Nobile v. Ellsworth

In one of Aesop's fables, Members accuse Belly of being a fat, lazy good-for-nothing, who does nothing but consume food. . . .*

Such philosophy occurs to pastoral gentlemen in pensive solitude. It could hardly be expected of spirited gentlemen flying over Polar wastes in an airship for 72 intense, cold hours, nor during their triumphal tour of civilization afterwards. The emotional log of the Pole-crossing dirigible Norge, which was spread out in the public prints last week, was more entertaining than surprising.

General Umberto Nobile, designer and skipper of the ship, had been touring U. S. cities to the great delight of Italo-Americans with Fascist leanings. These put on their black shirts and let their "Vivas" echo from Seattle to Manhattan. Such was Nobile's triumph, in fact, that an impression somehow crept into public prints that he had been responsible not only for handling the Norge but for her accurate navigation as well.

Out spoke Lincoln Ellsworth, sturdy comrade and financial backer of Explorer Roald Amundsen: "General Nobile . . . was retained at a salary to act as her [the Norge's] captain, in exactly the same capacity as the captain of any other ship. ... It would be extremely unfair to [Lieut.] Riiser-Larsen, who navigated the entire flight across the Polar Sea, and to [Lieuts.] Horgan and Wisting who operated the lateral and vertical controls, not to give credit for both the navigating and the steering where it is due."

General Nobile (about to leave the Ritz-Carlton in Manhattan for a fete in Pittsburgh): "As captain of the airship, every person on board depended on me during the flight. Riiser-Larsen, second in command of the airship, was appointed navigator by me. . . . During the entire flight of 71 hours I acted all the time as captain of the airship, giving orders to every one, controlling what everybody was doing."

General Nobile (still excited, in Pittsburgh): "It is so strange, I do not understand. All Ellsworth did was to give money for the flight. It was I, Nobile, who designed the Norge; it was I, Nobile, who commanded it; it was I, Nobile, who was responsible for its success. Without me the flight would have been impossible! . . . Lincoln Ellsworth was just a passenger. . . . He was a nice passenger, but that was all."

Mr. Ellsworth made a second statement, recalling how he and Amundsen had planned their Arctic continent-hunt two years ago, tried by airplane, failed, and looked about for an airship, which they found in Italy and bought, hiring her designer as captain and later including the captain--Nobile--in the title of the expedition "as a compliment to Mussolini and the Italians." Friction had begun before the ship left Rome. There was a scene when Riiser-Larsen, a big, strong, silent man, was reduced to tears by Nobile's vociferous demand for recognition and authority. "That man Nobile," Riiser-Larsen had moaned, "has more gall and conceit than I thought any civilized person would dare to show. ... I simply can't stand it."

There was a scene as the Norge approached the Pole. Amundsen and Ellsworth had found Nobile in the navigator's cabin, excitedly reminding Riiser-Larsen that "I am captain of the ship." There had been feeling between the Norwegian and Italian members of the crew that arose from purely temperamental differences and even from the minor annoyance of Nobile's fox-terrier bitch, Titina, who often occupied one of the only two chairs in the gondola. There had been a scene at Nome when Nobile had insisted upon his right as an Italian officer to send reports of the flight to II Duce and the world in general. Amundsen had stepped up and shaken a finger in Nobile's agitated face: "You are nothing but the captain. ... I want you to know we will have no more of this." Nobile had sent his despatches anyway-- Amundsen had quarrelled with the Nome Nugget's editor over printing Nobile's account without its being checked--etc. etc.

General Nobile (lunching with bankers on Long Island, about to go home and be embraced by Mussolini, given a gold medal and a whole fleet of dirigibles to command): "I cannot continue this dispute while I am receiving such delightful hospitality ... I shall not say anything more until I have left the country."

Boarding the S. S. Conte Biancamano, Nobile, resplendent in his white uniform, refused to pose for photographers until brought his Titina by an attendant who had been separated from him by milling mobs of Italians and detained by ignorant police. "I am sorry to leave America," he then said, strik- ing an attitude beside his swart friend, Rudolph Valentino, "and I am glad to be going home."

Quizzical folk wondered what would be the condition of Lincoln Ellsworth, Umberto Nobile and Roald Amundsen 19 years hence. It was 19 years ago that Walter Wellman attempted to reach the North Pole in a balloon. He was forced back to Spitzbergen, but tried again in 1909, when his bag exploded. In 1910 he set off to float to Europe from Atlantic City, but his bag fell, off Halifax. In 1894 he had tried to reach the Pole with dog and sledge, being halted only 200 miles short of success. . . . Last week, Walter Wellman occupied a jail cell in Brooklyn, charged with contempt of court for disregarding a summons in an action by one Andrew K. Reynolds of Washington, D. C., to collect $280, an alleged debt. Mr. Wellman was released only when Banker-Explorer H. Murray Jacoby of Manhattan, an admirer, sent him a check to end what Mr. Jacoby termed a "sad spectacle."

In Leavenworth Prison, Kan., Dr. Frederick Albert Cook, mendacious near-discoverer (1908) of the North Pole, busies himself with needlework while serving a term for oil-stock fraud. . . .

*One fine day it occurred to the Members of the Body that they were doing all the work and the Belly was having all the food. So they held a meeting, and after a long discussion, decided to strike work till the Belly consented to take its proper share of the work. So for a day or two the Hands refused to take the food, the Mouth refused to receive it, an and the Teeth had no work to do. But after a day or two the Members began to find that they themselves were not in a very active condition: the Hands could hardly move, and the Mouth was all parched and dry, while the Legs were unable to support the rest. So thus they found that even the Belly in its dull quiet way was doing necessary work for the Body, and that all must work together or the Body will go to pieces.