The Cussed McClure Gene

My mother’s stubborn and challenging behaviour is becoming somewhat of a trial, today was worse than usual. Then I saw this engraving in her hall and thought of course, it’s the cussed McClure gene.

Sir Robert John Le Mesurier McClure, (born Jan. 28, 1807, County Wexford, Ire.—died Oct. 17, 1873, London), was my mother’s great, great, uncle. An Arctic explorer, he is heralded with discovering the fabled ‘North West Passage’ - a route for ships round the frozen north of Canada and a short cut to China.

The official history depicts him as a hero, being ‘lost’ for two years with his ship, the Investigator, stuck in pack ice and spending a further two years there before returning safely to England.

The reality was probably quite different.

In 1850 Captain Richard Collinson commanding the Enterprise and Robert McClure aboard the Investigator formed one of the many expeditions that went looking for Franklin - an earlier Arctic explorer lost in 1820 - approaching the search from the Pacific or west coast of Canada. The two vessels sailed south, rounding Cape Horn, and if separated, a rendezvous in Honolulu had been arranged.
He arrived there first. If anything like my mum, I can imagine him saying “I’ll give them 5 minutes, then we’re off” He actually left after 5 days – the same day the Enterprise arrived.

McClure passed through the Bering Strait and discovered (and named) Prince of Wales Strait (between Banks Island and Victoria Island). It was here that the Investigator became frozen in for the winter and he went on an overland expedition across Banks Island to a high vantage point on the north coast and could clearly see Melville Island and the frozen waters of Melville Sound -reached by Parry on his westward Journey in 1820. At last, the North-West Passage had been found, if not sailed through. It was 26 October 1850. He decided to attempt a navigation of the Passage when the ice receded - but it never did.

By spring 1852 the crew were suffering from malnutrition and scurvy and McClure was convinced many of them would not make it through a third winter.

Back home in England, with now news of either of the ships, HMS Resolute set sail to search for them, sailing to the north of Canada and approaching from the east.
When help finally arrived in the form of Lieutenant Bedford Pim, who walked over the ice from the Resolute, McClure denied he needed any help or to be rescued, saying everything was fine and he was simply waiting for the summer. This ploy was due to the fact that had he been ‘rescued’ he would not be entitled to the significant sum of money that had been put up for the Captain and crew of the ship that made the discovery.

Initially he refused all offer of help, but evenyually, four years after setting off, he and the remaining survivors of his crew made it back to England.

It makes me smile in the days of instant communication that, back then, they waited 2 years before sending a search party.

Today mum said 4 things that must result from that stubborn McClure gene:

“Me? Lost? No I thought I’d go a different way”

“Me? need help? I’d rather die than ask you to help me”

“I wasn’t going to let you know that you’d had a good idea.”

“I’ll say sorry, but you know I don’t mean it.”


At least I can see into the future as well as the past !!