Maybe this is just me, but whenever I heard about the lost Franklin expedition and Finding The Northwest Passage, I always had the impression that it was actually there to find. Like it was a definite thing they'd somehow misplaced. Not that they were just hurling themselves against ice and scurvy and lead poisoning and zinc deficiency for something that wasn't even there and had no plausible reason to be there.
But yeah. The closest we will come to a viable commercial shipping lane in those waters is in the 21st century, because of anthropogenic climate change melting the ice. And that's bad actually. The idea that there'd be a nice wide thawed bit in the middle of the Arctic ice, just because it would be really useful for colonial business interests if there were, is utterly bananas when you stop and think. Why. Why would there be. Well, God and Providence, I guess.
I am also torn because the song is a banger and it's beautiful and it's stuck in my head and the writer died tragically young in circumstances that show safety regulations are written in blood. And he also wrote Mary Ellen Carter. But for fuck's sake Stan, these explorers weren't going across an empty and untamed land. People were already living there. People who'd figured out how *not* to die from mineral deficiencies.
These are very normal 8am thoughts that are also had by people who weren't raised on folk music I'm sure.




















