New York Times bestselling author Mark Synnott has climbed with Alex Honnold. He’s scaled Mt. Everest. But in 2022, he realized there was a dream he’d never realized—to sail the Northwest Passage in his own boat, a feat only four hundred or so sailors had ever accomplished—and in doing so, try to solve the mystery of what happened to legendary nineteenth-century explorer Sir John Franklin and his ships, HMS Erebus and Terror.
Only a few hundred vessels have ever transited the Northwest Passage, stretching through Canada’s north from Maine to Alaska—and substantially fewer have completed the treacherous journey in a fiberglass-hulled boat like Polar Sun. But Mark Synnott was determined to add his name to the list, and in doing so, also investigate a 175-year-old mystery, that of what happened to the legendary captain Sir John Franklin and his crew aboard the legendary HMS Erebus and HMS Terror.
In this pulse-pounding travelogue, Mark Synnott paints a vivid portrait of the modern-day Arctic like you’ve never seen before. With human-caused climate change warming the region twice as fast as any other part of our planet, Synnott offers a fresh and exciting look at the journey itself, but also of the history of the land and the people who live there today. At the same time, he searches for the tomb of Franklin, who, along with his entire 128-man crew, perished after their ships became trapped in the ice near King William Island.
In Into the Ice, Mark and his crew must race against time and horrific storms to investigate legends, and in the end, try to find the answer to why any of us would risk it all in the name of exploration.
"Mark Synnott is a New York Times bestselling author, a pioneering big wall climber and one of the most prolific adventurers of his generation. His search for unclimbed and unexplored rock walls has taken him on more than 30 expeditions to places like Alaska, Baffin Island, Greenland, Iceland, Newfoundland, Patagonia, Guyana, Venezuela, Pakistan, Nepal, India, China, Tibet, Uzbekistan, Russia, Cameroon, Chad, Borneo, Oman and Pitcairn Island. Closer to home, Mark has climbed Yosemite’s El Capitan 24 times, including several one-day ascents."
Sadly, this wasn't quite as enthralling as I was hoping. I still persisted through until the end, but it definitely fits a niche for a specific type of travel/science book lover, and not most.
When I read INTO THE ICE, I was thinking about two other books, both very disparate. The first (you will forgive me if I don't recall the title) was by my fellow Baylor Bear, Chip Gaines, and it was a kinda-sorta autobiography, the story of his career as someone who restores old houses on TV, and I came away from that thinking that Chip Gaines was the most obnoxious, self-absorbed, insufferable person I had ever ran across in print.
Generally speaking, if you are first-person narrating your own story, and you come across like Chip Gaines, even a little bit, you are in a lot of trouble. Mark Synnott is a much better writer than Chip Gaines and generally a more accomplished person. Synnott is a mountain climber (he climbed Mount Everest, and is the sort of person who feels the need to remind you about this every so often) and developed a love of sailing in the South Pacific. He then bought a boat, promptly got divorced, bought another boat and got another wife, and conceived the idea of sailing this boat from Maine, all the way up to Greenland, through the ice-bound Arctic Sea, ending up at Nome, Alaska. This is a fiberglass sailing boat, the kind you see in marinas everywhere, not exactly an icebreaker, you understand.
Why do this? The answer seems to be that very few people have climbed Mount Everest (including Mark Synnott! Ask him, he'll tell you about it!) but fewer have sailed the Northwest Passage, and Synnott wanted to be one of those people, too. But in order to make this a going concern, Synnott needed a sponsor, and that sponsor ended up being National Geographic, and they wanted to do a documentary that was basically (you will never believe this) NOT about Mark Synnott, necessarily, but was about something else entirely, and that something else was the Franklin expedition.
This brings me to the other book, THE MINISTRY OF TIME, by Kaliane Bradley, which is sort-of-kind-of about the Franklin expedition, or rather about a near-future junior bureaucrat in London who finds herself babysitting a refugee from the Franklin expedition plucked out of time. One of the pleasant things about THE MINISTRY OF TIME (other than it not having anything to do with Chip Gaines) is that... er... you don't actually have to know anything about the Franklin expedition other than the key facts that it was populated by a bunch of stoic stiff-upper-lip English types and that everybody died, because of course they did. You can move on to the story.
That strategy doesn't work here. Mark Synnott has read an appalling amount about the Franklin expedition, and shares a good bit of it. National Geographic, in its wisdom, decided that the long-lost Franklin expedition is much, much more interesting than Mark Synnott (I know, I'm as shocked as you are) and so that's what the documentary is going to be about, so the story of Mark Synnott sailing a ship there takes second place to that, and it becomes a big part of the book as well.
Several points to be made.
1. I like Mark Synnott much better when he is talking about the Franklin expedition than when he is talking about himself. There's a passage where Synnott gets crossways with one of his crew, and he pauses to reflect that, you know, people have told me I can be a little overbearing at times. Reader, I was reading this book on my phone, and I did not throw my phone across the room, because it is expensive. Had I been reading a physical book, there's a good chance it would have somehow become embedded in the drywall. "A little overbearing?" YOU DON'T SAY.
2. There is the question of "how much do you need to know about the Franklin expedition before you read this book?" I don't think the answer to that is "a whole lot," but more than the basics would be helpful. There are two reasons for that. First, the reason why the whole Franklin thing is interesting is because it is a mystery, we don't know exactly what happened when and what caused the death of all those people. Second, because Synnott tells the story non-chronologically, skipping around, depending on where he is geographically at the time.
3. You don't need to know anything about sailing, though, Synnott is just a good enough writer that you can tell what is going on without you having to know how to splice the bowline or anything like that.
Do I recommend this book? I mean, it more-or-less comes down to how much Arctic adventure you're willing to stand. I am generally okay with that, it's why I picked the book up in the first place. If you're fine with the rest of it, go for it. (But don't read the Chip Gaines book, I am begging you.)
I love a good travelogue that is constructed around a historical narrative. The holy grail for such a book is Rebecca West’s ‘Black Lamb and Grey Falcon’. Synnott is no Rebecca West, but he is a solid writer and the Franklin expedition has intrigued me ever since I read Simmon’s ‘The Terror’ as a teenager. I have zero sailing background, so it was pleasant to learn a little bit about that as well. Low four stars, and I recommend Synnott’s earlier book, ‘The Third Pole’, as well.
A real page turner. I love reading about extreme adventures in cold regions, and Mark Synnott is a great storyteller. He skillfully combines the narrative of an attempt to sail the Northwest Passage in his own boat with a lot of historical background - not only stories about the lost expedition of Sir John Franklin, but also about the indigenous inhabitants of the Arctic.
My main objections are actually raised by the author himself. At one point he begins to question his motives: “This voyage was a dream come true for me, but it was also expensive, had no intrinsic purpose, and certainly wasn’t serving the locals in any way”. And a little earlier he admits:
“I’d come to realize that there was something alien about moving through these waters aboard a modern sailing yacht with a fixed timetable, requisite fuel stops, and a need to always keep pushing as fast and hard as possible. Ensconced within Polar Sun’s canvas enclosure or in my bunk deep inside the ship, I often felt removed from the landscapes, the wildlife, and the people who lived in the communities through which we passed. It was obvious that the best way to travel through this realm was by foot and paddle, as Inuit have for millennia with their dog sleds and kayaks, traveling nimbly from one community and hunting ground to the next. And it saddened me that I might be missing the essence of the place that I so badly wanted to experience.”
While I don't want to undermine what the author and his crew achieved, the reader's thrill is a bit diminished by the knowledge that they could abort their voyage and evacuate at any time. I have to admit that I prefer to read about more daring adventures, like Adam Shoalts' explorations of the Canadian Arctic - yes, by foot and paddle, alone and self-sufficient for weeks at a time.
Still, Synnott's voyage "makes a hell of a story," to quote the author, so if you like that kind of armchair travel, you should definitely read this book.
Thanks to the publisher, PENGUIN GROUP Dutton, and NetGalley for an advanced copy of this book.
Got over halfway through it but unfortunately a DNF for me; Mark’s arrogance and self-absorbed personality is truly off-putting and it was hard to care about his journey. I was really only trying to get through it for the historical context of the book (of which there are many interesting parts that had been shared in the book) but I think I’d rather just read another book that covers this subject area entirely to save me from hearing much about the author himself.
I read Mark Synnott’s Mt Everest book The Third Pole a couple years ago. Despite finding it unorganized and deeply confused about exactly what kind of book it wanted to be, I still ended up loving it. Some of that came down to the writing. If nothing else, Synnott is a talented and entertaining storyteller. But a lot of the enjoyment I got out of the book came from amusement at Synnott’s off putting personality and hilarious willingness to abandon his own stated reasons for traveling to Everest as soon as he got there in favor of just climbing the mountain the same as everyone else was doing. Into The Ice has similar issues, and skates by those issues for similar reasons.
This book presents itself as one half the story of the search for answers to the nearly two centuries old mystery of the fate of the crews of the Erebus and Terror, and one half Mark Synnott deciding he wants to sail the Northwest Passage in his own boat just because, and using a historical mystery as a hook to reel in funding from National Geographic to pay for his trip. If you’ve read The Third Pole you can already see the similarities and guess what happens.
As a work of history this book is not great. Synnott makes the decision to tell the story of the Erebus and Terror geographically instead of chronologically. I can see why he’d do this, Synnott wants to connect in the reader’s mind the story of John Franklin’s doomed expedition with whatever leg of his own personal journey the author happens to be on at that point in the book. In practice though it leads to Franklin’s story being told out of order, with frequent references to later expeditions that were sent out in search of Franklin thrown in to the text to further muddy the narrative waters. It just causes the whole book to feel disorganized.
Also there’s simply not a lot of history here. This isn’t a very long book, and Synnott has his own shit to worry about, so the accounts of the Erebus and Terror, and the later ships that went out in search for them, all feel pretty abbreviated. If you just want a quick summary of events and can deal with the convoluted manner in which the facts are given then this is fine. But if you’re primarily interested in the history here, I’d say go somewhere else.
And then you know, there’s the fact that none of this history gets you anywhere in the end. The Erebus and Terror are an enduring mystery that’s fascinated people all over the world for nearly two hundred years. If Synnott had discovered anything new, or answered any of the questions surrounding the expedition’s fate, you definitely would have heard about it. So I don’t think it’s much of a spoiler to say that Synnott turns up nothing much and very little is accomplished on this side of the book. He lays out his explanation for the known movements of the two crews after they abandoned their ships and that’s kind of it. His theory of the case is intriguing enough, but it’s also mostly just inconclusive speculation. That’s not Synnott’s fault, speculating is pretty much all anybody can do with the available information, but it is what it is, and what it is isn’t terribly satisfying.
If Erebus and Terror were what this book is truly about then I would say this is a very bad book. But that stuff isn’t the point of the book, and really I’d say it’s just window dressing. The point of the book is Mark Synnott being Mark Synnott, only this time on a boat.
What does that mean exactly? Well it means the guy is very much a presence within his book, and that presence very often comes across as pretty ridiculous. It’s unclear exactly how aware of this ridiculousness Synnott actually is. He’s happy enough for instance to paint himself in a bad light when talking about how badly he got on with his ship’s crew. In dealing with them he frequently comes across as overbearing and indecisive as he himself admits. Add to that his tendency to talk shit about them in his books where his criticisms will be preserved forever and it’s a real “wow how do you even have any friends at all?” sort of situation with this guy. So some obvious self awareness there.
But then you get stuff like the scene where he meets a new acquaintance, and with a straight face and zero irony describes himself to this person as someone who specializes in solving historical mysteries and just try to imagine someone saying something like that to you out loud and you not rolling your eyes at them while making a jerk off motion with your hand. Can you imagine that? I can’t. I have a hard time believing the man is in on the bit here when he says stuff like this.
I mention this stuff not to shit on Synnott, but to say that how much you enjoy this book is probably going to depend at least in part on how you react to the author’s personality. I generally just laughed, sometimes with him, sometimes at him, but I see other reviewers finding him pretty frustrating, and yeah I get it.
Lots of issues to be had with the book here, but much like The Third Pole, I find myself mostly giving those issues a pass because at heart it’s still a pretty entertaining read. Synnott is good at writing about people having adventures in the wilderness. When he gets iced in to a bay it’s genuinely nerve wracking, you can feel the dread, frustration and anxiety he and his crew have of being boxed in and run aground. He talks about instances of floating chunks of ice the size of semi-trailers and football fields bearing down on his boat from multiple directions at once and those are some real “oh shit” type of moments.
He’s also effective at talking about the hypocrisies of his adventuring lifestyle. That his pointless journey (those are his words, not mine) through the Northwest Passage is only possible due to climate change, and that the huge increases in resource extraction, commerce, and tourism that climate change allows for in the Arctic are destroying the Inuit’s traditional way of life. That he’s literally making things worse for these people by just being there. This stuff works.
So overall this is entertaining travel writing, but poor history, and sometimes it’s pretty funny, but probably not intentionally so. Much like The Third Pole this was a book I enjoyed a lot, but in a real warts and all sort of way.
Superb armchair travel/history. Perfect reading for a summer day, when reading of the frozen north is cooling. The author did a great job with the history of European polar exploration. I appreciated that he pointed out, several times, the way that the Europeans' cultural/racial prejudices regarding the local populations worked against their possibility of success. I was already vaguely familiar with the Franklin expedition and its tragic end; it was nice to get a refresher, as well as details I hadn't known before. Kudos to the map makers--I made good use of them throughout my reading.
I also appreciated the author's self-awareness; the irony of his voyage's success depending on the climate changes that are destroying the Inuit traditional way of life. Those discourses are what stuck in my thoughts long after the exciting parts had started to fade. Lots of food for thought...
What a great read for anyone a fan of history, culture, arctic and adventure, like me. Mark was able to blend the details of his Northwest Passage voyage with the tale of the lost ships and sailors of HMS Erebus and Terror with ease.
I enjoyed learning about Inuit culture and life in the arctic. Also, there is the unfortunate truth that climate change is threatening these fragile places and reading Into The Ice makes me want to advocate even more for the protection of these areas.
I loved the cliffhangers and I wasn’t sure at times if they would actually make it through the passage that season. I can’t imagine sailing through arctic water surrounded by giant icebergs and polar bears, threatened by multiple storms and it definitely made for an epic adventure.
I can also relate to the riff between Mark and Ben, it’s hard to live with people closely for so long without tension building up. I was happy they were able to stay friends.
I would recommend this book for any fans of outdoor adventure novels. I can’t wait to check out Mark’s other books The Third Pole and The Impossible climb. Thank you to Goodreads for this giveaway win, I was so excited for this one it is totally my niche!
"Into the Ice" is a marvelously written telling of the author's near-obsessive desire to traverse the Northwest Passage, sailing a fiberglass boat from Maine, up into the Arctic, and westward to Nome, Alaska. Along the way he finds incredible weather, great beauty, and a little about himself. While the secondary theme of finding Sir John Franklin's tomb grew a little tiresome towards the last 100 pages of the book, you can easily skip those parts if you like.
Incredible story of a man's desire to sail through the Northwest Passage, and at the same time try to uncover the mystery of the disappearance of men from the Franklin expedition from back in the 1840s. Every time I read about stories like this I am totally amazed at how some people can push themselves to such limits of endurance, and beyond. Not sure I could do it. In fact, I am sure I could not do it, lol. I am an active guy and have pushed myself numerous times hiking, skiing, scuba diving, etc., but never to such extremes as Mark Synnott did in this story. Very interesting story about how he and several commrades were able to successfully journey from Maine, through the Northwest Passage, all the way to Nome, AK. Kudos to him for having the perserverance to succeed in this endevour.
If you are a Mark Synnott fan, or generally a fan of sailing/Arctic literature, I absolutely do recommend reading Into the Ice.
This firsthand account of voyaging through the Northwest Passage is timely, with vital awareness of climate change and socio-political factors. It's also a pretty good rundown of the legendary and tragic Franklin expedition. That said, I felt the narrative became a bit jumbled, perhaps too given to including minutia and terminology that was often hard to follow. Portions of this book seem geared for people with advanced sailing knowledge and a high level of familiarity with Franklin expedition lore. And when a book is marketed for a wider NYTimes bestseller readership, that's a drawback.
Into the Ice is at its best with Mark recounting the highs and lows of his voyage, including passages of rigorous self and interpersonal examination. Even with the ability to press "the Nat Geo button" and call for rescue, the crew accepted considerable risks to life and property, experienced adventure, and enjoyed moments of great camaraderie on the Arctic waters.
This was a hard one to rate. The last 75 pages were awesome, but the middle 50% I had trouble with. I have high respect for this book but unfortunately the cadence when talking about past expeditions was challenging for me. I feel like I understood why Syncott wrote this how he did and I feel like he did a great job, but it’s just an atypical way of describing an adventure in that he is describing his current adventure of trying to find out what happened to Franklin and his men when they set out to “discover” the Northwest Passage 150 years ago while also commenting on explorers who, between the initial wreck and present day, also made contributions to finding information about Franklin and his team. If I had approached this more like a book I had to study, I would have gotten more out of it, but I just didn’t want to take that approach.
I read reviews saying that the book jumped too much between the adventure and the history such that it was hard to focus. I thought I could handle this because I’ve recently read The Wide, Wide Sea and was familiar with arctic adventure terminology and the Northwest Passage, but alas, I failed. The switching was at times very distracting, and when it wasn’t distracting, I was left-over distracted at times. In fact, I could not anchor to previous Franklin expeditions as much as needed to really get into the book, and I really have no idea about the specifics of the contributions of people like Ross and McClintock or other previous explorers that Synnott talks about. At one point in the middle, I almost put this book down, but I decided that I enjoyed the current-day adventure bits and some of the pieces of history enough to continue reading and be ok with zoning out sometimes/often. I am really glad I did not put it down, though- it was worth sticking with it.
One thing that kept crossing my mind, and that Syncott does address in the Notes, is how Inuit knew/know so much about the Northwest passage because- they’ve been living there for centuries. And then white people / non Inuit come along, thinking they are hot stuff, “discovering” this new route, which will “help” the civilized world. First off, y’all aren’t discovering anything- at least not for the first time. “The incredible irony, which John Ross himself came the closest to understanding through his interactions with Ikmallik the Hydrographer, is that the Inuit always hold the keys to this kingdom. Not only did they live and raise their families and what the British considered terra incognita, but they had long ago explored every inlet, straight, and island in this Arctic maze. All the explorers had to do was ask, and Inuit would have filled in the blanks on their maps for them.”
Secondly- all of the exploration is actually damaging Inuit territory, which Syncott also acknowledges. Commercial shipping, resource extraction, and tourism are huge contributors to increased Arctic ice melt, which will ultimately lead to the loss of Inuit land and destruction of natural resources, and which obviously is a contributor to increased global temperate. The melting of Arctic ice leads to colder winters, warmer summers, and increased hurricanes / tropical storms (he goes more into this in the book but this is something most people are likely aware of at base level). It’s all really sad, and also something worth spending time thinking about, in my opinion.
Also, the more I read about tough sailing voyages, the more I’d love to do them- they sound SO BAD ASS. But of course, there is the environmental impact factor, of which I don’t know enough about for sailing (it seems you only use your engine when you need to? How often is that?) Anyway - makes for a great adventure story.
“As Spain, Portugal, France, and Great Britain jockeyed endlessly to expand their empires, they justified their subjugation of millions of indigenous people by telling anyone who would listen that as Christians it was their duty to spread civilization to the ‘rude and savage tribes of the world,’ as one British explorer later put it.”
“Indigenous knowledge of the local geography could have directed the Admiralty where to go and when and, perhaps more important, how to survive if things didn’t go as planned. But the colonial mindset of the time, combined with a healthy dose of racism, made it impossible for men like Barrow to access this knowledge.”
“This ice cap [The largest one on Greenland] acts like a giant refrigerator, and its cooling effect is so strong that it actually impedes prevailing westerly winds, deflecting them north. As a result, Greenland‘s west coast enjoys a relatively mild climate and mostly ice-free seas that allow Viking ships to sail without restraint between Greenland and Europe.”
“The sun had set hours earlier, but the perpetual arctic twilight made it possible to see without a headlamp.”
“He said that it was ‘iceblink,’ a phenomenon peculiar to the high latitudes, where sunlight reflects off the frozen ocean, projecting a mirror image onto the underside of the cloudscape like the screen of a drive-in movie.”
“But industrial development comes at a heavy cost of the environment, the wildlife, and the ancient Inuit hunting-and-fishing culture. As one person commented in the Nunatsiaq News forum, ‘It is almost impossible to have the benefits of a western lifestyle, including petroleum vehicles and modern hunting rifles and central heating in houses, but still claim allegiance to the old ways. They are mutually incompatible.’”
“The evening was clear and mild; wispy cirrus clouds curled across the troposphere, and a light breeze from the south west ruffled the Arctic cotton grass that quilted the banks of the river. While a flock of geese tootled nearby and a kaleidoscope of Arctic grayling butterflies flitted among floating tufts of goose down…”
“Shorter winters also mean less snow cover, which allows the layer of earth insulating the permafrost to absorb more heat, lending to more melt. And so the cycle continues. By some estimates, the Earth’s permafrost holds up to fifteen hundred gigatons of carbon – more than the total amount already in our atmosphere. As permafrost thaws, this carbon is released in the form of carbon dioxide and methane, further reinforcing a doom-cycle feedback loop that scientists call ‘Arctic amplification.’”
“Yes, I was tired, perhaps more so than I’d ever been in my life. But I’d managed to latch onto something irresistible in the Northwest Passage, something I’ve been seeking for a long time. And that was how I found myself in the confusing place of wanting it all to be over a while at the same time feeling totally content right where I lay.” - one of the most romantic sentiments I’ve heard
- not well organized, would’ve been better to switch between authors journey and franklins - lacked focus - is it about the history of the northwest passage in general? Franklin himself? His journeys and subsequent rescue missions? The discovery of the wrecks of terror and Erebus? It was too much to include snippets of everything - assumed knowledge of Franklin and sailing which made some parts difficult to understand without that base - oh the hubris of a white man with so much privilege on his hands he has to work to make his life more interesting and still isn’t happy - what’s the point when you have the Nat Geo button? There’s not even any stakes! - he always starts out with an interest in a historical mystery and then quickly abandons it in favor of completing the feat he scorned or said wasn’t the point of the trip - acknowledging complexity of native issues but doing nothing to limit playing into them doesn’t make you evolved
My thanks to NetGalley and Penguin Group Dutton for an advance copy of this new book that is a memoir of a life, a history of lost explorers, a documentation of a voyage of discovery and wonder of what makes people want to see what is just over the next horizon, even if they never come back.
I remember once doing some straightening in the history section of the bookstore I was working at, a section I loved, doing something I enjoyed. I remember getting to the Exploration section, and going wow I forgot how many book on polar explorations there are, and how many of them I had read. There is a siren song that makes people want to go to the ice. Numerous books, hiking, walking, climbing, dog sledding, sailing over, under even far above. Many of these books well the ending is quite clear, sometimes in the subtitle. Lost, missing, vanished are usually attached. And yet so many want to go North or South. This obsession runs also to scholars, with their need to know why expeditions failed. Humans aren't fans of mystery. We like knowing what is in the dark, what is out there, and what if pressed we as humans can do to survive, to thrive and come back alive to fame, glory, or just self satisfaction. Into the Ice: The Northwest Passage, the Polar Sun, and a 175-Year-Old Mystery by explorer, writer and documentarian, Mark Synnott, asks these questions even while risking his life and his friends sailing the same waters that have taken so many lives before.
Mark Synnott has climbed the highest mountains, sailed seas, worked on documentaries, and has seen what an exploring life can do to people, and relationships. Still, Synnott had a dream of sailing the world with his second wife and children, but first maybe a little side trip. A breaking in trip along the Northwest Passage the sea lane between the Atlantic and Pacific, with a few friends, just to see how a long trip could be. Synnott was able to afford this by working with National Geographic, who would film the voyage, and film Synnott working with other teams to find the lost tomb of Sir John Franklin. Franklin was the head of the Franklin expedition, who disappeared looking for the Northwest Passage 175 years earlier, with few traces of the 123 men left. Synnott sails the passage, becoming trapped in ice, dealing with a crew that had had their own opinions, meeting many other travellers and becoming aware of the fact that a way of life for many native people was slowly disappearing.
A fascinating book in so many ways. The book looks at the urge to explore, the love of ice, the hubris of exploration, human interactions, the perils of leadership, the use of vodka on tight boats, and how quickly something can go from normal to deadly. Also it is a celebration of people from difficult, his best friend, to generous, an elderly man sharing his knowledge and charts of the Northwest passage, another working hard to make sure that Synnott's boat will run correctly. One meets dreamers, obsessives, and people just trying to get by. As Synnott travels one gets the feeling why people explore, and what drives them. Also that maybe asking some questions of the local people might save a lot of work, money and time. I find it funny that so many people were looking for the missing Franklin boats, but the native people were like, you know we have a story about it being over there, and were right. However by being right, this could mean problems for their way of life, as tourists and others bring their own problems.
Synnott is a good writer, not afraid of looking foolish, and one comes away with a bit of mixed feelings about the man. However the book is riveting, with storms, ice, danger, financial ruin, and lots of great stories. Plus one gets a lot of insight on the explorer urge. A book for nautical fans, history fans, adventure fans, and people who like to read about the wide world, from the safety of their couch. One won't be disappointed.
Experienced climber Mark Synnott was bitten by the arctic bug and decided that his insatiable lust for adventure was pointing him towards the Northwest Passage. He learned to sail, bought a boat (named "Polar Sun" in honor of a mountain peak Synnott climbed which partly inspired all of this), hired a crew, and set off on his journey. Another important impetus for his trip was a curiosity about Sir John Franklin's infamous disappearance, along with his entire crew, into the Northwest Passage in 1845. Franklin's grave was never found, and, as of 2025, we still do not know exactly what happened.
Synnott walks us through his journey, including the logistics of sailing a boat, managing a crew, and dealing with paperwork. Throughout the book, he intersperses stories from others who have traveled through the Northwest Passage from both long ago and within the last couple decades. He also lays out a great deal of the contemporary research into the Franklin expedition, its findings, and loose threads. There is a lot to unpack here, but suffice it to say that a lot of what we know is based on rumor, conjecture, and missed opportunities.
During this venture, Synnott makes friends with others sailing the same route, becomes acquainted with some of the Inuit who live in the area, and experiences both the wonderous highs and terrifying lows of sailing through one of the most hostile environments in the world.
And this book is not without its moments of self-reflection. Synnott takes the time to consider the impact he and other interlopers have on the native people. He recognizes that the very conditions that allow him to sail his small boat through the Northwest Passage are the result of changes to the global climate that spells doom for countless people and animals.
In the end, this is an interesting look at what traversing the Northwest Passage in 2022 looks like. Even with all of the modern technology and comforts, it is still dangerous. As the arctic warms, the Northwest Passage continues to grow in usage by cargo shipping companies and cruise ships, but the majestic vistas and supreme feelings of isolation and a connection with nature are still there. Franklin's grave is still out there somewhere (perhaps filled with journals with a tale to tell), but Synnott is content to brush up against history, even if only in a fleeting way.
I think the hardest bit of writing non-fiction is that by the time you have the wisdom, patience, word smithery, and connections to get a book published, you're likely at midlife at the earliest. Then, it must take a couple decades to fully research and immerse yourself Robert Caro style, writing a masterwork on any given subject. For the Arctic, that writer might have been Barry Lopez, and his two books on both the complete history of polar exploration, and his own experiences with the place and its people. I have not read Synnott's book on Everest, Irvine, and Mallory, simply because I can't see any work on the subject coming anywhere close the masterpiece that is Wade Davis'"Into the Silence".
I doubt Synnott has much time at all, with the life full of rich adventures he has lived. However, where he shines, is that beyond being a academic, he has truly been there. He has spent the time on the water in all conditions, and exploring unknown rock faces on the sharp end of the rope. In this book he also paints the same fascinating picture of the Arctic that Barry Lopez does. A land of contradictions, both beautiful and endlessly bare; a time capsule of past ways of life, and a place doomed by global warming and modern resource extraction.
It's the tales of his trip, and the interaction with the stubborn, unique characters, willing to punish themselves alongside him I found most enjoyable. As fascinating as the lives of old school adventurers are, I found myself skimming the sections where he gets into the weeds with conjecture about the fate of Franklin's men. For me, it is enough to know that 110 men died, cold, hungry, and suffering from scurvy and whatever else, in a frozen wasteland, with little hope of rescue. Exactly where and when they died matters little at this point, but to hear their final words and thoughts, echoing from the past must be what drives those still searching for their hidden artifacts.
Overall a great read, and I'm more than happy to have spent my 13$ if it helps finance Synnott's next adventure. Even if that's just sailing around the tropics with his family.
Here is an author who is an exceptional, relatively new entry into the world of extreme personal and historical adventure. Most of us do not aspire to journey into the arctic, scale thousand foot walls without ropes, surf hundred foot waves, or climb the highest peaks in the world. But yet we are drawn, many of us, to those who do, and not just to live vicariously through them some kind of adrenaline rush, but, I believe, to journey ourselves toward a series of similar questions these bold travelers have that we couch-bound mortals also carry. Namely, obscure questions with even more obscure answers in the realm of the unknown. That may seem rather vague, and indeed the questions themselves are vague and the answers even more elusive. That is what sets this particular writer apart from others of his kind who I have read and loved. He begs the question.
At the heart of this book is a very deep exploration about the innate human need to search. For an extreme adventure traveler, an outward searching as a way to manifest inward answers. Synnott blessedly never explicitly states this goal, but it saturates the entire story, from the doomed Franklin expedition of 1845, to those who are obsessively trying to unearth the mystery of that story, his own formidable voyage through the Northwest passage, and his intimate, personal inquisitions into the self. This book is not just one hell of a page turner you can't put down because you want to know where the adventure leads and what kind of answers reside at the end. It demands a personal journey of the reader into our own questions of self, purpose, and longing for answers. Best of all, Synnott does not give us any etched-in-stone resolutions. What he does do is force a similar excavation of the self and the questions we bury within and are often too terrified to dig up and examine. And perhaps, like the secrets of the Franklin expedition, some answers are not meant to be revealed. What we must do he seems to be saying is go in search of them anyway. One need not leave the comfort and safety of a couch in order to do so.
As I write this review the author is currently in the South Pacific as confirmed by the tracking link kindly provided in the notes. Assuming, that is, that he is on his yacht the Polar Sun since it’s the vessel that being tracked not the author. I hope that he is on board with his wife and young son as he indicated he would in the epilogue of this book.
I’m a sucker for adventure books like this. I thoroughly enjoyed the narrative of sailing in a part of the world that I knew hardly anything about. Reading along with Google Maps open on my tablet, I got a new appreciation for the geography and remoteness of the Canadian Arctic and went down many a rabbit hole learning about topics that were new to me. For example, the St. Mary Iron ore mine. Who knew about that? Very few I would imagine.
For me, the sailing story itself would have been of sufficient interest but obviously that doesn’t “sell” as well as the potential to solve the Franklin mystery. Obviously the author needed this angle and the sponsorship it brought to allow him to complete his mission of joining the small group of yachtsmen to have traversed the NW Passage. But I found this aspect of the story confusing as the tale was not recounted chronologically. That’s not the fault of the author as he wove the segments of the expedition and roll-up effort to find the ships in his own based on his location. But I lost track of who was where when, etcetera. I think I would read a different book, specific to Franklin, to understand that better.
Certainly no regrets in reading it. I would be happy to read more by this author.
While, in general, the book was a good read with regard to the history of exploration of the region and the attempts to find a Northwest Passage; and the story of the author's particular trip thru that passage, I found that there were a few issues that troubled me.
First, instead of just coming clean and confessing that he (they) never found Franklin's tomb, he strings the readers along as though the find was going to be made. The truth is that it was an impossible task that had no chance of success, but the author failed to admit it.
Second, there were some loose ends that were never tightened up. They had to abandon their anchor line when they were threatened with being subject to the movements of the ice pack in which they found themselves in Pasley Bay. He mentioned how that abandonment included a trick to allow its recovery. Yet, when they were freed from the ice in Pasley Bay, he never describes retrieving the anchor; or deciding to abandon it and purchase another in one of the areas in which they stopped. He never describes replacing their anchor, if it was not retrieved. Yet, later, all of a sudden, when an anchor was needed, they had one. How did they get one? I don't think an entire chapter should have spent on describing how they recovered, or replaced their anchor, but I do think having an anchor on a trip such as his was important enough that he should have described how the anchor they abandoned was replaced, or retrieved.
Other than these failings, I was intrigued by the stories surrounding the Franklin expedition and the efforts to find them, or their remains; and the story of the author's trip thru the Northwest Passage.
This book aims to do many things - too many. Its documents an attempt to sail through the northwest passage, and in the process look for clues regarding the lost Franklin expedition. It also provides the history of the lost Franklin expedition, from the limited evidence discovered. These two objectives themselves are challenging, as the unfamiliar bays and straits and islands make visualizing both the Franklin expedition and the author's journey challenging. In general, this is performed well, though I just had to be okay with not understanding everything.
The author then attempts on adding a few more elements to this story. A good chunk of the book discusses his personal life and interactions/arguments with his crew. Frankly, the modern adventurer seems to be living a self-centered life, putting their next quest in front of friends and family and reason, so its hard to for these sections to resonate emotionally.
Finally, weaving through this book is criticism of western societies for the mistreatment and undervaluing of the indigenous people of the territory. A notable cause, but Synnott seems to drop his standard of journalistic integrity when doing this. For instance, the author repeats the Kamloops First Nation claim of 215 identified unmarked graves found near a former residential school without noting that many many excavations have not found these, uh, "found" graves.
Overall, Synnott had a very challenging story to tell and only partially succeeded.
This is the full account of adventure, history and friendship that was briefly retold in a National Geographic program in the last year or two. Synnott is a mountain climber and adventurer who can barely sit still. He finds a motor sailboat, recruits his best friend, finds a photographer and some financing through National Geographic and takes off for the Arctic. Like so many others, his adventure is motivated by the Franklin expedition of the mid-1840s. Although both ships have been found in their resting places under the sea, Franklin's own grave and some possible log books that were sequestered have never been found. An overland trip to find strange stone outlines a pilot had seen from the air but couldn't find again, and the ice pack stranding of the little sailboat were the topics of the TV program. But Synnott talked to many Inuit and traces their oral stories, as well as expeditions by land and sea that came before Franklins, and the many attempts to find Franklin in the years after. The barren landscape and tremendous storms are well described. And a solid friendship is severely put to the test because of differing styles of solving problems. A great read of adventure for the armchair adventurer.
This book features the author's perhaps foolhardy expedition to traverse the Northwest Passage in a small fibreglass boat, Polar Sun, filmed and podcasted for National Geographic. With GPS, a drone, underwater camera, e-mail and radio, it's far from the days of Franklin. But the ice is still the ice. Telling us as we travel about the doomed expeditions of exploration, finding small artefacts and notes from Inuit witnesses to probable survivors, the author looks for graves, wrecks and clues. He finds bears, among other things. The journey in a cramped small yacht with a few recalcitrant crew is at times tough going. But when it's a case of, berth on land in September and return next year, or else keep going despite the near certainty of Arctic sea ice trapping the vessel or Pacific storms chasing one another up to Alaska, the reader desperately wants the crew to keep going. The worst storm in seventy years is about to hit. I enjoyed the read and I would hope that the finished book carries photos. A list of resources is in the back of the book. I read an e-ARC from Net Galley. This is an unbiased review.
Mark Synnott gives us a gripping, exciting report into his 2022 journey through Canada's Northwest Passage in his very own fiberglass-hulled boat. While navigating through the treacherous waters around the inhospitable Artic islands he offers a fresh look at the history of the land. He also wanted to investigate what happened to the legendary captain Sir John Franklin and his crew aboard HMS Erebus and HMS Terror; Mark details this adventure he took in hoping to uncovering the a 175-year-old mystery with excitement and tact.
Mark does an incredible job putting us in the setting of the rigid, vast environment he explored, and painted a vivid image of both the beauty and challenges he endured. This is a fantastic narrative of his sailing expedition and thorough historic detective work and research.
Those who love and appreciate extreme adventure, expedition travel, explorations, voyages, geography, nature, and history will find this an inspirational and entertaining read!
Thank you Penguin Group and Dutton for providing me this ARC of the book for review consideration via NetGalley! All opinions are my own.
As I was reading this book I wasn't sure how I felt about it. The prologue was just okay and didn't make me think I was going to love it. Then the Captain Franklin history was overly complicated in places and wasn't of great interest to me.
I was very interested in the trek through the Northwest Passage though but it lost me here and there. In addition, the author had issues with some of his crew which was unsettling knowing they were going above and beyond to help.
I flipped to the maps so many times to get my bearings on where the ship was, where the storms were causing delays, where the searches were taking place for Franklin's tomb and other data gathering that it made me tired. But I was glad there were decent maps for showing most of the locations.
In the end I thought I would rate this book 3 stars but then I read the Epilogue and was so taken by Mark's analysis of the experience along with his philosophical views that I am giving it 4 stars. He really did some deep thinking when he sat down to describe and convey to the reader not only the details of the voyage but his thoughts about himself and how we all fit into life from a personal perspective.
I knew I would be reading this as soon as I heard about it. I enjoy Mark Synnot’s writing and have actually been following his adventures on the Polar Sun, but I also love reading about expeditions such as the Franklin one. The adventure was fun. I liked the introspection wondering if he was any different than all the other explorers who exploit the land and people. I loved the history, and I really loved the people along the journey. I’m happy where I am, but I love learning about people doing things I’ve never experienced. I was also able to check out the National Geographic issue about this expedition from my library. It has even more pictures and is a fun complement to the book.
Something that had me thinking though, was a part about a man on the Franklin expedition writing a letter to his wife telling her if they succeeded, he probably wouldn’t be home for 5-7 years. I say kudos to all the women who married those sailors/explorers and took care of home and children while they were gone. That could not have been easy.
This nonfiction book is an account of a recent sailing voyage through the Canadian arctic, called the northwest passage, which is essentially a shortcut between the Atlantic and Pacific oceans. Mark Synnott’s objectives are adventure, filming to earn funding from National Geographic, and to find the grave of a 19th century British sea captain, Sir John Franklin, who got shipwrecked and all his men starved or frozen. Synnott’s account of his own voyage is pretty interesting, as is whole subject of the Canadian north, with it’s maze of icy waters and islands. It’s dangerous now, and much more dangerous 175 years ago. But literally half the book is about Franklin; where’s his grave, where’s this, where did the doomed men walk to and die? Blah blah blah. Apparently the fate of the Franklin voyage is a Canadian obsession. Here’s what happened. Everybody died. Sorry to rant about royal screw up John Franklin. Aside from that there is good stuff in this book about the arctic natural environment and native Inuit culture. Mixed review.
This book was very engaging at points and hard for me to follow at others. It was easier for me to follow the modern timeline voyage and understand that, than the Franklin chapters. The bouncing between years and viewpoints was a little confusing for me. Trying to picture the locations and keep track of where things were located without a map was essentially impossible for me, so maps might be a helpful addition for this book.
I enjoyed learning about the Artic and the native people survival skills and how the European expeditions didn't learn that as much as they maybe ought to. Additionally, the facts of climate change and the impact that has on livelihoods of people still living in remote places was disheartening but interesting.
Would recommend this book if you already have an interest in the Artic, otherwise might be good to start with something else.
Mark Synnott decided in 2022 that he wanted to get extremely into sailing, so much so that he essentially moved onto his boat and set a goal to sail through the Northwest Passage, something only a few hundred boats have ever done. Along the way, he wanted to solve the long-standing mystery of what happened to the 19th century explorer, John Franklin, whose expedition disappeared 175 years ago.
This is in the same vein as another of Mark's books, The Third Pole, in which he goes to Everest to solve the mystery of whether George Mallory and Sandy Irvine summited Mt. Everest before Sir Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay. Spoiler: they don’t solve the mystery on Mt. Everest, nor is anything resolved about Franklin’s Arctic expedition. Anyhow. Good writing and fun adventures, but I don’t like these long stories wherein the author doesn’t actually solve any mysteries/questions (I didn’t like the podcast, Serial, for the same reason).