Fury and Hecla: Parry’s Formidable Arctic Exploration Sisters

On March 31st, 1827, Captain William Edward Parry took leave of his friends, relations, and his young wife Isabella. He boarded his beloved exploration vessel, HMS Hecla. After five expeditions searching for a Northwest Passage in the Canadian Arctic – four of which he was in overall command of – he was setting out for a different destination: The North Pole. Onboard Hecla were the latest contingent of a long line of British officers who would write their names on geographic features across both Arctic and Antarctic regions.1 His crew well-understood the hazards of polar exploration. On Parry’s last expedition Hecla’s sistership and exploration consort, HMS Fury, had been destroyed. Parry – an evangelical Christian – must have wondered, as he moved north along the English coast, if Providence and his continuing good fortune would keep them all safe on this new foray towards the top of the World.

His Majesty’s Discovery ships, Fury and Hecla by Arthur Parsey (Artist & Engraver) Charles Joseph Hullmandel (Printer) in 1823. Both show “Parry scheme” modifications for Arctic service, with broadside armament and mortars removed, reinforced channels, and bow iceguards. credit: National Maritime Museum PAH9224.

Forty-five years elapsed from the Constantine Phipps North Pole Expedition until William Edward Parry’s 1819 Northwest Passage search again brought polar-modified bomb vessels back to the Arctic. The 1741 modifications to HMS Furnace had set a basic pattern for reinforcing bomb vessels to participate in polar exploration missions. The Phipps’ North Pole attempt had introduced yet more innovations.2 However, the “Parry scheme” – the identical strengthening of two sisterships – HM Ships Hecla and Fury – is the most relevant precedent for the modifications of the final, and ill-fated bombs, HM Ships Terror and then Erebus.

Both Hecla and Fury were laid down in 1813, and completed at the very twilight of the Napoleonic Wars. The Hecla class was a slight enlargement of the Vesuvius class bomb vessels.3 They were 105′ / 32m long on the gundeck, 28.5′ /8.7m in maximum beam, and displaced about 375 tons.4 Like the previous exploration bombs Furnace, Racehorse, and Carcass, these two sisterships had participated in a military campaign in their intended role: Firing bombs or carcasses (incendiary shells) from their main armament of a 10” and 13″ mortars. Both had been members of Admiral Edward Pellew’s fleet during the Bombardment of Algiers, 27 August 1816. They, along with the other bomb vessels Beelzebub and Infernal, fired hundreds of shells into the defences, harbour, and city, and were present the next day when the Dey of Algiers capitulated.

A detail of a panoramic illustration of the Bombardment of Algiers, showing Hecla, Fury and Belzebub firing bombs on a high trajectory. A section of the fortified harbour wall and a great gun are in the foreground. Panoramic views of various places : collection of pamphlets describing panoramas on exhibition in London, 1818 -1832 [detail of panoramic illustration] Credit: State Library of New South Wales DSM/791/PA1

Hecla’s first exposure to Arctic service involved conversion for a Northwest Passage expedition. This mission followed up on John Ross’s recent voyage, which had used two converted whaling ships, Isabella and Alexander, to revive the whole program of Admiralty polar exploration.5 Lieutenant William Edward Parry (who had commanded Alexander) would now make his own effort to solve the great cartographic mystery at the top of North America: was there a navigable passage from Baffin Bay through to the Western Arctic?6 Parry was also directed to try to resolve the cartographic confusion that John Ross’s mission had raised.7 His methodical approach to preparing for polar exploration involved thoughtful consideration of the unique environment his crews would operate in, an almost fanatical attention to technical details of the ships, equipment, and supplies, and careful planning for unanticipated situations.

Capt. William Edward Parry, Commander of the Polar Expeditions (on the print this is updated from 1819-1827). Credit: Credit: Library and Archives Canada, Acc. No. 1939-159-1.

Hecla was accompanied by HMS Griper (Matthew Liddon commanding). Griper was a gunbrig: a much smaller type that was about 85’/26m long on the gundeck and displaced only 180 tons. The pairing of a lead ship with a smaller consort had been a feature of prior expeditions. The reinforcement of the ships combined the best features of previous refits. Parry’s expedition made remarkable progress westwards into the uncharted Arctic Archipelago at the top of the North American landmass. The crews overwintered, in their carefully prepared and housed-over ships, in the midst of their discovery mission.8 This frozen pause, far north of the Arctic Circle, was a first for the Admiralty exploration program.

This image of Hecla on her first mission, housed over for overwintering at Melville Island with Griper nearby, is take from The frozen zone and its explorers; a comprehensive record of voyages, travels, discoveries, adventures and whale-fishing in the Arctic regions for one thousand years, an 1874 publication. Internet Archive Book Images, No restrictions, via Wikimedia Commons

Parry penetrated the Arctic as far west as Cape Providence at the southwestern tip of Melville Island (beyond 113° degrees longitude west of Greenwich). With the (brief) navigation season rapidly closing, he chose to winter at a suitable bay back along the southern coast. As the ice was setting in, they had to cut their way in to “Winter Harbour” using ice saws. Parry kept his ships safe and his crews relatively healthy during this 10-month period. He even continued the exploration mission overland by leading treks to survey the northern coast of Melville, where he discovered Hecla and Griper Bay. Early the next exploration season, he was turned back from further progress westwards by pack ice. The two ships arrived home to wild enthusiasm in October 1820.

Captain Joseph-Elzéar Bernier and the crew of the CGS Arctic visit Parry’s rock at Winter Harbour, on 1 July 1909. They erected a commemorative plaque, alongside carvings made by Parry’s crew in 1819-1820, which would become important to Canadian sovereignty claims over the Arctic. This is now a National Historic Site of Canada. Credit: Library and Archives Canada C-001198

In preparation for Parry’s next mission to the Arctic, HMS Fury was reinforced to the same standard as Hecla, to become Parry’s lead ship in a new effort to locate a passage west. Hecla was commanded by George Francis Lyon. This dual refit, starting in late 1820 at Deptford Dockyard, represents the beginning of the classical age of the Admiralty’s program of strengthening ships for polar service: Here two sisterships were identically outfitted, to operate in tandem. In the event of the loss of one ship, both crews could be fully accommodated on the remaining ship.9 Parry described this important refit in detail in the published journal of his second expedition.10 In the wake of his first expedition, and frustrating experiences sailing in company with the slower Griper, he now rejected the convention that a lighter vessel, acting as a consort, could explore inshore waters more effectively than two evenly-matched ships. He emphasized that all inshore surveying could be completed by detached boat crews (who have the light vessels with minimal draft to best exploit inshore charting opportunities). He argued that ships of the same design could better survey a larger area (with independent charting of whole stretches of coastline a possibility). In order to ensure that sailing performance was as even as possible, he adopted what he called an “equalized rig” between ships. This went beyond merely ensuring that the three-masted barque rig of both ships was identical, because the fore and main masts were fitted with the exact same lengths of spar for a given sail type between both masts. This meant that four masts between two ships had the exact same spar dimensions for courses, topsails, and topgallant and studding sails – something that would greatly simplify repairs in case of damage to the top hamper.

The draught plans of the original Hecla class design of 1813 (upper ZAZ5687), and an internal arrangement plan of the modifications to Fury for the 1821 NW passage mission (lower ZAZ5696) © Crown copyright. National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, London

The original Admiralty plans, now preserved at the National Maritime Museum at Greenwich, show a more thorough conversion for Arctic service than any prior British vessel had undergone. In contrast to Racehorse and Carcass, Parry’s ships received a full weatherdeck, which united the quarterdeck, foc’sl, and the intervening space amidships. This decking enclosed a much larger internal space which could protect crews from foul weather and, more importantly, Arctic conditions. Fury and Hecla were the first bombs to be so heavily modified that no internal traces remained of their original mortar beds. They also were the first to have all gun-ports fully omitted (planked over). The fragile channels (where the shrouds connect down to the hull outboard of the rails) were filled in by ice chocks, as they had been on HMS Furnace in 1741. Massive timbers – Heavy bolsters and hooks – strengthened the bows. Parry’s ships had doubled planking on the exterior (which was thicker than what had been fitted to Hecla and Griper for the earlier mission). This ran all the way up to deck-level. The outer layer noticeably thickened at the waterline. Heavy iron strengthening bolted through the knees and keelson, spirketting (reinforced timbers) ran lengthwise, bolted into the frames at different levels. A full double layer of “footwailing” sheathed the area inside the frames of the lower hull (interior paneling in the hold which was laid diagonal for further strength). A sectional plan helps us further interpret the details of these massively strengthened vessels:

HMS Fury sectional plan, 1821 (ZAZ5700) © Crown copyright. National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, London

One of the most notable updates is the first use of diagonal deck planking on a discovery mission. This update can be seen in the uppermost layer of 3” thick decking, represented in the above plan as wider than the underlying fore-and-aft planking. The two layers made for a much stronger protective sheathing: 6” of wood, with a layer of waterproofing tar paper sandwiched in between. This strengthened decking was conventionally fastened to the underlying deck beams. The concept of diagonal decking appears to have been a recent novelty, and can be credited to a naval architect who was coming up with a whole system of new design elements to strengthen British warships: Sir Robert Seppings. Seppings had first installed diagonal decking to HMS Albion’s two gundecks in 1815. He had then arranged a comparative trial, where he had fitted it only to the port side decking of HMS Northumberland. This ship and its experimental deck were put to use from August to October 1815 to transport the deposed French Emperor, Napoleon Buonaparte, to his final exile on the island St. Helena.11 On Parry’s exploration ships, the diagonal sections flanked a central area of the deck, which had massively thickened decking – a full 6″ thick – running lengthwise. This reinforced and buttressed decking – visible today at the wreck sites of Erebus and Terror, created a structure of incredible solidity.12

A Sylvester warming oven (furnace) of an ingenious design circulated warm air to the newly-enclosed interior spaces by flues (it can be seen shaded blue in the second plan above). Relevant to air circulation and lighting below decks, Parry also noted in passing that his ships were fitted with “illuminators,” which, in this context, would appear to be a very early instance of the installation of Preston’s Patent illuminator (which also could be called a portable deck glass and ventilator).13

The reinforced diagonal decking and thicker central planks of a polar-modified bomb vessel looking from the main hatch forwards along the starboard side. Illuminators, which my research has established may have been fitted to Parry’s ships on his second polar expedition, and deck prisms also appear. (author’s photo of an incomplete model)

Parry’s second expedition in command (1821-1823) saw the ships overwinter first at Winter Island and then further north at Igloolik. This expedition had set yet another important polar precedent when the merchant vessel Nautilus was hired to transport some of the burden of coal and provisions across the Atlantic to Resolution Island (at the entrance to the Hudson Strait). Crew then discharged its cargo into the exploration vessels, to top up their supplies.14 No ice-free passage towards the west was located, but, in Foxe Basin, Parry did transit the Frozen Straits at the top of Southampton Island into Hudson’s Bay, finally proving the accuracy of Christopher Middleton’s 1742 surveying in HMS Furnace. Near Igloolik, he also discovered a frozen waterway stretching westwards out of the Basin, which he named Fury and Hecla Strait. Both his official publication and Lyon’s private journal (private yet officially approved to be published) include invaluable observations about local Inuit communities’ culture, social practices and daily life.15 All these decades later, Inuit communities on Igloolik Island and around the Melville Peninsula continue to preserve a rich oral tradition around the visit of Parry’s crews. In early 1823, Parry’s crews were beginning to show signs of the onset of that dreaded mariner’s disease: Scurvy. Hecla and Fury departed the Arctic in good condition for a safe return home. Despite Lyon’s remarkable ethnographic observations of Inuit community life, the actual cartographic results of the expedition could not compare to the incredible progress westwards of Parry’s first foray. Still, the public at home in Great Britain continued to be inspired by his exploration.

Parry’s Arctic expeditions led to widespread popular enthusiasm in Europe for depictions of Arctic adventures. A Staffordshire dish ca. 1835, shows an Arctic scene of Parry’s ships in the background, and Inuit community members with a sledge and dogs. This appears to be a inspired by a scene of Hecla and Griper at Winter Harbour, updated with events from later expeditions. Credit: Daderot, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons.

Parry immediately threw himself into the planning of yet another expedition. The discovery duo of Hecla and Fury would now look for a passage 500 km to the Northwest of Igloolik, down Prince Regent Inlet (a waterway which he had entered but not fully charted during his westward passage in 1819). Parry shifted back to Hecla. Henry Parkyns Hoppner (an experienced Arctic officer with service on all recent Parry-associated missions) took command of Fury.16 Departing England in May, 1824, the expedition again made use of a transport, the William Harris, which was unloaded at the Whalefish Islands, Greenland (now known as Kitsissut and Imerissoq). The exploration ships were delayed in crossing Baffin Bay, and had to winter at Port Bowen, on the eastern side of the Inlet. Officers and crew disliked the dreary winter site, and had misgivings about the mission to explore the Inlet.17 When finally released from the ice in late July 1825, the ships began navigating the western coast of North Somerset Land (Somerset Island’s insularity would not be proved until 1852), looking for some route to the west. It was along the dramatic cliffs of this coastline that disaster finally caught up with Parry’s crews.

The appearance of HMS Fury on the day of her abandonment (taken from Parry’s Journal of his Third Expedition): Edward Francis Finden (engraver); Hoppner, Capt (artist); Murray, John (publisher), Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

On the first of August, Fury and Hecla were both damaged by being nipped by ice as it crowded close in to the shores of Somerset Island. Unbeknownst to Parry, Fury was more severely wounded, and began taking on water at a prodigious rate. By the time Hoppner was able to report in, a third of the entire crew were required to work all four pumps just to keep the vessel afloat.18 A careful examination showed that, despite the phenomenal strengthening of the hull as noted above, the basic skeleton of the ship had been seriously damaged: Fury’s forefoot and sternpost were both mauled, and areas of the keel were effectively shattered.19 Parry’s published journal of the expedition relates the episodes of a worsening situation over the next week: Exhausting efforts to find a safe location to shelter the damaged vessel from further ice damage and unload her, to try and repair the hull, eventually failed when ice again crowded inshore and bodily heaved the ship up into the shallows of the beach. This further damaged the bilge areas on August 25th. Parry, returning onboard his former command, recognized the ship was doomed. He allowed Hoppner and his senior staff to carefully assess the ship. The verdict from Fury’s officers was clear: it was time to abandon their vessel and press on.20 A storage depot was created at Fury Beach, with anchors, anchor chains, spars, ships boats, and a vast supply of coal and provisions.21 Given the state of crowding and the reduction in provisions on Hecla, Parry turned aside from further exploration of the Inlet and hastened back to England. He concluded his official account of the protracted destruction of the Fury by stating “…it will be plain that an occurrence of this nature was at all times rather to be expected than otherwise, and that the only real cause for wonder has been our long exemption from such a catastrophe.”22

Remarkably, given the hazards of exploration and the amount of time he had been away from his home on these successive missions, Parry, newly-married, opted to lead one more Arctic expedition. The 1827 mission would see Hecla ordered towards a higher latitude than she had ever navigated to. Parry went from his old quest to complete a Northwest Passage to a mission aimed at the North Pole. This would revisit the site of both Constantine Phipps’ 1773 expedition, and the recent David Buchan and John Franklin 1818 journey towards the Pole: the Svalbard archipelago. The overall plan had actually been thought up by Franklin. John Barrow, Second Secretary at the Admiralty, forwarded it on to Franklin’s friend Parry.23 This time, his venerable exploration vessel would serve as a base ship for a further effort to push north, by carrying up two specially-constructed boats (named Enterprise and Endeavour). The 20′ long boats were fitted with conspicuous steel runners that reached down to the ice from the bilges, and could also be moved on wheels. They were ingeniously fortified, double-planked, and protected by inner layers of felt and Mackintosh waterproof canvas. Their design had been the result of a collaboration of expert naval architects Henry Peake and Oliver Lang.24 After Hecla reached Treurenberg Bay (Sorgfjorden), the two boat crews, commanded by Parry and James Clark Ross, John Ross’s nephew, sledged northwards from Hakluyt’s Headland on pack ice, in difficult conditions.25 Where the plan had envisioned a rapid sledge up to the Pole over smooth expanses of pack ice, the crews encountered a torturous, broken landscape. They reached a furthest north record of 82° 45′ before turning back, exhaused, for the shelter of their ship.26

A note left by Parry’s crew, remaining with Hecla, to ensure that no one else absconded with a depot boat left to assist with the return from their polar mission. Credit: National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, London, Royal United Service Institution Collection (AAA3957)

And with her safe return to England from yet another record-setting mission – a highest north latitude that would stand for fifty years – Hecla reached the end of her Arctic exploration career. She was converted to the complimentary role of survey ship (to chart temperate waters, like several of the other surviving bomb vessels), and worked along the coasts of West Africa. Sold out of naval service in 1831, she was first used as a general cargo vessel and then converted to become a whaling ship for the 1835 season. Lloyd’s Register (LR) Foundation Archivist Max Wilson has located important documents to track the interesting history of Hecla’s commercial service. As Wilson notes: “Ironically Hecla was to hunt in the exact area she had opened up to whaling and explored in 1819.”27 She continued to endure Arctic punishment on annual whaling journeys to the familiar waters of the Davis Strait until she was wrecked there in 1840.28 Like her lost sister Fury, Hecla’s final resting spot has not yet been located.

With popular enthusiasm for exploration sustained by the published accounts of Parry’s exploits, the Admiralty turned to other modified bomb vessels to continue the exploration of polar regions. In late 1835, even as Hecla continued plying northern waters, there was a sudden need to rescue the crews of some of her fellow whaling ships: A dozen ships had become trapped in the pack ice of the Davis Strait. A slightly smaller, older bomb vessel, laid up at Portsmouth, was rushed into refit: HMS Terror.29 The scene was now set for the final conversions of the bomb vessel type to polar exploration ships.

This concludes our series of blog posts exploring the history of every bomb vessel that was converted to a polar discovery ship: HM Ships Furnace, Racehorse and Carcass, Hecla and Fury, Erebus and Terror.

Click for Endnotes

Christopher Middleton – the First Royal Navy Arctic Explorer – Crosses the Line in 1742

Traditionally, the Royal Navy’s program of Arctic exploration is represented as having commenced with the Constantine Phipps Expedition towards the North Pole in 1773.1 Phipps and his crews pushed north to above 80° latitude near Spitzbergen, before having to turn for home. Though the Phipps Expedition set many precedents for later polar exploration missions, it is Captain Christopher Middleton who deserves wider recognition for his trailblazing 1741-1742 Hudson’s Bay Expedition .2 This was the first Admiralty mission to search for a Northwest Passage.3 I will argue that Middleton also deserves credit for commanding the first Royal Navy expedition to explore an area north of the Arctic Circle.4 He had reached this far north in the first bomb vessel modified for northern exploration (which set the precedent for a century of discovery missions).5 During his time in Hudson’s Bay, he conducted a program of scientific research spanning several disciplines. After he arrived back in England, a dispute with Arthur Dobbs – his armchair-cartographer nemesis -marred his reputation and cast doubt upon his important discoveries.

The Naujaat Arctic Circle Arch, a gateway to the Canadian Arctic. Credit: Wes Gill from Winnipeg, Canada, CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Early on the morning of August 7th, 1742, Captain Christopher Middleton nervously paced the quarterdeck of His Majesty’s Ship Furnace.6 He and his crew believed they were on the threshold of a historic discovery: A northwest passage towards the “South Sea” (the Pacific Ocean). These explorers had diligently clawed their way up Roes Welcome Sound, between the northwestern shores of Hudson’s Bay and Southampton Island. Standing into danger, they had picked their way around “islands of ice” (icebergs) and “ledges” (land floes). When they could find no favourable winds, they had even used cables anchored to the ice to haul the ships north from berg to berg.7

A Chart of Hudson’s Straits and Bay, of Davis Straits, and Baffin’s Bay; as published in the Year 1668. This shows the extent of knowledge about the Bay after the Henry Hudson, Thomas Button, Luke Foxe, and Thomas James expeditions of the first half of the seventeenth century. “Buttons Bay” and much of the NW and SW coasts of the Bay was conjectural.8

In the hazy morning twilight of those extended northern days, Furnace had been working around a promontory which Middleton had just named “Cape Hope.” He believed this could represent the “extreme part of America,” (or the northern most point of the North American continental landmass) a major milestone along the way of achieving his Admiralty mission to discover the fabled maritime route westwards.9

Zenith Point, Murchison Promontory, on the southern shores of the Bellot Strait, is the highest point of land of continental North America, or what Middleton would have called the “extreme part of America.” It was discovered in 1852 by William Kennedy and Joseph-René Bellot. It is an important waypoint on one of the main routes of the actual Northwest Passage through the Arctic Archipelago, and is located at 72’00’06” latitude north, 740 km NNW of Middleton’s Cape Hope. Photo by author, 5 Sep. 2025.

Middleton was a skilled navigator, who had outfitted his ships with the latest navigational devices. He employed these to survey under exceptionally challenging circumstances.10 His career had prepared him for the rigors of commanding a discovery mission in the Bay.11 After early service aboard a privateer in North American waters (during Queen Anne’s War, 1702-1713), he had worked for many seasons as a merchant captain with the Hudson’s Bay Company (HBC), sailing between England and the HBC factories of the Bay on yearly supply missions.12 His experiences commanding HBC sloops had led him to enthusiastically support a popular European belief that the undiscovered shores of the Bay concealed the beginnings of the Northwest Passage.13 In early 1741, with the support of an influential ally and confidant, Arthur Dobbs, he had left HBC service to secure the command of an official Royal Navy exploration mission.14 The crews of his two ships – Furnace and the small tender Discovery – were the first Europeans to navigate these waters (whose adjoining lands were the ancestral territory of the Aivilingmiut Inuit).15 They had endured many hardships since departing England on 8 June, 1741. A dozen of their mates had already perished.16 The dedicated assistance of both the HBC staff and local indigenous communities at and around the post at Churchill, over the winter of 1741-42, had prevented a much greater loss of life.17

Prince of Wales Fort, aerial view from 1930. The fort sheltered the Middleton Expedition’s senior staff at Churchill, while the crew were lodged in the old, disused post upriver. Middleton, during his HBC career, had been involved in this massive fortification’s original design.18 Credit: Alf Erling Porsild / Department of Indian Affairs and Northern Development fonds / Library and Archives Canada / a101002-v8

As the sun burned off the haze, the watch on deck sighted high land continuing westwards from under the cape – So far, so good. But then a low shoreline materialized across Furnace’s stout bows. The land stretched around to the starboard beam. This day would bring no happy run far to the west – Christopher Middleton had discovered another bay.19 Disappointed at being “embayed” and turned away from his main objective, he named these waters “the Bay of Repulse” (the Inuktitut name for these enclosed waters is Aiviliup Tariunga). The next few days would see the expedition halted from further progress north by an impassable barrier of ice at the top of Southampton Island. The captain went ashore with two healthy crew members and an indigenous guide, climbed to the highest point he could find, and surveyed the distant shores. From this vantage he saw an iced-over passage extending towards the east, and named this the “Frozen Strait.”20 Given what would befall him upon his return home, Middleton may well have lived to regret ever having been up here in 1742. Today we can acknowledge that he started something in this northwest corner of Hudson’s Bay: An organized program of northern discovery that would eventually see the mapping of vast extents of what would become the Canadian Arctic.

The entry from Furnace’s ship’s log for 6 August 1742, illustrating the hopes and then disappointment of the crew. A selection of the log is reproduced in his Vindication. (Cited below) Middleton’s observed position for this day was 66°44’ north. 21
Click Here to Continue exploring Northwards

Raise the Terror Boat!

Raise the Terror? Raise the Terror’s Boat! Why? Read on!

Since the incredible discovery of HMS Terror in September, 2016, there has been keen interest in the archaeology taking place at the wreck. Terror was Sir John Franklin’s second ship from the ill-fated 1845 search for the Northwest Passage, and was discovered almost exactly two years after the lead ship, HMS Erebus. The 2023 archaeological season has concluded, but announcements of new discoveries by Parks Canada archaeologists remain weeks or months away. We are years from a full archaeological assessment of Terror, though a tantalizing vision has formed of an astonishingly well-preserved site, 80-feet under the waters of Terror Bay, King William Island, Nunavut. An international community of “Franklinites” – those interested in all things Franklin Expedition- continues to speculate: What was discovered this year; what new information helps explore the last days of the Expedition; are there connections to known or as yet undiscovered terrestrial archaeological sites? Is either ship an actual tomb to some of its crew?

The ship’s boat immediately to port at the stern of the Terror wreck, as represented in our 1/125 scale wreck diorama. Credit: http://www.warsearcher.com

Over the years, there have been posts on the very active “Remembering the Franklin Expedition” Facebook group, proposing to “RAISE THE TERROR” from her current location. Other members, just as passionately, dismiss the idea as premature, ruinously expensive, and potentially destructive to an artifact group members care very much about. In this post we’d like to focus on what we think would be a less contentious project. We remind readers that we are not archaeologists or marine salvage experts.

What we are proposing is to recover one artifact: RAISE TERROR’S BOAT! It is located on the seabed off the port quarter of the wreck, under a pair of davits. It can be readily seen on the site plan that was prepared by Parks’ archaeology staff in 2017 and released on their website two years later. Like the ship, this boat-wreck appears to be in very good condition after almost 175 years of frigid immersion.

HMS Terror site plan, ca. 2017, modified to emphasize the location of the ship’s boat. Credit: Parks Canada source.

The boat appears to be a standard 23-foot ship’s cutter, about 7-feet at its broadest part. It is clinker-built (overlapping boards) and has recessed slots for rowing with eight or so oars. It has several thwarts for crew and passengers, and could also be fitted with two small masts to sail it. Some upper sections of the gunwales appear to be damaged or rotted through, and it is unclear to us if it still has some type of fabric cover or is instead almost completely filled with sediment. A fallen section of davit or post rests at the squared-off stern, overhanging the transom. The rudder is not installed.1

HMS Fury, carrying a similar cutter in the same position, as depicted before the second William E. Parry Expedition searching for a NW passage. Fury was very similar to both Franklin ships, and had been wrecked in the Arctic at Somerset Island, two decades before. Detail of His Majesty’s Discovery ships, Fury and Hecla by Arthur Parsey (Artist & Engraver) Charles Joseph Hullmandel (Printer) in 1823 PAH9224.

Raising this small vessel should not compromise other areas of the wreck. The operation would not upset precious artifacts or records inside Terror, as they await systematic archaeological study. Based on the Parks Canada tour of HMS Terror film, the boat is not deeply embedded in the hard, gravel-like seabed. Compared to the complex overall sites of either Terror or Erebus, a thorough survey of the boat and its immediate surroundings should not be a multi-year operation. The full survey would ensure that no artifact, no matter how small, was overlooked.

An underwater archaeologist examines the boat near the HMS Terror wreck diorama. Credit: http://www.warsearcher.com

Once recovered and conserved, the artifact could serve a variety of purposes, helping to interpret the history of the Expedition, and its grim denouement. This cutter is a tangible link to its companion boats–the sledge-bound boats that crew members dragged along the coasts until they could go no further. It could also help explore less tragic polar exploration voyages and other searches for a Northwest Passage.2

A comparative example is the display of the famous James Caird, a 22.5-foot reinforced ship’s boat from Sir Ernest Shackleton’s expedition ship, Endurance. After the Endurance was crushed by ice in the Weddell Sea, in November 1915, the boats allowed the crew to escape to Elephant Island. Shackleton and two companions pushed on in the James Caird to South Georgia, where they were able to organize a rescue party to return to for the whole crew. The boat is now on display at Dulwich College, South London. Credit: Rumping, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Raising the Terror’s boat is only half of the ambitious plan, though! The cutter is a character-defining element of the overall Terror site. If it is raised to the surface for conservation and display, it would create an absence at the wreck site. Why not replace it with a replica that also memorializes the lost crews? A traditional boatworks in Great Britain, the Canadian Maritimes, or New England could be contracted to create a faithful copy of the craft, to be deposited (or sunk) in situ in the same exact position. It would gradually silt up and decay alongside the wreck, becoming more integrated into the environment and benthic marine ecosystem as the years pass. This new boat could also serve as a kind of benchmark or “canary in the coal mine” for identifying more rapid changes to the site, which may be less evident on the original structures. In the (hopefully distant) future, when the Terror decays, the boat could remain as one of the last wooden elements at the Terror wrecksite. Beechey Island has memorials and the replica wooden gravestones currently marking the earthly remains of three Franklin expedition crewmembers. It seems fitting that HMS Terror could have a replica boat to mark her resting spot. There are also precedents for this. Replica objects deposited at famous wrecks mark removals, and can restore an aesthetic appearance to the site.3 A suitable plaque affixed to the replica boat could help memorialize the lost crews–an underwater cenotaph to the lost men of the Franklin Expedition in an incredibly powerful location. RAISE THE TERROR’S BOAT INDEED!

So, have we persuaded you? Let us know by leaving a comment or sharing!

  1. This description is drawn from the Parks Canada Terror dive tour video linked to above, Matthew Betts’ work HMS Terror: the Design, Fitting, and Voyages of the Polar Discovery Ship, archaeological field reports about Terror prepared by Parks Canada’s Underwater Archaeology Team, and comparative examples of other Royal Navy cutters. ↩︎
  2. A 23-foot boat could also help interpret more positive events, such as when HMS Fury‘s abandoned boats were instrumental in saving Sir John Ross’s entire expedition crew, after the abandonment of their own ship Victory. Elsewhere, it is also the same basic size as the HMAV Bounty’s launch. ↩︎
  3. One example is a proposal to sink a sculpture of a 55-foot long Sea King Maritime Patrol Helicopter on the deck of the artificial reef, the former Canadian HMCS Annapolis, to reincorporate a representation of the destroyer’s helicopter detachment to the site. ↩︎