Read Trial by Ice for Free Online

Washington Navy Yard. Mixing with the rasp of saws, the flat thud of caulking hammers reverberated in the cool light, driving oakum into any seam that might leak. Red-hot rivets glowed atop coal-fed fires, waiting their turn to be pounded into iron plate. The tang of hot pitch and burning charcoal filled the air. All around a small ship in the dry dock, an army of workers swarmed like ants infesting a honey bun.
    The hull was stripped down to the keel, and then the ship's bare ribs were planked with six-inch solid oak. New caulk filled the seams before the oak beneath the waterline vanished under fresh copper sheathing. To batter through ice, the bows were layered with more oak until almost solid, then iron plate secured to a sharp prow. As an added precaution, a watertight compartment was built behind the bows for those who had doubts that heavy sea ice might not respect modern engineering.
    Hall moved about the Navy Yard with growing enthusiasm, making suggestions, approving modifications, and adding his knowledge to the refitting. His years spent on the ice gave him a good grasp of what it could do. Rocked, tossed, and driven by capricious winds as well as the currents, the nature of the pack ice could change without warning. In minutes a stolid ice field, placidly encasing the ship and the sea around it, could turn into an attacking wall of frozen water. Offshore winds could drive slabs of ice the size of buildings onto each other like scattered dominoes. Grindingand slithering tons of advancing ice would crush anything in their path. Scores of flattened campsites littering the shoreline attested to the dwellings of unwary Inuit demolished by sudden attacks of shore ice. Camping beneath the shelter of bluffs provided protection from the biting wind but always carried a risk. It was the action of the ice along with the wind that had hollowed out those dunes. Without warning the ice could return and claim more lives.

    Wisely, masts were fitted to the vessel, adding the rigging of a fore-topsail schooner to the steamer. Why waste coal in the boilers? Whenever the wind could be used to power the vessel, that was the preferred method of locomotion, Hall argued. Bitter experience learned from whaling ships that ventured into those frozen lands showed that what coal a vessel needed for its engines must be carried along. More than one whaler had limped home by burning its own timbers in its boilers, cannibalizing the ship to its waterline. In the high Arctic, ice, water, and rock prevailed. Firewood and coal were nonexistent, and little else could be burned for warmth or fuel.
    To guard against heavy ice's snapping the propeller blades, a slot was cut in the stern so that the drive shaft to the screw could be unfastened and the propeller raised out of harm's way. A powerful, compact engine, made especially in Philadelphia by Neafles & Levy, drove the propeller. The engine was a masterpiece, incorporating the latest advances in steam engine design. Being small meant that more space could be allocated to carrying precious coal. For all its advanced design, the engine packed less horsepower than thatfound in a modern family car. Under the best conditions, it could drive the ship along at a top speed of less than ten knots.
    The ship's boilers carried out dual responsibilities. Besides driving the engine, the boilers heated the crew's quarters through a series of steam pipes. Sir John Franklin's vessels also had steam radiators fitted to their ships. What good it did them will never be known. At Hall's suggestion, engineers even modified one of the boilers so it could burn whale or seal oil. With limited space, coal for fuel competed with foodstuffs and scientific gear. In the event of a shortage, blubber could provide lifesaving fuel.
    Other innovations abounded. From the stern hung a life buoy sporting an electric lamp with wires reaching the ship's electric generator. A spring-loaded device allowed the life preserver to be