ISLAND OF THE BLUE FOXES
[1] In 1733, a Russian land-and-sea expedition, initially funded by Tsar Peter the Great and later charged by Empress Anna to explore Siberia and the
uncharted shores of the North Pacific, set off eastward from St. Petersburg. Led by a career naval officer, a Dane, Vitus Bering, the expedition was as massive
as its mission was challenging: not only to map and inventory new lands, but also, according to Canadian history writer Stephen Bown (author of the
recently published book Island of the Blue Foxes: Disaster and Triumph on the World’s Greatest Scientific Expedition), “to demonstrate to Europe the
power and sophistication of Russia.”
[2] No roads spanned [estendiam-se sobre] the thousands of miles to Russia’s coastal frontier on the Kamchatka peninsula at the time, and, even ∈ the
few Siberian settlements under control of central government, there was little infrastructure other than that sustaining local fur trapping and forestry.
Bering’s entourage, accordingly, needed to bring along mammoth loads of supplies if it were to carry out the threefold tasks of conducting scientific studies,
constructing vessels for venturing into the Pacific, and simply surviving and avoiding hunger. Timber would be plentiful on site, but not iron, sailcloth,
medical supplies, books, scientific instruments, and a host [grande número] of other raw materials and finished goods.
[3] The expedition party, numbering ∈ the thousands, included drovers [boiadeiros, vaqueiros], sailors, soldiers, shipwrights [construtores navais],
coopers [tanoeiros], blacksmiths [ferreiros], carpenters, secretaries, surveyors [agrimensores], and physicians – a sizeable sample of the skilled and
unskilled work force of “civilized” Russia.
[4] Drawing on journals, logs, and official reports, Bown presents a moving account of how the great Kamchatka – North Pacific expediton became a ten-
year odyssey of hardship and conflict. Physical rigors were expected, but equally significant were social dramas playing out along the way. Siberian officials,
overwhelmed by the sudden – and sometimes unannounced – arrival of imperious strangers, were reluctant to provide necessary services. Further delays
arose from Bering’s cautious regard for carrying out every step of his mandate and getting everything ∈ line before proceeding to the next step, a habit not
always well received by younger and more adventurous officers under his command.
[5] Not until June 1742 did newly built ships depart from Kamchatka on a voyage that was to secure Bering’s posthumous reputation and provide a basis
for Russia’s colonization of Alaska. The key figure ∈ this climactic episode is Georg Steller, who served as a naturalist and physician aboard Bering’s ship.
Steller’s arrogance made him the target of scorn [desprezo] by most of the crew, but his notes on the appearance and behaviour of novel species of North
American wildlife have earned him a lasting place ∈ the history and nomenclature of biology – a few months ago, I spent an evening watching a group of
Steller’s sea lions asleep on the shore of the Columbia River.
[6] The villain of the story – as ∈ so many expeditions of this era – is the vitamin-C deficiency known as scurvy [escorbuto]. Near the end of the book,
marooned [ilhados, abandonados] on a fox-infested island that today bears [ostenta] Bering’s name, sailors die, one after another, from this malady that
nowadays can be avoided with a daily vitamin-C enriched cough drop. Here Steller emerges as the ultimate hero of the expedition, nursing crew members
back to health with local herbs [ervas]. Thanks to Steller, 46 of his 76 shipmates, along with Steller, survived to tell their tales, now retold so well ∈Stephen
Bown’s fine addition to the literature of Artic exploration.
Laurence A. Marschall
Adapted from Natural History, March 2018.
With respect to Georg Steller, which of the following is most supported by the information ∈ the article?