Most popular histories of polar exploration focus on Antarctica, particularly the doomed mission of Robert Scott and the heroics of Earnest Shackleton. I grew up learning these names, yet I was largely ignorant about the North Pole. Fortunately, I had the opportunity to read Anthony Brandt's The Man Who Ate His Boots: The Tragic History of the Search for the Northwest Passage, which provided both an exciting and comprehensive history of British exploration in the Arctic during the 19th century.
For centuries, the fabled Northwest Passage was the holy grail of both empire and commerce. Explorers estimated that a water passage through northern Canada would allow sailors to head straight for the Pacific rather than rounding Cape Horn, South America, which would save 3,000 miles off the trip. Alas, the northern waterways are too filled with ice to be navigable (although global warming may change that).
Brandt chronicles the journeys of John Franklin, Edward Parry, George Back, and John Ross and his nephew James in the Arctic during the first half of the 1800s. The title of the book, [ASIN:0307263924 The Man Who Ate His Boots]], comes from one of Franklin's earlier expeditions when, yes, the crew literally ate the leather on their boots in order to survive. However, that certainly isn't the only harrowing tale of survival. The ice floes could potentially crush or topple a ship. Perhaps surprisingly, boredom was a signifiant problem. According to Brandt, some officers like Parry made sure to entertain the crew by staging plays or playing guitars.
One of my favorite parts of the book is that Brandt discusses the behind the scenes politicking in the Navy over Arctic exploration. My favorite character was Sir John Barrow, who occupied the post of Second Secretary to the Admiralty for over 40 years. Barrow was the consummate bureaucrat who pushed his agenda through the Navy. That agenda focused on finding the Northwest Passage. Despite all the scientific evidence against it, and his own explorers suggesting the passage would be unnavigable if it existed, Barrow remained a true believer. He arranged for frequent expeditions. He also worked the public relations side by anonymously writing over 150 articles for academic and popular magazines. If you crossed this man or fell from his esteem, your chances of going to the Arctic - and reaping the glory of exploration - were over.
I would warn readers that this is a fairly long book. It took me about 2.5 days to finish. Also, I would recommend maybe making a list of the dates of the various expeditions and keeping a good map nearby - it can be tough to keep track of them all. That said, Brandt does an excellent job making the personalities of the characters vivid and memorable. Indeed, Brandt has an eye for detail and often livens the story up by describing the personality quirks of each man. Parry comes across as somewhat more confident and capable of providing for his crews. Franklin had a constant desire to prove himself, even if it meant death. Ross comes across as frequently wrong about the Arctic and public relations. The book includes other interesting characters, including Franklin's wife Jane who traveled the world and seems to have foreshadowed the women's liberation movement by a century.
The ending is also very well done. Even though we know that Franklin's last expedition failed, Brandt only slowly unveils the scope and horror of the failure. I won't spoil it for readers who aren't well versed on their Arctic history, but the last quarter of the book turns into a massive international mystery/exploration. Do yourself a favor and resist the temptation to read about Franklin on wikipedia before you reach the end.
I highly recommend this book for anybody interested in the history of exploration, particularly the great British sailors of the 18th and 19th century. I imagine this would be great reading if you have a chance to take a cruise along the Northwest Passage because, for the first time in recorded history, it is now possible to sail through during the summer.