Maciej Cegłowski delves deeply into a fascinating question: if scurvy was solved in 1747, why did it plague Robert Falcon Scott’s 1911 expedition to the South Pole?
… in the second half of the nineteenth century, the cure for scurvy was lost. The story of how this happened is a striking demonstration of the problem of induction, and how progress in one field of study can lead to unintended steps backward in another.
An unfortunate series of accidents conspired with advances in technology to discredit the cure for scurvy. What had been a simple dietary deficiency became a subtle and unpredictable disease that could strike without warning. Over the course of fifty years, scurvy would return to torment not just Polar explorers, but thousands of infants born into wealthy European and American homes. And it would only be through blind luck that the actual cause of scurvy would be rediscovered, and vitamin C finally isolated, in 1932.
National Geographic, 1,000 Days in the Ice. 1893, Fridtjof Nansen sets out to to reach the north pole. The plan? Build a reinforced boat, intentionally get trapped in the ice, and then sit back and enjoy the three-year ride. Didn’t quite work out, but man, bold plan. If you liked the Shackleton craze of a few years ago, you’ll dig this.
Sounds like the guy was a total stud:
Nansen was a strapping blond man, fair complected, with a frosty stare and a truculent face that seemed slightly at odds with the refinements of his intellect. Nansen stood apart from the quixotic glory hounds who characterized much of polar exploration’s golden age. Call him a Renaissance Viking: He was a gifted writer, a sought-after lecturer, a first-rate zoologist, and a prominent statesman. Fluent in at least five languages, adroit with a camera, he made beautiful maps and illustrations, kept up a voluminous scientific correspondence, and brought an element of cerebral precision to all his explorations. A contemporary German scientist said of Nansen that he “knew how to handle the microscope as well as the ice axe and skis,” and his scientific achievements were notable, including a groundbreaking paper on the nature of the central nervous system.
Pursued humanitarian work after his exploring days were over, eventually winning the Nobel Peace Prize in 1922.