The Horrific Mystery Of The Arctic's Stupidest Expedition

Not the Hottest Choice

John Franklin was a seasoned explorer. Now, when we talk about someone being seasoned, remember that this may not indicate quality, as well. Seasoned just means that they've been out there and mixed it up some. There are seasoned boxers walking around with 0-64 records and absolutely no idea where they are. Franklin leans closer to that than what you might call a seasoned ... pro. Despite having been in the exploration game for years, Franklin was probably best known for eating shoes. He gained this appetite for shoes when one expedition to the Artic went south, and he was forced to throw a little bit of ketchup on some Sketchers to get his ass out of there alive. 

The press ran with it, and this, along with his history of other expeditions not quite as productive as those of his counterparts at the time, Franklin found himself in desperate need of a big exploration win.

That opportunity came in 1845 when Franklin was chosen to search for a Northwest Passage deep into the Canadian Arctic. In what sounds like a great honor, it's important to note that Franklin was about the Royal Navy's last possible choice for the gig. They went down the list of his more famous and successful contemporaries who quickly rejected the job. 

This was probably because it was the equivalent of getting one of those pestering LinkedIn messages to the effect of, "Greetings, explorer! I hope you're having the best Monday so far. My name is Diane, and I'm a recruiter with the Royal Navy, and we have a fantastic opening that you look perfect for. This position calls for you to sail boats, like shitty ass wooden boats, to the frozen Arctic. Like, the serious Arctic where after you pee and there's a tiny little droplet still left on your knob, your dick will actually freeze to your thigh and will have to be ripped off. If you're interested in this dick ripping cold trip on fucking hell boats, I'd love to chat more! Have a wonderful day. Talk soon. P.S. The pay is just below minimum wage." 

Packing for the Trip

Loading up the car for a trip can be a testy experience for just about any relationship. There are bound to be arguments surrounding just what items are important enough to necessitate the Tetris shuffle that goes on in the back of most sedans before heading out. But guess what, BABE? I will not go to the beach without my mannequin in a full set of plate armor and 16,000 loose Milk Duds, and that's just how it's going to be. Will that make planning our trip complicated? Sure. Am I single? That's really beside the point. Take the kind of headache that minor trip planning may cause you, and then multiply it by loading up a wooden death trap for a trip to what's essentially a frozen alien world via waters that have stopped being water and instead are just basically earth, which is different from water and substantially harder to sail across.

Packing up the 19th-century Kia became a big part of the challenge for Franklin and his crew. Because this was such an arduous journey, the expedition was going to need two vessels. The largest, and one that Franklin himself would be commanding, was the Erebus. His second in command, Francis Cozier, was pulling up the rear in the Terror. For the time, these were actually some well-equipped, modern vessels. They weren't strictly sail-powered as they had a rudimentary steam engine system that would help them move along when the winds weren't cooperating. On top of that, they were outfitted to withstand the elements both on the outside, with reinforcements for driving through the ice, and on the inside, where a heating system was put in place to help keep the crew from turning into blocks of ice. Something of a spoiler, though, these POS for sure still turn into blocks of ice.

Going South in the North

The Erebus and the Terror left England in May of 1845 and headed off for Greenland. At the onset, things went pretty alright. The biggest drama came when Franklin banned cussing and drunkenness. Arguably the most horrific thing done on the entire expedition. Getting drunk as fuck and drunkenly saying "fuck" is a right of passage on any boat, let alone one where these things are genuine survival necessities. 

Franklin even went on to dismiss five of his crew members, men who may actually be the luckiest men in history. Guys who would go on to have the best story at the bar for the rest of their lives, "You remember that boat that got stuck in the ice and where people started eating each other? Yeah? Well, I was on that boat, but I wouldn't stop slamming beers and calling other dudes 'cheesedicks' so now I'm here, slamming beers with you cheesedicks instead of frozen solid in a block of ice like an action figure."

Like the Titanic ... But Worse!

Now that the Royal Navy's pride and joy exploration vessels were just glorified Flav-or-Ice, Franklin and his mission were going absolutely nowhere. With the warmer weather clearly not coming around, they needed to come up with a plan. Part one, apparently, was for Franklin to just die, actually. Though there are minimal details about everything that happens with the Franklin expedition from here, notes found later indicate that Franklin died some time in this period where they were frozen and stuck, and that's literally all the note said. 

Written by crew members, they likely left out some pretty critical details. Though it's entirely possible that his ass just froze to death or died as everyone did at this time when they reached any age over 50, which is just to crumble into a pool of old rags like a fallen Jedi. Let's think about the potential that these dudes were maybe pissed off enough to ice their hapless leader. 

This is a man who had taken away their booze, told them they couldn't cuss in the Arctic, and then got them stuck in ice all in pursuit of his own redemption story. Trusting a crew member's note on this is like a detective leaving the Manson Murder search at his note left on the front door: "Had a great weekend house sitting your place! Dogs were great, the litterbox is scooped, and I restocked your fridge. I hope I left the place just like you found it."

A Really, REALLY, Cold Case

Everything from here is pretty sketchy, but one thing is for sure: they never made it. Think about that first really cold day of winter. Go back to the old days when you had to maybe even drive in to work in the morning. You go outside, and it just hits you like the lash of a whip, right down your bones. Then, you get in the car. It's the single coldest place on earth at the time. It seems to take years for the heat kick in, and you're truly, singularly, miserable for 10 to 15 minutes, maximum. Now picture that feeling for years. Every single day. That's basically the life of the men of the Franklin Expedition, except the heat in their sedans never kicked in, and they croaked behind the wheel before ever making it into work.