Nansen's Fram is a Passivhaus, renewable, mass timber precedent

It was so far ahead of its time that it is still ahead of our time.

Dr. Wolfgang Feist closed the recent International Passive House conference with a history of the Passive House movement and included Dr. Fritjof Nansen’s “Fram” as a Passive House precedent, quoting from Nansen’s book, “Farthest North.” I collect books about polar exploration, and have a copy of this book, which devotes much of the first volume to explaining how the Fram was designed, and how the crew lived in it. It’s a great story.

Nansen was already famous for the first crossing of Greenland in 1888, so he was able to raise funds for what others called "an illogical scheme of self-destruction"- since it was known that the Arctic ice drifted, he planned to build a ship strong enough to get stuck in the ice, and then "to make our way into the current on that side of the Pole where it flows northward, and by its help to penetrate into those regions which all who have hitherto worked against [the current] have sought in vain to reach."

It was almost a given that Arctic missions involved extreme cold, malnutrition, discomfort, and often scurvy. Ships were often crushed in the ice. Naval architect Colin Archer (the son of Scottish immigrants to Norway) designed Fram to be as small as possible (more likely to pop up in the ice) but still accommodate a dozen men for up to five years. Nansen writes, “and thus she was built more attention being paid to making her a safe and warm stronghold, while drifting in the ice, than to endowing her with speed or good sailing qualities.”

We are discussing Passive House principles, but I often talk about my beloved mass timber. Nansen and Archer built the frame of the ship from oak that had been grown to curved shapes for the Norwegian Navy before it switched to steel 30 years before. For the exterior:

“The outside planking consists of three layers. The inner one is oak, 3 inches thick,... outside this another oak sheathing, 4 inches thick fastened through with bolts, and outside these comes the iceskin of greenheart..at the waterline it is 6 inches thick, gradually diminishing towards the bottom to 3 inches.”

This was in fact, a kind of sacrificial layer of wood:

“It is fastened with nails and jagged bolts, and not with through bolts, so that if the ice had stripped off the whole of the ice sheathing the hull of the ship would not have suffered much damage. The total thickness of the ship’s sides is therefore from 24 to 28 inches of solid, watertight wood.”

Nansen understood heat flow and moisture management better than a lot of builders and architects today. It had insulation:

“The sides of the ship were lined with tarred felt, then came a space with cork padding, next a deal panelling, then a thick layer of felt, next air-tight linoleum, and last of all an inner panelling. To form the floor of the saloon, cork padding, 6 or 7 inches thick, was laid on the deck planks on this a thick wooden floor, and above all linoleum.”

It had air-tightness:

“The ceiling, floors and walls were covered with several thick coatings of non-conducting material, the surface layer, in touch with the heat of the cabin, consisting of air-tight linoleum, to prevent the warm, damp air from penetrating to the other side and depositing moisture, which would soon turn to ice.”

Like Passive House designers today, he understood the importance of triple-glazing:

“The skylight, which was most exposed to the cold, was protected by three panes of glass, one within the other, and in various other ways.”

It all worked very well.

“One of the greatest difficulties of live on board ship with former Arctic expeditions had to contend with was that moisture collecting on the cold outside walls either froze at once or ran down in streams into the berths and onto the floor. Thus it was not unusual to find the mattresses converted more or less solid masses of ice. We, however, by these arrangements entirely avoided such an unpleasant state of things, and when the fire was lighted in the saloon there was not a trace of moisture on the walls, even in the sleeping cabins.”

Nansen knew that they were going to be stuck inside this ship for close to eight months at a time while it drifted with the ice. It had to be comfortable, had to keep them warm and dry in all that time. Humans (and cooking) put out a lot of moisture; if a building or a boat isn’t well sealed and insulated, then it can become a disaster in short order. The Fram worked perfectly and like a Passive House, barely needed heating:

Whether the thermometer stands at 22° above zero or at 22° below it, we have no fire in the stove. The ventilation is excellent, especially since we rigged up the air sail, which sends a whole winter‘s cold in through the ventilator; yet in spite of this we sit here warm and comfortable, with only a lamp burning. I am thinking of having the stove removed altogether; it is only in the way.

So we have advances in wood construction, Passive House levels of insulation and air-tightness, and it even has renewable energy.

“It may be mentioned as an improvement on former expeditions that the Fram was furnished with an electric light installation . The dynamo was to be driven by the engine when we were under steam; while the intention was to drive it partly by means of the wind, partly by hand power during our sojourn in the ice. For this purpose, we took a windmill with us, and also a “horse-mill” to be worked by ourselves. I had anticipated that the latter might have been useful in giving us exercise in the long polar night. We found, however, that there were plenty of other things to do, and we never used it; on the other hand, the windmill proved extremely serviceable.”

Anyone who has read the horror stories about Arctic exploration, about Scott, Franklin or Mawson knows of hardship, cold, disease and death. Nansen is embarrassed by how well it all works:

“I am almost ashamed of the life we lead with none of those darkly painted sufferings of the long winter night, which are indispensable to a properly exciting Arctic expedition. We shall have nothing to write about when we get home. I may say the same of my comrades, and I have said of myself. They all look healthy, fat, and in good condition; none of the traditional, pale, hollow faces, no low spirits. Anyone hearing the laughter that goes on in the saloon would be in no doubt about this, but how indeed should there be any illness with the best of food of every kind, as much of it as we want, constant varieties so that even the most fastidious cannot tire of it, good shelter, good clothing, good ventilation.”

Nansen did not reach the North Pole, but he did get farthest north. Fram went on to greater glory; Nansen lent it to Roald Amundsen, who sailed it to Antarctica and was the first to reach the South Pole. It is now on view in a museum in Oslo. Nansen went on to win a Nobel Prize for his humanitarian work.

But there are so many lessons to be learned from this mission and from Nansen and the Fram- it is essentially a floating Passive House designed for the climate and the icebound environment, with wind-powered lighting and a treadmill generator to keep everyone fit, and supplied with enough resources to survive anything. This is so far ahead of its time that it is still ahead of our time.