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Polar Flight at Madison, Which Came Equally Close [[image]] [[image caption]] Arthur Wellman, Madison business man, who was in charge of the Wellman arctic expedition's camp on Danes island. Photographs reproduced on this page are from his collection. [[/image caption]] [[image]] [[image caption]] At the top of the page is Camp Wellman, Danes island, with the framework of the hangar in place. The center picture shows the America being run out of its hangar at the start of the unsuccessful attempt to reach the pole. The "equilibrator," which so nearly brought disaster, is shown draped under the car. At the bottom is the return, the fabric of the huge gas bag drooping forlornly after much of the gas had been permitted to escape to compensate for the loss of the weight of the "equilibrator" [[image caption]] 50 tons of material and provisions for our camp, which I was to organize while the ship was sent back for my brother, who brought six more laborers and mechanics with him, swelling our numbers to 35 men. "In the main it was a happy camp, though many of the men left families in Norway. There were days of homesickness of course. I remember one Sunday when I invited the men over to out house and played on the phonograph for them church music and classical productions, as well as some ragtime, ending the program with 'Home, Sweet Home.' There were no dry eyes in the house when the program ended. That phonograph with 100 records did a lot to make life bearable in camp. "As evidence of the esteem which Walter Wellman felt for Andree, a monument to his memory was erected on Danes Island and dedicated by a group of Norwegians who came to visit us that summer. Andree's ill fated expedition was the subject of many evening discussions in our camp. "I had charge of the erection of our hangar. In a previous attempt a hangar had been destroyed by wind, but ours stood all tests. "As we filled the silken envelope of the balloon with hydrogen gas it became necessary to weight the airship down in the hangar with sacks of sand, so that when we finally ran it out there were 100 sacks of this heavy ballast hanging to its sides. "In order to stabilize the airship in fight my brother provided a long hollow tube of leather of about the diameter of stove piping, each section being eight feet long. These joints were fastened end to end, making a long snakelike tube in which were stored 1,260 pounds of cooked food in cans to serve the double purpose of adding weight and of providing food for the crew of four persons in case of a forced landing in the ice wilderness. This equilibrator in case the buoyancy of the shit was reduced dangerously low, was expected to settle on the ice, thus lessening the total weight in the air and so making it possible to keep the dirigible afloat above the ice until repairs could be made. This 1,260 pounds also would act as ballast. Our engineers had determined the exact lifting power of our 250,000 cubic feet of hydrogen gas. "ON AUG. 20, 1909, all was ready. It was the day to which we had all looked forward. My brother was happy. I confess I had my misgivings, not because I feared that the preparation lacked anything, but-well-Walter was my brother and it was to be, to my mind, a perilous undertaking at best. Every time I looked toward the Andree house during those last days of preparation I thought of that ill fated expedition, although there was really no comparison in the precautions taken for safety. To rise above the earth and trust to luck and to favoring winds is quite different from ascending with engines and steering apparatus. "Then came the order to push the 184-foot giant out of the hangar. Willing hands soon accomplished the task. The sandbags were cut away and the dirigible arose slowly and majestically with everything trim and ready. She behaved beautifully as she encircled the camp and then headed straight north and was lost to sight. "All night, it was night, although broad daylight-I stood on the little mountain, gazing north with mixed hopes and fears. To see him return would mean safety for my brother but failure for the expedition and the blasting for his hope to reach the pole. "In the morning I was the first to catch sight of the returning dirigible. Its shape had greatly altered, whether from intentional liberation of gas or buffeting of winds, I could not tell. But the America, instead of the firm cigar shape which it had when it left the hangar, was limp at the ends, and folds of silk hung flapping in the wind as the craft blundered along toward camp. "Something had happened! I dreaded to see the disappointment of my brother, but, as he said, he came to 'explore' and not to 'commit suicide.' After he was safely landed he told us that, after traveling 150 miles, or within about 250 miles of the pole, the equilibrator parted and all but four feet of it dropped upon the ice below. Relieved of this ballast, the America rose rapidly to a height of over two miles, making it necessary to open the valves to liberate large quantities of gas. This catastrophe made a continuance of the journey impossible, so the airship was turned about and driven a rapidly as possible for Danes island. There, everything was dismantled, the America deflated and loaded on to the waiting Arctic in which we returned to Tromsoe. There we parted from the men who had served us so splendidly and returned to America. "Yes," continued Mr. Wellman, "I certainly would like to see Camp Wellman again and more so, of course, now that the Andree expedition has come into the limelight. It was a wonderful summer." THE year following this attempt to reach the pole Walter Wellman, backed by the New York Times, attempted to cross the Atlantic with the same dirigible. He failed, not through lack of courage or what was considered in those days adequate preparation, but because motors were not yet dependable. Re-outfitted, he took off from Atlantic City the morning of Oct. 15, 1910. There was a dense fog and after the craft had been in the air three minutes it was enveloped in mist. It was the first aircraft in history to send wireless messages from the air, but after the fifth message no more was heard from the America. When the dirigible crew was brought back into New York harbor on Oct. 20, [[footnote]] Continued on Page Eleven The Milwaukee Journal [[/footnote]]
