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.