words strike her like a blow. It's the third rescue ship this year that's failed to locate George. And that bastard publisher Gordon Bennett never bothered to tell her. Emma's mind reels. Can George survive yet another winter on the ice? Is he already dead? She wonders whether she should conceal the news from her daughter, Sylvie.

She exits the store with the newspaper and starts walking home. She's going to write Bennett the harshest letter yet, but within a few steps, she hears a shout. Ma'am, you forgot your things. Emma turns to see the clerk. Hey, are you alright, ma'am? Oh, I'm so sorry. I'm just a little absent-minded these days.

Oh, and I took your newspaper, too. The clerk glances at the headline, then back at Emma. A look of recognition flashes across the clerk's face, followed by one of sympathy. You're Mrs. DeLong, aren't you? I've seen you around town. I'm just so sorry about your husband.

Emma follows the clerk back into the store, blinking back her tears. She avoids the gaze of the other customers, who are all now staring at her. She knows she should feel grateful, but instead, she wishes the ground would just swallow her up.

Will this be her life now? People pointing and whispering about her, pitying her as nothing more than the widow of a failed North Pole explorer? She thanks the clerk again, then carries the groceries back to her sister's house, wondering how she's going to make it through another Christmas without her husband.

George Melville trudges up a snow-crusted hill in the Lena Delta, his eyes fixed on a rifle that's sticking out of the snow. A black flag tied to the stalk billows in the wind. Melville draws closer. He recognizes that rifle. It belongs to Alexei, the dogsled master who'd been part of DeLong's crew. They must be close, he realizes.

It's March 23rd, 1882, four months since the driving snow forced Melville to abandon his last rescue attempt with Tomat and Vasili.

He spent the winter recuperating in the provincial capital of Yakutsk. He's proud to say that every man under his care survived, even the one-eyed John Danenhauer and the raving mad Jack Cole. But he knew he had to make one last attempt to try to find the men from USS Jeanette who are still missing. The wait for the spring thaw was interminable, but finally here they are.

He and William Nindemund have packed several sledges of food and gear, and hired a half dozen native guides. He looks up from the rifle, and spots something else in the snow. A scrap of seal skin. It has stitching on it, meaning it's probably from a pair of pants. He grimaces to see human teeth marks as well. Clearly, a starving man tried to eat it. He shows it to one of his guides. "Look, look here."

Melville and the guide continue up the hill. Along the way, Melville sees a tea kettle, and then at the crest of the hill, he sees something else, lying half buried. George DeLong's journals, his record of the mission. A yard beyond that, there's another dark object, something sticking up crookedly.

Melville bends down and begins brushing off the snow, then recoils to see an elbow. It's a frozen corpse. "Nindaman, come here!" While he waits for Nindaman, Melville picks through the journals in the snow to find the latest one. He begins scanning the last few pages. It details an unending litany of suffering.

Melville reads that after DeLong sent Nindeman and Noros ahead, his party more or less disintegrated. One by one, the sailors began dying of starvation and exhaustion. The last three alive were DeLong, Dr. James Ambler, and the cook, Assam.

In the entry marked October 29th, 1881, DeLong explains his plans to get his precious journals up this hill to preserve the record of his mission's achievements from the spring floods of the Delta. They apparently succeeded. The last journal entry appeared on October 30th, after which DeLong presumably died, five months ago. By the time Melville finished his reading, Nindemann has appeared.

They start to brush off the icy body in the snow. With a pang, Melville soon sees George DeLong's bearded face. He looks surprisingly peaceful. Melville notices something else, too. Clutched in DeLong's hand, startlingly bright in the barren white tundra, is the blue silk flag from his wife Emma. The flag he'd hoped to fly when they reached the North Pole.

Of the 33 sailors on USS Jeanette, just 13 survived. No trace was ever found of the men on Charles Chip's boat. Only William Nindemann and Louis Noros survived from DeLong's crew. But all men under George Melville's care survived, including John Danenhower, the navigator, Raymond Newcomb, the naturalist, and Charles Tong Singh, the steward.

after discovering the bodies of de long and nine others in siberia melville and nindaman buried them under rocks on a nearby hill and erected a 20-foot cross in 1883 their bodies were disinterred and reburied in the united states for his heroics william nindamon earned the congressional medal of honor he died in 1913

John Dienenhauer ended up losing his infected eye and wore an eye patch the rest of his life. To make money, he hit the lecture circuit and became a fierce critic of DeLong's leadership. He later fell into a deep depression and committed suicide in 1887.

To the public, George Melville became the hero of the expedition. Upon his return to America, people wrote songs and poems about him, as well as numerous articles in the New York Herald. He personally handed DeLong's journals and charts to Emma in New York. In later years, Melville rose up in the ranks of the Navy, becoming its chief engineer and a rear admiral. He died in Philadelphia in 1912 at age 71.

Using her husband's journals, Emma published several books about the Jeannette expedition and became George's most strident defender. She never remarried and died in 1940 at age 91. She was buried beside George in the Bronx.

The theory of the open polar sea died with the return of Melville's men. From then on, geographers knew that a permanent ice cap sits atop the planet, and no exploration team would reach the North Pole until two men did so in 1909, traveling mostly by dogsled.

Today, due to climate change, there's less and less ice in the Arctic every year. The region could be completely ice-free in the summer by the 2050s. If so, a ship could possibly sail there and complete the mission that George DeLong and his 32 comrades on the Jeannette never could.

On our next episode, I speak with historian and author Hampton Sides. His book about the expedition made by Captain DeLong and his men is called In the Kingdom of Ice, The Grand and Terrible Polar Voyage of the USS Jeanette.

If you like Against the Odds, you can binge all episodes early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Prime members can listen ad-free on Amazon Music. And before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at wondery.com slash survey.

This is the fifth episode of our five-part series, Voyage to the North Pole. A quick note about our scenes. In most cases, we can't exactly know what was said, but everything is based on historical research. If you'd like to learn more about this event, we recommend the books In the Kingdom of Ice by Hampton Sides, Icebound by Leonard Guttridge, and In the Lena Delta by George Melville.

I'm your host, Mike Corey. Sam Keen wrote this episode. Our editor is Steve Benessi. Sound design by Rob Schilliga. Audio engineer is Sergio Enriquez. Coordinating producer is Desi Blaylock. Produced by Emily Frost. Managing producer is Matt Gant. Senior managing producer is Ryan Lohr. Senior producer is Andy Herman. Executive producers are Jenny Lauer-Beckman, Stephanie Jens, Marshall Louis, and Erin O'Flaherty for Wondery.

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