Beechey Island

Welcome to the stark, unforgiving shores of Beechey Island. As you stand on this desolate, frozen gravel beach, enveloped by the biting Arctic fog and the chilling wind, you are stepping onto one of the most intriguing and…

As you survey this barren stretch of land, try to imagine the sheer isolation of spending a winter here. By late eighteen forty-five, the pack ice had violently closed in around the Erebus and the Terror, forcing the men to…

Step respectfully toward the first of the three wooden markers protruding from the frozen gravel. This is the grave of John Torrington, a twenty-year-old stoker born in Manchester. …

This second marker belongs to John Hartnell, who died a mere three days after Torrington, on January fourth, eighteen forty-six. When researchers exhumed Hartnell's naturally mummified remains in the nineteen eighties, they made…

Look down at the third and final grave, belonging to William Braine. Braine perished months later, in April of eighteen forty-six. …

Walk away from the graves toward the higher, rocky ground where standard stone markers, known as cairns, were traditionally built. The most perplexing and disastrous failure of the Franklin Expedition occurred right here. …

As we stand on the freezing shoreline of Beechey Island, staring out at the impenetrable ice of the Lancaster Sound, the full weight of the Franklin tragedy becomes clear. After fleeing this cursed winter camp in the spring of…