passageways) to and from saloon.
K –cook’s galley. B –chart room. dy –space for dynamo. d –main hatch. e –long boats. i –main hold. l –under (orlop) hold. f –fore hatch. n –fore hold. o –under (orlop) fore hold. p –windlass post. 1 –foremast. 2 –mainmast. 3 –mizzenmast.
But if for some reason the ice did catch, or the ship did not ride up, it nonetheless would be able to take whatever that implacable environment had in store: it would be built to the greatest measures possible for strength (its size, again, making that all the more practical), using the best materials for that purpose. First an eel, then an elephant.
With only two years to meet Nansen’s pressing schedule, Archer rushed to procure materials, many of them special ordered to ensure the long-term structural integrity of a vessel facing such duress, but also for the safety and comfort of the crew during long, cold, dark, winters of unknown number. Then in the fall of 1891, the feverish yet exacting work began, in Archer’s boatyard by the sea, not far from where he played as a boy.
The keel was a fourteen-inch square of American elm, with two lengths spliced together and 102 feet long overall. Archer chose elm because of its strength (its interlocking grain makes it nearly impossible to split) and its relative rot resistance, essential traits in a location that is so critical yet persistently moist. From the keel, at either end, curved up great oak timbers that were bolted together into four feet of solid wood at the pointed bow and stern above the rudder and propeller wells. Those ends, once the ship was planked, were “shod with iron casing” for ice ramming, forward or backward, whenever necessary.
From this backbone rose the “ribs,” the frames that would give the Fram its shape and to which the planking would be affixed. The nearly foot-thick frames, each two pieces riveted together lengthwise, were of straight-grained oak, a hard and durable wood that grips screws, nails, and spikes well. Flat iron straps immobilized the frame joints. The frames were unusually closely spaced, only an inch and a half apart for the entire length of the ship, providing extraordinary skeletal support for the hull. Between them, and between the inner lining and first layer of outer planking, a mixture of coal tar (a traditional sealing/preserving compound), softwood pitch, and sawdust was heated up and poured in, and when cooled it sealed the spaces with a flexible, waterproof binding.
There were, remarkably, four separate layers of planking for the hull. A “lining” of pitch pine boards four to six inches thick was attached to the inside of the frames. Then, to the outside were two layers of oak planking, each bolted independently to frames and keel, the first three inches thick and the second four inches. Finally, covering all that was yet another “ice sheathing”: three inches of greenheart, an exceptionally hard South American wood that could stand up to the severest pounding and abrasion. The ice sheathing was spiked in rather than bolted on, so that if it was stripped away it would not take the other planking with it. All together, this was more than two feet of solid wood laid on, thicker than the cannonball-resisting hull of the famed USS Constitution (“Old Ironsides”). The Fram ’s protective hide was a whopping three feet thick.
The triple exterior planking nearly encased the keel below, leaving only three or four inches exposed, and that which was exposed was rounded off. This would prevent the ice from grabbing onto it and flipping the ship on its side. Archer knew full well the sacrifice this meant for sailing, as a conventional ship this size would have a deep, heavy keel for stability and control: the Fram would roll, yaw, and wallow significantly in heavy, following seas and have a tough time making headway into the wind. He also knew that, though causing extra bouts of malde mer for the crew, and becoming