OTTAWA - A CAPITAL WAY TO START THE JOURNEY

Marine Archaeologist's wetsuit

In all our wildest dreams we never thought we would have the chance to sail the North West Passage through the Canadian Arctic.

Several years ago, and by complete chance, we attended a presentation at our local civic centre given by a marine archaeologist for Parks Canada who happened to be visiting relatives in Qualicum Beach.  Encouraged to share his experiences in the recent discovery of HMS Erebus, one of Sir John Franklin’s expedition ships, Ryan Harris apparently felt no one would be that interested.  He was mistaken.  It seemed like half the town turned out for the event.

HMS Erebus's Bell

We had read much about the search for a northern route to Asia and the trials of the many explorers who had set out in search of a North West Passage, including the attempts to discover what had happened to Franklin's Expedition which had set out from England in 1845.  HMS Erebus was finally discovered in 2014 and HMS Terror located in 2016, however all the circumstances around the disappearance of vessels and crew remains a bit of a mystery.

We were fascinated and found an expedition voyage that traced part of the route of the Franklin ships.  Starting in Greenland at Kangerlussuaq our journey would begin down one of the world’s longest fiords, Sondre Stromfjord, entering the Davis Strait and calling in at two other Greenland communities, Sisimiut and Illulissat, before crossing Baffin Bay to Pond Inlet on Baffin Island in the Canadian Territory of Nunavut.  From Pond Inlet the voyage continued through Lancaster Sound, North West Passage territory, and on to Beechey Island, the site where Franklin and his men spent their first winter in the ice before disappearing. 

We simply had to go!

In preparation for what would be an epic journey we began our trip in Ottawa, taking the opportunity to visit a special Franklin exhibit at the Museum of History.  The exhibit was well done with some artifacts retrieved from HMS Erebus on display, including the ship’s bell and part of the wheel.  A marine archaeologist’s wet suit was also on display, its weight surprising.  Ryan Harris and his colleagues must be made of stern stuff.  

Welcome to Greenland - nothing to declare!

Our flight to Kangerlussuaq involved a refuelling stop in Kangipsujuaq in Northern Quebec.  A bumpy ride down, the pilot banked the 737 steeply in order to land the aircraft on the short runway.  The second leg of the flight took us through bright skies and fluffy clouds.  We flew over Sondre Stromfjord into Kangerlussuaq Airport, turquoise water below us eye catching against the snow crested mountain tops.

MV Akademik Sergey Vavilov - adventures ahoy

Greenland immigration formalities were somewhat folksy.  As we stepped out of the aircraft onto the tarmac an official stamped passports with flourish on his thigh.  Then it was on to a dusty bus for the short ride along a gravel road to the port.  The facility essentially a couple of weathered wood frame buildings and a hodge podge of well-used fishing boats.

Zodiacs arrive on shore

Anchored in the bay we caught our first sighting of MV Akademik Sergey Vavilov, crewed by Russian nationals and an international One Ocean expedition team.  A flotilla of zodiacs made their way to shore and after donning the essential personal flotation device we departed in groups of ten to the gangway.

The mud room

Heavy weather clothing and boots for all

We can’t say enough about the professionalism and knowledge of the expedition team and their attention to our safety.  We knew from the outset we were going to be in very good hands for this groundbreaking adventure.

We settled into our comfortable cabin, conveniently located "beyond the mudroom, but before the gift shop" along with two other cabins.  Our neighbours, hailing from Sydney and San Francisco proved to be great companions in our self titled “Tri-Nations Enclave”.

Let the adventure begin!

SEAL AND WHALE MEAT, ESKIMO ROLLS AND A TOWN FOR SLED DOGS - WELCOME TO SISIMIUT, GREENLAND

Sisimiut's Harbour

Until you have witnessed “Eskimo Rolling” your respect for upper body strength is totally underappreciated. Greenlandic kayakers in their traditionally built kayaks and tapered paddles have elevated their skill to an Olympic sport.

As we surveyed the colourful buildings overlooking Sisimiut’s active fishing harbour, with fresh seal meat, whale and char for sale on the dock, a lone kayaker made his way from shore towards us positioned out on Vavilov’s decks.

We had been watching Russian crew members taking some time off with fishing lines in the water. They were having some success.  

A Filipino cook was in hysterics at his catch – an oversized starfish was unhooked and returned to its home. His Russian companions didn’t show the same emotion, continuing with the exercise of removing the catch, attaching new bait and returning the line to the water.  A good haul for that night’s fresh delicacy in the crew dining room.

The kayaker now had our attention.  

After some warming up exercises he wowed the crowd of onlookers with a series of rolls demonstrating how the paddle controls the manoeuvres.  

This went on for quite some time and we were incredibly impressed with this man’s stamina and skill – and not surprised to learn that this gentleman was a former kayak champion.

Cabin 332

Ashore we had an enjoyable walking tour through town with a young Greenlandic woman who described life in Greenland’s second largest town. She told us about “dog town” where sled dogs are kept because their constant howling makes them unwanted residents in town.  She explained that with the changing climate there isn’t as much work for the dogs as there used to be.  However she and her sister have raised several sled teams and are responsible for the care of 40 dogs, as well as babysitting their relatives’ dogs.  No small task.

Back on board Vavilov, safety and orientation briefings for the coming adventure continued from the international expedition team.  We were surprised to learn that the majority of the 88 guests on board were Canadian with a large contingent from the West Coast. However our Tri-Nations Enclave of three cabins "beyond the Mud Room" provided a good international balance with lots of laughs, particularly over the establishment of the "Suds-R-Us" laundry. 

ICEBERG SUPERHIGHWAY

Daybreak in Disko Bay

We awoke to the early morning light dancing on our porthole windows.  Taking a look through our circular view on the outside world, icebergs were the order of the day.

Climbing the steep stairways to the upper decks we stood amazed at the unfolding landscape which was bathed in a pink and orange glow. The reflections were spectacular as gentle waves caught the morning light on sculpted chunks of glacial ice.

Early morning zodiac ride

Humpacks breach amongst the icebergs

We had arrived in Disko Bay and the community of Ilulissat, Greenland.  The Jacobshavn Icefjord, a UNESCO World Heritage site, disgorges large icebergs out into Disko Bay. The glacier that produces these stunning offspring is the most productive in the Northern Hemisphere, flowing at a rate of about 100 feet a day and resulting in around 20 billion tons of ice passing out into the fjord every year.  

Now and again the icebergs that break away from the glacier are so large they are too tall to float down the fjord and lie stuck on the ocean floor, sometimes for years, until they are eventually broken up from the force of the glacier. It creates an unusual and surreal landscape.

A zodiac ride from Vavilov into the icefield was the highlight of the morning.  Icebergs bobbed in the water, their shapes, geometric and irregular, some delicately etched like fine crystal.  We were surrounded!  It was absolutely beautiful.  Seabirds rested on these icy perches, their high pitched screeching piercing the air.

The icefield had created its own acoustics and it was as though we were in an ancient cathedral. Occasionally there would be a loud crack and then a tell tale whoosh as an iceberg calved, the falling remnants of ice flooding the sea below and sending large ripples of water outward.

Looking down over Jacobshavn Icefjord

As if this was not enough to amaze, a number of humpback whales surfaced, their blowholes sending forceful bursts of water skyward.  The humpbacks communicated with one another as they arced and dove playfully, flashing a magnificent tail or two as they disappeared below the surface. 

On our journey to shore we witnessed another unusual sight.  A large iceberg was in the process of calving and cracking loudly, and then it started to roll from one side to the other.   Our zodiac leader instructed us to grab the rope line that encircled the craft and kneel in its centre if the glacier split apart.  Luckily the danger passed.

Ilulissat’s harbour is attractive, filled with colourful fishing boats and overlooked by pretty wood framed houses high up on the cliffside. A short bus ride out to the Jacobshavn Icefjord and a walk along a winding boardwalk across the tundra took us to the head of the fjord and a spectacular icefield that stretched as far as the eye could see.  A lone arctic fox trotted across the ice flow, likely in search of its next meal.

Who says you can't BBQ in the Arctic?

Back on board Vavilov we were treated to an outdoor barbeque with all the fixings.  Strains of Pink Floyd’s “Wish you were here” played in the background.  How appropriate. 

Humpback swims in unison
with Vavilov

As we wound down from a simply spectacular day in the Arctic there were several more surprises in store.  On the starboard side of the Bow a humpback swam with the ship for a while, keeping just below the surface.  

Looking down, the massive creature’s body was clearly visible as it swam effortlessly with Vavilov.

Wow, wow, wow!

And then, as if we hadn't seen enough gorgeous icebergs that day, a massive piece of ice etched and sculpted with so many shapes and hollowed out arches appeared on the horizon.  It glistened in the late afternoon sun, its base turquoise as waves lapped around the waterline.

As we approached, the Captain kindly navigated (carefully) around this piece of perfection so that we could view it on all sides.  Occasionally there would be a loud crack and showers of ice cascaded in unison into the water.

And then silence returned to this mysterious Arctic world.

 

SIX WEEKS OF SUMMER

At the far northern tip of Baffin Island we had reached the remote Inuit community of Pond Inlet.

The sail in through a broad channel marks the entrance to the North West Passage. 

The views on either side spectacular with glaciers sweeping down to the ocean, snow capped peaks and growlers of all shapes and sizes floating in the water, many providing land for a multitude of seabirds.

Today was our first wet landing which required us to step into the water from the zodiac as it reached the sandy beaches of Pond Inlet.

An elder dressed in a traditional seal skin costume welcomed us. 

The outfit was remarkable in its design. 

As well as providing protection from the cold weather, a large hood at the back not only provides head protection but also coverage for a child being carried in a papoose or a backpack.

A young Parks Canada guide underscored the reality of life in the North.

It only starts to warm up in July and the snows return in September along with the prospect of long, dark winter months ahead. 

A visit to the local Coop reminded us of the cost of the family grocery bill.  Watermelons have been known to reach $70.

The community was generous in its welcome to us southerners, putting on an enjoyable cultural show with demonstrations of Inuit sports, traditional flame keeping, throat singing, dancing and an emotional rendition of “O Canada” in Inuktitut.

It was a joyous end to a day in Canada’s far North.

THE BARMAN AND THE PROFESSOR

The daily visit to the chart room

We were close to 75 degrees north of latitude in a place where  the Atlantic, Pacific and Arctic oceans converge.  

Anchoring off Dundas Harbour, we continued to marvel at the sea ice, each piece uniquely shaped, many resembling intricately carved art forms. 

The experiment gets underway

On board Vavilov, Professor Christine from the University of Waterloo was about to initiate an experiment that would measure sea temperature, salt density and depth.  

and recorded for posterity

She was surprised at the interest expressed in the experiment that will form the basis of a graduate program for a group of university students next year.  Ably assisted by Dane, our Aussie bar manager, all apparently went according to plan with the necessary data collected and recorded.

The RCMP detachment flanks the shoreline

Venturing ashore we pondered on this remote place with its ancient archaeological sites of Inuit homes and burial grounds and the fact that the Royal Canadian Mounted Police had decided to establish an outpost here in the 1920s in order to assert sovereignty.  U.S. whalers and others were stretching their reach into this resource rich region. 

The constables were left with building supplies to establish their outpost and sled dogs to undertake their patrols.  Supply ships were haphazard in their arrival and often could not get through the sea ice.

It must have been a lonely, harsh existence and a poignant sight now with dilapidated buildings and remnants of daily life scattered about.  It has been determined that the outpost should be left untouched and left to return to nature.  The front door to the detachment lies on the ground and the wind whistles through the broken window frames.  Through one of the windows a snapshot of the ever present sea ice was visible.  A pretty picture framed by history.  Pretty on this sunny day but not hard to imagine the isolation that view must have embodied in the depths of winter.

On the hillside the grave markers of two fallen officers lean lopsidedly, beaten by the wind over the years.  A white picket fence encloses the graves.  The grave of a young Inuit girl lies outside the fence.  It was a touching sight and felt segregated somehow but may have had more to do with Inuit burial traditions.

The final resting place of these poor souls has the most amazing view. Today the seascape was spectacular, the sea ice creeping along the shoreline and positively sparkling in the sunlight.

Akademik Sergey Vavilov

After a glorious day hiking and exploring we made our way back to Vavilov on the zodiacs.  

The wind had whipped up the waves and it was a bit of a splashy ride.What would we do without ziplock bags for the electronics.

HOME BY THE SEA

Beechey Island, inaccessible

The previous evening we received the updated ice report.  Instead of improving conditions the wind had shifted thicker ice into our path.  It could prove an interesting morning at Beechey Island.

By way of consolation, Ted, our Inuit representative on the Expedition Team asked whether we would like to try some of his favourite foods – seal (raw and cooked), narwhal and Arctic char.  It was fascinating watching those brave souls who tackled the seal.  

I simply could not bring myself to try it although quite enjoyed the sashimi texture of the Arctic char.  Doug looked on in horror but I suspect he felt somewhat exonerated from his reluctance after sampling fermented Greenland shark in Iceland a few months earlier.

On Vavilov, Boris the Expedition leader always provides a wake-up call through the PA system thirty minutes before breakfast. This morning the call came an hour earlier than scheduled.

The message was that if we wanted to see the site where Franklin’s ships overwintered in 1845 we would need to get up to the bridge sharpish as the Captain had determined that ice conditions were too precarious to linger and we had to leave before we risked getting stuck in the ice.  We didn’t really want to follow Franklin’s path quite literally.

Beechey Island marks the spot where three crew members of that ill-fated expedition are buried and where later, Lady Jane Franklin arranged to have a commemorative stone erected in memory of her husband’s expedition.  During the course of the next thirty years various search expeditions tried to establish what had happened and the fate of HMS Erebus, HMS Terror and their crews.

A recent discovery when those three crew members’ bodies were exhumed and autopsied was that the men had suffered with tuberculosis but had died from pneumonia.  Interestingly, the lead content in their bodies was extraordinarily high.  This was attributed to the canned foods on board and the dubious canning process.

A few anxious moments on the Bridge

Looking out at Beechey Island and the packed sea ice gave us all a stark perspective of what it must have been like to try and survive there through long, harsh winter conditions.  Our wonderful historian, Dr. Katie Murray, painted a vivid picture and while we could not get ashore to investigate for ourselves, somehow we felt the spirit of the place.

Back on the bridge, the officers plotted a course through the ice.  It was not a good feeling to suddenly come to a complete stop with the ice mass surrounding the ship.  We crunched and lurched and despite not understanding the words, there was no mistaking the urgent body language between Captain, First Officer, Navigator and Helmsman. A reverse course was plotted amidst more cracking and crunching and we broke free of this particular obstacle.

Prince Leopold Island emerges
from the mist 

Shortly after a polar bear was spotted on the ice.  Big and healthy, the bear watched us and we returned the compliment.  It was bitterly cold on deck but we were transfixed.  A second bear came into view leaping between the floating ice.  Another healthy looking creature and testament to the abundant seal population.  After taking a long look at us the bear dove into the icy water.  It was a wonderful sighting.

Beginning our transit of Prince Regent Inlet we arrived off Prince Leopold Island, one of the most significant bird sanctuaries in the Canadian Arctic. Mist shrouded the cliff face and the sun was trying to blast through, creating a beautiful ethereal atmosphere.

A chilly after dinner zodiac ride to the base of the rock formations, their unusual shapes and crevices formed over time by the constant pounding from frost and ice introduced us to the thousands of Thick-Billed Murres (also known as Flying Penguins), Northern Fulmars, Iceland Gulls and black legged Kittiwakes.  

The oslaught literally blackened the sky, resting in huge numbers on the cliff face and swooping down on to the ice flows.  

We were in the midst of an incredibly loud ornithological chorus.  Miles, our “bird man” on the Expedition Team was in absolute raptures of happiness. His infectious grin positively warming the chilly evening.

KINGS OF THE ARCTIC

As Vavilov approached the next band of sea ice, a polar bear and two cubs sauntered out from behind a snow bank.  

The cubs were fairly large and looked as though they would soon be fending for themselves.

A short distance away, a larger male caught sight of a sailboat, an unusual thing to see in this part of the world.  The bear did not appear to be very happy about it.  The sailboat was the first vessel we had seen since leaving Pond Inlet and we were surprised to see such a small craft in these ice ridden waters. 

The male bear started to pick up his pace as he moved towards the sailboat.  We were concerned that the sailors might have some nasty form of deterrent in mind as they had come awfully close to the bear. 

We realized they were flying a drone, an absolute no-no.  The drone startled the bear who stopped for a moment or two, retracing his steps moving towards the mother and cubs. More concern as male bears are known to predate the young.  

Fortunately all was well today.  All the bears were so large and healthy, seals being in plentiful supply.

A few hours later we had an incredible experience further into the sea ice.  While what happened was not environmentally ethical, the outcome was one of pure wonderment for everyone on board.

Another mother and cubs revealed themselves, stretched out on the ice, their cappuccino coloured coats gleaming in the sunshine.  Vavilov was stationery and everyone watched the resting bears for quite some time.  

I suppose something had to happen.  Either the ship moved, disturbing the bears, or the bears themselves would awaken from their apparent slumber.

Everyone was surprised when one of the Bridge Officers articulated a calling sound of some kind, a seal perhaps? The trio of bears immediately stood up and trotted briskly towards Vavilov’s bow.

It was incredible to witness the power and speed at which they moved, coming to within forty feet of the ship. 

An intense staring session ensued until the mother beckoned her cubs to move away. They trotted away, jumping through pools of water, occasionally stopping to look back at us.

Rightly or wrongly it was an incredible experience.  

While the Expedition staff emphasized that disturbing wildlife is not to be tolerated it was a struggle not to be both enthralled while conflicted by the experience.

And of course the wonderful pictures that resulted from such perfect conditions – beautiful, healthy polar bears, snow white crystallized ice, deep shadows from the sun’s position and the spectacular turquoise water. Nature is beautiful.