“Arctic, 1923. Ada Blackjack, alone. The four explorers never returned from the ice. Her sick teammate died weeks ago. Just her, cat Vic, and -50°F cold. She’d never fired a gun before. Now she hunted seals to survive. A polar bear charged. She grabbed a knife, screamed until it fled. Her hands froze – she sewed mittens from tent scraps. Vic curled against her each night. Two years passed. Rescue ship arrived. Captain gasped: ‘The men?’ ‘Gone. I stayed for my son.’ She returned home. Men got credit. Her name forgotten. Until now. Mothers survive anything. Follow for more.”
In 1921, Ada Blackjack—a shy, 23-year-old Iñupiat woman from Alaska—joined an Arctic expedition to Wrangel Island, north of Siberia. She wasn’t a scientist or explorer. She was hired as a seamstress, hoping to earn enough money to care for her ailing son. The crew included four men, all inexperienced and underprepared. The mission was ill-conceived: they aimed to claim the island for Britain, despite no official backing.
Conditions quickly deteriorated. Supplies ran low. The men left to seek help across the ice and never returned. One teammate, sick and bedridden, died in Ada’s care. Suddenly, she was alone—just her and a cat named Vic, facing -50°F temperatures, isolation, and predators.
Ada had never fired a gun. But she taught herself to hunt seals. She faced down a polar bear with nothing but a knife and her voice. Her hands froze, so she stitched mittens from tent scraps. She rationed food, kept a journal, and prayed. Vic curled beside her each night, her only companion.
For nearly two years, Ada endured. When the rescue ship finally arrived in 1923, the captain asked, “The men?” She replied, “Gone. I stayed for my son.”
Back home, the men were memorialized. Ada was ignored. Some accused her of cowardice. Others dismissed her survival as luck. But history has begun to correct itself. Today, Ada Blackjack is recognized as one of the most remarkable survivalists of the 20th century—a woman who endured the Arctic not for glory, but for love.
Her story is a testament to maternal strength, resilience, and quiet courage. She didn’t conquer the Arctic. She outlasted it.