In the Land of White Death: An Epic Story of Survival in the Siberian Arctic by Jon Krakauer, David Roberts, Alison Anderson, Valerian Albanov Page A

already been cases of scurvy back on board the
Saint Anna,
and it was the lieutenant no doubt who had been the most seriously afflicted. Brusilov had been ill for six or seven months. For three months straight, he had lain flat on his back, unable to muster the strength to turn over. To accomplish this, one man had to stand on the bed straddling his legs and lift him by the hips, while another turned him by the shoulders. We had to put soft pillows under all his limbs, since he had begun to develop bedsores.

    Any sudden movement caused Brusilov pain: He would curse and shout terribly. To bathe him, we had to lower him into the bathtub on a sheet. To picture him in February 1913, imagine a skeleton covered not with skin but with rubber, from which every joint and bone protruded. When the sun rose we tried to open the portholes in his cabin, but he took a strange aversion to daylight and demanded that the portholes be shut tight and the lamp lit. Nothing could arouse him from sleep during the day; he showed no interest in anything. He refused all food: One had to persuade him, like a small child, to try an egg or some bouillon, and threaten him with no dessert.

    He would spend the day sleeping and the night in a delirious trance. In this delirium, he would at first talk quite rationally and seem to be in a good mood. Then suddenly he would begin to ask how many whales and walruses we had killed during the third winter at the mouth of the Yenesei, how many sturgeon we had caught there and sold. Or he would ask me whether the horses had been given hay or oats. “But what horses are you talking about, Georgiy L’vovich? We don’t possess a single horse. We’re in the Kara Sea aboard
Saint Anna.”
“Oh, don’t give me that story,” he would respond.

    It was mainly our nurse, Miss Zhdanko, who tirelessly nursed the invalid, and who had to suffer his outbursts of anger. She had a hard time of it. When healthy, Brusilov was refined, courteous, and tactful, but when ill, he became extremely coarse. He would hurl cups and plates at the nurse, if she cajoled him to drink some soup. But she bore it all with patience.

    But I will return to my diary.

    Those who suffer from scurvy not only need to keep moving, but also need good food, and this was a great worry to me, as our meat powder was running out, and our supplies of condensed milk and chocolate were also dwindling. And it was precisely this dried food source that would have been the best adapted for our meals, which the travails and hectic pace of our journey did not always allow us much time to prepare.
     

MAY 23
     

    In the morning, the weather was fine and clear. Our scouts promised us smooth travel, and they were right, for we covered five whole miles between ten in the morning and six-thirty in the evening. The northeast wind continued to blow steadily, which was a great blessing, since it forced the ice floes tight together, thereby reducing the width of crevasses and open leads, allowing our sledges to run smoothly. Toward noon I took a sun sight and found a latitude of 82°31´ north. To the south, the horizon was crystal clear with no water sky. I had the impression that the ice had stopped drifting southward with the wind, probably because it had encountered some resistance—which in my opinion could only come from a landmass. But this opinion remained mere speculation, since all the goodwill in the world had not permitted me to find land up to now! There were no signs of life whatsoever. We had spotted a few bear tracks, but not a single seal.

    Our supplies were diminishing at an alarming rate. All that remained were six pounds of meat powder, three tins of condensed milk, and roughly two pounds of dried apples. The last of the chocolate was handed out today. All we have left for our main source of nourishment are ship’s biscuits.

    I hear constant conversations about the tastiest foods the men can imagine. Involuntarily, I start to think of such treats