Letter 1

To Mrs. Saville, England. St. Petersburg, December eleventh, seventeen - . You’re gonna be so stoked to hear that things are going great with this whole thing you were so worried about.

I got here yesterday, and the first thing I wanted to do was let my dear sister know I’m doing well and feeling really good about how things are shaping up.

I’m way up north of London now, and walking around Petersburg, I can feel this cold northern breeze on my cheeks - it's totally invigorating and gets me hyped. Get what I mean? This breeze, coming from the direction I’m headed, gives me a little taste of those icy places.

It's seriously fueling my daydreams, making them way more intense. I cann't shake the feeling that the North Pole isn't a frozen wasteland; in my mind, it’s a place of beauty and awesome stuff.

There, Margaret, I’m gonna trust what earlier explorers said - the sun's always visible there, a huge circle just above the horizon, spreading this constant glow.

There - with your permission, sis - it’s snow and frost-free, and we could cruise across a calm sea to a land more incredible and beautiful than anything we’ve found so far. It’s got its own unique plants and landscapes, just like the stars do in those unknown places.

What could you not expect in a place with endless daylight? I might even figure out what makes the compass needle work and make a million celestial observations that just need this trip to make sense.

I'm gonna satisfy my curiosity by seeing a part of the world nobody’s ever seen before, and maybe even walk on land nobody else has touched. That's what's driving me, and it’s enough to ditch any fear of danger or even death.

I'm starting this tough journey with the same excitement a kid feels when he jumps in a little boat with his friends to explore a river back home.

But even if all that stuff turns out to be wrong, you can’t deny the huge advantage I’ll give everyone - all future generations - by finding a route near the pole to those places. Right now, it takes so many months to get there. Or, by figuring out how magnets work.

That’s only possible with a mission like this, you know?

Okay, so getting all this down has totally calmed me. I’m feeling so hyped, like I’m on top of the world, you know? Nothing chills you out like having a clear goal - something to really focus on. This whole expedition has been my dream since I was a kid.

I've devoured every story about people trying to reach the North Pacific Ocean, sailing around the pole. Remember how our awesome Uncle Thomas had a library full of books? It was basically just a bunch of stories about exploration. My schoolwork kinda took a backseat, but I was obsessed with reading.

I practically lived in those books, and it made me even sadder when I learned my dad’s last wish kept me from going to sea. Then I discovered poetry - those writers just blew my mind and took me somewhere else entirely. I even thought I could be a poet, living in my own little world.

I pictured myself right up there with Homer and Shakespeare. You know how that didn't exactly work out, and how bummed I was. But then, I inherited my cousin’s money, and suddenly, I was back to thinking about my original dream.

It's been six years since I decided to do this. I can still remember the exact moment I committed to this huge project. I started by toughening myself up. I went on a bunch of trips to the North Sea with the whale fishermen. I willingly put myself through cold, hunger, thirst, and sleep deprivation.

I often worked harder than the regular sailors during the day and spent my nights studying math, medicine, and the science stuff that would be most useful for someone going on a sea adventure. I even signed on as an under-mate on two Greenland whaling trips and totally killed it.

Seriously, I was a little proud when my captain offered me the second-in-command spot and begged me to stay, he valued my skills that much. And now, dear Margaret, don't you think I deserve to achieve something big?

My life could have been all about comfort and luxury, but I chose glory over everything money could offer. Oh, I wish someone would tell me I can do it! I'm confident, and I’m determined, but my hopes go up and down, and I often feel down.

I’m about to start a really long and tough voyage, and it's going to take all my strength. I need to lift other people’s spirits, and sometimes even my own, when they’re struggling.

This is seriously the best time to travel in Russia. They zoom across the snow in their sledges - the ride is chill, and honestly, way better than an English stagecoach, in my opinion.

It’s not super freezing if you're bundled up in furs - a look I’m already rocking, because standing on the deck is way different than sitting still for hours. You know, when no exercise makes your blood feel like it’s actually freezing.

I’m not trying to kick it on the road between St. Petersburgh and Archangel, though. I’m heading to Archangel in a couple of weeks, maybe three.

My plan is to rent a ship there - easy enough, just pay for the insurance for the owner - and hire some sailors who know what they’re doing, like the whale-fishing guys. I’m not setting sail until June, though. And when will I be back? Ugh, sis, how am I supposed to answer that?

If I nail it, it’s gonna be a long time, maybe even years, before we see each other again. If I don’t, you’ll see me pretty soon...or never. Bye, my amazing Margaret. I hope heaven sends you all the good stuff, and keeps me safe so I can thank you over and over for all your love and kindness.

Your bro, R.