Svalbard 2018

The tragedy in Kobbebukta

View from Kvadehuken; Kongsfjorden in the foreground. Cape Mitra is located at the pointed tip on the left, Krossfjorden furthest away on the right, and Cape Guissez is located at the black headland on the far right edge of the image.

From the German geophysical research station at Kvadehuken, assistant Torgeir Møkleby (36) and steward Harald Simonsen (27) set off across Kongsfjorden towards Krossfjorden in an open 14-foot rowing boat. Their purpose was to look for fisherman Georg Nilsen.

On his way north towards Krossfjorden, where Nilsen was going to fish, he had visited the research station. There he explained his plans to hunt in the area around Tinayrebukta in Krossfjorden until the light disappeared around Christmas, then go to Kings Bay (Ny-Ålesund) and work in the mines until spring, and then go hunting again. During the visit, they agreed that he would come to the station and celebrate Christmas with them.

When Nilsen did not show up, and time passed without them seeing or hearing anything from him, the men at the station feared that something had happened to him. They decided to look for him, and on 21 February 1922, Møkleby and Simonsen took to the oars to row across to Krossfjorden. They were not entirely sure where Nilsen might be, so they initially set course for Ebeltoft on the west side of Krossfjorden. On board the boat, they had provisions for six weeks.

Kapp Mitra, on the west side of the entrance to Krossfjorden.

On their way into Krossfjorden, they got stuck in slush.

"At 8 o'clock in the evening, we finally reached Kapp Guissez, but by then the slush was so thick that the boat came to a complete standstill, even though we rowed with all the strength and spirit we could muster."

Unable to row or sail, they were carried northwards along the coast by the wind and currents, with no possibility of reaching land. Although they were occasionally able to climb onto larger ice floes, the ice near the coast was not strong enough to support them, even though they were wearing skis on their feet. They were trapped in the ice floes, drifting mercilessly at the mercy of the weather and wind.

On Wednesday 22 February, late in the evening, they managed to pull the boat onto a slightly larger ice floe. Now they could get out of the boat and move around.

"Møkleby is running around as if he wants to break the world record. He says he's cold."

"During the night, we had drifted in a north-westerly direction. At 5 o'clock this morning, we were drifting rapidly towards a reef just northwest of Cape Mitra. We turned quickly to get the boat over to the other side of the ice floe. Just as we had turned the boat, the ice floe hit the reef and broke into several smaller pieces. We made it past the reef and are drifting north."

Mitraskjæret, where the ice floe they were on collided with.

At this point, they were in good spirits, as their diaries clearly show:

"We saw the sun again for the first time this year. It shone for about an hour, sending its golden rays over our little vessel, which now resembles the Maud through the polar ice."

They still had plenty of provisions.

"First we made ourselves a pan of chocolate with as many rusks as we could eat, then we took out our lovely sleeping bag, which has room for three people."

The next day, Simonsen writes:

"We have settled down here and eaten a tin of pork and peas. It's strange how good food tastes on an outdoor trip like this."

But as the days passed, they were put to the test. They slept lying on top of two pairs of spare oars with the sail over them to protect them from the snow and wind. They often crawled into their sleeping bags wet to the skin.

"We slept poorly because we had to lie stretched out, balancing on our oars. The wind blew all night and we froze so much that we never thought we would get up again."

At one point, they were so far out to sea that they reached open water.

"We sailed and rowed all day without getting anything else to eat but half a bar of chocolate, which we devoured in the morning."

For the most part, they were trapped in the ice floes, but they constantly tried to get closer to land. The threat of the boat being crushed between the ice floes was ever-present.

"Last night we had very high seas, so the ice floes are towering against each other. The boat has survived so far, but to be on the safe side we hauled it up onto a floe, which we spent the morning trying to reach. We hauled the boat up onto an ice floe, then tied a line to the hook and threw it in front of the boat to the next floe, then pulled ourselves along and up onto it. It was terrible work. We covered about 200 metres in half a day."

"We continue northwards, about a quarter of a nautical mile from land (1 nautical mile = 7421 metres, so a quarter of a nautical mile = 1852 metres, i.e. 1 nautical mile). Now, at 3 o'clock this afternoon, we are once again across the fourth ice floe. We have now moored the boat next to an ice floe that is two boat lengths long and one boat length wide. Here we run and walk around all day to keep ourselves fit, while we watch the wild landscape slowly but surely drifting past. We are also very happy that the weather is so nice. It keeps our spirits up."

Here, Gyda lies about a quarter of a mile from land outside Tredjebreen. Far to the north, you can see the Hoel peninsula with Kvalpynten, which must be passed before entering Magdalenefjorden.

However, the two realise the seriousness of the situation and now understand that this could go completely wrong.

"None of us at Quade Hook (the research station at Kvadehuken) could have imagined, when we set off on Tuesday morning, that it would be such a difficult journey to Ebeltoft, our destination. Two men have risked their lives to come to the aid of a third. Now it looks like we are the ones who need a rescue expedition."

"So we surrender ourselves to our fate and take it as we must take it in such a case, with calm and composure. In truth, this was like an involuntary prison stay on an ice floe in the Arctic Ocean in the middle of winter."

They experienced an inhuman struggle. Wind and currents carried them far out to sea, but they managed to set a jib sail and attempted to sail the boat back towards land.

"The wind was blowing strongly and the sea was rough. We kept going all day Friday until Saturday afternoon at 6 o'clock. By then, we had been sitting in the boat for 36 hours and were soaked through with seawater. On Saturday evening, we found a suitable ice floe and pulled the boat up for the night. Then we made some coffee. We couldn't manage any more than that, because we were so tired and stiff from the cold and rowing".

Now they find themselves caught up in the current again, which is carrying them southwards, at one point so far south that they are in the middle of Kings Bay (Kongsfjorden) but far out at sea. The ice has blocked access to Kongsfjorden. The wind picked up again, this time from the south-west, and over the next 24 hours they blew northwards until they were once again level with Magadalenefjorden.

Magdalenefjorden with Miethebreen glacier at the innermost part of the north side.

"Late on Wednesday evening, we came ashore north of Magdalene Bay. We were so close to land that we had to stay out of the wind. We realised that we would not be able to land without going to the dogs. We approached a sharp headland where the sea was breaking violently. It looked as if half the mountain was boiling. Taking up the oars and rowing was out of the question because it was impossible in the storm. If we hadn't held back a little more at the last moment, a single breaking wave could have done us in. We have never been so close to the edge between life and death before. It sends a chill down my spine. It was like a death sail."

The skerries "Skorpa" are probably what they describe as the "sharp headland" southwest of Danskøya.

"Finally, we rounded the headland and kept closer to the wind into a bay, the first one north of Magdalene Bay. As we went further into the fjord, we saw a large islet in the middle of the bay. We got so close that we were able to secure our grappling hook to the shore, and we managed to go ashore on it. There we remained, sheltered from the storm and the sea, until daybreak. We were so exhausted that we could not lift an oar to row against the wind."

The islet they describe is "Postholmen", located in the middle of the opening of Kobbebukta. It got its name because, as far back as the 1600s, whaling ships used it to leave mail.

"Frozen and soaked through as we were, we wanted nothing more than to get into our beloved sleeping bags, one at a time. Møkleby was to go first while I kept watch. Unfortunately, seawater had got into our alarm clock, and we had completely lost track of time. During the night, a strong offshore wind blew and the ice cracked. To our great relief, a crack had opened up."

"So we set off again. After a long time, we entered the bay and found an excellent place to land. We wasted no time in starting to unload, which was difficult because of the rather steep mountain slope. Although our strength was limited, we managed to get everything ashore safely. It was a strange feeling to feel solid ground under our feet."

They spent the first night in a hole in the snow, then set about building a snow cave as soon as it got light the next day.

On Saturday, 11 March, 20 days (!) after they boarded and set off on what was supposed to be a day's rowing trip, they managed to reach a place where they could safely go ashore.

"We can't pull the boat ashore. It's securely moored next to us. It looks like it's in good shape. If only we could keep it, so we could get out of here when the weather permits. It is still our intention to first go to Cross Bay (Krossfjorden) to look for Georg Nilsen, which is the purpose of this expedition."

So even though they are completely exhausted at this point, and have nearly lost their lives, they display a selfless determination that is difficult to imagine is possible.

"Gyda" on her way into Kobbebukta. The entrance to the bay has a shallow threshold with a depth of a couple of metres, so the skipper stands in the bow and keeps an eye on the bottom. Clear water and forward-looking sonar, combined with the fact that "Gyda" has a swing keel and a minimum draught of only one metre, enable us to safely cross the threshold and enter the bay itself, where the water is deep enough. We have not been able to find any precise description of where their snow cave was located, but they write in their diaries that it was on a steep mountain slope on the north side of the bay. We assume it must be below the marked pointed hill on the left in the picture.

"We've almost made it through this week (our first week on land), and every day is pretty much the same. We spend our time cooking, two to three times a day, and then we stay in our sleeping bags for the rest of the day. The ice has been thick in the bay and across the entire sea, so we have to stay put until the ice conditions change and we can head south."

"We can't go on any trips outside because we don't have any footwear. Our shoes and boots are completely soaked and frozen stiff. Møkleby is the worst off. He has wrapped some pieces of clothing around his legs; half-dry trousers on one leg and a shirt on the other. He has been wearing these since we were sailing between the ice."

But the trials were far from over;

"We were very disappointed when we came out and saw that the boat was gone. Due to the large waves, it had broken both mooring ropes and drifted out to sea."

"We are two poor, frozen people, far out in the snowy wilderness in the middle of winter. We were just going on a quick trip to help someone we thought was lost. Now we are in a situation where we ourselves are in dire need of help."

The two are now stranded in Kobbebukta, but their dramatic fate has only just begun. It would take too long to go into detail, but in short;

De oppholdt seg i snøhulen resten av vinteren. Uten ordentlig fottøy eller ski kom de seg heller ikke noe særlig rundt i terrenget, og var aldri klar over at de var strandet på Danskøya. De var ikke kjent i området og trodde hele tiden at de var nordvest på Spitsbergen. De kjente heller ikke til at det i Virgohamna, mindre enn 3 km unna der de oppholdt seg lå en hytte som var intakt etter Engelskmannen Arnold Pikes overvintring i 1888-89.

A search and rescue expedition with the ship "Foca" passed Kobbebukta on both 8 and 10 April, where it lay along the ice edge a good distance outside the bay. Simensen reports that during those days they were "weatherbound" inside the snow cave due to very severe cold and frost. It was not until the 10th, late in the day, that Simonsen crawled out of the cave.

"Then the first big surprise happened, namely on the afternoon of the 10th, when I went out to check the weather and saw a fishing boat at the headland on the south side of the bay. It seemed to be heading southwards towards us. Needless to say, I was shocked. I called out to Simonsen, and we both ran as fast as we could towards the headland on the south side, as we were quite far inside the bay.

Simonsen had his rifle and revolver with him and fired seven shots. I shouted as loud as I could, but we were not seen. The cutter headed south into the ice.

There we stood, poor, scattered, frozen and despondent on the point. We had been so close to rescue, yet so far away! We had neither breath nor purpose left. So we slunk back, consoled ourselves with a cup of coffee, and crawled back into our sleeping bags".

The winter of 1922 was one of the coldest in a long time, and spring arrived more than three weeks later than normal. This meant that they were unable to obtain eider ducks or eggs, which they would normally have been able to hope for if spring had arrived as usual. They had a 25-shot shotgun, a rifle and a revolver, and shot a total of 36 auks during the winter, but they were unable to get out onto the ice floes to shoot seals. Strangely enough, they did not receive any visits from polar bears or foxes that they could have shot. Hunger made them weak and sluggish, and eventually they could barely move when they were outside the cave.

On 24 April, Møkleby writes:

"We, Simonsen, my handsome, kind friend and I, have fought hard, much harder than many people have to fight, and it looks like we will soon have to admit defeat. Our strength is almost exhausted, we can barely keep warm in our sleeping bags. However, I have come to terms with having to say goodbye to this life. I cannot describe how it feels, it can only be felt by oneself. I am just a shadow of my former self. It seems that a snowdrift in the wilderness will be my grave."

"The time has come for me to lay down my staff and depart from this world. I see no way out now. The late spring finished us off. We had expected to find eggs by the end of May, but it is still practically the middle of winter. We have suffered, starved, frozen and struggled, and yet we still had a small hope of eating eggs. Now our strength is broken. Together we die, as we fought together, my excellent comrade Harald Simonsen and I..."

"No rescue ships can be expected around here for another fortnight. By then it will be too late for us. We will already be in heaven. However, we are resigned and glad to be released, for now we deserve rest. If our remains are found, it is my last wish to be allowed a brief moment in the church before I am lowered into the consecrated ground. This is now my hope. But no white coffin or white stone. I have seen only white for so long now that I long for something else. And plant flowers on the grave. Blue and red. Pansies, daisies and forget-me-nots."

We brought out our very last drops of Gydas's fine Shackleton whisky and raised a reverent toast to the memory of Harald Simonsen and Torgeir Møkleby.

It felt strange to lie down with Gyda where their snow cave probably lay, and almost sense their presence. We feel a great deal of sympathy for the two of them, because they were truly extremely unlucky. The weather on the day of departure was the best possible, but they were caught in ice slush that was impossible to see from a distance, they never found the cabin that was not far from the snow cave, they missed the rescue ship "Foca" by the smallest possible margin, spring and the opportunities it could have brought were extraordinarily late, and as if all this were not enough, it later turned out that trapper Georg Nilsen had been killed by a polar bear while on his way from his trapper's hut to Kings Bay and the research station to celebrate Christmas. He was already dead by the time the two set out to look for him.

A visit the Svalbard Museum to see the "Krag Jørgensen" rifle that belonged to trapper Georg Nilsen.

A jammed cartridge was found in the rifle, which made it impossible to fire a shot. The tracks around the site indicate that Nilsen had been attacked by a polar bear, but because of the jammed cartridge, he was unable to fire and was therefore killed by the bear. This happened while he was on his way to Kings Bay, hoping to celebrate Christmas at the research station at Kvadehuken.

If you would like to read more about this drama, you can find their entire story in a booklet, "Svalbardminer" no. 7 from 2007, which contains their diaries in their entirety, along with reports from those who went on the search and Captain Hermansen on the ship "FARM", which found the wreckage on 13 June 1923, on the anniversary of the last entry in the diaries.

There is also a documentary novel, "Hvis dere finner oss" (If you find us) by Leif B. Lillegård, which deals with the drama.

The journey continues north to Norway's northernmost point, "Aller lengst nord" (Farthest north).