Heavy, low-lying clouds developed as N25 approached 82 degrees north latitude. Riiser-Larsen hoped to fly below the haze to conserve fuel. At 120 mph, the plane threaded a course through what seemed a forest of icebergs laced with wisps of fog. Clouds, fog and ice blended into a treacherous and indiscernible expanse. The pilot was finally forced to climb above the thick quilting to avoid the ice outcrops.

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Hour after hour sped by as N25 clawed its way to safety. Amundsen continuously checked the fuel reserves, noting that the gasoline supply would soon run dangerously low. ‘Suddenly,’ the Norwegian recalled, ‘a big, heavy fog-cloud tore itself away and rose slowly, disclosing a high glittering hilltop. There was scarcely any doubt. It must be Spitsbergen.’

Although N25 was buffeted by strong winds, Riiser-Larsen eased the flying boat toward the choppy waters of Hinlopen Strait. The rest of the crew retreated toward the tail of N25 to allow the nose to lift as high as possible. Waves slammed against the duralumin hull as the plane set down. The pilot, drenched in his open cockpit, fought the controls in the heavy sea. By 8 p.m. on June 16, N25 finally cruised into the relatively calm waters of a small shoal bay.

Like children, the aviators leapt onto the rocks after securing their plane. After a brief meal, they began to gather driftwood for a fire. Riiser-Larsen suddenly straightened as he scanned the horizon.

‘There is a ship!’ he cried.

A small Norwegian seal-hunting cutter sailed across the face of the bay, seemingly oblivious to the anchored plane. With barely a word, the explorers scrambled back aboard N25 and restarted the engines. In moments, they had taxied across the water and eased close to the sealer Sjoliv. Startled sailors gazed in disbelief at the Dornier-Wal bobbing on the waves. The famished men boarded the vessel and were greeted with coffee, cooked seal meat and egg pancakes.

Nils Wollen, Sjoliv’s captain, reported that rescue ships had plied the seas for weeks in a vain attempt to find the missing aviators. He agreed to tow N25 to King’s Bay. At first the towing went smoothly, but as the night wore on the winds increased and Wollen was forced to anchor in a protected cove. By 11 a.m. on June 17, gale force winds aborted any further attempt at towing the Dornier-Wal. A safe anchorage for the plane was found in Brandy Bay, and by 8 p.m., Sjoliv and its cargo of survivors was finally on the two-day journey to King’s Bay.

The ice in the bay had long since melted, and tiny blue flowers now colored the surrounding hills. Hobby was anchored at quayside, but Amundsen and his companions were surprised to see the Norwegian Coast Guard vessel Heimdahl also secured there. A pair of Hansa-Brandenburg W33 seaplanes rode the bay’s calm waters as well. The ship and the planes had been scouring the polar regions in search of them.

The population of King’s Bay poured onto the docks to welcome the lost aviators. A band struck up the Norwegian national anthem amidst a flurry of toasts and handshakes. Telegraphers at the coaling station and aboard Heimdahl began to tap out the joyful news, and photographs were snapped. The explorers found the clothing they had left behind at the beginning of their expedition was now too large for their emaciated frames.

By June 25, N25 was safely recovered and stored aboard a transport ship for the voyage to Norway. Amundsen, Ellsworth and crew boarded Heimdahl. Four days later they neared Tromso Sound, where they were welcomed by Norwegian cruise ships packed with jubilant crowds. Outside Kristians and, four naval Hansa-Brandenburgs circled overhead in salute. At the Norwegian naval base at Horten they received another ovation.

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