At almost the same time Dr. Beeson came across the 300,000 units of serum in Anchorage, an additional 1.1 million units was located in hospitals along the west coast of the lower 48. The Alaska serum had at least a two week head start on the west coast serum in getting to Nome. The second batch would be enough to end the epidemic, saving the children of Nome and the surrounding communities.
The 1.1 million units would be collected in Seattle then wait until the next ship departed for Seward. The Alameda was out at sea and would dock in Seattle on January 31st. Then it would take between six and seven days to reach Seward. The serum would travel by railroad north to Nenana.
Governor Bone would again have to make a decision between the tried and true delivery method of sled dog mail service or the new but unproven airship. Weather and conditions were a challenge for both and time was important.
Gunner Kaasen arrived in Nome early on February 2nd with the first batch of serum. Dr. Welch brought the serum to a warm room in the hospital for thawing. Before noon the serum was ready for use. Within four days, 100,000 of the 300,000 units of serum had been administered to those who were either sick or showing symptoms. With new cases developing, the remaining supply of serum would soon be exhausted! More serum was needed, sooner than later.
The second batch of serum departed Seattle for Seward by ship and was expected to arrive in Nenana by railroad on February 8th. If the serum was then shipped to Nome via the regular mail route, it could take twenty-five days. On the other hand, the first batch of serum had made it to Nome in under six days thanks to a relay of 20 drivers and teams.
As fear of the diphtheria spreading further grew, opinions were shifting toward delivery by airmail. After a new case was confirmed with potential for spreading the disease beyond Nome, even Dr. Welch’s thoughts were swinging toward a speedier delivery.
In the meantime, pilot Roy Darling and navigator Ralph Mackie went to get the plane ready. To test its worthiness for the rescue mission, Darling and Mackie fired up the engine and taxied the plane down the main street of Fairbanks. While the plane never left the ground, this test run built confidence in the feasibility of an airplane rescue.
So as the serum headed to Nenana by train, Welch suggested that half of the 1.1 million units go by airplane and the other half go by dog team to the final destination of Nome. Local health officials were in agreement so 550,000 units would be delivered to Nenana and placed in the hands of the mail carriers, the other half would go further up the line to Fairbanks and given to the pilots. Still, the one man to hold out on splitting the delivery was Governor Bone.
Preparations were being made for both methods of transport. More dog teams and drivers were being called up for a second relay. In Fairbanks, mechanics put skies on the Anchorage and tuned up the motor. A multitude of spare engine parts and a prop were stowed in the airplane along with sleeping bags, rifles, snowshoes, camping equipment and basic food supplies.
Fires were prepared along the route to guide the flyers and a runway was planned out on the ice of the Bering Sea outside of Nome. Be it mushers or pilots, planning and preparation was underway. The day before the second batch of serum arrived in Nenana, Governor Bone grudgingly gave consent to send half the serum to Fairbanks for delivery by plane.
With the serum arriving soon, Darling and Mackey, wearing every warm piece of clothing imaginable, climbed into the plane to start the engine. On that Sunday, the temperature was nearly 40 degrees below zero. As the prop was spun, the engine sprung to life but it would not idle down. As the engine roared, Darling and Mackie felt the effects of the cold in their hands and feet. The problem was a broken radiator shutter.
The flight was called off until the next day and mechanics went to work. On the same day with half of the serum entrusted to him, the first driver A.C. Olin departed Nenana for Tolovana on the second serum relay.
The shutter was replaced and on Monday Darling and Mackie once again climbed aboard the Anchorage. Anti-freeze had yet to be invented so alcohol and glycerin were added to the water in radiators to prevent freezing. Even so, the water in the radiator was frozen so again the air rescue was delayed. On Tuesday, the pilots tried again but with more mechanical difficulties, they didn’t leave the ground.
The air rescue was called off. The greatest advocate of using the airplane was the editor of the Fairbanks News Miner, William “Wrong Font” Thompson. He had worked tirelessly to locate a pilot and promote the air rescue. But after the third attempt to get off the ground failed, Thompson accepted the rule of baseball – with three strikes, you’re out.
The Salisbury cousins included Thompson’s evening editorial in the Cruelest Miles. “We believe in the airship and we believe in the dog. We know that even an ordinary airship can make 60 miles an hour and we know that a dog cannot. Where the dog has it over the airship is that the dog . . . knows nothing about horizons, visibilities, temperatures, gasoline – all he knows is to obey his master’s voice and marche. The burden of proof is today on the airship. The dogs are running and every hour getting closer to the goal. The airship will go when it can, but the dog goes whether he can or not. We take our hat off to THE DOG.”
Many of the mail carriers from the first relay also took part in the second relay which left Nenana on Sunday February 8th. They made their way through heavy snow storms with drivers breaking trail ahead of their dogs. Braving a blizzard to cover the last 90 miles, Ed Rohn delivered the second batch of serum to Nome on Sunday, February 15th. A week later, the quarantine was lifted.
As the airplane and snowmachine took over as preferred methods of travel within Alaska, the sled dog population diminished drastically. That bothered Joe Redington, Sr. immensely. He once said, “When I went out to the villages in the late 1950’s where there were beautiful dogs once, a snow machine was sitting in front of a house and no dogs. It wasn’t good. I didn’t like that. I’ve seen snow machines breakdown and fellows freeze to death out there in the wilderness. But dogs will always keep you warm and they’ll always get you there.”
So, with two goals in mind, bringing the sled dog back to Alaska and gaining recognition for the old Iditarod Trail Joe promoted the Iditarod. Creating a race that featured the Alaskan husky which ran over the old Iditarod Trail, accomplished his goals. The sled dog is back and the trail has been designated as a national historic trail.
