The noon ice chart showed us what we’d all been keeping our fingers crossed for; in the past 12 hours the lead we’d been keeping our eyes on had opened considerably and there was no denying it was time to go! We traveled south about fifty miles and are now on the hook in False Straight. Amazing how a small hop like this can have the topography and landscape change so much. Where we were, on Pandora Island was rolling, beautiful and almost meadow-like. We’re now anchored in a stony bay that seems more like Ireland.
At midnight last night we had a stunning sunset, something we haven’t seen in quite a while, all cameras were out and mouths agape. The orange and reds of the western horizon were bouncing off the cliffs to our east, amazing. Last night’s ice charts again showed that the lead has opened up even a bit more so today we’re going try and add another fifty or so miles of southing. There is still ice in the Sound and at times we have to pick and plot our way through it, but with six sets of active eyes it’s, so far, been very manageable. During our trip down yesterday we had the extreme pleasure of being entertained by a remarkably curious polar bear on one of the ice flows. This guy was amazing in that he literally struck every pose going; he was completely oblivious to us. He stood up on his hind legs, he pawed the air, he sat on his haunches and scratched his belly, he crouched as though he was going to spring, he hopped from ice sheet to ice sheet and finally after scratching behind his ear he lay down and curled up to go to sleep. So, with one eye on the ice charts, one eye on the wildlife and another on the road ahead, the trip of a lifetime continues.
On a personal note; it’s been brought to my attention that from time to time these blogs are sounding a bit negative. Rest assured that’s the very last feeling I want to put across. The majesty and scope of this this trip has been constantly leaving me for a lack of a adequate words to express how not only stunned I am by the natural beauty of it but how blessed I feel that I’m actually doing it. Perhaps my stab at tongue-in-cheek comments have missed the mark, I’ll keep on eye on that. Rest assured though that, as I’ve written several times before, the adventure continues and all of us eagerly reach for it!
Still in Young Bay, waiting for the ice to melt (grass to grow? paint to dry?). We downloaded ice charts last night as well as this morning and the difference we saw was quite remarkable; the central area of The Passage seems to be breaking up before our eyes. We had a good breeze from the SE last night and unless the satellites were wrong, this breeze seemed to open the skinniest of leads, a great first step. For now we’ll sit tight and see how it all develops. Last night Chaunce, Clinton and Sefton went ashore to poke around and see what was what. The landscape has flattened out considerably around here allowing one to see for miles in most every direction. They came back saying that they hadn’t seen as much as a field mouse. Today Dominique, Chauncey and I took a quick walk on the shore. Last night’s tide had washed away the previous group’s footprints and in their place we found these fresh polar bear prints. They might have not seen anything, but it’s our concern that something might have seen them. Suffice it to say we never go ashore without guns.
The plan was to get to Resolute, pick up our part sent by Niad, do some light provisioning and find the crew unrestricted internet access. Someone forgot to let Mother Nature in on our plan. We first encountered the ice sheets and fog about 2:00 in the afternoon and as the day rolled on they became heavier and more permanent. The wind had been blowing out of the east for the past few days and was forecast to do the same through the 10th, allowing any ice in the general area that wasn’t permanently nailed down to head back toward Resolute. At 8:00 p.m. we arrived about two miles off the harbor entrance and try as we may couldn’t find a lead or opening in. (We did happen to see this guy though – see attached picture shot by Greg DeAscentis- who was pretty entertaining). It was our collective and sober reasoning that even had we found an opening there was no knowing how much ice, if any, would be blown into the harbor itself and how long it could trap us there… or worse.
Around 9:30 p.m. we pointed the boat south down Peel Sound where we currently sit on anchor in a small cove on the west side of Somerset Island. The good news is that this gets us closer Cambridge Bay where we plan to refuel and have the Niad part sent; the bad news is that the central ice (about 50 miles away) still hasn’t broken up and as of right now it’s impossible to get there. For the first time since we left Newport I’m starting to explore the grim scenario of the ice simply not opening up this year. Having said that I have to admit that this thinking is a bit premature and we’re still a bit early to enter. Also, there’re no indications that this year will be any less likely to open than last year, but nonetheless the thought adds to the myriad of other nagging ones (don’t ask) that swirl around my addled brain at 2:00 in the morning.
First Polar Bear siting. Day one in Canada's Northwest Passage
During our first day traveling into The Passage we 1.) Were escorted by six Orca, 2.) Watched four polar bear on shore (maybe two cubs) and at 5:00 a.m. local have just dropped the hook on the south coast of Devon Island in Blanley Bay at the foot of an amazingly active and vocal glacier. The temps are in the high 30s, the wind and seas are flat and I’m heading to bed. Tomorrow Beechy Island, the site of the first two graves found from the doomed Franklin Expedition of 1850. As I’ve said before and will most probably say many times again, I’ve no adequate words for all of this but will break out the thesaurus tomorrow.
