in the land of white death by valerian albanov

What is it about these stupid journeys that captures us so? Five or ten or a dozen or fifty men, at the turn of the century, climbing to impossible heights, trudging across frozen wastes, descending to the most abysmal, animal state - threatening life and limb in some ridiculous pursuit. They took leave of the ship in early April of 1913, and for the next three months, wandered across ice-packs, up and down glaciers, across melted snow, kayaking over watery wastes, being attacked by walrus, eating rarely, getting frostbitten, going snow-blind, losing their way, fighting amongst themselves, trying to sleep in impossible places, wet and cold, tortured by scurvy and extreme vitamin deficiency. Unfortunately, the ship soon became ice-bound, and after a year being pulled hither- and- yon by the ice, Albanov and ten others decided to build sledges and cross the frozen sea to the Franz Josef Archipelago to seek help. The ship was looking for the Northeast Passage - the one that had been sought for so many years so that Russia could open up direct trade with China and Japan.

In 1912, Valerian Albanov signed on to the Santa Anna, leaving from Murmansk, bound for Vladivostok, 7,000 miles to the east.

In the land of white death by valerian albanov