Empire of Ice and Stone: The Disastrous and Heroic Voyage of the Karluk
Buddy Levy
St. Martin’s Press
Copyright 2022 by the author

It’s the explorers going for “firsts” that get all the press. First to the South Pole, first to summit Everest, etc. The ones doing the actual science and cartography, filling in the blank spaces on the map, are the ones who get forgotten – even if their travels and travails are far more interesting and exciting.

In 1913, Vilhjalmur Stefansson decided to lead an expedition to the “High Arctic”, setting out from Alaska and moving up into the Canadian north. The “Canadian Arctic Expedition” would map the territory and do assorted scientific explorations, looking for sea life and recording the weather – and staking claim to any new lands. Stefansson, meanwhile, knew where the real profit was; he arranged for exclusive publication rights to pretty much everything produced by the expedition. There would be two ships to take all the scientists; Stefansson would captain the Alaska; Robert Bartlett would head the Karluk.

This isn’t Levy’s first work on Arctic exploration, nor is it the first book on the Canadian Arctic Expedition. But having read none of them, I can freely judge Empire on its own merits.

Levy has taken the voluminous documentation available and woven it into an incredible tale of danger and heroism. He puts you right there, as if you were part of the expedition yourself. There’s little digression into the science of the Arctic environment; that’s not important compared to the struggle for survival. He does a great job at switching between viewpoints, as the expedition divides into several groups.

There’s even a villain; Stefansson was so obviously concerned with personal fame that his “preparations” for the expedition bordered on the criminal. And when the Karluk vanished, he wasn’t concerned with its fate. It’s Bartlett who is the hero, keeping his half of the expedition together, working tirelessly and effectively for the members’ survival, and making the long trek to find rescue.

It’s frankly amazing how much primary documentation there is from the Expedition. I really would like some author of one of these Tales of Exploration to spend a little time on how people managed to keep decent journals in such extreme conditions. There’s obvious attention paid to getting food and making shelter, but we’d know none of it if people hadn’t written it down. A paragraph or two on writing in tiny books in cramped quarters with minimal light and frozen fingers, please?

It should be noted that Levy – quite properly – acknowledges the contributions of the Inuit members of the expedition. Brought along to help with hunting, fishing, and general survival, he gives them full credit for their contributions. You might wonder at the fact that one couple brought their children along with them – but come on, they weren’t going out into anything they weren’t used to.

One thing that’s clear in the tale is that the world was rapidly “running out” of unknown lands. Even the northernmost parts of Alaska and East Siberia were inhabited, and not just by Inuits and other natives. Whalers, seal hunters, and traders had little settlements along the Arctic coast. Islands might not have been accurately mapped, but their locations were known. Radio and telegraph stations connected some of the towns on the Bering Sea with the rest of the world.

These days, there are no truly unexplored lands left. Satellite imagery lets you zoom in to any part of the planet. You can even “walk” down most streets without leaving your computer. It’s basically impossible to make a name for oneself by boldly going where no one has gone before. Guess we’ll all have to do it vicariously through works like those of Buddy Levy.