Open Passage Expedition
Blue Sky Network is a proud sponsor of the Open Passage Expedition whose mission is to draw awareness to global warming issues and the impact as warmer temperatures force Arctic communities and the wildlife around them to change their habits to survive.
Equipped with BSN's D2000 GPS tracking solution and an Iridium 9555 satellite phone, the 40-foot sailing yacht Silent Sound has embarked on a voyage through Canada's Northwest Passage. The goal of this carbon-neutral expedition is to use written word, video and photos to tell the story of how climate change is affecting Arctic communities. With only four crew members and limited time before the winter ice returns, the Open Passage Expedition is undertaking a grueling voyage of modern day adventure and discovery, and you can be a part of it by following the team right here.
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Open Passage Expedition
Finally, some news
Sat, 27 Nov 2010 16:58:54 +0800It’s more than one year ago that Silent Sound arrived in Halifax after having sailed the Northwest Passage. It’s been a very busy year, and I’m able to bring you some news on the Open Passage Expedition.
Silent Sound has been sold to a Montreal-based sailor who plans to take her north once again. He is planning various upgrades, and then hopes to sail her on the Labrador and Greenland coasts.
I have completed the first draft of the book telling the story of the expedition. I have just signed on with the New York-based literary agency WM Clark Associates (wmclark.com), who will now work on selling my manuscript to a publisher. It has taken much longer than I thought it would to sell the manuscript, partially due to the prolonged economic crisis in North America. I am very relieved to put the manuscript into professional hands and am hopeful it will be published internationally.
The documentary is still up in the air and I’m in talks with various parties on the documentary. The planning is mostly led by a production agency I’ve partnered with here in Hong Kong. The most likely outcome is a one-hour TV documentary and a film festival version. I’m hopeful that the documentary will be done by the time the Arctic opens for another sailing season.
I was very pleased to be elected as a full international member of the Explorers Club (explorers.org) earlier this year. The membership recognises the work put into the expedition, both from an adventure aspect as well as the journalistic work.
Cameron
On the fringes of COP15
Mon, 14 Dec 2009 12:00:00 +0800Adventurers Day at the WWF tent has come and gone, and it was very interesting to meet some of the big names in the polar expedition world. Ola Skinnarmo, who sailed the Northeast Passage as we sailed the Northwest Passage, Pen Hadow, leader of Catlin Arctic Survey, dog sledder Will Steger and photographer Steven Kazlowski all shared the stage. I was very pleased with how my two talks went, people seemed interested and it led to a few new contacts.
But what is far more interesting is the circus around the conference, and the perceptions of what counts as progress. First off, the Copenhagen police…I do sympathize with them a bit, as they’re flooded with angry university students from all around the globe and the world is watching their every move as they try to handle the situation. The arrests on Saturday were unfortunate and poorly handled, but not as unfortunate as the assholes that started breaking windows during the protest march. Talk about sabotaging your own message before it can even hit the airwaves. It’s put the cops in a pretty defensive and aggressive mood it seems. I witnessed a girl get pepper sprayed yesterday as she was crossing the street near a protest/mass arrest site. We were a good 150m from the actual action and she was simply walking across the street near the cop vans holding a small flag. A cop came striding forward and unloaded his pepper spray in her face…a bit of an extreme act I thought.
The activists have taken over a large cultural/recreation center where they are staging Klima Forum 09, where climate change activists from around the globe can strut their stuff, hand out heaps and reams of magazines and flyers and eat lots of banana cake. And they spend all day long patting each other on the back and preaching to the converted. I agree with 99% of what they say…yes, water supplies are threatened in many parts of the world, yes most corporations are more interested in lining their own pockets than being responsible citizens, yes indigenous people are particularly at risk. But the way they deliver their message had me laughing at first, then embarrassed, and then finally a bit depressed. A lot of the activists appear to think they’ve arrived at summer camp for teens, and that finger painting will be their next activity after the “come up with a new chant” programme. The level of professionalism, communication and understanding of their target audience is so low you’d have to be on your belly to see it.
The people that need to be convinced to take action are those in positions of power in corporations and the government. Most average citizens agree something has to be done and want their leaders to act. But the suits don’t do chants or funny costumes. This seems to be lost on many of the activists and protestors here, and I feel bad for them that they wasted their time and money in coming to Copenhagen. You’re not going to convince government and business leaders to introduce new laws and change their businesses models using summer-camp tactics, and it’s hard to take them seriously even when you do agree with their general message. Hmm, maybe there’s a business idea there…take a raving environmental activist and teach them management speak and how to knot a tie…
Cameron
Coping with COP15
Sat, 12 Dec 2009 12:00:00 +0800Well, I’m here, so I must be saving the planet…Brad Pitt and I are mostly heading up the planet saving venture these days (see photos on our Facebook page and the artist's site bradpitt.dk). I'll tell you how it goes.
The sideshows to the actual conference are pretty interesting. They range from earnest scientists presenting the facts to artists making desperate attempts to align their crappy art with the theme of the day. And then there’s the pure showmanship… We have a polar bear ice sculpture melting in downtown Copenhagen, electric enduro (dirt bike) racing, endangered frogs ringing the official COP15 bell, mock refugee camps, the world's first ultra low-energy children’s playhouse, a novel written entirely with water on canvas, eco-friendly cars “painting” a giant CO2 on the city streets…the list goes on. And through it all walk tall, blonde and incredibly handsome Danes with poker faces and big prams. I’ve spent a big portion of my first two days here just wandering around the city centre, poking my head into doorways and tents and scratching my head trying understand it all. A few observations:
There is a lot of focus on the Arctic, which I suppose is good news for raising interest in the Open Passage Expedition. I was wandering around the city when I saw a massive Canadian flag hanging over the H&M shop…aha, the Canadian Embassy. I went up and asked if they were sponsoring, promoting or affiliated with any COP15 events…nope. I found that a bit disappointing, given that the Arctic is such a big theme, and Canada being where it is. But then perhaps I shouldn’t be too surprised…Canada was awarded a Fossil of the Day “award” on the first day of the conference by a group of NGOs. “Canada garnered today’s award for its unwavering commitment to stand firm in its inaction throughout these negotiations,” they said.
Third-hand hearsay from deeply uninformed sources here tell me an unnamed and inconsequential Canadian official was overheard saying “Our goal is to get out of here without being made responsible for what didn’t happen.”
Cameron
Thank you
Fri, 16 Oct 2009 00:42:40 +0800After all the miles, the ice, the stories and sights, this journey will be remembered most for the people we met along the way. So many complete strangers offered their help, opened their homes and became our friends. You inspired us, fed us, entertained us, gave us a place to wash our clothes and smelly bodies and opened the doors to your community. We hope to repay you by passing on your gift of hospitality to the travellers we meet in the future.
Here are some names that stand out in a crowd of generous souls. The crew of Silent Sounds says thank you to:
Troy Dunkley (Hong Kong) for creating and maintaining our spectacular web site and being there from the very start of this project
Tricia Schers (Winnipeg) for getting the media interested and making sure people heard our story
Dr Chris Pielou (Comox) for her colourful and informative blogs explaining the science behind all we saw along the way
Norman and Trudi Prelypchan (Victoria) for their meals and wheels and making Victoria our home
Adrian Blunt (Victoria) for his advice and connections on all that boat stuff
Ian and Jo Hansen (Sidney) for your inspiring us with your courage
Capt Duke Snider (Victoria) for introducing us to the professionals of the Canadian Coast Guard
Charles Pike and Joann Rickert (Sidney) for a great evening of food and shared dreams
Jordan and Judy Mills (Victoria) for the mechanical advice while you were swamped with your own preparations. Bon Voyage!
Curt, crew of Sans Souci (Dutch Harbour) for all the rides around town
Dan Richards, Frank Oxereok Jr., Ruben Ozenna (Wales) for the stories and quad ride along that windswept beach
David and Brenda Lucas (Tuktoyaktuk) for the laundry and muktuk
Joey and Margaret Carpenter (Sachs Harbour) for the braided seal innards and comfy living room
John Sr. and John John Lucas (Sachs Harbour) for the hunting stories and mountain of meat
Peter Semotiuk XNR79 (Cambridge Bay) for always being on the radio waves, offering help and support
Vicki and Jorgen Aitaok (Cambridge Bay) for the caribou, grizzly and showing us the town
Dennis and shop crew at Kitnuna (Cambridge Bay) for the advice and help in getting Silent Sound’s engine in order
Jacob and Silas Atkichok and family (Gjoa Haven) for the caribou hunt and great evening in their home
Amie Qaqasiq and his mates (Clyde River) for letting strangers use their showers
Sarah Webb (Nain) for all that free stuff that hotels normally charge for
Charley and Virtue Simms (Nain) for clean socks and a full belly
Bill and Brenda Larkin (Lark Harbour) for a hot shower and lazy day inside while it rained
Patrick Gomes-Leal (France) for the great weather advice and keeping track of us…we’ve never even met!
John Owen and Jan Evans (Halifax) for getting things ready for our arrival
Capt Mark Schrader and crew of Ocean Watch, for the friendship, the advice, letting us use your hotel rooms, and showing us how these expeditions are meant to run
Capt Thierry Fabing and crew of Baloum Gwen for the many dinners, outings and evenings we shared, the batteries, the dinghy rides and most of all your friendship at sea
Cameron wants to personally thank:
My family (Manitoba/BC), for believing I could pull this off, helping me do it, and being there to see it happen. Extra thanks to my brothers for making sure I had a boat that floated and to my Mother for her spirit
Jackie Ng (Hong Kong) for putting up with a missing boyfriend who hardly ever called or emailed. Thoughts of you kept me warm during many a dark night at sea
Hanns, Tobias and Drew for getting us through the Arctic, healthy, well fed and well documented
Jen Chan (Hong Kong) for keeping all the numbers straight and making sure the credit card didn’t melt
Torben Kristensen (Hong Kong) for the boat mechanics guide that became our bible and for reassuring me that it’s okay to put it all on the line
Doreen Steidle (Hong Kong) for your enthusiastic support and many introductions
My many friends around the globe who raised the money I didn’t have
Tobias wants to personally thank:
My family (Germany) für Eure bedingungslose Unterstützung, Briefe, Wurst und Brot
Steffi Richter (Germany) dass Du solange sehnsüchtig auf mich gewartet hast. Du warst mein Fixstern auf all den Wachen
Cameron and Hanns For your endless support to turn a landlubber into a sailor and porridge lover
Gaby Schaefer und Heinz Hollweg (Germany) für den Durchblick
Qaiyaan and Paki Matavale (Barrow) For the many burgers, stories and “50 Years Below Zero”
Michelle Blum and Rachelle Saulnier (Cambridge Bay) for a great dinner with wine and a hot shower for desert Meiner Heimat als Rückhalt
Hanns wants to personally thank:
My family (Hamburg) for their support and encouragement
Stella Nyarko (Dresden) for her understanding and for the red hat
Cameron and Tobias for not getting fed up with my poor cooking
We made it
Sat, 10 Oct 2009 23:40:08 +0800It’s not often you can say a dream has come true. Today is one of those days, and I’m savouring every moment of it. I am immensely proud of Silent Sound and her crew for completing the Northwest Passage safely, without major accident or requiring assistance. I am equally pleased with the story that has unfolded on this website through the blogs, photos and videos. We did what we set out to do. That makes me very happy and relieved.
This project has been years in the planning and over the last four gruelling months it sometimes seemed the actual journey itself would never end. The past month in particular has been difficult as we logged over 2,000 miles through rough autumn seas while already tired. Personally, it was made harder by a minor concussion and nagging illness, both hard to cope with on a small yacht on the high seas. The long ride south towards Halifax gave me time to think about what we accomplished and think about all the things we heard, saw, tasted and learned.
There is change in the Arctic, and it threatens the Inuit’s ways of hunting, their culture and their food supply. We saw only the remnants of the sea ice that normally covers the water, but this ice is core to their lives, and it is hard to over emphasis the impact of its melting. But the current changes in the Arctic are so much more complex than that. Economic development, sovereignty issues, social upheaval and the hunt for resources have once again put these fragile communities at a crossroads, and at every stop we learned more about these challenges.
Some of this story was already told here on the site, and the rest of it will be told once we sort through our mountains of images, video and notes. I have several magazine articles due and of course need to tackle writing the book as soon as I’m resettled.
The last few weeks of sailing have been rushed, as headwinds cut our time short and meant we had far less time for port calls along the eastern coast than we would have liked. We made an emergency stop at Lark Harbour on the Newfoundland coast as eastern gales swept over the Gulf of St Lawrence, but that was our only stop between Nain and Halifax. We have had strong winds for much of the time, along with rain, fog and choppy seas. We’re arriving in Halifax knackered with sacks of laundry and a soggy, dirty boat. The Gulf welcomed us a little over one week ago with gale force winds on our back and whales and dolphins in the sea. The dolphins only stayed with us for a few days, but that weather kept us company for much of the way home.
I want to thank the sailing crew for all their hard work and dedication to this expedition. Together we saw and experienced things this summer that I hope will create a bond for life. Hanns joined to take charge of the boat, and he did an excellent job of keeping her and the rest of us safe even when we had our noses in our notebooks and eyes glued to the viewfinder. His turns at unplugging the head, maintaining the engine and repairing the rigging proved his dedication not only to the success of the project but to the art of sailing.
Tobias joined the team as a landlubber and over the course of the summer became a very competent crewmember. He also became the head chef, keeping bellies full during the stormiest of crossings. His pictures made the website a work of art, and I thank him for his contribution.
Drew joined us for only one month, but he breathed fresh life into the crew and project when we were lagging after some hard miles of sailing. His humour, stunning photos and crafty galley work with wild beasts of the arctic made the Northwest Passage immeasurably more enjoyable.
Onshore, my best mate Troy was there every day, emailing us encouragement, weather, news and the odd panicked message from the Coast Guard. His countless hours designing and maintaining this site are largely responsible for the huge following we have gathered. Tricia went the extra mile to make sure I called the right reporters at the right time and Jen made sure my bills were being paid. Both of them did overtime worrying that I wouldn’t do something stupid…thanks, your concern was appreciated. Chris gave some scientific respectability to the mental wanderings of my blog writings. Thank you to all you.
Now what? I feel like I’ve driven a long road to a cliffs edge. This project has been all I’ve thought about for over a year. It has consumed me, mentally, physically, financially and socially. Just ask my friends. I can’t imagine life without having to prepare some detail for departure, to feel I’m over due to write a blog…I am very exhausted and know I need to rest before I tackle the work that is left.
Tonight its time to kick up our heels, enjoy Halifax and all the loved ones that have gathered here. During the tough planning stages I often dreamt of this day -- the party in Halifax, the relief, celebration and sense of achievement. Now it’s here. Our families and girlfriends have flown in, and I’m eager to hear what’s happened in their lives while I’ve been gone. In the coming weeks we’ll clean up Silent Sound and put her up for sale, hawk some of the gear online and fly off to our respective homes. Then we’ll have time to think about all we’ve accomplished this summer.
Cameron
Arrival in Halifax
Sat, 10 Oct 2009 08:23:55 +0800Silent Sound is expected to arrive at Bishop's Landing on the Halifax waterfront at around noon Saturday, October 10. The crew will hold a press conference at the Maritime Museum just across the street from the dock shortly after arrival.
After that, it’s all jolly celebration. Crew, family and friends will be meeting at the Red Stag Tavern at 6pm and we’ll take Halifax by storm from there:
www.redstag.ca.
1496 Lower Water Street
Suite 224, Brewery Market
Phone: 902 422 0275
Silent Sound will remain at Bishop's Landing for about one week before moving to her winter berth in Dartmouth.
Come join us for the celebration!
Silent Sound crew
Grizzly attack
Wed, 07 Oct 2009 08:27:21 +0800Back in mid-August, when we were in Cambridge Bay, a grizzly bear was bothering a summer camp near town, and the rangers had to shoot it. Surprisingly, demand for the meat wasn’t that high, so Tobias and Drew managed to negotiate for a few pounds of it. We were pleased to get a chance to try this exotic food without any guilt, as it had to be shot and was there for the taking.
We shared some of the meat with our friends from Baloum Gwen (they paid us back in Arctic Char a few weeks later) and Ocean Watch and we enjoyed ours grilled on the BBQ as steaks. Drew turned the last of it into a lovely grizzly bolognaise. We all agreed that grizzly meat is mighty tasty.
Now that bear may have come back to haunt us. Patrick, Arielle and Gilles from Baloum Gwen have been diagnosed with Trichinosis, an infection caused by parasites attacking the muscles and other tissues. Humans can get the disease by eating the meat of carnivores , and it needs to be treated or else little worms can hide in your body and surface years later – sounds like a horror movie. It may have been the grizzly bear meat…
We don’t think any of us on Silent Sound have Trichinosis, though Dr Tobias now wonders about that nagging flu I’ve had. Regardless, we will all be getting tested for it in Halifax to make sure.
The hunters we met along the way this summer were incredibly generous in sharing their caribou, seal, fish, geese, whale and bears, and we heartily enjoyed eating them. It gave us a welcome break from beans and granola bars. Even on our most recent stop in Lark Harbour, we were presented with canned moose and rabbit. We’ve been eating well, but those memories of the grizzly steaks have now turned bittersweet…
Cameron
Inside out
Tue, 06 Oct 2009 00:40:49 +0800The front yard of the average Inuit home will contain several snowmobiles, some of them working, some of them being repaired, some in a state of despair. There will also be a few quad bikes, and, if the resident works for the government or one of the town’s big companies, they will have a late model truck or SUV parked in the driveway. Mounted on a wooden stand next to their modest bungalow will be a steel tank containing diesel that slowly drips into their furnace and keeps them warm. Spread around the rest of the yard will be an array of broken toys, wooden sleds, chained dogs and the other detritus of modern northern life.
This is the home of someone who lives on the land, who relies heavily on the environment for their livelihood, culture and wellbeing. Yet they too, as do I and all my southern neighbours, abuse fossil fuels and litter their environment until it becomes uninhabitable. A summer of sailing through the US and Canadian Arctic has made me respect the Inuit and their generous, friendly communities, their easy-come-easy-go attitudes and their toughness. And it has changed my view of the Inuit and how they fit into the climate change equation. My view of them has changed from innocent victims of southern development who are waiting for the south to help them to being our partners in creating this whole mess, and hopefully our partners in solving it.
This realisation came to me at a house party in Tuktoyaktuk when a young man who loved hunting and life on the land said without reservation that Arctic oil and gas exploration was a great thing for him and his people. It meant jobs, more money and training opportunities. And in the south we’re wringing our hands over how oil exploration will ruin their pristine and romantic lives on the land.
Of course the Inuit I met said they were concerned about how this exploration could affect their hunting grounds. They see how warmer temperatures are changing the land and the wildlife around them, how pollution is finding its way to the Arctic. But exploration also can bring them direct benefits, and they want the comforts of fossil fuel and modern convenience too, even as they see its negative side effects.
Inuit sustenance and subsistence hunting lifestyles are unsustainable without outside income. I did not meet a hunter who was living solely off the land, though I was told a rare few still did exist. The cost of fuel, processed food and manufactured goods are far to high in the north for a hunter or trapper to be able to feed his family and pay for imported goods from what he can harvest from the land. The Inuit hunters I met either had a part time job to pay for the snowmobiles and quads and big-screen TV, or wage-earning children that could pay those bills. Or, as was too often the case, they were on social assistance. In the north, social assistance, or welfare, is a way of life for many people because seasonal jobs and hunting are hard pressed to meet the high cost of modern conveniences. Unfortunately, welfare support will spell the death of the Inuit culture if it continues much longer. This is a culture that needs adaptation and innovation to keep itself alive, and social assistance dulls those instincts.
It costs a lot to heat a home and run fuel-guzzling cross-country transportation. It costs a lot to hunt for the animals that are deemed a cheaper alternative to buying high-priced food at the Northern Store. The best option is for that money to come from planned, large-scale development directed locally. Organic business growth is hard in the north, where towns are small and isolated from each other. High import costs and a fragmented market make independent retail business difficult, and retail is often at the heart of small, organic business growth.
Controlled oil and gas exploration, mining and other resource-driven development starts sounding better and better all the time. That’s hard to say after a summer spent marvelling at the Arctic wilderness, but the alternative is to create a museum-like environment for the Inuit to live in, providing them with social assistance so they can do drum dances for cruise ship tourists and take rich sport hunters out to shoot at polar bear. Tourism is great, but the Arctic does not have the accessibility or variety of attractions to develop a tourism industry that can sustain its population.
So no more warm and fuzzy ideals of traditionally dressed Inuit that hunt and live exclusively off the land, removed from the modern problems of energy supply, waste management and resource greed. That doesn’t exist. Reality isn’t pristine like the igloo on the ice, it’s a bit messier and more functional -- like the front yard of a home in Cambridge Bay. But while lifestyles have changed, the Inuit still know their land better than we do, and they know better than southerners what the land and its inhabitants can tolerate in terms of disruption, exploration and exploitation.
I think we need their help.
Cameron
Halifax arrival
Sat, 03 Oct 2009 04:44:32 +0800We’ve been slowed down by the weather in the past days, but we’re still on track to make our scheduled Oct 10 arrival in Halifax. Silent Sound is expected to arrive at Bishops Landing on the Halifax waterfront at around noon Saturday. The crew will hold a press conference at the Maritime Museum just across the street from the dock shortly after arrival.
After that, it’s all jolly celebration. Crew, family and friends will be meeting at the Red Stag Tavern at 6pm and we’ll take Halifax by storm from there:
www.redstag.ca
1496 Lower Water Street
Suite 224, Brewery Market
Phone: 902 422 0275
Silent Sound will remain at Bishops Landing for about one week before moving to her winter berth in Dartmouth.
Come join us for the celebration!
Silent Sound crew
Sodding misery
Thu, 01 Oct 2009 08:20:47 +0800The last three days of sailing have been a slow, wet affair. We’ve had strong winds of between 20 and 30 knots coming from the southeast for much of the way, which means we’re beating the entire way. Add to that about 2m of oncoming seas, and our progress has been cut down to very little indeed, and every mile is made with the boat laid on its ear. Oh, and it’s foggy and rainy, which makes it much more pleasant, of course. The boat is soaking wet down below, our ‘waterproof’’ gear is sodden and boots are oozing with water. Seems we’ve been eating a lot of mac and cheese and instant soups in the past few days as cooking has been out of the question.
So we decided on a break and dropped anchor. Weather forecasts call for the wind to veer to the north on Thursday, so we’re gonna go out and try it again tomorrow. For now, we’ve dropped the hook in Domino Harbour on Island of Ponds on the south end of Labrador…there are about a dozen houses around the narrow little bay, and we’ve caught some curious people staring at this sail boat that has suddenly arrived in their front yard. The chart says there is a castle across the bay on Spotted Island, but it’s too foggy to see and that’s the unprotected shore, so the princess will have to wait. In the meantime we’re drinking coffee, drying gear and wondering why we didn’t bring any trashy Hollywood movies to watch. In the morning I’ll once again take a look at the fuel system…still leaking and there’s something plugging it, so we’ll swap filters again and see if that fixes it.
From here we’ll have to make almost a straight dash for the last 700 miles to Halifax, as we’re running out of sightseeing time. We had hoped to stop in Port Au Choix, about 200m away, but now we’ll have to see how much time we have when we get there. We’re still planning to get to Halifax at noon on October 10…hope to see you there.
Cameron
Goodbye Nain
Sun, 27 Sep 2009 02:31:08 +0800We were fed, bathed and watered by the good people of Nain. They did our laundry for us, told us stories and sang us songs. We’ve entered so many communities like this throughout this summer, where people took us in as strangers and treated us royally, and when we left it felt like we were leaving an entire town of friends behind. We’re nearing then end of our journey, and we know that there can only be a few more ports like this in our summer, making the experiences all the more valuable.
Silent Sound pulled into Nain on Tuesday afternoon. We were welcomed ashore by Harry Webb and we saw a lot of his extended family over the next few days. The Webbs are originally from Webbs Bay 50 miles north of town, a fishing family that goes back several generations in Labrador. Today, the band of brothers and one sister run the stores, the hotels, the fishing boats and the charter boats of Nain. Sarah Webb, in particular, was very kind to us. As usual we camped out at the hotel to use their phone (the only pay phone in town!) and internet connection, and before long we were being fed and given the keys to a room so we could have hot showers. Charley and Virtue Simms, who pastor one of the churches in town, also welcomed us in for tea and let us use their washing machines.
I was also surprised to find a few Mennonite missionaries from Steinbach on the dock when we arrived. Robert Dueck and Harry Wiebe and their wives were on the dock…I could hear the Manitoba Mennonite accent from below decks and came out in my underwear to investigate. Of course we played the Mennonite game and found out we know a lot of the same people…we must be getting close to home.
Nain has felt a lot different to us than the Arctic communities we’ve passed through this summer. For starters, the hills are covered with stubby, scraggly pine trees. These were the first trees we’d seen since leaving Prince Rupert, British Columbia in mid-June, and I went for a long walk in the hills yesterday, enjoying the soft moss and smell of land. Nain also has a lot of privately owned homes versus government owned homes, meaning they are maintained with some pride. This makes the whole town look a lot prettier. Several ferries a week pull into the dock, in addition to regular air services. The big Voisey's Bay nickel mine is just outside of town, and Goose Bay is only two days away by ferry. Nain also acts as the gateway to the Torngate Mountains National Park. This is real civilisation. The feeling of isolation, which hits one as desperation one moment and bliss the next, is missing here.
We were planning to leave on Friday, but then we met Matthew, who has revived drum dance performances in this town after they’d been lost for 150 years. He agreed to get his group together for a short performance if we’d stay an extra day, and that's just what we did. Last night they drummed, danced and gave us a sample of some throat singing.
So this morning we cast our lines with ears ringing, clean socks and about a 1,000 miles to go…
Cameron
Icy summer
Thu, 24 Sep 2009 00:26:01 +0800Now that we’re through the ice, save for a few big bergs floating out at sea, we can start looking back at the summer that was if you were an ice floe…
There was more sea ice in the Arctic this summer than in the past two years, contrary to early spring ice forecasts and the longer term trend of melting sea ice.
“Arctic ice is holding in there, with about 20 percent more than in 2007,” Dr Humfrey Melling, a research scientist with Canada’s Institute of Ocean Sciences, told me.
The National Snow and Ice Data Center, a US body, said ice extended just shy of 2 million square miles (5 million sq. kilometres). That is 620,000 square miles (1.6 million sq. kilometres) less than the 30-year average. But there was more ice this September than the record low set in 2007 _ about one-third of a million square miles more (2.6 million square kilometres). Last year ranked No. 2.
Ice forecasts early in the year had pointed to conditions that could match those of 2007 and 2008 when vast areas of sea ice melted, leaving the Northwest Passage open.
“Last winter there was an El Nino effect, which meant a colder winter for much of Canada, and the Arctic was very cold. This created thick ice which took longer to melt,” said Bruno Barrette, an ice expert aboard the Canadian Coast Guard icebreaker Sir Wilfred Laurier. He added that temperatures have remained below average during spring and summer. The Coast Guard invited us onboard for a lovely Sunday lunch while we were in Gjoa Haven, and the visit included an ice briefing.
A report from the Nansen Centre said that in the first half of August ice melted more slowly than during the same period in 2007 and 2008 due to a atmospheric conditions that transported ice toward the Siberian coast and discouraged the southward drift of ice from the Arctic Ocean.
“Therefore there will be no new record minimum in September 2009, but the minimum summer ice extent in 2009 will still be much lower than the 1979 to 2000 average,” the report said.
The Canadian Coast Guard was called upon to assist the sailing yacht Fiona in Peel Sound after the ice closed in on her and raised the boat clear out of the water. The German-flagged Perithia, surrounded by ice, had a polar bear walk up to the boat and try to enter the cockpit. Other boats were pushed onto the beach or had to wait for days for the ice to clear out of their way. Silent Sound was lucky…we had to change our sailing plans ,port calls and time schedule to allow for the ice, but we escaped unharmed and completed the passage as planned.
Cameron
Hooded seals
Mon, 21 Sep 2009 00:47:00 +0800In Baffin Bay, Davis Strait and points south the crew aboard Silent Sound will no doubt see harp seals (common) and, with luck, hooded seals (uncommon).
Harp seals are a bit larger than ringed seals (of which the crew has seen plenty) and have a blotchy light and dark pattern. They are the parents of the famous whitecoats, now protected from sealers, who are deserted by their mothers when about two weeks old. They eat small fish and krill, and are eaten by people (who also use their skins and fat), polar bears, and Greenland sharks.
Hooded seals are larger and are said to be very aggressive, presumably toward each other. The so-called hood is a bulge on the nose which a seal can inflate to the size of its own head, as a sign it's annoyed and about to attack. They're said to resemble elephant seals, to which they're related, but they can't move their "hoods" the way an elephant seal can move its "trunk". (I've never seen a hoodie, but I have seen plenty of elephant seals while kayaking on the Atlantic coast of Patagonia, and they're impressive.) Hoodies eat everything from mussels and starfish to herring and cod, and are eaten mainly by orcas.
Both these seals are to be found around Newfoundland at this time of the year. Perhaps they will be the last truly arctic animals of Silent Sound's journey.
Dr Chris Pielou
A bath in Brrrrevoort Harbour
Sat, 19 Sep 2009 01:17:00 +0800We’re back at sea after a quick 24hr stop in Brevoort Harbour to rest our heads, wash our arses and fix our fuel system. Brevoort is the site of an old DEW line station. The lights of the station were on, but I’m not sure it was manned. We never actually went ashore. It was a tricky anchorage…it was a very dark moonless night when we came in, there was ice floating around and rocks awash in the 4m tide. Add to that our exhaustion and the fact that our GPS position was off by a fair bit and we had to spend several hours motoring around trying to find place to put the hook. We were literally meters from the cliffs several times as the dept went from 20m to zero in a flash. In the dark, even with torches, it’s so hard to see how far away the cliffs are when you have no point of reference. We had the radar on, but the signal was mostly getting jumbled because we were so close to land.
We finally had the anchor set at around 0200hrs and got some much-needed kip. I’m pretty much recovered after my concussion, but I still find myself getting very tired and having a lot of headaches, so I was keen for a good sleep. We were up early the next morning for a long leisurely breakfast, and then Hanns and I tackled a persistent fuel leak problem while Tobbe did some cleaning and baking. We’ve been smelling diesel very strongly, but couldn’t find the leak while underway at sea. By the time we “found it” we’d changed the fuel filter and bled the entire system…much of the work was due to our own incompetence and lack of knowledge. There was much heated discussion and flipping through shop manuals with greasy hands as we had to learn about the fuel system. I think we found the leak and got it fixed…but I’m not sure. Got a clean primary filter in place at the very least. The issue with the alternator and regulator seems to have sorted itself out…the mysteries of marine electrics
By 1700hrs we were enjoying hot coffee and cake and very chilly deck showers. There was a fair bit of ice drifting around the boat, with the water temperature at 0C. Tobias reckons it’s easier to jump right in…I prefer a few bucketfuls over the head. Either way, even though we’re stark naked on the deck modesty is no issue as everything hides itself at that temperature. It helped make it more enjoyable that it was a balmy 4C outside and that we had the heater going down below.
We were up at 0400 hours today to raise the anchor and get back underway. I’ve spent most of the morning doing interviews with CBC Radio in Manitoba, CBC TV in Manitoba and CBC National TV. Odd to be on the other end of that for a change….
One of our biggest tasks at the moment is to eat all our provisions. We have heaps of food left due to all the gifts of fresh meat we were given by Inuit hunters. So we’re gorging ourselves now…trying to erase those hollows in our cheeks. Sadly, the most plentiful foods onboard are granola bars, dried beans and turkey jerky. All lovely of course…but we’ve had our fill of them by now.
Must run, Hanns is helming and wants to steer us in between two massive icebergs with seals on top, and I want to be on deck to get a close look. Watch for the video online…
Cameron
Making miles
Wed, 16 Sep 2009 23:16:51 +0800The last few days have been all about putting in some miles to the south, and we’ve been doing well at that. Sailing has been pretty good…better than we’ve had for a long time. We’ve done far more motoring than I’d hoped, so it’s nice to get some more sailing miles behind us and save our fuel. Right now we’re cutting across the mouth of Cumberland Sound, with Frobisher Bay just below us. We’re about 15-20 miles from land, so we don’t see much of the mountains, but a few days ago we were closer to the coast and it was stunning. Makes me wish we could spend more time exploring Baffin Island.
On Tuesday we celebrated crossing the Arctic Circle. The actual crossing happened during the night at around 0200hrs, and I was asleep in my bunk. Tobias made a nice pasta for lunch using some of the home canned Mennonite farmer sausage we had (thanks Lucille!) and we savoured three bottles of beer made by a brewer in Tobias’ home village in Germany.
We’ve had some beautiful clear nights in the past few days, and the stars and northern lights are pretty impressive . There’s very little moon these days, so the northern lights help us see any ice that’s around. But they don’t offer much warmth…the air temperature has been around 3-4C for the past week, and it’s not that much warmer down below. Our diesel heater acts up and smokes us out of the cabin if we try using it when there’s much wind or heel to the boat, so we’re huddled in our sleeping bags a lot. This also means that the condensation builds up in the boat and it gets pretty damp.
I’m still keeping pretty busy with constant boat repairs. Seems as soon as I get one thing working the next thing breaks…reminds me of farming as a kid. We have three bilge pumps on board, and I can only seem to get two of them working properly. Just now I started the engine for battery charging and noticed the alternator regulator doesn’t seem to be working. Must investigate…
Our next stop will likely be a short break in Brevoort Harbour, on the southern end of Baffin Island. Then we’ll cut over to Labrador and check out Hebron, on the east coast.
Cameron
We’ve sailed the Northwest Passage!
Tue, 15 Sep 2009 08:30:37 +0800Silent Sound crossed the Arctic Circle early Tuesday morning local time, marking her official transit of the Northwest Passage! We entered the Arctic via the Bering Sea two months ago to the day, and since then we’ve sailed some 3,400 nautical miles, seen a lot of ice and learned a lot about the Canadian North. We’re far from the first to make this journey, and we’re not home yet, but we do feel a real sense of accomplishment. I’m proud of how well Silent Sound has carried us through the seas and the teamwork and dedication of the sailing crew and shore crew which has brought us this far.
There are several definitions of where the Northwest Passage begins and ends, but using the Arctic Circle is certainly the most encompassing, so we’ve been holding our breath until we crossed this line. The Arctic Circle (66 30N) marks the lowest latitude at which the midnight sun is ever seen.
By far the most impressive feature of the Arctic has been its people. In every town we visited we met complete strangers who offered us help, welcomed us into their homes and provided us with hot showers and food. So many people showed genuine interest in our journey and generously told us about their lives, and we left nearly every town with a few fish or other wild game in our fridge. We are leaving a lot of new friends behind as we officially exit the Arctic.
We are passing miles of beautiful coastline that we’d love to explore, but time is tight. Each fjord and harbour looks tempting, and we’ve discussed stopping in many of them…but we need to push on. We are far from done this epic journey. Silent Sound still has some 1,800 miles to sail before reaching Halifax. We’re looking forward to the welcome from girlfriends, family and friends who are awaiting our arrival. We hope to drop anchor in Halifax on October 10.
Silent Sound is currently sailing along nicely in about 15 knots of NW breeze!!!!!!, and all is well on board. We’re still seeing the occasional iceberg, and are keeping a sharp eye out for growlers. I’ve recovered from the tap to the head I got last week during stormy conditions, and now we’re focused on ticking off the miles. We’re not sure where we’ll stop next…it depends on wind conditions.
Cameron
Medicine on board
Mon, 14 Sep 2009 21:01:39 +0800On a long journey, especially to remote areas, it is essential to be well equipped. What are the essentials? Of course for a sailing cruise you should not lack anti-seasickness medication. Plaster and painkillers amongst other small things which belong to normal first aid kit are on board with us. We are well equipped for bigger emergencies as well. For prolonged seasickness we are able to inject a potent drug iv and substitute fluids iv. For smaller and bigger trauma we can splint extremities and set broken limbs under a short narcosis. Lacerations can be sutured under local anaesthesia. If an injured crew member needs oxygen we can administer oxygen thanks to Alliance Oxygen. Patients can even be ventilated with a resuctitator and the oxygen saturation in the blood can continuously be monitored with a oxymeter (thanks to my girlfriend Steffi who organised and gave it to me for this tour. Thanks a lot!) In addition to all this our first aid kit is filled with various antibiotics, creams, strongest painkillers and a lot of love and hot tea (the latter two are essential for a quick recovery).
Doctor T.
Doc on Board
Medizin an Bord
Auf einer langen Reise, besonders fern ab der Zivilisation ist es von Nöten medizinisch gut gerüstet zu sein. Was ist wichtig an Bord zu haben? Natürlich darf auf einem Segeltörn das richtige Mittel gegen Seekrankheit nicht fehlen. Pflaster und Kopfschmerztabletten und andere kleine Dinge der normalen Hausapotheke sind bei uns an Bord. Wir sind aber auch für größere Fälle gerüstet. Wir haben die Möglichkeit bei länger andauernder Seekrankheit ein potentes Mittel zu spritzen und Flüssigkeit als Tropf zu verabreichen. Sollte es zu kleineren oder größeren Traumata kommen, können wir verschiedene Körperteile schienen und unter einer Kurznarkose dislozierte Extremitäten reponieren. Platzwunden können unter lokaler Betäubung genäht werden. Bei verunglückten Crewmitgliedern, die Sauerstoff benötigen, ist eine Sauerstoffgabe dank Alliance Oxygen per Inhalationsmaske möglich. Patienten können sogar mit einem Beatmungsbeutel beatmet werden und der Sauerstoffgehalt im Blut kann mit Hilfe eines Pulsoxymeter permanent bestimmt werden (meine Freundin Steffi hat mir beides für diese Tour organisiert und mitgegeben. Vielen Dank!) Des weiteren ist unsere Bordapotheke mit diversen Antibiotika, Salben, stärksten Schmerzmitteln und viel Liebe und heißen Tee gut ausgestattet (die letzten beiden sind in den meisten Fällen für eine schnelle Genesung unumgänglich).
Dr. T
Boardsarzt
Brain Storm
Sun, 13 Sep 2009 09:23:21 +0800We left Pond Inlet on Tuesday after spending about four days exploring the town, the nearby glaciers and the free wifi offerings in the area. Baloum Gwen was anchored nearby, and we had several farewell dinners … they are off to Greenland now while we have turned south. Pond Inlet was also the last stop for Drew Fellman. He joined us in Tuk and had to get back to LA to tackle his first IMAX film as producer. He added some fantastic images and videos to the expedition site and cooked us many fine meals out of the wild beasts he dragged home from the tundra. We miss him already.
The forecast when we left Pond Inlet on Tuesday evening was for up to 30knts of breeze along the Baffin Island coast. We got that and more … soon we were sailing in winds of up to 40knts and seas that were consistently at around 5m with some at 7 to 8m (Hanns reminds me not to exaggerate, so I won’t). It was quite a ride, and quite a job to keep the boat from going broadside to those waves. On Thursday afternoon I’d gone down below to get a bite to eat and take a break during my watch. I was sitting at the nav station when a wave slammed into our port side…that shifted me in a rather ungraceful manner from one side of the boat to the other, and I cracked my head on Silent Sound’s fine, sturdy cabinetry. The short of it is that I got a minor concussion and Hanns and Tobias brought us into port for a bit of a rest and a chance to dry out. They (I’ve been sent to bed, and the Doctor doesn’t know I’m on my computer now…) took on some fuel here, and we hope to be off later on Saturday if the good weather holds. I’ll likely leave the sailing up to them for another day or two, but I’m on the mend.
Cameron
Icebergs
Tue, 08 Sep 2009 20:07:13 +0800Now that Silent Sound has sailed Lancaster Sound and is continuing east the crew will be encountering true icebergs, as opposed to ice floes. The great difference (apart from size) is that floes are frozen sea water (almost pure because the salt is excluded in the freezing), whereas the frozen water in bergs was never salty. Berg ice began as snow fallen on land. As snow depth increased, the lowermost layers were crushed by the weight of overlying layers until those at the bottom became hard and dense. The density is not perceptibly different from that of pure ice, about 0.92 that of pure water. All the same, berg ice contains vast numbers of very tiny bubbles, air that was trapped among the flakes of the snow from which the ice originated. This explains why icebergs are white. Admittedly floes often look white too, but that's because they're usually covered by recent snowfalls. A small floe in a rough sea is quickly rinsed free of snow, and it then looks either clear or blue depending on the thickness of the ice and the brightness of the light. A chunk of berg-ice fizzes if you put it in water (or some more interesting drink).
Most of the bergs in eastern arctic waters are from the Greenland ice sheet. They used to be calved off directly into the sea from ice cliffs right at the shore. I saw scores of them in the late 1970s travelling south from Thule in NW Greenland. The bergs came from the ice cliffs around Melville Bay and southward. Now (judging from maps in Al Gore's An Inconvenient Truth), the ice has melted back several kilometres inland along the west Greenland shoreline, and the bergs in Baffin Bay and Davis Strait are ice blocks that have become separated from the ice sheet by deep crevasses and have slid down rock slopes lubricated by meltwater. I haven't been able to discover whether the net result is more or fewer bergs now than in the past – all the published info on arctic ice refers to the disappearance of summer pack ice among the islands because of global warming. The effect on icebergs is never mentioned, but you will discover it.
Dr Chris Pielou
Halifax arrival
Mon, 07 Sep 2009 09:59:18 +0800Silent Sound is still about 2,500 miles from Halifax, but it is in sight and we’ve begun planning our arrival. We’re hearing from friends and family around the globe who want to be there to welcome us ashore, so we want to share some of the details with you to make planning easier.
Silent Sound is expected to arrive in Halifax on October 9/10 unless we encounter serious storms, breakdowns or other delays. There will be a press conference and a party for family and friends when we arrive.
All media please contact Tricia Schers at tschers@gmail.com and family and friends please contact Jennifer Chan at Jennifer@openpassageexpedition.com to be kept up to date on the plans in Halifax. Jennifer needs to know how many people will be attending in order to plan the party and she can give you further details on the plans as Silent Sound nears port.
Thanks for all your support in the past months, and we look forward to seeing some of you in Halifax!
Cameron
Jelly on the rocks
Sat, 05 Sep 2009 23:41:48 +0800We’ve spent the last day sailing along the coast of Brodeur Peninsula, and we’ve marvelled at how barren the land looks. Sand, gravel and rock, all a light beige colour, carved by ice, wind and water. We were staying a healthy distance off the coast, if for no other reason than because we’re sailors and land makes us nervous. However, Dr. Chris Pielou sent us this blog entry on the jelly fish we might see if we go closer to shore...it’s tempting to risk the shallower waters.
The farther east you travel, the greater the tide range and therefore the wider the beaches. Unlike warm-climate beaches, they're lifeless. Floating ice floes are dragged up and down them by the rising and falling tide, and dragged to left and right by tidal currents. The results, as seen at low tide, are wide strips of stirred up rocks and sand that look bulldozed, with irregular ridges and grooves in all directions.
The lack of living things has one advantage: it gives you a sporting chance of spotting the Giant Arctic Jellyfish (Cyanea capillata or Cyanea arctica; take your choice, both names are used). If they swim too close to shore they become stranded, and that's always fatal. The animal is spectacular, up to 2 metres across. That's the size of one I found lying on the beach of Tanquary Fjord, northwest Ellesmere Island, 25 years ago.
It's one species of a genus of jelly fish called Lion's Mane jellies, large circular critters with quantities of long (in the arctic species up to 35 metres long), stinging tentacles hanging below. The body colour is anything from orange to dark brownish-red: the bigger and thicker the jelly, the darker the colour. Dead specimens, washed up on a beach, seem always to have had their tentacles worn away by abrasion. The much smaller temperate zone Lion's Manes are reported to sting swimmers unpleasantly, but not life-threateningly. They're numerous around southern Vancouver Island now; the granddaugher of a friend of mine was stung and was furiously indignant. Probably the stinging powers of the giant arctic form haven't been tested as nobody swims there (don't fall in!).
They are a spectacular sight to see, the world's largest known jellyfish, and worth watching for, especially now, when the populations of jellies of all kinds appear to be increasing greatly in all oceans, perhaps because of global warming.
Dr Chris Pielou
No bears out tonight
Fri, 04 Sep 2009 08:32:36 +0800Every patch of snow, lump of ice and sandy coloured rock raised my hopes. I polished the lenses on my binoculars and checked again. And again. And still, I couldn’t see a single polar bear!
We were anchored in False Strait, just north of the infamous Bellot Strait. We’d anchored for the night to time our entry into Bellot to get the best tides…important when the tides can run up to eight knots.
We were now in the heart of polar bear country. A German cruise ship told us they had seen 16 bears in the strait during one afternoon. Baloum Gwen, our French friends who were just ahead of us, reported seeing bears. We have yet to spot a polar bear this summer, and unwise bets had raised my personal interest in seeing at least one bear.
After a lazy Sunday morning (Aug 30) at anchor in False Strait we set off for Bellot. Just as we entered we saw David Crowley aboard Polar Bound, making his third transit of the passage and second aboard this boat, both solo. It’s always a pleasant surprise to see other boats in the passage given its so rare. I have David’s book on board, so I was eager to have a chat on the radio with him. He said there was less ice than he’d ever seen before, then waved goodbye and chugged his way west on his converted rescue boat. He’s on his way to Antarctica. Crazy POM.
As soon as I’d spotted Polar Bound I shouted to the crew…”We have company!” We’d been so revved up to see bears that they all assumed it was a polar bear, and they came hurtling up the companion way in a storm of elbows and camera lenses.
Drew was busy in the head, and he called through the door of the head for clarification. Tobias told him it was the Polar Bound…which to Drew’s eager ears sounded like “polar bear.” Drew is not a man to miss a good photo and he was up on deck in a surprisingly short time, looking a bit flushed and hard pressed, but clutching his usual jumble of cameras. He was clearly disappointed when he saw a small yellow ship, not a growling polar bear. A few moments later he slipped back downstairs without a word. When he returned to the deck again a few minutes later he confessed that he’d been in a bit of a rush to finish his task when he’d heard the word “bear” and thought he’d better go back to the head for a second pass. “I don’t have many clean clothes left,” he explained sheepishly.
Bellot Strait connects the Gulf of Boothia and Prince Regent Inlet with Peel Sound and Franklin Strait. It’s about 18 miles long…depends on where you start measuring. In 1852, Captain William Kennedy became the first European to sight the Bellot Strait while searching for John Franklin's lost Arctic expedition. It was named after Joseph René Bellot, who accompanied Kennedy. The strait was first crossed by the Hudson's Bay Company ship Aklavik in 1937.
Bellot was a bit less dramatic than we’d imagined, perhaps cause it was cold, rainy and foggy. We saw the bottom third of some impressive cliffs and the tide brought us up to 9.5knts on occasion. The highlight was passing Zenith Point, the most northerly point of the continent. There were only a few large floes of multiyear ice to dodge as we neared the eastern end.
We got to Fort Ross, an old trading post, and dropped anchor for the night. However, before going to sleep we had some shopping to do…Baloum Gwen sent us a message that they’d netted 17 fish in the bay and left a few for us. Drew and I took the kayak ashore and snooped around, looking over our shoulders to watch for the bears we’d been warned about. The fort consists of two old buildings, both from the 1930s. One is an old house with flowery wallpaper peeling off the walls and rooms full of rotten, broken furniture. It still felt like the old traders had just left, their stuffed chairs pulled up to the stove which still had a kettle balanced on top. However, it was bit of a grisly scene in the kitchen, with a snowy white Arctic fox laying half in and out of the oven, dead and decomposing. My mind runs wild with the possibilities of how that situation came about…
The second cabin was heavily boarded up and locked, but clearly open to the public once you started pulling the hoardings away. We went inside, and found thee fat big arctic char left by Baloum Gwen…Thank You! It’s a cozy little cabin in the middle of nowhere used by scientists, oil exploration companies and travellers. The 25 year old guest book was still far from full but contained a lot of names we recognised from recent Arctic adventuring, and the walls were covered with the graffiti of travellers keen to leave their mark. I had the urge to stay…there was a library stocked with trashy novels and a kitchen stocked with food.
After a kingly supper of barbequed fish we turned in for the night and we got off to an early start to go hiking the next day. We enjoyed a long rambling walk on the island, hopping across a small stream and scrambling up a small rocky hill. The landscape is covered in different types of mosses and lichens, but nothing more than 10cm high. It was windy and foggy, and with our expectations to run into a polar bear the landscape had a threatening edge to it. We ended the afternoon with a cold fish lunch back in the cabin before paddling back to Silent Sound and raising sail for the north.
Since then we’ve been battling strong winds and choppy seas which are coming from exactly where we want to go…making for a very slow and tiresome ride. Our next port of call will be Pond Inlet
Cameron
Seal hearts and other parts
Wed, 02 Sep 2009 19:34:54 +0800Shortly before Silent Sound set off for the Canadian Arctic last spring the region’s seal population made the headlines. The European Union banned seal products, angering Inuit hunters and artisans and prompting Canada’s governor general Michaelle Jean to skin one of the creatures and eat a piece of its heart raw to show solidarity with the Inuit.
As we’ve sailed through the Western Arctic and now the Central Arctic we’ve seen thousands of seals. In areas where we see no other wildlife we’re still certain to see a seal or two bobbing about in the water, quizzically watching us sail past. They’ve certainly livened up some tedious watches I’ve stood at the helm.
We’ve eaten seal a few different ways on this trip. Our first taste was barbequed seal ribs (watch the video on YouTube), and we’ve since tried it dried and sautéed. I don’t like it dried, but it’s tasty – like liver – when it’s cooked right. I’ve also tried on some of the mitts and boots made from seal skin. The fur is deliciously soft and warm.
They’re cute, they’re harmless, and they’re a key part of the Inuit traditional diet and culture. And there are heaps of them left. The political hijacking of their seals has come up in conversation with several Inuit, and they seem pretty united in their response. Which, in brief, is “Piss off!”
One old timer who invited me into his kitchen for tea lamented the confusion over the seal clubbing ways in parts of eastern Canada and the way he and his fellow hunters dispatch their prey. “We shoot them, we don’t club them, and if those people from down south would come up here I’d show them how we do it,” he said, nearly spilling his tea as warmed up on the issue. He also offered a few simple but drastic measures to quiet the criticism, but I’m sure he didn’t really mean.
In Holman (aka Ulukhaktok) we watched a grandmother, her daughter and toddler granddaughter flense a pile of seals caught by the men in their family. It was bloody, dirty work, and the grandmother admitted that few of the younger generation were interested in doing it. However, there was also an every day practicality about what they were doing that both showed respect to the animals and underlined the necessity of these activities in their life.
It’s odd to see so many seals along our route, both ringed seals and bearded seals, and think that elsewhere in the world, where they know little to nothing about seals, these creatures are creating such passionate debate. By coming to the Arctic this summer and weaning myself of daily news I feel I’ve missed out on the seal debate. Instead, I’m in the home of the seals, and watching how they play an integral role in the diet and life of Inuit.
Cameron
Mystic Mirages
Mon, 31 Aug 2009 02:54:34 +0800The first time I saw one I didn’t say anything to the others, I was afraid I’d get locked in the head and deposited on the nearest island as a danger to the crew. But eventually, all the crew started talking about the weird and mysterious sights on the Arctic horizon. Islands that stretched to the heaven in the shape of anvils and towering monsters. Ice floes that wobbled and jumped. Buoys that stood taller than the mountains on the shore. Mirages have since become an everyday part of our sailing life in the Arctic, and they’re always a pleasure to observe. This photo is of an ice mirage along the west coast of Victoria Island…the ice was less than half a meter high and several miles away when I took this photo.
They can make navigation tricky, as they make things appear far larger and closer than they really are. A low lying island which you expect to be 10 miles away suddenly looks like a mountainous bit of land a few miles distant. Thin ice floes can suddenly look like massive icebergs, making it hard to decide in which direction to sail when you are trying to pick your way through the sea ice.
I asked our Dr Chris Pielou, our scientific advisor, to explain them for you, and this is what she wrote:
“A rare and special form of mirage produces what's known as the Novaya Zemlya Effect, which happens when a layer of cold air is trapped between warm air above and below it, over a large area. Light rays become trapped in the layer: once in it, they are bent back upward if they enter the warmer air below, and are bent back downward if the enter the warm air above. The effect was first recorded in 1596, near the island of Novaya Zemlya in the Siberian Arctic. The image of a ship (probably somewhat distorted) appeared just above the horizon although it was known to be about 400 km away. Mini versions of the NZ effect must happen often when nobody is keeping records and comparing notes.
Another example of the effect is that the sun appears above the horizon earlier than the Nautical Almanac tells you it should. Don't blame the Almanac!”
So, if we tell you we’ve seen ice stacked a thousand miles high and mountains shaped like an hour glass don’t blame us, blame the cold air.
Cameron
Drive by shooting
Sun, 30 Aug 2009 11:45:31 +0800By 1400hrs we were aboard Jacob’s fibreglass boat and roaring out of the bay. The boat was well into the latter half of its life, with two mismatched outboards requiring their own unique series of tricks and taps to get running and into gear. Drew, Tobias and I (Hanns opted out of the hunting trip) were dressed to our eyeballs in fleece and Gore Tex, while the hunters wore a mix of track pants, flannel shirts and sneakers. Under a rough wooden covering on the bow lay a shaggy musk ox skin in case we had to wait out a storm, along with a banged up old 30.30 rifle, a steel box full of ammunition, and our own mountain of camera gear and extra clothing.
The sea was perfectly calm and skies were sunny, putting everyone into a jovial mood. But the deafening drone of the engines and frigid wind soon had us all huddled on the floor of the boat while Jacob steered, eyes streaming with tears as steered his boat into the wide-open sea. Behind him Silas peered at a hand held GPS hanging from his neck, shouting directions to his father.
After about two hours of driving Jacob throttled down the engine and began cruising along a low, rocky shoreline. A bright red snowmobile jumped out from the sand-coloured landscape. “My brother in law’s,” shouted Silas. “His chain broke, and he couldn’t find it again last winter.” Well, there it is.
Minutes later the boat veered to port as Jacob and Silas excitedly pointed at the low hills … they saw caribou where we saw sandy hills. As we came closer to shore we too saw the shapes of several caribou grazing just behind a small hill. It didn’t take long to pull the boat into a small bay, anchor it on the beach and unload gun, ammunition, cameras and granola bars. We stooped low and ran after Silas and Jacob as they crept along the beach towards the caribou. Soon they’d reached the crest of the hill and had settled in to take aim…BAM BAM BAM BAM…the barrage had commenced. They had fired off a storm of lead before the first caribou dropped, and it took a few more clips to bring down the second one. Precision hunting this was not, and we were amazed at how slow the caribou were to flee the scene. Jacob fired another clip off after the caribou as they loped off into the hills, but by then all but two of them were safe.
Jacob was laughing with open-mouthed glee. “Two tuktu!” he shouted, pointing two thick fingers to the sky. One was a fat, sturdy male, the other a slightly smaller female. He pulled out a jack-knife and began skinning the first one, starting with the legs, then slowly peeling back the hide with giant tugs. The naked caribou steamed in the afternoon chill as Silas and his father reached their arms deep under its pale skin, separating the thick hide from the flesh. They threw the hide onto the ground, fur down, creating a clean surface for the meat. Next he slit open the belly, carefully pulling out the caribou’s four stomachs and a steaming grey tangle of innards. The head was twisted off and flipped upside down, before Jacob cut out the tongue, throwing it onto the hide. Heart and liver soon joined it, and then came the kidney. Silas caught the kidney on its second bounce and carefully began pulling the outer layer of tissue off. I had a feeling I knew where this was going. Soon he had a hamburger-patty sized chunk of clean raw meat in his hand, and he took a large bite with relish. “My favourite part,” he said. He held it out to me for a bite. I hesitated…when would I next have the chance to eat a still-warm raw caribou kidney out on the Arctic tundra under clear summer skies in the company of Inuit hunters? Not likely, I thought, and I took a bite and slowly chewed the flesh, determined to fully experience the moment. It tasted like…raw meat. A bit tinny tasting as well.
Jacob, meanwhile, had been prepping his own special treat. He had cut open the stomach, exposing a mash of undigested moss and lichen that steamed and glistened in the cold air. He hacked off a fist-sized chunk of the liver, and then dipped this into the green pudding before raising his fistful of yummy treats to his mouth. “You want some?” he asked, green juices and blood dribbling from the corners of his mouth, his teeth clotted with the undigested dinner of the caribou we’d just felled. I declined, my need for anthropological exoticism satisfied. He went on to nibble at the stomach lining itself, again adding a dollop of green pudding, with his grandson taking a helping as well. Silas refrained, saying the stomach contents were not his favourite. “Tastes a bit like sour green apple,” he confided.
Once both caribou were dressed they hoisted them onto their backs and carried them back to the boat, oblivious to the blood soaking their clothes. The carcasses were wrapped back up in their skins and stowed at the bottom of the boat and we squeezed in beside them. Jacob was still crowing with delight. “Good hunt! Very good hunt!”
As we roared back towards Gjoa Haven Jacob and Silas kept a sharp eye out for seals. Again, the sea was glassy calm with islands floating on the horizon, stretched into dream like shapes by mirages. The seals didn’t have a chance of hiding on that surface, and we could spot them surfacing from hundreds of meters away. Jacob had handed me the wheel when we left the hunting spot, and soon I was stopping every half mile so he could try and get a shot at a seal. We’d coast through the water, waiting for them to surface again while he rested his rifle on the windscreen, cocked and ready. Behind him, Silas stood poised with a harpoon. The seals were luckier than the caribou, and we didn’t get close enough to any to add to our catch. As the sun dipped low and we focused on getting home the hunters hunkered down in the bottom of the boat and opened several packets of instant noodles, munching them dry as they propped their feet on the caribou carcasses.
That evening we went to their home to collect some of the meat and retell the hunting story. By the time we arrived the caribou had been cut up and stashed in their freezer, a huge steel pot of meat bubbling away on the stove. The house was full of children and grandchildren, with fat babies in diapers waddling around between tousling teenagers. Jacob presided over his family from his chair in the corner, a plate of raw kidneys, fat and other delicacies before him. The respect for each other and in particular for the elders in the room was obvious and it added to the familial setting.
It turned into one of our favourite evenings of the journey as the family served us fresh caribou, boiled and served on a large platter on the floor. Jacob’s smiling wife cut us chunks with her ulu, and we added salt and pepper before gnawing at them, the fat running down our hands. If a piece was too big and too tough, they would hand us a knife to hack off the bit we held clenched in between our teeth. Then they taught us a variety of string games and tricks and showed us all the different Inuit strongman competitions. Knuckle hop, finger pulling, high kicks, airplane. There was as much Inuktituk spoken as English, by both the children and the adults. They told us stories and jokes and teased each other amid roars of laughter. It was nearly midnight by the time we left, a big bag of caribou under our arms and our bellies full of meat and tea.
After all the social upheaval we’d seen, the kids running snot-nosed on the streets at midnight and stories of alcohol-fuelled violence, Jacob’s home felt like a refuge. It made me think that maybe the Inuit culture of family, respect for elders and traditional language had a chance of survival after all. Thank-you to the Atkichok family.
Cameron
Caribou Radio
Fri, 28 Aug 2009 09:16:20 +0800My caribou hunt began with an Arctic radio broadcast.
I walked into the local radio station in Gjoa Haven and found Jane, a small, grey-haired woman, manning the airwaves. The switchboard and mic rested on an unpainted plywood table, and above her ticked a clock set in a shiny frying pan. She was busy punching buttons and answering the phone, putting one caller after the other on air to send out birthday wishes, advertise goods for sale and ramble on about a myriad of other community concerns. They spoke mostly in Inuktituk, with a smattering of English callers. “Yea … I’ve lost one of my Ranger boots. If anyone finds it, call this number …” requested one man. His voice trailed off as a Stomping Tom Conners song picked up momentum … and then Tom developed a stutter and Jane began fishing around for a fresh CD.
I knocked on the studio door and asked if I could go on air … I wanted to go out with a hunter and I’d been told they might let me broadcast my request. The station serves as a kind of community chat room, and clearly also as a bit of a lost and found service. Taped to the station door was the key for a Honda ATV with a note; “This key was found in the hamlet office.” Most of the shows I heard were talk, with a rare song thrown in when the callers needed a break. I thumbed through the record collection as I waited for Jane to get off air. Blue Oyster Cult. Krokus. Air Supply. German Beer Drinking Songs. All great stuff for late night Arctic radio. On the wall hung a picture of Queen Elizabeth, serenely smiling down upon the DJs. The Queen hangs on many walls in the Arctic, come to think of it.
Jane wrapped up a chat with a caller and put on the next song…the speakers emitted some heavy breathing and then …”This is Britney, bitch!” before the bubble gum beats of a Britney Spears song filled the room.
Jane didn’t speak much English, but another woman in the building did, and before I knew it I was standing in front of the mic. I expected an introduction, a cue; perhaps I’d have to wait for a while. Jane gestured towards the mic … I nodded and smiled, yes, I’d speak into it when cued. “It’s on,” she told me.
“Er, ah, ok. Yea. So … My name is Cameron Dueck, and I’m on one of those sail boats you see anchored in the bay. My crew and I would like to go caribou hunting. Are there any hunters out there heading out tomorrow? Would you be willing to take three or four people along? We just want to follow along and watch. So … um, once again, my name is Cameron, I’m on the boat Silent Sound, and we monitor VHF CH16. And we’re willing to help pay for the gas if you’re willing to take us.”
I was still regaining my breath after my soliloquy when the phone began to jangle and Jane handed me the receiver. Just as I was weighing up the call-in offers, she pointed towards the door. A sun-wizened hunter stood in the doorway, also offering to take us out. In the end, it was a call from Silas that won out, his father Jacob giving him instructions in Inuktituk in the background. We agreed to check in with each other by 1000hrs the next day. First, he had to buy fuel, and the fuel station only opened at 1300hrs, but he’d see if he could cage some gas off a neighbour before then.
The next morning I went ashore bright and early … and then waited outside the Northern Store until 1000hrs to use its payphone when it opened for business. Just as I was trying to explain to Jacob who I was and what I wanted, a short heavyset woman elbowed me aside. “You wanna talk to my Dad? Won’t work on the phone. Here, I’ll talk to him.” I stood aside listening to Silas’ sister chat back and forth with her father, and finally she hung up and told me to follow her. “Better to come see my Dad, he doesn’t like the phone much.”
Jacob was waiting for me when I got to the house. He was short and powerful with giant mitts for hands and a mouth with a scattering of long, yellowed teeth. He filled any breaks in the conversation with his chortling laugh and ear to ear grin. He was in his mid-60s but still hunting regularly, and he, Silas and a grandson named Rodney would take us out. They had not found any gas, so we’d have to wait until the fuel station opened, and then we’d be off. Silas was vague about where we were headed, only that it was “about 60 miles away” and a place that promised good caribou hunting. They had planned to go on a caribou hunt later in the week, and were glad for the offer to pay for fuel in exchange for allowing a few tag alongs.
And I’ll tell you the rest of the story tomorrow …
Cameron
Bum batteries
Fri, 28 Aug 2009 00:50:04 +0800Hello, hello. We’re alive, kicking and well. Sorry for the long silence…we’ve been rather busy hunting caribou and fashioning boat parts out of odd bits of flotsam we find in the shops and sewers of Gjoa Haven.
When we arrived here our batteries were not charging, and Baloum Gwen was kind enough to give us an old set of batteries that still had some life in them. Getting them installed has been a bit of a feat due to our own ignorance (I now understand that 6V+6V=12V) and difficulty in finding all the bits to make it work. After pillaging various workshops and storerooms Hanns and I managed to hammer, drill and solder together enough battery cables to make it all work. I think …
It hasn’t been all dreary work though. We’ve been aboard the coast guard ice breaker, high jacked the local radio station , ate raw carbou kidneys minutes after the animal was felled visited the local school. More on all that later …
Right now we’re downloading ice charts and weather and getting ready to raise anchor in the morning. The ice north of us has opened considerably and we’re optimistic of making it through Bellot Strait, and from there our next main stop will likely be Pond Inlet.
Cameron
Birds and bugs
Mon, 24 Aug 2009 10:41:30 +0800Because of global warming, the insects that breed in shallow water around tundra ponds, notably mosquitos, crane flies, and midges of several kinds including nosee'ums, are tending to breed earlier. Their larvae are the food for multitudes of shore birds that breed in the arctic, such as: three plovers (lesser golden, semipalmated, and black-bellied), red phalaropes, and innumerable sanpipers e.g., white-rumped, semipalmated, Baird's, pectoral, stilt, and many more.
Global warming will almost certainly cause the insects to breed earlier. Unless the migrant shorebirds arrive earlier they will find their food supply gone: the larvae will have matured into winged adults by the time the birds get there. If the birds are programmed to migrate by the number of hours of daylight per day, they will have no reason the fly earlier, so as to match the insects' changed timetable. The birds' chicks will be at risk of starving. This year's breeding birds have already started south; their chicks will follow them, and may be, or soon will be, on their way.
The mismatch developing between the respective breeding seasons of the insects and of the birds will probably be a serious ecological consequence of global warming, so it's worth knowing about. If shore bird populations are decreasing, the mismatch is likely an important cause.
Dr Chris Pielou
Was trägt man an Bord?
Sat, 22 Aug 2009 10:40:38 +0800Meine Freunde sind fast ausschließlich Landratten, im Übrigen so wie ich vor ein paar Wochen auch. Immer mal wieder wird man gefragt, was trägst Du eigentlich an Bord? Du frierst doch immer. Also, man trägt verschiedene Dinge, aber mal der Reihenfolge nach. Wenn ich unter Deck bin trage ich meist eine Fließhose, ein unglaublich weiches T-Shirt (Spezialfaser!) und darüber eine Fließjacke, wenn es kälter ist kommt noch eine Fließjacke oben drauf (wie übrigens gerade in diesem Augenblick) und eine lange Unterhose unten drunter. Unter Deck trage ich meist meine alten Schuhe (jaja Steffi ich weiss...). Geht es dann auf zur Wache, lege ich noch eine Fließhose und mein Ölzeug an. Das ist eine wetterfeste Latzhose und eine warme wasserdichte Jacke mit sehr hohem Kragen und integrierter Sturmhaube (sehr praktisch). Über die Sturmhaube ziehe ich noch eine Mütze. Damit meine Füße nicht kalt werden, werden sie in
gefütterte Stiefel mit Fließsole eingepackt. Zum Teil trage ich Handschuhe.
Die Hände gewöhnen sich schon langsam an die Kälte. So steht man dann bei Wind und Wetter am Steuerrad. Wenn es dann noch mal richtig kalt wird, habe ich noch schöne warme Merionwolleunterwäsche. Schön gemütlich. Je nach Temperatur schlafe ich mit ohne Fließ in meinem Schlafsack. An Land werfe ich mich in Schale. Outdoorjacke mit Fließ und Outdoorhose (diesmal lasse ich die Fließhose aus), Wanderstiefel. Wie Ihr seht ist die Auswahl nicht allzu groß, aber dafür warm und sehr praktisch. Schönheit kommt von Innen ;).
Unsere Fließ- und Outdoorklamotten haben wir von einer kanadischen Firma Chlorophylle gestellt bekommen und das Ölzeug von Parasail, eine kleine Manufaktur, die aufs Detail achtet.
Tobias
Ice ahead
Fri, 21 Aug 2009 01:50:45 +0800We’re getting ready to leave Cambridge Bay in a few hours, which means we are starting the second half of our journey. The current ice conditions indicate it could be a lot tougher than the first half.
Victoria Strait and Larsen Sound still have heavy ice, with large areas of 9-10/10 ice and very little of the 3-4/10 we’d consider going through. There is a lot more ice this year than in 2007 and 2008, and that is different than what we were expecting when we left Victoria in June. Then, the early forecasts were hinting at another light year. There are also more ice bergs in the Davis Strait, which will complicate things once we turn south for home.
So far one of the five westbound boats has made it through. Fleur Astral, a French ketch skippered by Philippe Poupon, came through Cambridge Bay and they are now bound for Nome, Alaska. He had some very heavy ice coming down from Resolute, and at one point simply left the boat to drift with the pack. We can’t do that, as we have a fibreglass hull. With nine yachts attempting the passage this could be a record year for pleasure traffic if all of us make it through.
While the ice is taking a bit longer to break up than we had anticipated, we still have time. Freeze up doesn’t begin for another month. However, this means we’ll likely spend some time waiting in Gjoa Haven, alongside our good friends Ocean Watch and Baloum Gwen. A good storm would do wonders for the ice conditions right now.
Much of my time in Cambridge Bay was spent hanging upside down in the bilge repairing our engine mounts. Hanns and I did the job ourselves, with a lot of advice from Eamon, Dennis and Tom at Kitnuna Construction . They were very generous in letting us use their shop and tools. So I didn’t see as much of Cambridge Bay or meet as many of its residents as I would have liked, but the ones we did meet were very generous and helpful. Vicki, who runs the visitor centre, made all the boats feel welcome and treated us royally. I also got the chance to meet my first Arctic Mennonite in Marg Epp. She took us on a bouncy ride out of town to see the land. Drew and Tobias had more time to wander the town and meet people, so I’m keen to hear the stories of their time in Cambridge and maybe we’ll get some of them into a blog.
Having our engine mounts break near Cambridge Bay was a very lucky thing indeed, as there are few places to find tools and help when we leave here to go east. Broken engine mounts can also lead to bigger problems, such as a broken shaft, and that can mean a hole in the boat, and that can mean … you get the picture. We got off very lightly, the remounting went pretty well, and we’re relieved. I knew when we were setting out that we’d likely have some major repairs along the way, so this is all part of the experience, but I’ll be quite happy if we don’t get more experiences like it.
Cameron
So there we sat ...
Fri, 21 Aug 2009 01:49:53 +0800All the fun started as we approached Cambridge Bay on Friday morning. I admittedly had let my guard down with port only an hour away. I’d had a shower and was keen to get ashore. Then, as I was poking around down below I heard a shout from Tobias … I ran up and he pointed to the depth sounder … 2.0m … I was confused, and looked around … there was a small island to the port … "Turn starboard! ,” I yelled ... he replied that was even shallower there … bump, we went aground for a moment. I slammed it into reverse but before we could stop she’d run up on a rock good and proper.
I checked the tide … and we were on a falling tide and Simpson Rock was slowly getting drier and drier. We swung out the boom with Tobias on it, rocked the boat, reverse, forward, tried to spin her, no luck. We dropped the dingy in the water and Hanns rowed out a kedge anchor, but we were still parked. Within an hour we realised we’d be there for at least six hours until the rising tide could pick us up. This little episode came about due to a combination of bad navigational planning on my part and a lapse in concentration on at the helm and I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.
Hanns was still out in the dingy trying to place the anchor when our radio crackled to life … Inuvik Coast Guard Radio was hailing us and telling us to contact the ice breaker Sir Wilfred Laurier. Bad timing, but I wasn’t sure what was up, so we called them on the SSB. Ironically, they wanted us to check on the marker buoys coming into harbour, as they’d left them in for the winter and we were the first boat to come into port. I swear when we told the radio officer our situation I heard a chuckle and he started calling me “Skipper“ and “Captain” with distinct sarcasm. Or maybe it was just my own embarrassment. They were very gracious and offered to stand by on frequency in case we needed help.
So there we sat. Tobias and Drew got in the dinghy and rowed over to said Simpson Rock for a beach break, while I started to write some letters and bake bread. Might as well make use of the down time. It was hot and sunny, the guys on shore were taking their shirts off and playing baseball with the rocks. A big Canadian Air Force patrol plane roared past a few times and we heard him chatting with Inuvik on VHF … yes, we’re the fools that ran aground, no we don’t need help.
A guy named Colin Dickie had contacted me by email months ago and told me to look him up if we came through town. He just happened to be cruising by on his boat, out seal hunting to feed his dog team. He saw our boat and came over…and shouted out my name as he pulled up. I nearly had a heart attack, as just SEEING another human was a surprise, never mind having them know my name. Weird encounters like that seem to happen a lot out here. Colin came on board for a chat and a coffee and before zooming off in his fishing boat he told us he’d send some help out at 1600hrs if he hadn’t seen us approaching town by then.
By 1400hrs the boat was starting to float again, so we called Tobbe and Drew back from the island where they were building cairns and having a little Lord of the Flies moment. Slowly she came off the rocks, and with the genoa and engine straining we pulled her free and were back on our jolly way. Chastened and careful, we were. No damage to report.
We tied up at the dock and as always there were heaps of kids jabbering away, chucking gravel onto our deck and being pests. We tried to ignore them as we got changed down below before hitting the town. We’d heard the Elks Lodge was having a party and we planned to be there. We were down below when a little girl yelled down…”Hey, the pigs are here to see you!” Indeed, there was an off duty cop on the dock, and they’ve been very friendly and helpful to us during our whole visit. Just as we were trying to ignore the kids in the hope they’d go away, a little voice piped up “One of our friends fell off the dock and she’s gonna drown if you don’t help her.” Yea right, I thought. But the kid wouldn’t go away, and finally I went up and looked … she was standing by the boat alone, looking a bit worried, and all her friends were at the other end of the dock, looking down into the water! I ran over and there was a chubby little girl hanging onto the edge of the dock by her fingernails, shaking and kicking her legs … ”Help me, help!”, she squeaked. I grabbed her arms and pulled her back up and she ran off like a startled deer.
On Saturday I went to Kitnuna Construction to ask them about fuel and some parts for the boat. I also wanted to speak to a mechanic about some vibrations on the boat. We’d noticed a small increase in vibration about three days earlier, did an inspection of the engine mounts and thought they were fine. We reckoned it might be the prop, but wanted another opinion. I hadn’t looked at the engine mounts again since our inspection, as the vibrations hadn’t increased at all. Stupid me, again.
Eamon, an Irish mechanic working at Kitnuna, came over to the boat to take a look and he very quickly pointed out that all four of my engine mounts were broken off and that the engine had shifted back a bit since we’d inspected it last. Not a good sight. He reckoned it was just metal fatigue, and helped set me up in the shop to do the repairs. So yesterday I got one mount off, tapped it for a larger all thread pin, bored out the bushings with a drill press and found all the bits and figured out how the repairs would work. We spent all day Sunday in the engine compartment, trying to get the other mounts off, but they were solidly rusted together and we ended up having to cut them off with a mini-grinder … not a pretty sight. So tomorrow we start putting it all back together and getting the engine lined up again.
So, as you see, sailing the Northwest Passage is not all pink sunsets and muskox steaks.
Cameron
The Eternal Sunset of the Glorious Goose
Fri, 14 Aug 2009 06:32:02 +0800We all live on very odd schedules on Silent Sound. Since it never gets dark, calendar days as we know them don’t really exist and life is ordered by ongoing shifts of helming, sleeping, eating and cleaning.
I’ve taken to cooking meals at pretty odd hours and decided to tackle the two geese in our fridge at around 11pm. Like the musk ox, these were also gifts from the Lucas’ in Sachs Harbour. They were fresh and had still had little stubbles of plucked feather on the skin. I managed to squeeze them into two small pans Cameron uses for baking bread and tucked them into the oven for the night.
Up on deck, the sea, smooth as glass, reflected the brooding clouds like a prophesy in a magic mirror. The sun hung just above the horizon basting the ripples of Silent Sound with aqua-boogie disco lights. Spectral ice, of impossible shapes and hues of blue, crackled and hissed, bound for oblivion. Jupiter flamed low in the sky, bright and orange and guiding our way. We stood, those of us awake, just dumb in awe of the beauty. For hours this sunset lingered, blending into sunrise until the rich aroma of dinner wafted up from down below.
Drew
Disco Dancers on ice
Fri, 14 Aug 2009 06:30:57 +0800Back in Sach’s Harbour, while we whiled away an afternoon in the home of Joey and Margaret Carpenter watching the Yankees play Boston on satellite TV, Cameron and I took turns trying to explain the rules of baseball to Hanns. Something must have sunk in because immediately after rowing ashore at the small hamlet Ulukhatuk on Victoria Island Hanns found a baseball bat among the flotsam and starting taking practice swings. Turns out he’s a lefty. I scoured the beach for spheroid stones and pitched them in taking care not to brain our first mate and sailing master. Immediately after releasing each pitch, I’d have a moment of clarity about how stupid this game was, then spin around, duck and cover my head, praying he’d whiff at the rock and spare me a concussion.
Summer had returned to the arctic. We swapped our oil skins and deck boots for shore wear, stripped off layers and strode into town. The village was eerily quiet; a ghost town bathed in a pristine other-worldly light that made even the decayed and abandoned vehicles glow with an ethereal beauty. The only sound came from ATV’s whirring in every direction. Nobody, it appeared, walked in this town of TK people, who seemed permanently affixed to their four-wheelers like droids cruising some distant post-human outpost, sun glinting off their black helmets.
In town, a couple small kids too young to drive, Lucas and Albert, followed after us by hopping between the ice floes beached against the shore. “Can you disco?” Tobias called out. “Only disco dancers can come with us.” Lucas put his hands together and busted out a sweet locking and popping move on the ice. Albert, with a vacant, beatific gaze on a face carved from ice cream just shook his head. “OK, but if you’re gonna hang out with us,” Tobias told Albert. “You need a cool name. Albert is not cool. We shall call you Albie The Alber-tross.” Albie smiled and wobbled after us in his green rubber boots.
Team Disco Dancers broke up quickly when Lucas’s mother zoomed by on her ATV and swooped him up for dinner. Then Albie’s father rode up to take him home. His membership in our cool explorers club was slipping through his fingers and the protest was intense and universal. “I don’t want to go home!” he cried. “It’s so boring!”
Shorn of our disciples, Tobias and I took a hike – or as he preferred to call it, a romantic stroll – along the shore of King’s Bay where we were anchored. We stopped at a cemetery with recent graves made from piles of stone and garlanded with bright plastic flowers that electrified the barren hills. Some of those buried had lived long into their nineties but far too many perished before forty. “Till We Meet Again” adorned the crosses.
Back on the Silent Sound, our musk ox steaks were thoroughly thawed and marinated and ready for the grill. Cameron was cradling his forearm. “I think it might be broken,” he said. What happened? “I was playing baseball on the beach Hanns ...”
The next day was dedicated to educating the youth of today. Like in Sach’s, Silent Sound was the first yacht to visit in anyone’s memory and Cameron had been invited to the school to speak to the students about our expedition. First we visited the high school class. While there wasn’t much interest at first, at least they appreciated a break from their work. One kid, who with his long black bangs could easily pass for one of the Ramones, asked most of the questions. Here are some of them. “Do you guys smoke? Do you drink? Do you have alcohol on the boat?”
Our lecture circuit went downhill from there until the kindergarten class. Even then, we were saved by Boopy, the expedition hand puppet, which is modeled after some sort of featherless orange chicken. Albert was in this class and his street cred skyrocketed after Boopy announced to everyone that he was our official bodyguard.
Their teacher, Jean Ekpakhohak, was giving the kids lessons in INUIT LANGUAGE, which is under serious threat from the commonplace use of English. Later in the afternoon, we bumped into Jean at the beach with her daughter and granddaughters where they were flensing a pile of ringed seals. Her daughter cut off the flippers before making a long incision down the seal’s torso. She pulled off the skin with the ease of someone peeling a banana, revealing a torpedo of pinkish blubber identifiable only by the whiskers that remained at one end. Then Jean took the skin and with her wedge-shaped knife, called an ulu, scraped the fat off the skin. It’s a very delicate operation. One tiny slip with the ulu and the skin can be ruined.
We were all fascinated by the whole procedure. And Jean obliged with an eloquent speech on the importance of traditional Inuit food vs. “white man’s” food – which up in the arctic translates as overpriced junk food. For the past ten days or so, we’ve been following in the footsteps of all those presumptuous unprepared explorers before us who relied on Inuit hunters to provide their parties with fresh meat. We’ve eaten musk ox, caribou, goose, arctic char, muktuk, seal and whitefish – all gifts from people we’ve met. But we didn’t have to hunt to eat, nor to spend all that time learning how. If all that food wasn’t given to us, we’d surely be eating nothing but Cup O’ Soup and granola bars too. And once those run out who knows what’ll happen …
Drew
Rotten ice
Thu, 13 Aug 2009 04:14:00 +0800Silent Sound has spent the last few days dodging ice along the coast of Victoria Island. The Arctic may be warming up rapidly but there’s still enough ice to make the captain of fibreglass sail boat very nervous. We have spent a lot of time sailing through 20 to 30 percent ice cover since leaving Holman.
It’s a stunningly beautiful sight. The water is a deep blue, and the ice a brilliant white. As we approach the small icebergs and floes we can see the underwater ice shining a bright aqua blue … pretty but deadly. We’re also seeing a lot of seals on the ice. This morning we rudely awoke a fat bearded seal that was sunning himself on a floe, and he took off into the water with a resounding plop as we approached. Hunters have repeatedly told us that where there is ice and seals, there are polar bears, but we have yet to see one.
For the past two weeks we have been eyeing this large patch of ice blocking Dolphin and Union Strait. Much of it was solid ice until a few days ago, and even now we are having a tough time of it as we motor along the northern edge of this body of ice. However, it’s very easy to see how the ice is decaying and floes are slowly breaking apart. I get an odd autumnal sense watching the annual demise of the ice, although it’s part of the spring thaw. The floes tilt and readjust their equilibrium in the water as they melt, and that constant shifting allows them to melt in some pretty creative shapes.
Motoring through the ice is a bit of an art, we’re finding. Sometimes you can cruise along at 5 knots without a concern even if the ice is fairly near the boat. You find a clear lane, keep her running straight, and away you go. Then, the next mile, you find that you are turning 90 degrees every few meters and throttling down all the way, the ice spread around in a pattern that blocks off every lead before you can build up any speed. Silent Sound is not exactly deft in the water, she has a full keel and hydraulic steering, sot here is a LOT of spinning the wheel and muttered curses as we try to get her head around in time to avoid a crunch. We are very grateful that we put that layer of Kevlar on her bow, even if it is simply some piece of mind.
The danger this ice represents to us cannot be underestimated. We just had our engine cover off to investigate the increased vibrations we were feeling in the boat. There’s a good chance we have hit some ice with our propeller, causing it to vibrate. We have a spare propeller along, thanks to a generous donor, but changing it would be an ordeal. We don’t think we’ve had a serious hit yet, but we have had a few hard bumps that have shook the boat, and perhaps some ice got to the prop without us hearing it. We’ll investigate it further in the next few days.
But the ice is on the losing end of its war with the sun. Certainly this summer, and on the longer term as well. We are spending a lot of time up on deck enjoying the sunshine in sweaters, no oilskin jackets. That may not sound so balmy, but if you’ve been on the deck of a yacht in the Arctic seas, you’ll understand what a treat the warm sunshine is.
Cameron
Sachs Harbour
Mon, 10 Aug 2009 08:19:46 +0800We left Sachs on Friday night, and we’ve been doing a nice downwind run since, some of it goose winged, as we make our way towards Holman, on Victoria Island.
Sachs was certainly one of the more interesting stops for us on this trip. Our two-day visit produced a line I’m sure I will never hear again: “I had seal flippers at my sisters place, and I ate far too many and had a bad tummy ache when I got home. So I prefer polar bear paws. The bits are soft and chewy so we call them ju jubes!” That came from the mouth of Margaret Carpenter, who became a good friend of ours while we were in Sachs.
We were told we were the first private yacht to enter Sachs Harbour in 25 years (later someone thought they remembered a boat visiting 10-15 years ago, but they weren’t sure…) so we received a royal welcome. We arrived late at night, and within minutes there were people on the beach, driving back and forth on their quads, looking at us through binoculars. Soon a skiff came out, and they helped us find a place to sink our anchor.
By the time we headed into town the next morning there was nowhere to hide, and Joey Carpenter, the son of one of Sachs’ earliest settlers, tracked us down at the store. He invited us to his home, and we spent the rest of the day watching baseball on his giant TV while eating braided seal innards, caribou shank and fish. Drew got busy fixing Joey’s satellite dish, which involved speaking to the Bell help desk in Manila, where they couldn’t understand why the $99 coupon for a technician visit wouldn’t do us much good.
We have been overwhelmed by the generosity and hospitality of people in the North. We have been eating very, very well since crossing the Arctic Circle, and people are quick to welcome us into their homes to do laundry, take a shower, make a phone call or scam internet connection. It’s not that different than hundreds of years ago, when hapless white men came stumbling through the snow and relied on the Inuit for food!
There’s one small difference to those times. Inuit communities may live in a different place, but they do not live in a different time. That can be hard to grasp when you arrive with a stereotype in mind, along with a feeling of being off the beaten track. Joey greeted us by complimenting us on our website. “Yea, a guy that was on the beach told me your website name, he saw it on the side of your boat, so I checked it out.” We met Joey and Margaret’s grandchild via web camera (he lives in Quebec) .
But the hunters and trappers do still exist. “Animal”, a friend we made in Tuk, gave us the name of his relatives, and John Lucas Sr and John Jr were quick to take us in. We’ve heard a lot about living off the land and subsistence hunting and have struggled to figure out what that means exactly. Meeting John Sr helped us understand. He lives in a comfortable home and lives a modern life, yet all this comes from the land in one way or another. He subsists on hunting, but at a much higher level than keeping starvation at bay. He told us stories of shooting wolves and bears and guiding big game hunting tourists. “I’ve been doing this for more than 40 years and I don’t have the training to do anything else, and I don’t want to do anything else.” We also benefited from the hunting skills of him and his son … they served us a great Arctic Char chowder and then delivered a sack of frozen fish, muskox and geese to the boat before we left.
Sachs was interesting to Hanns and I in particular because of its historical role in Arctic schooner sailing. Boats such as the North Star, an old wooden sailing vessel that was tied up near us in Victoria, BC and once belonged to Joey’s father, introduced a new era in the Arctic. Trappers used these boats to get to far-flung hunting grounds and then ferry their furs and game back to the settlements. The Fox, which now lies on the beach in Sachs, was another one of the boats that helped colonize Banks Island. These were beautiful boats, even if they were work boats, and hearing about them made our arrival by sail a little bit more meaningful.
Cameron
New kid on the floe
Fri, 07 Aug 2009 00:32:26 +0800On August 1st, I flew into Tuktoyaktuk to join the Silent Sound on their journey through the Northwest Passage. I’ve now been on board for just two days and as I write this, we’re navigating through a fog-shrouded ice pack surrounding the entrance to Sachs Harbour on Banks Island. The first ice I’ve seen on the trip announced itself with an angry growl when an unseen chunk grinded against the ship’s bow.
It’s a strange thing to hop on board in the middle of the expedition. Cameron, Hanns and Tobias have been living and working together for two months now and seem remarkably settled in their lives and routines aboard our narrow rollicking cavern lurching and heaving through the ice and mist. I’ve never spent real time on a sailboat and absolutely everything is awkward and difficult for me. I’m like a child re-learning the simplest tasks for the first time. How to do dishes. How to get dressed. Even how to use the toilet. Everything requires explanation. Climbing into my bunk, a coffin-shaped slot six-feet long and two –feet high, entails wriggling in feet-first like worm (if worms had feet). I can’t find proper space for all my gear and keep forgetting little bits and pieces around the otherwise tidy space. Dressed in the heavy off-shore gear we wear out on deck, I can hardly move my arms and legs. And while at the helm, with no land in sight to guide me, I often steer the boat in circles until someone pops up from the cabin to ask if I’m on course, knowing full well the truth.
But I know it’s just a matter of days until I, too, will feel at home here. Already, my world shrinking. These three other people, who I hardly know, are now my closest friends, my only friends. The clothes that I’m wearing right now are half my wardrobe and I already have a feeling they won’t come off for weeks, if ever.
Being here is incredibly exciting for me. Over the past ten years I’ve been captivated by the history of arctic exploration, a grand, sprawling tale of heroism, tragedy, ambition and unimaginable suffering all entwined in the greatest geographical puzzle of the 19th century. Though we’ll likely see little physical evidence of that history, every bit of land we’ll visit bears the names and the scars of past explorers and their successes and deprivations. Banks Island, our current destination is where Robert McClure, on October 26th, 1850, spotted, though failed to navigate, the final piece of the puzzle, a strait that linked the known passage from east to west. For his efforts, McClure and his ship, the Investigator, spent three brutal winters iced-in at the inaptly named Mercy Harbour. His crew battled scurvy, frostbite and starvation, subsisting on meager dwindling rations. Just as hopelessness and delirium spread through the ranks, they were rescued by a sledge party from the ship Resolute, captained by Henry Kellet, whose name adorns the cape jutting out from Sachs Harbour.
Of course, those were much colder times and we’re expecting to stay at Banks Island for days, not years. Although, if all this passing ice is any indication, we may be in for an unwelcome surprise.
But we’re optimists on board the Silent Sound and today nothing can get us down. The head is now fixed and Hanns was the only one who had to use the frigid bow as a poop deck. For now I’ve been spared having to strip down in the soggy arctic chill, but I also have one more thing to learn as Cameron just stopped me to explain our new jury-rigged method of toilet flushing. I’m grateful, but just wish his demonstration took place before he used the head instead of right after.
Drew
Roy Cockney
Thu, 06 Aug 2009 22:15:18 +0800Roy Cockney is a 66-year old Inuit hunter and fisherman who lives in Tuk and has his summer camp nearby. He came by the boat a few days after we arrived to say hello, and since then we have become friends with him and had him aboard for coffee.
We’re not very good fishermen aboard the Silent Sound, so when we do “catch” a fish it often arrives gutted and wrapped in paper, or sometimes even frozen. We told Roy our usual woe-be-us tale of eating tinned tuna here in God’s own pantry, and sure enough, he offered to bring us some white fish. (Is that manipulation?) The next day he brought us five whitefish … Thanks Roy!
“You’ll get to Halifax and turn right around to come back to Tuk cause you’ll want more of my good whitefish,” he joked.
Roy makes you laugh when you see him. He’s got one tooth, a bottom tooth, and his face is normally crinkled up into an ear-to-ear grin. He introduces himself with a joke … “Yea, all the people in England, they’re all my cousins, all those Cockneys.” And he’s evangelical in his love of hunting, fishing, the Inuit lifestyle and Tuk itself.
“We had a cop here years ago, Sergeant Joe, I call him Miracle Joe. I was drinking, been drinking for 20 years. Sergeant Joe came to my place, I was drunk, but he said he’d take me to AA. So we started meeting every day and just talking about AA stuff. I got sobered up, and I’ve been sober for 20 years now. That’s why I call him Miracle Joe.”
Roy said the area continues to supply the community with a steady supply of food for those who want to hunt and fish…or you can go to the Northern Store, where 4L of milk costs $15.00.
“That Northern Store, it’s for the people that earn wages, work full time. As soon as you get one of them jobs, that’s it, you gonna be buying that expensive food at the store. They don’t have time to hunt and fish anymore.”
And when it’s out on the land that you start speaking Inupiat and seeing the strange ways of Mother Nature.
“Beluga’s will come right up to the boat and you’ll hear them speaking to you, making squeaking noises. But they’ll only do it if you have no gun or harpoon … if there’s a gun they’ll be far away. It’s as if they know.”
After spending his whole life on the land Roy has noticed a few changes recently … namely new species moving into the area.
“We’ve got beaver right here in the harbour, on the ocean side. You’d never have thought to see beaver here, but we have them, I’ve seen them,” he says.
He and others have also told us about the increase in mussels in the water. “We maybe had a few in the bay here before, but not like this. This year there’s lots and lots. Maybe the water is warmer, who knows. “
Cameron
Headache
Wed, 05 Aug 2009 21:00:23 +0800So the head is broken and we’re down to using the bucket … no one has given it a try yet.
This little surprise revealed itself at 1800 yesterday, just as I’d come off watch and was enjoying a cup of tea. Hanns, to his credit, took the lead on repairs. He had been pumping out our sewage tank when the hand pump began squirting crap … not a good sign.
We started by dragging all the sails out of the sail locker … as the sewage tank lives below our sail inventory. Then Hanns crawled into this space, which is quite a feat to watch, as Hanns is a big boy and the sail locker is a small space. On Silent Sound we call this bilge yoga … just breath deeply when the cramps start. He bravely began taking the pump apart while I started cutting up an old milk jug to catch the, uh, curds. We pulled it all apart, hauling the reeking buckets through the cabin to throw overboard. We had it all plucked apart and took a good look at the pump…it looked fine. So we reassembled it and started on the hoses … we thought there had to be a blockage downstream that was acausing a build up in pressure. We plucked apart all the hoses, emptying them of their rich treasure and ferrying it outdoors and over the side. No blockage. So, we went back to the pump.
Hanns told me some goobledy gook about the joy of suffering and how this reminded him of the masochism of French modern dance as he slithered back into his dark hole … causing me to worry and open more hatches to clear out the noxious gasses.
Tobias and Drew meanwhile had patiently been taking over our watches and helming the boat, just glad they weren’t being called to the head to help out. However, the hour was getting late, and Tobias was hungry. “Should I barbeque some fish?” he called out to the scene of the accident. Hmmm, food was the furthest thing from our mind. A little while later he asked again. “How hungry are you guys? Should I start cooking?” Actually, our hunger was rapidly abating with each passing hour, as Hanns and I became more frustrated and less cautious about plunging our fingers down dark, slimy pipes.
We finally had the pump picked apart again, and this time we gave it a proper inspection, washing it off and putting it under the lights. Aha … there was a small tear in the membrane we had missed the first time. The holding tank has been giving us trouble from the very start of the trip, so we decided we’d fix the whole problem and bypass the tank and the pump. From now on, everything from the toilet would go directly into the sea. There was one small problem with this plan … we didn’t have the extra hose or the spare parts to do this. So the cannibalization of our sewage system began, and soon we’d found a hose that would work just fine.
Around this time we started smelling a hint of barbequed fish every now and then, when the eye watering smell of our putrid work allowed. Tobias was going to cook, crap catastrophe underway or not. Drew, who had been on the boat for only a few hours since arriving from LA, was left alone on deck to steer us to safety.
We thought we were nearly done … the cannibalized bit of hose had been patched in, we had a plan in place, and we could start cleaning up and enjoy that lovely barbequed white fish. However, a quick test left us once again with an inch of seawater on the floor and a leaking joint. In the end, Hanns spent an hour scrubbing and disinfecting everything in sight and we left the hose disconnected. We’ll let it dry and then we’ll try again to seal it with some silicon goop.
And that’s how we ended up with the bucket. Isn’t yachting a glamorous sport?
Cameron
Drew and his big bag of boat
Tue, 04 Aug 2009 08:16:47 +0800Drew Fellman has arrived in Tuk to join the crew of Silent Sound for the next month or two. Not satisfied with carrying enough camera gear to sink the boat, he also brought a 2-man collapsible kayak … or maybe he brought it as a life raft. Either way, it adds to our flotilla and should be handy for getting some great shots of the boat in the ice.
Our next planned stop is Sachs Harbour. We are having some computer issues (if it ain’t the crapper, it’s the computers, it seems) that we will try to solve on Monday before leaving Tuk, and then north we go. There remains a fair bit of ice in Amundsen Gulf, so we’re doing a little touring around on the west side of the blockage while the sun does its work. We hope to get through to Cambridge Bay in the next week or so.
We’re all fuelled and watered and bought our $72 worth of veggies, which is enough to make a salad for three people. Food is grossly expensive here, but thankfully we still have plenty of rice and beans and granola.
Tuk, like so many of the other places we have been, has been about the people we’ve met and the stories they have told us. David and Brenda have helped us out a lot in town, letting us do our laundry at their house, inviting us to parties, giving us a tour, and on Sunday night they invited us over for a traditional meal. We had dried whale meat, muktuk (the skin and blubber of the beluga), dried fish, caribou soup and bannock bread. It was fantastic, and we’ll have a video of the experience up on the site shortly.
I’ll tell you more about one of the characters of in my next blog.
Cameron
Tuktoyaktuk
Mon, 03 Aug 2009 16:49:59 +0800We pulled into Tuk just before midnight on Thursday night. After a rousing welcome party with the crew from Baloum Gwen we slept until midday Saturday before starting all the chores involved in a port call. We got our fuel onboard, did some provisioning, sent off the first raft of emails and got the laundry done.
Tuk has about 900 people, and it’s a bit of a transport hub for this part of the Arctic. As always , we’ve encountered so many interesting, kind and helpful people that we wonder why we don’t live up here full time. Ah … that would be because the mosquitoes are so big we think we’re being buzzed by a float plane when they fly overhead. Interestingly, the Inuit have a summer tradition of making their children wear lead insoles in their shoes in order to keep them on the ground when the mozzy attacks. That explains the slow shuffle …
We’re having some trouble with our head … the holding tank keeps plugging up, so I spent some time yesterday trying to unplug it and repair it. A very pleasant job as you can imagine. While I was working away, covered in the good stuff and grunting away in a tight corner of the boat, Hanns came onboard, aglow with good cheer. Ah, there you are! We’re at a party, come! I packed my tools away pretty quick … we’ll crap over the stern if need be.
Hanns had stumbled upon a generous family, David and Brenda Lucas, (thanks for the laundry machine!) who then took us to a fantastic house party. It was interesting to hear how curious they were about the sailors that have been tying up at their dock with increasing numbers in recent years. Apparently very few of them wander into town to say hello. Thanks to Mahalia for inviting us to her birthday party.
Cameron
Herschel Island
Thu, 30 Jul 2009 16:50:15 +0800When Silent Sound entered the Work Boat Channel of Herschel Island, we were expecting a day or so at anchor at a quiet historical site, perhaps with a hunting party or two in the area. How little did we know. Herschel Island was a booming community of some 25 souls by the time we left two days later, most of them scientists who paced around the island looking very serious in their Gore-Tex clothing with clipboards clenched in their hands. They’re all there because Herschel is an easy place to come and see how climate change is affecting the Arctic ecosystem.
Besides the scientists, we met the Mackenzie family, who have been living on the island for generations and now use it as their summer hunting camp.
Herschel Island was a key harbour for whaling ships 100 years ago. It then became an important RCMP outpost before being abandoned, and then becoming a national park. Meeting the Mackenzie family was great luck on our part, as they have generations of oral history on the place.
“The only the people that don’t care about the impact of climate change are those that are living in town and they don’t see the changes,” said one hunter in Herschel Island.
Marjorie Mackenzie was born in the old family log cabin, where the extended family was now staying with a brood of children. The area around the cabin was busy with wheelbarrow traffic as the kids hauled each other around camp and a jumble of mattresses laid out to air, fishing nets, knives, guns, coffee mugs, toys and scraps of firewood. But in order to get to all that you had to cross a swampy bit where the seawater was creeping up over the land.
“It’s just getting a lot warmer. There’s more water right by the house here, this bit of water right in front used to never be here,” Marjorie said.
Herschel Island is slowly sinking because its permafrost is melting. Chris Burn, of the Department of Geology at Carlton University and one of Canada’s pre-eminent permafrost experts, happened to be visiting the island, as he has done for decades.
“We know there has been a 2C warming of the permafrost in the last century, its harder to know how much of that has occurred in the last 50 years because of the data we have to work with,” he said. “This is happening because of higher air temperatures at the surface.”
At 15m below the surface the permafrost is now -8C, while it slowly gets colder downward from there.
“We know that it is definitely warming to 42m, but surface temperatures suggest that measurable temperature change is penetrating to 80m,” he said.
“Think of the amount of energy needed to input to warm that amount of mass, all that soil, to that extent.”
Burns said the biggest impact of melting permafrost in the Canadian Arctic will be the higher cost of maintaining an building municipal infrastructure for the many small, scattered communities. With taxpayers facing the bill for this, the problem will likely dwarf into a political hot potato before it gets solved.
“Can we reconcile ourselves with the rising cost of northern life, which takes place in a transition area for climate change,” he asked.
Cameron
Sea birds
Wed, 29 Jul 2009 20:55:06 +0800We've been amazed at all the sea birds we have seen while sailing along the coast. Sometimes we see large flocks of ducks or other birds, while sometimes its just a lone bird that cruises by to check us out. We asked Dr Chris Pielou to tell us more, and we realised we've already seen many of the species she mentions here:
Breeding season is now over and several kinds of sea bird gather in big flocks at sea, feeding on the plentiful food brought to the surface by upwelling currents. You can expect to see plenty of thick-billed murres, black guillemots, and dovekies (these three will become common as you go eastward.) Also three species of loons (red-throated, Pacific, and
yellow-billed). Among ducks, the likely ones are: the long-tailed duck (used to be called "oldsquaw") and both eiders, i.e., the common eider, very much a marine bird, and the magnificent king eider which stays closer to the shore. And two species of gull: the very common glaucous gull, and the much less common Sabine's gull.
It's probable that global warming will cause a change in ocean currents, and consequently a shifting of the upwelling spots where feeding birds congregate. Any data you can supply will be valuable; Art will know where to send it.
Another, probably minor, consequence of global warming may benefit some eiders (both species). They often use tiny islets near sheltered shores for nesting. Being on an islet instead of on the mainland tundra means they are surrounded by water and out of reach of arctic foxes in warm summers. But if the surrounding water is still frozen when they nest, the foxes just walk across and help themselves to eggs or chicks. Earlier melting of sea ice will therefore benefit the eiders, but probably not in sufficient numbers to affect their general populations. Some individual families will survive which is something to be glad of. On the other hand, some foxes will go hungry.
Barrow
Wed, 29 Jul 2009 20:55:02 +0800Silent Sound spent nearly a week at anchor in Barrow, Alaska, America's most northerly point and one of the front lines of the battle between oil companies and citizens concerned about the side effects of oil and gas exploration.
Barrow is the administrative centre of the North Slope Borough, which of course includes the Prudhoe oil and gas facility and other North Slope fields. Exploration has become the bread and butter of this area, but with it have come a whole host of worries that Barrow scientists are trying to address.
Heightening the concerns for residents is the fact that a large percentage of the Inuit living here remain subsistence hunters, and they rely on the animals and land around them for food.
"The mayor is opposed to some of this further development, but it is in federal waters, and it is coming. What we're trying to do is get more science done," said Karla Kolash, special assistant to the mayor of the North Slope Borough. "We don't think and oil spill can be cleaned up in these weather and ice conditions up here."
Bowhead whale and caribou populations are two of the more important species for local hunters, and in both cases there is concern that exploration activity affects their migratory habits.
Oil and gas exploration is ramping up in Canada, and Alaskans say that communities across the border could learn something from their experiences.
"Stay involved, do what you can to be in the decisions making process," Kolash said. Our fear is that one day they'll just run right over us."
Scientists here are increasingly combining traditional science and knowledge gathered from hunters and elders and combining this with scientific facts to get a fuller picture of the wildlife.
At the Ilisagvik College, sitting on a windswept spit of land that protects a shallow lagoon just north of town, much of the work focuses on wildlife research and preservation and finding out how modern human activity affects the Arctic environment. Even as they study the negative effects of oil exploration, funds that come in from selling these exploration rights are an important source of funding for their research.
Cyd Hanns is a research assistant who spends much of her time looking at contaminant levels, a concern in the Arctic because ocean currents deposit pollutants in the North.
"We've begun testing in particular the parts of the animals that people here eat," Hanns said.
Cameron
Caribou
Wed, 29 Jul 2009 20:55:26 +0800It would be well worth while to observe, carefully, as many as possible of the snow patches you see on tundra hills. As they shrink in the sun's heat, plants in the newly exposed, warming soil start to grow: there's a delayed spring flush of vegetation around these sites, which moves in concentrically as each snow patch dwindles in area. Caribou are attracted by the fresh grazing around the snow, and they use the persisting islands of snow as resting places where mosquitoes and other insects are comparatively scarce (they lack energy in cold air). This is important for the wellbeing of the caribou. Mosquitoes, plus warble flies and nose bots, harass them seriously, which is why dense crowds of caribou often gather on isolated snow patches. Disappearance of the patches will greatly increase their suffering.
Snow patches also attract insect-eating birds, but they can't be seen at long range in the way caribou can.
As you travel along the north shore of Alaska, you'll be passing the breeding grounds of four different herds (separate populations) of caribou.
From west to east they are: the Western Arctic herd, from Cape Lisburne to about Wainright; the Teshepkup herd from Wainright to the mouth of the Colville River; the Central Arctic herd fom the Colville to, roughly, Camden Bay; then the Porcupine herd west to about the mouth of the Firth River. In mid-July 1991 I watched the Porcupine herd crossing the Firth on their southward migration to their wintering grounds in Yukon. There were thousands of them, on they went on for hour after hour.
Dr. Chris Pielou
Icy sail to Barrow
Tue, 21 Jul 2009 08:21:36 +0800Silent Sound encountered her first sea ice early on the morning of the 17th as we sailed past Franklin Point. At first, it was a shimmer of white on the horizon, a white line where there should have been sea. Then, slowly we started seeing more and more small bits of ice in the water, pieces the size of a football, then one slightly bigger until we were in the thick of the pack ice, with floes that measured several meters across. We were in for a surprise the first time we hit a piece.Silent Sound shuddered from the impact and it created a deafening sound down below. As the chunk slowly rolled away from the hull we could see the smear of red our anti-fouling paint had created. The sails came down and we proceeded at half throttle.
Soon we were backing up and working our way around bits, with crew on the foredeck calling out directions to the helmsman. We had mistakenly entered the main ice pack, and we had to send Tobias up the mast to look for a way out. Over the next several hours we motored through ice of varying density until we broke through into open water about 20 miles west of Barrow.
It was amazing to see all the walruses and whales in the ice pack. There were hundreds of walruses sunning themselves on the ice, and we got close enough to smell them and hear them bellowing. The long hours of sailing, days and days of just open sea, suddenly seemed worth it. We had stumbled upon this herd, not expecting to see them, nor paying a guide to take us to them. It felt like true discovery, even though it was on a small scale. I'll never forget that first flush of excitement when we saw the ice and the walruses. We're in the Arctic! As we were slowing down to get pictures of the walruses we suddenly hear a WOOSH as a bowhead whale surfaced next to the boat, its barnacled head only meters from our fragile hull. The whale surfaced a few times and then gave us a wave of his giant tail before again
sinking to the depths.
After clearing what we hope will be the last ice until Barrow, we slowed down and I scooped up a bit of ice and brought it onboard. We broke it up, poured ourselves a G & T and toasted the sea. What a day!
We pulled into Barrow late on Friday night. Each time we arrive in port it's the same.the wild-eyed desperate need for interaction and civilisation. We'll accost anyone that walks by, greeting them, pumping their hand and pounding them with questions. So.what's happening in town? Where's the laundry? Where can we find a shower? Is there a place to get a pint of beer? Where do people hang out? Where will you be tonight? All this from three smelling men who are swaying on sea-warped legs, their stubbly faces red and chapped from the sun and wind, a huge bag of laundry slung over their back. They wear salt-encrusted boots, all are dressed in total black like messengers of death. Their battered, tiny dingy lays on the beach behind them, its oars left askew as they raced up the beach to see other humans. They clutch cameras in their left hand as their right hand reaches out for the smallest bit of human contact. Once in a restaurant, be it Italian, Mexican or French, they'll all order the same thing in their hunger for red meat: Double hamburger with cheese.
Ladies, all I'm saying is stay away from the docks.
Cameron
Hunters
Tue, 21 Jul 2009 08:20:05 +0800Wales, Alaska is a tiny village of hunters that clings to the sandy shores on the far western tip of North America, in the waist of the Bering Strait. Just across the water is Russia, with the mainland and Big Diomede island visible from the Alaskan shore.
Weather beaten homes cling to the sand dunes at the foot of the Brooks Mountains, with shallow waters all around the peninsula making a proper harbour impossible. Silent Sound dropped anchor in Wales to hear the hunter's stories of how climate change looks from the ground. The 150 people living there are largely subsistence hunters, and their oral history of the place goes back many generations.
Frank Oxereok Jr was one of the hunters that picked us up from the beach after we made a harrowing landing in the surf on our small rowboat. Baseball cap pulled low and sitting astride a quad bike, he was the picture of the modern Inupiat hunter. He's not a climate change expert or scientist, but he had a long list of changes he's seen in the land and weather in recent years.
"There is much more southerly wind now than five years ago. We get more southerlies in the winter, and this causes all the ice to bank up on the shores and we can't go out and hunt," he said. "Something is happening. We hear a lot about global warming. All I know is that when you get cold and warm weather together you get wind like that."
Little Diomede, which lies in the shadow of Russia's Big Diomede in the middle of the Bering Strait, did not have an airfield last year because the ice was too thin. In normal years they smooth out the sea ice and planes land on the ice right in front of the village.
"The shore ice is getting thinner and thinner every year," said Ruben Ozenna, a longhaired hunter nicknamed Soup by his friends and family. "When we were young we'd go chip a hole in the ice for ice fishing and it would take us a whole day to get down to the water. Used to be deeper than I'm tall, now it's no problem to dig through."
Here, all the stories centre on hunting, and woven into the stories are signs of the changing times as well as bits of family history. And now, they also contain nuggets of information about climate change.
"The thin ice makes it a lot more dangerous for hunting. You have to work a lot faster now, because the weather can change so fast. You can end up adrift on a floe. My uncle when out hunting and he ended up floating to Point Hope. Then he went there a few more times after that because he found a wife there."
But most worrying to them both are the changes in the wildlife they rely on for food. Warmer temperatures mean southern species are moving north, they said.
"We saw sea otters on the ice this spring. That's unheard of. It's the first year we've seen that. Next thing you know we'll have sharks up here," Soup says, shaking his head in disbelief.
In the Northwest Passage
Sat, 18 Jul 2009 20:42:46 +0800Silent Sound has now crossed the Arctic Circle and has officially entered the Northwest Passage … that’s a big milestone for us after some 2800 miles of sailing since leaving Victoria about five weeks ago.
The Arctic has been good to us so far…sunny skies and some fair winds. It’s amazing to watch the sun rise and set in the north (more on this coming soon). Getting to the western entrance of the Northwest Passage – defined as starting at the Bering Strait – seemed in a way like a fresh beginning for the expedition. We have been travelling as fast as possible until now to get here … now what? We had a good sample of that on Monday, when we stopped in Wales Alaska and spent the day visiting the people there. We enjoyed hearing their hunting stories, although we were saddened to hear about all the changes they notice in their environs which they attribute to climate change. I’ll tell you more about that, and our first taste of seal meat, in the next blog.
Cameron
Bering Strait
Wed, 15 Jul 2009 23:21:10 +0800Silent sound is lucky not to be attempting the trip 18,000 years ago, at the peak of the last Ice Age. So much of the world ocean was frozen into ice sheets that there was no Bering Strait. Sea level was so low that Alaska and Siberia were joined by a "land-bridge" wider than Alaska. Alaska and northern Yukon were part of Asia, separated from ice-free North America by huge ice sheets covering nearly all of Canada.
The ancient land is now called Beringia. It was ice-free – not enough snow fell to make an ice sheet – and covered by "arctic steppe", pasture for mammoths and mastodons and now-extinct species of horses, camels and bison. The carnivores that ate them were now-extinct dire wolves, American lions, sabre-tooth cats, and (the most terrifying) giant short-faced bears. As tall as moose, the bears were fast runners with powerful jaws, and undoubtedly people-eaters. Humans, as well as the other animals, were spreading eastward too, from Asia into Beringia. Evidence for them, such as tools made from mammoth and mastodon tusks, have been found near Old Crow, Yukon. They were prey for the big carnivores, and they preyed on the herbivores – putting them somewhere in the middle of the food chain.
The oceans are deeper now that the ice age is over. Beringia is cut in half by Bering Strait, ready for Silent Sound to sail through. Sea level is of global warming but at the same time the Earth's crust, which sagged under the weight of the huge ice sheets, is itself very gradually rebounding now that the ice load on North America is gone. It's remotely possible that the rise of the crust will one day overtake the rise in sea level. If it does, Bering Strait will again cease to exist.
If this happens (it would take several thousand years), historians will note that Silent Sound's journey was well-timed: a little earlier or a little later, and there'd have been no Northwest Passage.
Dr Chris Pielou
Reference: E. C. Pielou. After the Ice Age: The Return of Life to
Glaciated North America. Chicago University Press, 1992.
Calling all hams
Mon, 13 Jul 2009 09:04:35 +0800We’d like to chat with people out there that have ham or SSB radios and are following the expedition. We monitor the following frequencies from 0030GMT to 0100GMT every day: We start on 6.224Mhz, then after five minutes if we don’t hear anyone we check 8.297Mhz for five minutes. We will also check 12.353Mhz and 16.528Mhz around this time. Our call sign is CFK9034.
Langston Holmberg
Sat, 11 Jul 2009 00:00:00 +0800I met Langston walking down a muddy road between the fish cannery and the small boat harbour in Dutch Harbor. We stopped to chat, and he told me his story ...
"I'm Afro Eskimo. People see my hair and always ask me what I am. I came here four years ago but I've been fishing in Alaska for 14 years already. It's a tough life and I'm ready to go for my captain's licence to see if I can make a bit more money. I'm 39 and I have a wife and a 5 month old baby to support. I miss them like mad. It's not all like you see on Deadliest Catch. Not that glamourus really, look at my hands. Pain is free here, man. But it still beats doing the 9 to 5 somewhere, and doing that all year long to get your few days off. Here we really have to bust our ass when we're out there, but then you can come in and we chill for three or four months a year sometimes. We make pretty good money here, but it costs to live in Dutch. It's crazy expensive. I had this flat, a nice two bedroom in the company housing just down the street, and they were charging $1200 a month! It had a real wide kitchen and it was nice, but still, that's a house payment down south. It's not like it used to be anymore.
I just got off a boat, did two trips of two weeks each, back to back. It was blowing 35 knots out there, really nasty. But we were on a big boat so it doesn't really matter, we don't notice it much. But it's still no fun. All I ended up with was $600. Its bad fishing now, the currents in June are no good for going after pollock. I can spend that much in my first weekend back in the bar. So I'm leaving that boat. A buddy of mine got me another gig on a different boat, we'll try that. They're going after black cod. So now I have a week off. But I'm kinda bummed. Just not sure if I should hang out around Dutch or jump on a plane and get out of town. There's nothing to do in Dutch.once you've been to the bar and up and down this road, well, that's about it. That's why we work so many hours. You can do pretty well, earn $10,000 a month as a deckhand. Most everyone makes anywhere from $60,000 to $120,000 a year.
But most guys do it for the time off. There are not many women here. My wife calls me and asks.what are you up to? What are doing? Who you hanging out with? She's asking to see if I'm getting in trouble. With whom? Where are the women? I don't see many women that could tempt me here. It's all dudes in this town.
I'm missing my family. They're in California, doing some travelling, having some fun. I'm all kinda blue up here, but I don't want to let on when I'm on the phone with them and ruin their good time."
Cameron
Cold and grey
Fri, 10 Jul 2009 12:00:00 +0800We are about four days out of our next port of call. Given the water is now 5C and too cold for even the bravest of us to take a deck shower, it's high time we find hot showers again. We have a hot shower on board, but we're trying to conserve water.
We're only about 400 miles from the Arctic Circle now. Until now it was hard to think of this as an Arctic sailing expedition. The Gulf of Alaska was a good 6C warmer than this, making it hard to imagine ourselves using the ice pike poles strapped to the deck. Now, with the deck temperature at around 5C, it's easier to think of the Arctic. It has been awfully dull and grey the last few days.a rare beam of sunshine now and then, and when it does appear Hanns is quick to dash up on deck with his sextant. He's honing his navigational skills to sit the Ocean Yachtmaster exam. But most of the time the sea and the sky are the same dirty-grey, with a barely visible line separating the two. Tobias mentioned that the sea looks like a computer generated image, with its glassy reflections and unreal uniformity in all directions. Add to this a sea bird skimming inches from the surface, the water throwing up a matching reflection, and it all starts feeling a bit other worldly.
Someone asked us how much motoring we're doing. The short answer is far too much for my liking.we have not seen the winds we thought we'd see on this trip. Gulf of Alaska had mostly westerlies, when there was wind, and the Bering Sea has been pretty much becalmed since we left Dutch Harbor. As of Thursday afternoon we'd put about 280 hours on the engine since leaving Victoria. Some of that.maybe 10-15 hours of that was for battery charging only. That means we've probably motored or motor sailed a little over 1,000 miles, and our log shows we've covered 2285 miles since leaving Victoria. As I said, too much motoring, but there's not much we can do about it.
Cameron
Bowhead/Northern Fulmar
Fri, 10 Jul 2009 00:00:00 +0800Bowhead (Balaena mysteticus)
Auf einer langen Reise durch die Gewässer des Nordens begegnet man natürlich auch Tieren. Diese Tiere sind für uns Landratten etwas ganz besonderes, da deren Lebensraum das Wasser ist. Bis jetzt sind wir schon mehrfach Walen begegnet. Genauergesagt den Bowhead Walen (Leider habe ich hier keine Übersetzung dafür aber lateinischen, Balaena mysteticus). Die Bowheads leben in zwei verschiedenen Regionen, die voneinander getrennt sind, in den östlichen und westlichen Gewässer der Artkis. Die Population in der östlichen Arktis war durch den Walfang fast ausgerottet und hat sich seitdem nicht mehr erholt. Es gibt dort nur noch ca 250 Wale. Wir haben sie im Golf von Alaska und in der Beringsee gesehen. Die westliche Population ist größer und man schätz sie auf ca. 2.500. Mit bis zu 18m sind diese Säugetiere wahrhafte Riesen. Noch erstaunlicher ist es, dass der Kopf ein drittel der gesamten Körperlänge ist. Stellt Euch mal mit einem 60cm großen Kopf vor. Der Wal schwimmt mit offenem Mund durch die See und filtert unmengen Wasser. Seine Hauptnahrung ist Krill (Krabben etc). Durch diese Ernährung kann er bis zu 30 Tonnen Blubber (das ist eine Fettschicht von ca 50cm rund um den Wal) anhäufen. Wenn man einen Bowhead sieht, sieht man meist die Schwanzflosse beim Untertauchen oder Nebelfontäne, die beim Ausatmen entsteht. Diese Fontäne kann man bei ruhigen Tagen bis zu 30 km weit sehen. Wir haben beides gesehen und hätten sogar fast einen Unfall mit einem Wal gehabt. Er tauchte nur ca 10 m von uns unter um dann auf der anderen Seite des Bootes wieder einige Meter von uns entfernt wieder aufzutauchen. (Möchte gerne mal wissen, wo die schwimmen gelernt haben). Die einzigen Feinde sind die kleineren Killerwale. Halten sich oft in Gewässern auf, in denen Eis vorkommt. Sie haben nämlich keine Rückenflossen. Die Killerwale hingegen haben eine und meiden somit Gewässer mit Eis, damit sie ihre Rückenflosse nicht verletzen.
Northern Fulmar (Fulmarius glacialis)
Wir sind diesen Vögeln das erste Mal auf hoher See begegnet. Das Boot war etliche Meilen vom Land entfernt, da tauchten sie auf einmal auf. Sie segeln unglaublich elegant, nur wenige Zentimeter über der Oberfläche, über das Meer. Kein Wunder, denn die Northern Fulmars leben, bis auf die Brutzeit, ausschließlich auf See. Das heisst, die schlafen auch dort. Die Brutzeit ist mit 2 Monaten aussergewöhnlich lang. Das Embryo im Ei braucht ca 4 Wochen zum Reifen und Schlüpfen. Nochmal 4 Wochen verstreichen, bis der Jungvogel endlich fliegen kann. Um sich und die Jungvögel vor Feinden zu schützen, brechen sie eine übelrichendes Sekret auf alles, was sich als potentieller Feind dem Nest nähert. Ein feindlicher Vogel, der eine gute Ladung des Sekrets abbekommen hat, kann daran verenden. Das ölige Sekret zerstört die wasserabweisende Schutzschicht und der Feind kann nass werden und erfriert letztendlich. Hat er eine gehörige Ladung abbekommen, verliert der Vogel die Fähigkeit zu schwimmen und ertrinkt. Fulmars beziehen ihre Nahrung ausschliesslich aus der See. Sie essen Plankton, Krabben, Quallen, Tintenfische und Krustentiere. Sie sind auch ein großer Nutznießer der Fischerei. Sie fliegen tagelang hinter Fischerbooten her und ernähren sich von derem Abfall. Sie haben einen Höcker auf dem Schnabel. Die Fulmars trinken fast ausschließlich Salzwasser. Das Salz, welches sie aufnehmen, müssen sie auch wieder loswerden. Der Höcker dient ihnen dazu. Das Salz wird über eine spezielle Drüse gefilter und über die Öffnung in dem Höcker wieder ausgeschieden.
July ice
Thu, 09 Jul 2009 08:22:38 +0800We're now getting into the fabled Bering Sea. We expected the winds to be strong up here. Even though we waited in Dutch for several depressions to move through, there were several lows far south of us that showed the potential to move north and bring us wind but instead we're becalmed. The famous fog has not disappointed though, it moved in just a few hours ago and we're properly socked in now. But since Ms Perkins is doing all the work anyway, we have plenty of juice for the radar, which also makes us easier to see.
Temperatures have dropped pretty sharply, the sea temperature is down at around 8C, compared to 10-11C in the Gulf of Alaska. Tobias has stopped asking that we slow the boat down to allow him to swim. It's about 10C on deck during the day and 15C down below.
I've got a nasty toothache of sorts. I think it's my wisdom tooth, finally making an appearance after half a life of folly. Dr. T just shoved a spoon and torch into my mouth in the name of science and reckons it's not that bad, so I'll stop complaining and tell you about the latest ice conditions.
The Canadian Ice Service issued their July ice report last week, and it shows a faster than normal breakup in many parts of the Arctic even though temperatures were normal in late June. Some parts are opening up a bit slower than normal, but from our position aboard the Silent Sound the key ice choke points in the Western Arctic appear to be opening up well on time. As we're attempting a West to East transit, we're most interested in the areas around Pt Barrow and the Amundsen Gulf at the moment.
The report says that the breakup for the Western Arctic is running one to three weeks ahead of schedule in many areas, and as much as a month fast in isolated regions. Point Barrow, normally a key point holding back traffic from the Bering Sea, sounds like it is mostly open, so we're rushing to get North as we expected we'd have to wait for that.
In Amundsen Gulf the fast ice fractured more than a week early. "A 60 to 100-mile wide area containing very little ice developed along the southern Beaufort Sea west of Banks Island all the way to just east of Point Barrow," the report says. Music to a sailor's ears, but alarming for those that depend on the ice platform for spring hunting or migration.
The ice service predicts that the Bering Strait ice pack will remain well offshore, allowing us easy sailing to Point Barrow. By late July all the ice will have fractured in the southern route of the Northwest Passage from western Barrow Strait through Peel Sound, across Victoria Strait, Queen Maud and Coronation Gulfs. It sounds like it could be another year of clear sailing for pleasure yachts.
Elsewhere in the Arctic, breakup is about a week behind schedule in Hudson Bay and about normal in Davis Strait.
The breakup pattern for the west Greenland Coast, Nares Strait, northern Baffin Bay, eastern Barrow Strait and Cumberland Sound is three to four weeks ahead of normal with only isolated patches of broken fast ice showing
in those areas. Elsewhere, the breakup pattern is normal.
Cameron
ein stĂĽck heimat
Tue, 07 Jul 2009 22:18:21 +0800Heimat!
Eines Nachts war ich mal wieder von 0300h bis 0600h auf Wache. Tagelang haben wir weder Land noch irgendein Schiff am Horizont gesichtet. Als der Tag anbrach da kam mir die Frage, was ist Heimat? Nun, es haben sich sicherlich viele schlaue Menschen darüber den Kopf mit oder ohne Erfolg zerbrochen. Für mich ist es eigentlich ganz simpel. Am einfachsten kann ich meine Heimat so ausdrücken. Heimat ist für mich über den Kallehäuser Kippel nach Hahnstätten zu fahren, den langen Willi oder Schwenks Kall Heinz auf der Strasse zu sehen, ein Stück Woscht von Bremsers aufm Schnietze Fladenbrot von Huth zu essen, wenn Pandi ums Haus flitzt, meine Mama Fritze Flink alle Ehre macht, ich donnerstags meine Sporttasche für die Jedermänner packen kann und mit Klaus und Co. Kampfschwätzen kann, ich ein kühles Nassauer Pils trinke, mein Bruder sich mit Tokyo am Telefon meldet, ich mir das beste Kottlet der Welt auf Hühnerkirche gönne, meine Oma Gusti zum Abschied drücke, Uschi und Rainer zum Essen da sind, ich mit dem Fahrrad durch Mainz und Wiesbaden radel, meine Liebste in den Armen halte und sie doch immer mal wieder über meinen Lieblingswitz lacht (kommt ein Pferd…), eine Runde im Wald zu joggen, wenn mein Papa die Brille hochklappt, meine Schwester von ihren Freaks erzählt und ich mir einen „early morning tea“ mache (in Gedanken an meine Oma Anni und Opa Heinz, an die ich übrigens jedes mal denke, wenn ich den Kallehäuser Kippel runterfahre). Natürlich sind es noch viel mehr dieser kleinen aber essentiellen Dinge. Die Menschen, die meine Heimat kennen, werden mich verstehen. Für mich sind es die kleinen Dinge.
House party
Tue, 07 Jul 2009 08:22:11 +0800It’s still blowing outside but winds are predicted to fall to 25 knots by Monday evening, so we hope to slip our lines this afternoon. In the meantime, I want to tell you more about the people we’ve met here.
On July 3rd Anna Hillman from the local TV station KUCB dropped by our “office” to interview me. Earlier, her and her camera operator Pipa had met Hanns at the boat, and they invited us to a house party that night. A few hours later, they returned to the pub, where Tobias and I were still sitting working on our computers, and picked us up for the party.
The party was being thrown by Scott Darsney, a photographer, climber, pilot, sailor and marine electrician among other things. His house is perched up on a hill overlooking the water … stunning view. We were told housing is scarce in Dutch as the local native community leaders have wisely kept a tight reign on development, and much of the population lives in corporate-owned dorms, so Scott’s friends all marvelled at how lucky he had been to buy this house several years past. The brightness of the sky at night throws me off … I felt like we were going to Scott’s place for lunch but the cases of beer under everyone’s arms told me differently. His entrance was a jumble of climbing gear, skis, mountain bikes and the heap of hiking boots and trainers left behind by his party guests. The walls were plastered with photos and news clippings of his mountain climbing community, funeral notices for dead climbers and a picture of the Dalai Lama.
Inside the home was a mix of Dutch Harbor wanderers. Well, not really wanderers but characters that somehow ended up here, and have stayed to add their character to the already rich flavour of the town.
Scott is getting ready to move on after some 20 years in Dutch Harbor, using the town as a base for flying, climbing and sailing around the world, and sometimes just living here to work. He was a guide on Arved Fuchs’ boat Dagmar Aaen when Arved came through Alaska on his own Northwest Passage voyage. Arved is the most famous German explorer of his generation and I’m sure part of the reason our two German crewmembers were interested in sailing Northern waters. Scott welcomed us into his home and shared some of his stories with us, as well as some of his fantastic photography. More importantly, he shared his friends.
James is a New Yorker who drifted west, and then north, working as a fishing observer. His job is to count, weigh and otherwise measure the thousands of tonnes of fish that get hauled ashore in Dutch every year. The data he produces is then fed into calculations for each year’s quotas. In true scientific fashion he refused to be drawn to speculation based on his knowledge. He said that, yes, fish stocks are falling, but not in a simple downward spiral. Some species are more stable than others, and the growth patterns are shifting as the acidic levels in the sea change. Those changes are due in part to climatic change as well as human-caused pollution. Paul clearly loves his work, and it’s always interesting to hear an intelligent person speak about something they are passionate about.
Travis had landed the plumb job of photographing all the WWII sites on the nearby islands for a museum. He spends extended periods camping in the hills and waiting for the right light to shoot these historic sites, and then will return after he has worked the crabbing season to shoot the same locations in winter. He has also worked on film production for The Deadliest Catch, which put Dutch Harbor on the map for many people, and is also working on a documentary about crazy long-distance races in exotic locations around the globe. He, like many we’ve met along the way, also harbours a secret dream to sail the Northwest Passage someday, and he asked plenty of pointed questions about preparations and cost. I hope he gets his chance soon.
Irena, is a Ukrainian woman who had come to Dutch and found a job in the school library. She had studied music history in Zurich, and Hanns finally found someone with whom he could discuss dusty old Russian books. Then there was the geologist who had just lost his job, but was staying in Dutch anyway. He’d travelled the world, but still preferred the mountains around the harbour. His passion was skate skiing in winter and hiking in summer.
We’d been having some trouble with our amp meter. I installed a new meter and shunt in Victoria, but it doesn’t work, and no matter how many times I swapped the wires around I could not get the needle to move. So when Thomas introduced himself as a marine electrician who installs and services the millions of dollars worth of electronics on the fishing fleet, my ears perked up. Thomas had recently bought his first sailing boat, so he was interested in our plans and eager to tell me about his sailing boat. He, his co-worker John, and I talked sailing, and boats, and sailing, and sailing trips, and boats, and then finally agreed that since I needed an extra hand held VHF he’d swing by the boat with one for me to buy, and take the time to take a peek at my problem. The next morning he was knocking on the hull at 1000hrs and generously gave us some of his time to look into our problem. Unfortunately he couldn’t sort it out either…so we’re still without amp meter. But we keep bumping into John and Thomas, and they keep giving us rides around town.
The night we came back from Scott’s party and the wind was blowing up pretty strong, pushing the boat around on the dock. We thought we should be extra cautious and put an extra line on the bow since the boat was heaving on the lines a bit. That done, we crawled into our bunks and fell asleep. I have a well-deserved reputation for being a bit of a light and somewhat disturbed sleeper on the boat, and normally it’s a curse. I wake up a lot, go up on deck thinking I hear something or feel odd movement, and then return to my sleeping bag. Well, this time it was a blessing. The stern mooring line broke in the 30 knot breeze with gusts to 45 knots, and I woke up instantly. I’m not sure if there was a noise, but I felt the change in movement, and it had me up right away. So at around 0300hrs we were up on deck motoring the boat back up to the dock and running fresh lines. And no, I didn’t sleep better after that.
We’ve made many more friends in Dutch Harbour, and I’ll tell you more about a few of them in the next few blogs.
Cameron
Dutch delay
Mon, 06 Jul 2009 08:21:03 +0800Dutch delay
We’re still stuck in Dutch Harbor. Hanns and I looked a the weather this morning, and there’s a low moving through with winds of 35 knots … not impossible to sail through but no need to leave port if that’s the case. We’re now hoping to leave here on Monday if the forecasts are right.
I’ve been very bad about telling you about Dutch since we’ve landed. Sorry. It’s been mad busy. Getting the boat ready for the next leg, reprovisioning, some small repairs, etc. But now we’re ready, and waiting … so I have time to write. I’ll try to update you in a few blogs over the next several days.
We arrived in Dutch on July 1. Had pretty strong winds coming in … pretty spectacular scenery coming in through the Unalga Pass just north of Unalaska Island. Steep, dark grey cliffs backed by mountains carpeted in a uniform bright green. There are no trees here and the growth on the mountains does not seem to grow much past knee high … and it appears unbroken except for the occasional scar left by a landslide. The land and shoreline were shrouded in fog, and to our port side the sky was hanging low and black. The current picked us up as soon as we entered the pass, and soon we were cruising along at 9 knots with the wind behind us, blowing at over 20kts. Even though it was around midnight there was still plenty light enough to see the land. We carefully gybed back and forth in the one mile wide passage, avoiding the weather over the land as much as the rocks. By the time we had rounded the Outer Reef and turned south into harbour the wind had picked up to around 30 knots, so we dropped the sails, woke Ms Perkins from her cold slumber and shook the rest of the crew awake … Two weeks at sea, you might want to witness our docking. They sent us over to the spit dock, and that’s where we’ve been stuck the whole time. On the show deadliest catch they come in on an aerial shot of Dutch, showing a long spit with boats inside the harbour. That’s us. We had been in touch with the mayor of the town and other port authorities and hoped to get a berth in the small boat harbour in town, but the docks there were full so we had little choice. In the last few days we have managed to get more provisions, refuelled and sorted out other admin stuff from bank problems to uploading pictures. Now it’s time to relax a bit.
Life on the Spit Dock is a bit desolate. We’re a few miles from town, down a muddy little lane through a garbage dump. Kinda depressing. Silent Sound is in the company of several rusting fishing trawlers … we’re told they pay $5000 a month in moorage and haven’t moved in five years but they’re worth their keep for their fishing quotas. There are also three large motor yachts moored up. They’re travelling together, on their way from Seattle to Russia and then Japan. San Souci is moored directly behind us, and Kurt, her skipper, has become a good friend. He’s stuck in port waiting for his owner and happy for the company.
The town of Dutch Harbor itself isn’t much to look at. The roads are mostly unpaved, especially in town, and they have turned into a web of pot-holed muck-slicked paths with 4x4s splashing their way back and forth. The buildings are kinda samey… thin-walled 3 story blocks sheathed in tin and plastic with pokey little windows. A lot of the structures look like they have been thrown up in the past 10 years, but they all follow the same drab design. I find myself getting lost a lot since the town looks very similar from different angles. The Grand Aleutian Hotel could quite easily be mixed up with one of the fish canneries…it’s one of the bigger buildings in town, but built in the same fashion. The grandness was added with some carpeting and light fixtures, as well as a huge fireplace which is never lit. This town is so different than P Rupert in that way … they’re both hard working blue collar towns but Rupert seemed a lot more gentle in many ways, and it showed a lot more civic pride. I put it down to the fact that nearly everyone here is transient. Some have been here for several years, but few have really put down roots, started a family here or bought a home. Those that do live here for years on end still exude that restless “I’m from somewhere else and I’m leaving soon” vibe that I’ve come to associate with not putting much into the place you live. This is a town people come to in order to make money, and sometimes that means they stay for 10 years. It’s not a real home for anyone, from what I can tell.
But, as in Rupert, the people of Dutch Harbor have been spectacular. Stranger after stranger quickly becomes a friend. They are all keen to help out, offer a ride, point us in the right direction, lend us a tool. I wish Hong Kong were full of people like this. Everyone seems to have time for a chat, and they all seem interested in our journey. And, for a small town of about 3000 people, they have an extraordinary number of talented artists, musicians and people that have carved their own unique path through life. I’ve heard this said about Alaska before, and the reason many people cite for choosing to come here in the first place. That comes through in the music…we’ve been very impressed by the jam nights and the spirit they put into their tunes, and we’ve become friends with a few of the musicians. Such as Vinnie James, a self-made sailor, odd-jobber and musician whose song became a theme song for The Deadliest Catch. Or the Eyptian flute player who has just arrived in town and has wowed the bars with his music.
The HarborView Pub has become our second home. They’re in town, as far as the town goes, and they have free wifi. And good Alaskan ale of course. So we often camp out here for hours on end checking weather, doing email, uploading pictures etc. Connections on the island are pretty slow since it’s all satellite-based, but it’s still a life line for us. And the pub is a bit of a social centre for town, with a lot of the characters we meet showing up there at some point in the day.
That’s enough for now … more on Dutch Harbor tomorrow.
Cameron
Anna and Drew
Sat, 04 Jul 2009 10:57:16 +0800The expedition is undergoing a bit of a crew change. Anna Woch came to our team as a landlubber, and she bravely stepped on board the Silent Sound to learn how to sail as we headed north in order to fulfil her dream of going to the Arctic on a film project. However, once we headed out into the open sea Anna was laid low by seasickness and just wasn’t able to beat it. The two week crossing of the Gulf of Alaska is an experience she probably hopes to forget and it was clear that the rest of the summer would be a real struggle for her. She has decided to pull out of the expedition. We’re very sorry to see her go, and thank her for all the work she put into the project during the time she was part of the team.
Drew Fellman, who has been an active shore crew member since the early stages of the project, will join the boat as the onboard camera man. He will join us in the Western Arctic in about on month’s time and we look forward to welcoming him aboard.
Cameron
Why bother?
Thu, 02 Jul 2009 20:45:33 +0800We've been sailing for about three weeks now, and have covered some 1700 miles. We've just reached Dutch Harbor, Unalaska. But we'll only spend a few days here to re-provision and refuel before again setting off, this time turning North. This is a pretty brisk pace for yacht cruising, and we're not really getting time to visit the towns we've passed through so far.
So why bother, you might ask. We're doing all this sailing to get to Canada's Northwest Passage, which is still nearly 2,000 miles away. It's easy to forget the purpose to all this when you're kept busy with watches,
cooking and keeping the boat moving forward. Climate change and cultural preservation seem a lot less pressing when you are groggily pulling on your oil skins at 0300hrs and there's a cold rain falling on deck.
We're doing it because we think that the Canadian Arctic, with the Northwest Passage at the heart of it, is a good place to hear the story of climate change. And a few developments in recent weeks once again underline why so much attention is focused on this cold, barren land.
Canadian Ice Services' s June ice forecast predicting that the summer melting of sea ice in the western Canadian Arctic this summer is following similar patterns as it did in 2007, a record year of melting. On board Silent Sound we're eagerly awaiting the next report, due out on July 1. While the rapidly melting ice is another sign of how higher temperatures are affecting the Arctic, it also makes it easier for us sail through the Northwest Passage.
And less ice means better access for everyone, for the good and detriment of the region. Better access can mean new opportunism, or it can mean exploitation without regard for the people and wildlife that live there.
The US Geological Survey (USGS) in cooperation with an international group of geological experts from Canada, Demark, Greenland, Norway and Russia earlier in June released the most comprehensive report yet on Arctic energy
supplies. It predicted that the Arctic may contain anywhere from a 1-3 year supply of oil based on current global consumption and a 7-27 year supply of gas. That gives corporations plenty of reason to pay attention to an
ice-free Northwest Passage.
These are some of the reasons we're pushing hard to sail north and get the Silent Sound through the Northwest Passage. Climate change in the Arctic is a hot political and economic issue, and we want to learn more about what the Northern residents think about these developments. Of course, we're privileged to be able to take the time and resources needed
to go and examine a place and people simply for our own intellectual satisfaction. There are many anthropologists and Arctic experts that have already seen what we are travelling to see, and who have done much deeper research than we will be able to in our short time in the Arctic. Who are we, with not one Arctic specialist among us, to go sailing into the
Northwest Passage on a mission to learn about this place and tell others about it?
Rick Salutin, writing in the June edition of The Walrus, says it pretty well: "There's an element of power and privilege indicated by who 'takes an interest' in whom. Inuit don't go on ecotours of Montreal."
The second time I read that, I began wondering who has more power, those attracting or those attracted?
Cameron
Life at sea
Wed, 24 Jun 2009 22:46:34 +0800of the questions that non-sailors and other landlubbers ask us focus on food and sleep while we're at sea. So, at the risk of boring my sailing buddies out there, I'm going to tell you a bit about life at sea.
What do you eat?
We eat very well and very healthy aboard Silent Sound. All the meals are cooked from scratch, and we use very little canned food or processed foods. A typical meal by Anna is pasta with some tomatoes or beets and a cream sauce. Tobias is a pumpkin man, he's cooked some great dishes such as pumpkin soups or pasta and pumpkin. Hanns and I have not cooked that much yet as we're doing more of the sailing, but Hanns makes breakfast porridge most days. I've done a nice pasta with tomato sauce and dehydrated garlic turkey sausage (from the farm in Manitoba). I also made Cuban style rice and beans but the beans were a bit crunchy since I didn't soak them long enough. Pasta, potatoes and rice form the basis of our meals, and there's not much meat on board. We do, however, carry some 12kg of dried turkey jerky (again, made by my brothers) and 34kg of dried beans/lentils, so we're getting our proteins. We try to only cook one hot meal a day and eat it at around 2000hrs. But we cook double portions, so we eat the same thing again for lunch the next day. Breakfast is normally porridge with raisins. And we drink a LOT of tea and coffee. To give you a better idea of what we eat, I'll tell you some of the provisions we're carrying, besides the beans and turkey jerky. Some of these provisions are meant to last us the summer, others we plan to restock in Dutch Harbor. We have yet to catch a fish, and I sense the passion for fishing has ebbed a bit in recent days.
15kg of porridge oats and 5.5kg of other breakfast cereal.
26kg of potatoes
9kg of carrots
14 kg of cabbage
32kg of pumpkin/squash
108 cans of tomato paste
15kg of pasta
6kg of honey
7.5kg of dried milk powder
6kg coffee
450 teabags
1000+ Granola bars (they were free!)
Just as a note of comparison, the Franklin Expedition of 129 sailors left port with, among other supplies, 61,987kg of flour, 4,287kg of chocolate, 909l of wine and 8,000 tins of meat, which ended up being poisoned and the thing that killed them all.
Do you stop to sleep?
No. We sail the boat 24 hours a day, wind or no wind, rain or shine. We began with a 4hr watch system, starting at midnight. With two people per watch, that gave each person 6hr at the helm per day. However, when your watch buddy is sick, you're stuck on the helm for 12hrs a day, which is a lot. So we've now changed it to 3 hours on watch per man, and only three of us are doing watches while Anna jumps in when her seasickness allows her to. We don't have autopilot. Could we hit something in the water at night? Like a log or ice? Yes. But we hope we don't. There's not much else you can do.this is a risk sailors take every day in every sea around the world. Obviously, once we're in the Arctic and there's a lot of ice around, we'll be extra careful.
How do you shower/bathe?
Well. Erm. We don't really. I had a deck shower with sea water just as we were entering the Pacific Ocean. It was really cold.the water is 12C and the air probably the same. Felt great though. The other choice is body/baby wipes or try to shower in the head (toilet/shower room) when the boat is heeled over and pitching through waves, which can be a challenge. But generally, we just use wipes and wait till the next port, or until things have calmed down enough to wash ourselves properly. Again, if I must point it out.those boys on Franklin's ships were probably pretty ripe too.
Don't you get bored at sea?
Ha. No. We're far too busy. If you're on watch for 8-12 hours a day you don't have that much time left. Given we cook all our meals, that's another few hours accounted for, plus reading/writing, cleaning, making repairs, fiddling with the radio and other navigation gear and sleeping.the days fly by. I normally read for 20min before sleeping (I take 2 proper sleeps a day, about 3-4 hr each) and spend about 1hr on the computer each day.
That's life at sea, and ain't it grand!
Cameron
Bald eagles
Mon, 22 Jun 2009 00:00:00 +0800Prince Rupert has a population of bald eagles that borders on ridiculous. This majestic bird, which can send tourists in other places scrambling for their cameras, can be seen wheeling and soaring above the town literally in their dozens. In the harbour, they perch on top of the fuel sign, on masts and fences like high-class crows. They were an awe-inspiring distraction as we sat waiting in harbour for our gear to be delivered.
They reminded me of a bald eagle special to the Silent Sound. To have a bird land on ones mast is a good omen for sailors, and if it's a bald eagle it is doubly so. When I bought Silent Sound I had her delivered to me in US waters to avoid some taxes as a non-resident Canadian (perfectly legal, trust me). Later that same day we returned to Oak Bay Marina, near Victoria, and I tied her up near the fuel docks and put in my call to customs and immigration. As I was on the phone, nervously doing my first check-in as a new yacht captain, a mature bald eagle landed right on top of the mast, pictured here. A hue and cry rose throughout the marina, with sailors pointing at the bird and asking whose vessel she was on. I cupped my hand over the receiver, so excited I nearly pulled the phone from the wall as I shouted, "She's mine! I bought her this morning!"
We've already had a lot of good omens like the bald eagle during this trip. Blessings by priests and the generous and whole hearted support of friends and family. An expedition such as this gives you plenty of opportunities to doubt your plan, your dream or motives. "Why are we doing this? Maybe this is a sign I should give up?" But then the bald eagle lands on your mast, or you put in a majestic day of sailing on a nice fat reach under clear skies. Or a stranger offers you support. Or a friend reassures you that they want you to succeed.
When Sir John Franklin's fateful expedition set sail from the Thames on the morning of May 19, 1845 his daughter Eleanor spotted a dove in the rigging of one of the ships.
"Everyone was pleased with the good omen, and if it had been an omen of peace and harmony, I think there is every reason of it being true," she wrote to her aunt.
I hope this time the omen is better than it was for Franklin.
Cameron
Bowhead
Sat, 20 Jun 2009 10:10:02 +0800I was doing a solo watch from 0400hrs to 0800hrs on Friday. At around 0615hrs the winded picked up and shifted south, so I rolled out the genoa and shut the engine down ... ahhh, peace and quiet at last. I had a lovely morning of close hauled sailing as the sun came up and the rest of the crew slept. The water to starboard, or north, was a silvery grey, and then looking south the sea was a powdery blue with nice heavy Pacific Ocean swell and a one to two meter chop on top of that. For a sailor, it was the kind of morning that keeps you smiling till noon.
At 0745hrs I went below to give the next watch a shake. Just as I came up I saw the giant grey head of a bowhead break the surface. He/she (how do I tell?) came up high enough for me to see a good portion of its head before setteling back into the water. The whale surfaced twice more to blow huge spumes of water into the air, the last one about 30m off the port bow. I think it was a bowhead. It had a very small dorsal fin and white colouring on the underside of its head. However, I'm not sure this is their normal grounds.
Cameron
Dr Chris Pielou, our scientific advisor, writes this about bowheads:
Two populations of Bowhead whales live on our route. A western population spends spring and summer in the Chuckchi and Beaufort Seas as far east as Amundsen Gulf; they overwinter in the Bering Sea. An eastern population spends spring and summer in Lancaster Sound and Baffin Bay, and overwinters in more southern, but still arctic, waters. They are huge animals. over 20 tonnes in weight and up to 15 metres long. Before sounding, a bowhead often lifts its tail vertically and slaps the surface repeatedly and noisily before diving. It is a baleen ("whalebone") whale with baleen plates in place of teeth. To feed, it passes big volumes of water through the sieve-like plates, straining plankton from the water. Shrimp-like "krill" that swarm in astronomic numbers, and free-living copepods (relatives of parasitic "sea lice") are the plankton's most nourishing ingredients.
Whalers killed about 22,000 of the western population in the 70 years before WWI. The most recent (1993) census estimated the number of whales as slightly over 8,000. They are very important food supply for the local Inupiat: one whale will feed a small village for weeks. But the Beaufort Sea whales living off the Alaska North Slope are disturbed today by a barrage of loud underwater noises coming from oil prospecting and underwater drilling. Ship traffic, dredging, and island construction are noisy too, but seismic sounding is the worst: frequent, loud underwater explosions that enable prospectors to locate oil reserves buried deep below the sea-bed. The noise is driving the whales farther off shore than they once were, making whale-hunting by Inupiat people in small boats much more dangerous than it once was. Killing a whale and towing its enormous carcass back to shore for a longer distance through rougher seas has made a difficult task even more difficult. The longer journey also means that the meat may spoil before it reaches land. In the days before commercial whalers and then the oil industry intruded, the Inupiat obtained nearly all their lean meat and blubber (for heat and light) from bowheads. Culturally and spiritually, the giant whales were and still are of great importance to them.
Reference: Cumulative Environmental Effects of Oil and Gas Activities on Alaska's North Slope. US National Research Council, The National Academies Press, Washington, DC, USA
Dr Chris Pielou
Rupert
Wed, 17 Jun 2009 08:00:57 +0800We’ve been in Prince Rupert since Friday, and as I write this we’ve just completed all the work needed before setting sail again. We’ve done some repairs, changes and modifications to the boat, and are fuelled and watered and ready to slip our lines. The crew is ashore doing their own thing, and we’ve agreed to be suited and booted at 0750hrs in the hope that UPS brings us our sail and extra safety gear by 0830hrs on Tuesday. We are antsy to get back to sea and make more miles towards the Arctic.
That’s not to say Rupert has not been enjoyable. We love this town. We were very lucky to get here just as Sea Fest, their annual festival, was taking place. “A Whale of a Good Time”. Arm wrestling, vintage car show, beer garden, hot dogs and bouncy castles. Silent Sound took part in the sail/fly past parade, and in doing so were introduced to the entire town by PA. The crew also took part in a “Survival Swim”, a race to put on a survival suit and swim a set distance. We didn’t win, but this was a great experience for us as it showed us how cumbersome and difficult it is to move in these suits, and we hope never to have to use them. But if we do have to, at least we have a better idea of what to expect.
The people of Prince Rupert have been superb hosts, and we’ve made a few friends that we hope to see again some day, especially Dean and Leo from Mad Dog Voyagers. This is a fishing town that seems to be in transition from a working town to a tourist town. Big bruising men wearing floppy rubber boots, hoodies and denim. I watched as boats came up to the fuel docks, expertly spun around and parked by their teen drivers, their grizzled fathers slinging plastic crates of fish and ice on the aft deck as the diesel engines sputtered and farted in the oily harbour water. It looked like something out of a Annie Proulx novel. Only none of them looked much in love. The town is an interesting mix of First Nations, white and Asian people and they’ve all been equally good to us. Friendly, helpful and proud of who they are and what they do.
We’ve been moored at The Prince Rupert Rowing and Yacht Club (I have yet to find out where the rowers and their boats are kept), a tiny but bustling marina full of sport fishing boats with names like “Salty Bastard” and “Asylum”. The marina is run by two cheerful attendants, Marjorie and Kat. I watched as a boat was loaded for a fishing trip…no idea how long they’re out for but they loaded two 40 ounce bottles of vodka, three 24-cases of lager and a shopping bag of beef jerky and pepperoni sticks. Three men jumped onboard and roared off into the fjords. One massive man guy I saw today wore a T-shirt that said, “Give a man a fish and he can eat for a day. Teach a man to fish and he’ll sit in boat drinking beer all day.” This isn’t the kind of club where yachties spend hours polishing boats. It’s for real boats that leave port. There’s the sound of saws ripping through hardwood, the whine of drills and shouted curses as boat jostle for space and provisions rumble down the ramp in steel trollies.
We couldn’t resist going for some cheap and cheerful (American) Chinese food on Saturday night, and it made me a bit homesick to chat with the owners, immigrants from Hong Kong. I’ll sign off by sharing my fortune cookie note.
“A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. Take that step today!”
Cap’n Cameron
Blessing
Sat, 13 Jun 2009 13:37:04 +0800Thank you for Father Edward Lewis and the Venerable Robert MacRae for blessing the crew and Silent Sound before our departure from Victoria. Below is the prayer they offered on the bow of the boat before we cast off our lines. It was written by MacRae, who belongs to the same clan as John Rae, who was the first man to sight the Northwest Passage and to discover the fate of Franklin and his men.
Bless Anna, Hanns, Tobias and Cameron
May God and Columba and Donan, bless this craft
Many Angels dance above its deck
To ward off dangers fore and aft
From wind and wave and sunken wreck
All who sail it may they protect
And may all who sail the mighty Arctic
Treat it always with respect
And no foolish risks ever take.
Amen
Ice forecast
Tue, 09 Jun 2009 02:51:17 +0800The Canadian Ice Service last week issued it annual ice forecast for the Arctic, and it’s been pretty interesting reading for me. The whole report is available (see link) but I want to highlight some of the content regarding the Western Arctic, which is where we’ll be going first. It’s still early days to be predicting what the ice will do and how fast it will melt, but its something to chew on until we get there and see it for ourselves. The report speaks of clearing events … some of which are much later than when we plan to pass through certain areas. This means ice-free, and with our shallow draught we can travel along the shore even while there is ice further off shore.
The report predicts warmer than normal temperatures along the coast of Alaska, Yukon and Northwest Territories for much of the summer, which should help our progress. The opening of a water route to Point Barrow, which is our first major bottleneck, is predicted to be about one week earlier than normal. However, several years of thinner first year ice, and more extensive melting of first year ice, has meant that more old ice is coming down into the waters we want to sail through, and this could cause us some big problems. Older ice is harder and generally comes in larger pieces than the first year ice.
“Of concern for the western Arctic region for this summer, is the unusual amount of old ice described earlier in Franklin Strait and M’Clintock Channel. This will most certainly prevent the clearing of the Northwest Passage for a fourth consecutive year and affect transit through the Victoria Strait region during late August and early September period.”
We’re keeping our fingers crosses and steering for the north …
Cameron
Cast off
Sat, 06 Jun 2009 15:35:11 -0700We're underway. It's been a tough last few weeks of preparations, but having a hugely supportive group of friends and family there to help us has been a true blessing. Thank you for helping us get out of the harbour.
We know that this summer will be one to remember for those of us on board the Silent Sound, but our hope is that all of those following us online, helping us on the ground and playing their role in the project overall will also find special inspiration and enjoyment in the next four months. We're setting off on a difficult voyage, but it is our privilege to do so. We're young, healthy and have the needed backing to do this, and many others don't. We don't want to waste that opportunity. We want to experience the adventure this trip offers, but we also want to give something back. And we can do that by listening, documenting and putting extra effort into making this voyage more meaningful than a simple voyage of adventure. And we want to share this with you, so please keep reading our blogs and following us online. You are a big reason why we raised our sails today.
Cameron
Chlorophylle joins the team
Sun, 14 Jun 2009 19:49:08 +0800We are pleased to announce that the Quebec-based clothing company Chlorophylle has joined the expedition as a clothing sponsor. Chlorophylle is providing the team with base- and mid-layer clothing as well as outer layers for the team to wear while onshore.
Chlorophylle is another one of the serendipitous friends and encounters this expedition has benefited so much from in recent months. Tobias stopped by their Victoria shop to buy some last-minute gear and began telling sales staff Katherine and Alex about the trip. Within a day we were talking to their boss Marnie about a sponsorship deal, and a few days later we were walking down the street wearing their very comfortable clothes.
Thanks to the Victoria team for working so fast to make this happen and for their genuine excitement and interest in the expedition. They quickly sensed our team’s passion for this project and the greater meaning behind it and that helped us form a bond. We’re eager to learn more about our planet and its inhabitants, and share that knowledge with others, and that’s something we share with Chlorophylle.
The Expedition Team
Rigged and ready
Thu, 04 Jun 2009 11:39:19 -0700Silent Sound has been a swarm of activity in the last few days, and she’s nearly ready to sail now. Serge Gabilondo from Mainstay Rigging did us a huge favour and came by to inspect the rig and make some recommendations. He spent several hours with Hanns, pointing out possible weak points and explaining some jury-rigging methods. He also sold/gave us a heap of discounted Spectra line to replace some of our running rigging. Thanks for the help, Serge.
The electronics are all installed, though we’re still tinkering with some of it. We refuelled her yesterday, did the main provisioning and found places to stow it all. Today we do one more provisioning trip (the first one filled a pickup truck box!) and last minute things on the boat … but we’re going to be set to sail on Saturday!
Cameron
Guestbook
Tue, 02 Jun 2009 09:55:29 -0700The latest addition to the expedition website is a guestbook. Just click on the tab to the right.
We welcome your messages for the team and any comments you have on our mission and or what we're doing.
Ian
Sun, 31 May 2009 10:19:34 -0700We have made countless new friends through the project, and all of them push us forward in some way, through their positive criticism, contacts or encouragement. But some of them stand out and are a topic of discussion and source of inspiration for the crew long after our meeting.
Ian Hansen, a retired pilot, contacted me via email months ago. He’s been planning his own Northwest Passage voyage for years, but a severe and sudden medical condition sidetracked those plans. When we arrived in Sidney to pull the boat out of the water, he came and visited us on the hard, and he quickly became a special person for the crew. Ian also introduced us to other sailors who have transited the Passage. He and his wife Jo had the crew over to their lovely seaside home for a BBQ, and afterwards he showed us the splendid boat he had bought for his own dream several years ago. She now lies waiting as Ian fights to regain his health and mental strength, his dream of sailing the Arctic refusing to fade.
Meeting Ian was important for two reasons. We’ve encountered many sailors, boats and expeditions that are much better funded, prepared and equipped than us. But we want to do it now, even though our resources and experience may be limited in comparison. Ian’s experience confirmed our belief that we must do what we can with what we have today. Don’t wait to chase that dream.
Secondly, we were overwhelmed by Ian’s pure joy of living and generosity in sharing that with others. He embodies that spirit of living life as best he can right now, and seeing his big smile again and again was a huge encouragement to us when we were tired of sanding, laying Kevlar or other boat repairs. His sense of humour and excitement cuts through the most tiring, dusty and dirty day in a boat yard.
The day after we visited Ian’s home I was walking across the boat yard when I saw a mountain bike barrelling towards me, a helmeted and grinning Ian in the saddle. He pulled up next to me and said with a grin, “I have something to give you.” He pulled out a large wad of cash and stuck it in my hand. Thank you Ian, for the support and for the inspiration. May long your jib draw wind.
Cameron
On the hard
Thu, 28 May 2009 19:32:42 +0800We've been mad busy with getting the Silent Sound ready in recent days. We sailed her up to Sidney on Sunday, had a nice quiet night at anchor. Then on Monday morning we had the engine inspected (all clear, its in great shape) and hauled the boat out in the afternoon at the Canoe Cove Marina. She weighed in at nearly 17 tons...time to go on a diet we think. Some of that may have been the very dirty bottom on her. By 0630hrs on Tuesday we had set up a workshop in the rain and started grinding off the old gel coat. A dirty, itchy job, but we cut back about 16 square meters of the hull, right down to the fiberglass, and got all that done in a day. Then today we laid up a layer of Kevlar, varying from 4 layers thick on the stem to one layer at the beam. We put around 6 layers of resin on top of that. Tomorow we sand, put in filler, and hope to be painting on Friday ... putting on new antifoul, repainting part of the topsides and the new boot line. Lot of work, but my brother Rod and my father are here from Manitoba to help, and we're very thankful for that. Tobias and Hans also installed a new depth sounder and log.
We had a great dinner tonight with Ian and Jo Hansen, who live in Sidney and are great Artic fans. They introduced us to Ben Gray and his sons, who made it through the passage in 2005. Victoria seems to be full of hopeful Arctic sailors and seasoned veterens, and we feel right at home as one of the former.
Cameron
Psychology and the crew
Mon, 18 May 2009 20:04:16 +0800The expedition crew will be crammed together in a small space for four months, and that will bring some unique challenges. We don’t want to only document the effects of climate change but we also want to monitor what living together onboard does to us over the course of this trip. University of Mainz in Germany is helping us do this.
Prior to and after the voyage each of us will undertake a comprehensive personality test. These are the NEO-FFI, POMS and FLZ tests. Then, on a daily basis, we will fill out a small questionnaire and rate our own and our colleagues’ mental and physical state. Once a week we’ll undertake a more comprehensive test to evaluate the different emotions.
We expect this trip to require good mental and physical fitness. A decline in either one could not only threaten our success but also our safety. These tests, in addition to providing the university with some valuable data, will also serve as an early alert system for our condition during the journey.
Doc
Psychologie und die crew
Mon, 18 May 2009 20:03:12 +0800Die Expeditionscrew wird über einen langen Zeitraum auf engstem Raum zusammenleben. Wir wollen nicht nur den Klimawandel dokumentieren sondern wir werden auch uns im Verlauf beobachten. Die Uni Mainz hilft uns dabei.
Vor Abreise und nach Ankunft wird jeder der Crewmitglieder einen ausführlichen Persönlichkeitstest absolvieren. Die Tests sind NEO-FFI, POMS und FLZ. Während der Reise füllen wir täglich einen kleinen Fragebogen zu unserer geistigen und körperlichen Verfassung aus und wir bewerten uns selbst und unsere Kollegen. Einmal wöchentlich unterziehen wir uns einem längeren Test, der die verschieden Stimmungen erfasst.
Diese Reise erfordert eine gute körperliche und mentale Fitness. Ein Abfall von einem der beiden kann nicht nur die Expedition gefährden, sondern auch unser Sicherheit aufs Spiel setzen. Diese Tests werden nicht nur der Uni Mainz interessante Daten zukommen lassen sondern die Ergebnisse werden u.a Frühwarnsystem für unsere Verfassung auf dieser Reise gelten.
Doc
More ice with that, sir?
Tue, 12 May 2009 20:50:21 +0800We’re still waiting for the key annual ice forecast from the Canadian Ice Service, which won't be released until early June. However, scientists are already beginning to put out their various predictions.
Here’s something from National Snow and Ice Data Center, and their prediction doesn’t bode well for our sailing plans.
Arctic sea ice extent declined quite slowly in April; as a result, total ice extent is now close to the mean extent for the reference period (1979 to 2000). The thin spring ice cover nevertheless remains vulnerable to summer melt.
Sea ice extent averaged over the month of April 2009 was 14.58 million square kilometers (5.63 million square miles). This was 710,000 square kilometers (274,000 square miles) above the record low for April in 2007, and 420,000 square kilometers (162,000 square miles) below the 1979 to 2000 average.
Compared to previous Aprils, April 2009 is near the middle of the distribution (10th lowest of 31 years). The linear trend indicates that for the month of April, ice extent is declining by 2.8% per decade, an average of 42,400 square kilometers (16,400 square miles) of ice per year.
Cameron
Are you coming to Victoria?
Tue, 05 May 2009 20:52:24 +0800We’ve heard from friends in Hong Kong, LA and Winnipeg that plan be in Victoria for the expedition departure on June 6. Here’s some information for those coming to Victoria for the first time.
Transport -- You can fly into Vancouver or Victoria. If you fly into Vancouver the easiest way to get to downtown Victoria is by Pacific Coach, which picks you up from the airport or from downtown, takes you to the ferry, and then into downtown Victoria once you’re on the island at a cost of about CDN$50 per person. The bus drops you off a few blocks away from where the boat will be moored during the last week before launch. www.pacificcoach.com. You can also walk or drive onto the ferry, which provides regular service between a few points on the mainland and Victoria. www.bcferries.com
Hotel – The boat will be moved into downtown Victoria for the last week. Before then, it will be in Esquimalt, a suburb of Victoria. I’ve visited a few hotels near the harbours we’ll be using and suggest the following ones.
The only hotel within walking distance (15min) of the boat’s current location is Comfort Inn & Suites. Ricky Rai is a front desk manager who knows about our project, and he is offering rooms at $80/night or cabins at $100/night. Call him at 1 250 388 7861
During the last week before departure I’d suggest one of the hotels below. However, since the boat will be downtown Victoria there are countless of lodging options for all price ranges, including some good hostels.
Royal Scot Hotel & Suites is right near the harbour. A one bedroom flat with a kitchen, etc, is $115+ per night on a weekly basis, rooms are $90+ a night on a weekly basis. You may be able to get these rates on shorter terms as well. Jill Dowe is the front desk manager 1 250 388 5463 royalscot@royalscot.com
Inn at Laurel Point is a10-minute walk from the boat, very good staff, nice rooms, some of which have small kitchens. All the rooms have pull out couch beds included. The hotel has an older and new wing, and prices vary a lot since they have a great variety of rooms. Contact Kyla Rae Wareham kyla-rae.wareham@laurelpoint.com or Krista Sidhu krista.sidhu@laurelpoint.com or call 1 250 414 6716.
If you want to splash out and stay at Victoria’s top hotel, check into the Empress. It’s a stone’s throw from the boat and a beautiful historic hotel…and you may be able to see the boat from your window. http://www.fairmont.com/empress/
Hope to see you there!
Cameron
A letter from Gary Doer
Sun, 26 Apr 2009 22:36:11 +0800I was honoured to be invited to the Canadian Consulate in Hong Kong last week to accept a letter of good wishes from Gary Doer, the premier of Manitoba, my home province.
“The Northwest Passage is not only a majestic and beautiful part of our nation’s landscape, it also holds a powerful place in Canada’s history. It evokes the splendor of our geography, the legacy of exploration and the unrelenting human desire to overcome the challenges of a landscape that has seen so may cultures and peoples pass through it for millennia,” Mr Doer writes in the letter. Click on the link to see the letter. http://www.openpassageexpedition.com/gary_doer.pdf
Doreen Steidle, Consul General of Canada to Hong Kong, invited me to tell the consulate staff a little bit about the Open Passage Expedition before presenting Mr Doer’s letter. She has been a very strong supporter of this project for a long time now, and having her cheering us on from Hong Kong is a big encouragement. I’m also looking forward to her support in finding ways to share the story of the journey once I’m back in Hong Kong. We’re also looking at ways to do a live call from the Silent Sound to the Consulate on Canada Day.
Thank you to Mr Doer and Ms Steidle for their support.
Cameron
Twitter at the top
Wed, 22 Apr 2009 23:55:13 +0800Troy has designed a very cool new feature for our web site. We recently created a Twitter account as another way to communicate with those who want to follow the expedition. If you want follow us on Twitter search for OPEsailing or click on the icon to the right.
Now when we write a Twitter update it is also published on the top line of the website homepage ... so anytime you visit our site you'll be able to read the latest news from the team.
We expect to be using Twitter a lot, as our tracking device, a D2000 from Blue Sky Network, allows for instant short messaging using the Twitter platform. That means that if you’re following us, and we see a bear or a whale, you’ll know about it before the creature is out of our sight!
Cameron
HK lunch talk
Tue, 14 Apr 2009 23:01:15 +0800I will be speaking about the expedition at the Rotary Club of Wanchai’s weekly luncheon this coming Monday. I think it’s open to the public if you book in advance.
Date: Monday, 20 April 2009
Time: 12:30 pm - 1:00 pm Fellowship/Cocktail
1:00 pm - 2:00 pm Lunch
Venue: M/Floor, Grand Hyatt Hong Kong
1 Harbour Road, Wanchai, Hong Kong
Contact: Rafael Aharoni, Tel. 852-2312-1111
Cameron
I hope Boopy doesn’t freeze
Thu, 09 Apr 2009 11:22:00 +0800I recently met a man who is truly doing his bit to change the world. Christian Pilard is the founder and president of the Hong Kong-based Eco-Sys Action Foundation, which teams up with local partners around the world to create long-term environmental conservation and development programmes that suit local needs in the areas of employment, education and health. The foundation is funded largely by Christian’s business activities.
Boopy, a small red sparrow, is the central character in all of this, and he acts as an eco-detective and campaigner. His adventures help teach kids important lessons.
The Open Passage Expedition is partnering with Eco-Sys because I appreciated Christian’s hands-on approach and his attitudes on making his projects sustainable and integrated with all aspects of life. Work, health and education. I am also attracted to the foundation because it’s small enough that we can play a real role in spreading its message and yet it is large and organised enough to be efficient. Eco-Sys has partnered with similar expeditions in the past, such as those of Stephane Rousson and his pedal-powered airship and a couple who are cycling a tandem bike across Africa.
Boopy will be coming to the Arctic with us aboard Silent Sound. His cousin Polly the Parrot was otherwise engaged in warmer climes, so Boopy gets the job. So far, we haven’t found him a bunk, but there are a few ledges in the cabin that should work. We expect him to keep his eyes open and join us in learning about how climate change is affecting communities in the Arctic. And he’ll share in the adventure of the sailing trip, because, after all, what’s grander than a swashbuckling tale of seafaring adventure when you’re a kid? Given the humour and creativity of the crew, I think Boopy should be prepared for some good laughs and a truly enlightening trip.
Boopy’s adventures will be retold on the Eco-Sys website during the expedition, and Christian and I are looking at ways to jointly produce an illustrated children’s book at the end of the voyage. The expedition is not raising money for the foundation. The point of all this is to share with children what we’ll be learning on the expedition, and I think Christian, his foundation, and Boopy are great way to do this.
Cameron
Discovery.com
Sun, 05 Apr 2009 18:30:58 +0800We’re very happy to announce that we’ve formed a partnership with Discovery.com, the science, history and technology website.
Discovery.com has created a new 3-D digital globe application called Discovery Earth Live to explain climate change to a wide audience and the Open Passage Expedition will be providing the site with content. By layering NASA and NOAA data on the globe, Discovery.com creates a visual representation of the state of the planet. Discovery Earth Live offers various layers of data, stories and images related to earth science, as well as information on expeditions such as ours that are exploring the earth.
The Open Passage Expedition will provide blogs, photos and video for the site, and this content will lead readers back to our own website. We are also hoping to profile the gear supplied by some of our sponsors on the Discovery.com website in videos explaining the equipment needed to sail a yacht through the Arctic.
Satellite communications in the Arctic are rather limited compared to other parts of the globe. The number of service providers is small, their coverage spotty, and capacity for data small. This means we’ll be sending mostly text, although we have set up a courier system to move video/photos out of the Arctic on a regular and timely basis. Some of that content will find its way to the Discovery.com site.
The relationship with Discovery.com adds another aspect to the expedition, furthering our mission to tell the story of climate change in the Arctic in a new, creative and fresh way which reaches a broad audience.
Cameron
Fantastic Fundraiser!
Sat, 04 Apr 2009 12:19:48 +0800Thank you very much to all the people that came to the fundraiser party to support the expedition! It was a great night and it raised HK$31,262.50 (US$4,034.52).
That includes the cheque for HK$1,750 that Man Sai Man presented to me at the party. Sai is a good mate of mine for many years who contributed 10% of the money he raised running the Hong Kong Marathon. His main charity for the run was Room To Read.
Thank you also to Winnie Lam and Philia Lounge for their generous support, their great venue and excellent staff … you made planning and setting up the party really easy and I hope many of my hard drinking friends will return to your club soon. AKW was spinning some fantastic chilled beats, thanks for creating the great vibe. You may hear some very special Arctic beats from him once I’m back from the expedition …
The raffle prizes were a big hit and great fundraiser. Many people trumped up big for raffle tickets to support the project, and it was much appreciated.
Stuart Finn and Lisa Lee and their gaggle of screaming friends won the afternoon of sailing aboard Authority, sponsored by DB Marine Services. I’m optimistic that I converted another landlubber into sailor as Michael Logan won the sailing lessons for two sponsored by Royal Hong Kong Yacht Club. Adam Kaufman won the swish wine kit and keep an eye out on the Hong Kong Trail for Tom Mitchell wearing the brand new orange backpack he won, sponsored by RC Outfitters.
We will soon be posting pictures of the party, generously shot by Derrick Chang, a freelance photographer who offers his services to a lot of charities around town.
Cameron
First Mate Hanns Bergmann
Wed, 01 Apr 2009 22:08:35 +0800We’ve found a new first mate! Hanns Bergmann, a highly experience German sailor, has joined the expedition. Hanns replaces Elaine Chua, who had to leave the team for personal reasons. Elaine actually introduced us to Hanns, recommending him based on her own experience of sailing with him. He was planning to skipper a Clipper yacht in an around the world race, but chose instead to join the Open Passage Expedition for the opportunity to combine his love of sailing with his scholarly interests.
Hanns grew up sailing on the German coast and served in the German navy. He has worked as a skipper and instructor on sailing yachts in all waters from St. Lucia to St. Petersburg, and Sicily to Svalbard. He has also written about sailing, worked in a sail loft and helped raise funding for yacht races.
But Hanns brings far more than just his boat skills to the team. He has studied political science and languages in Germany, France, and Russia. His main teaching and research interest has been in cross cultural exchange, and he has been involved with film festivals, art exhibitions and scientific conferences.
Hanns makes us a full team again, and we’re now ready to set off. I will be arriving in Victoria at the start of May to prepare for a June 6 departure. Hanns and Tobias will be arriving in mid-May, with Anna shortly later. We still have a lot of work to do. There are funds to raise, equipment to install, routes to plan, research to be done and a million of other small things that can never be found in a “How to Sail the Arctic” handbook, if there is such a thing.
We want to thank all of you who expressed concern and helped us look for a new first mate and for the many, many sailors who sent us their applications. It was an incredible support to find out how many people are already following this project and wishing us success. Please keep following us as we prepare to set sail!
Cameron
Party like a polar bear this Thursday!
Tue, 31 Mar 2009 20:30:13 +0800In case you’ve forgotten, lost your planner or thought you'd stay home and watch telly…our fundraiser party is this Thursday night in Hong Kong. Please come!
Place: Philia Lounge, 4 Arbuthnot Road, Central
Time: Thursday, April 2, 1930hrs (that's 730pm for landlubbers) 'til late
HK$100 entry at the door
Music from AKW
We’ll be selling lucky draw tickets to win sailing lessons, sailboat outings, hiking gear, and wine.
This is also a chance to get your mug on our website (over 1,100 unique visitors in March!). There will be photographers lurking about and we've heard Hello! may be sending their man...
Please come and support the Open Passage Expedition!
The full invitation can be viewed here http://www.openpassageexpedition.com/fundraiser_invitation.htm
Cameron
Tricia joins and Elaine leaves
Sun, 29 Mar 2009 13:59:04 +0800We’ve added another shore crew to the expedition. Tricia Schers, and old college friend of mine, has joined as our media relations manager. She has more than 12 years of communications and fundraising experience with government, health and NGO organisations. Her work has taken her from promoting the tourism appeal of a cold Canadian Prairie city (that being Winnipeg) to helping manage an AIDS programme in steamy Suriname. Tricia is currently the regional director of UNICEF for Manitoba and Saskatchewan. Tricia will manage the expedition’s interaction with the media from her base in Winnipeg, Canada as well as from on the ground at the expedition launch in Victoria.
Tricia and I became friends at Red River College in Winnipeg, and the first thing I learned about her was that I could break her into fits of giggles just by giving her an odd look in class. I used this method to get her kicked out a few times…but she seems to have done just fine despite the educational disruptions. Now she lives in a fantastic old farmhouse (built by her grandfather) on the banks of the Red River just outside of Winnipeg. If you’ve been watching the news, you’ll know that this means she’s also at ground zero of the big spring flood that now threatens the area…so she may be busy sandbagging even as I post this blog. Tricia has visited me in every city I’ve lived in, and there was never a doubt on who I would ask to help manage media relations for the expedition.
At the same time, I bring the unfortunate news that Elaine Chua has been forced to withdraw from the expedition for personal reasons. Elaine was scheduled to by our first mate. We’re now looking for a new first mate, and welcome any suggestions. We need an experienced offshore sailor who is capable of skippering the boat when I’m busy with research work. We are already speaking to a few candidates and I’m confident we’ll be announcing a new member shortly.
This means that nearly the entire team has changed since the website was launched in November. This has been a challenge, but it’s all part of the adventure and learning experience. And we’ve dealt with it well, which means we’re all that much better prepared for the challenges that face us at sea.
Cameron
„Vorbereitung
Sun, 29 Mar 2009 13:57:01 +0800Heute ist Samstag und ich sitze nach einer langen Arbeitswoche am Computer nun wieder am Computer. Endlich habe ich es mal geschafft meinen Freunden eine Email über meine neuen Pläne zu schicken. Es ist schon unglaublich, wie viel Arbeit diese Vorbereitung mit sich bringt und an was man so alles denken muss… Meine Arbeit lässt mir im Augenblick leider kaum Raum dafür, aber ich schaffe es immer mal wieder am Wochenende meine Mails für die Sponsoren zu schreiben. Nächste Woche werde ich wohl mal einen Vormittag frei nehmen und die notwendigen Telefonate erledigen. (Hoffentlich reicht ein Vormittag dafür aus und ich erreiche alle…) Unsere Seglerin Elaine ist aufgrund von gesundheitlichen Problemen leider nicht mehr mit an Bord und wir sind auf der Suche nach einem neuen Crew Mitglied. Hoffentlich werden wir sehr bald jemanden finden.
Bis dahin
Tobbe“
Q&A with Dr Chris
Fri, 27 Mar 2009 09:08:20 +0800Dr Chris Pielou is the scientific adviser to the team, and this is the first of hopefully many Q&As and guest blogs we will offer you from her in the coming months. She is a mathematical ecologist and a former Killam professor at Dalhousie University in Halifax, NS, and author of the popular book A Naturalist's Guide to the Arctic. She has made more than 20 Arctic trips during her career.
Q: How has modernization in Inuit lifestyle affected the way climate change has impacted them? Are they more vulnerable than someone living in a big city?
Chris: My immediate answer is “no”. They are far more resourceful and more accustomed to fending for themselves than anyone in a big city.
But they may be unable, now, to return to their previous lifestyle if their natural fuel sources are no longer adequate. They used to rely entirely on animal fat, using caribou fat inland, and whale and seal fat along the coast. I don’t know whether the changes in population size of the Inuit who need the fat, and the animals that produce it, has changed since their lives became more “modernized”. If there are too few animals for the people, that spells trouble.
Q: What are two things should we look for during the journey, in the context of how climate change is affecting the Arctic and its inhabitants?
Chris: First, the state of low shorelines. Melting of permafrost is causing “thaw slumps” or mudslides. On the coast, these amount to land sliding into the sea. With less sea ice than there used to be, and stronger winds, the waves will wash the mud away, erode the beaches and cause much land to vanish. All this in addition to a global rise in sea level which is also in progress and will make matters worse.
Secondly, look for ways in which the earlier melting of sea ice in spring, and the later freeze-up in the fall, is affecting people and animals. The timing of seasonal events will change: caribou migration times, birds’ nesting times, the disappearance of ice that used to make it easy to cross inlets or reach islands, and so on. The sequence in which things happen will be altered too, with weird results.
Thank-you Chris.
Anna Woch joins the expedition
Wed, 25 Mar 2009 09:18:53 +0800I’m pleased to welcome Anna Woch to the expedition as our documentary maker. Anna will be aboard the Silent Sound throughout the summer shooting images and stringing together the storyline for the documentary.
After a childhood spent in Poland, Anna moved with her family to Montreal, Canada. Sbe is a naturally curious person, studying physics, philosophy and biomedical engineering before discovering her love for film. She has made several award-winning films that have been projected in festivals on all continents. With the help of a grant from Canada Art Council and from Quebec Art Council,she is presently completing a collection of poetic films about time. Her experience includes photography for film and video, sound recording, editing and colour correction.
Anna is also a teacher in both art and science. Her first teaching job was in the Lumbini school in Nepal, in mathematics and biology. In the last two years, she has been working for the Wapikoni mobile project, offering film making workshops in the Anishnabe reserve of Lac Simon (Quebec), not far from Val d'or. It is here that her dream of going to the Arctic was born.
The lines of responsibility of the documentary remain a bit hazy, but Anna will roughly fill the role of director with myself likely doing some of the writing and producing. You can see some of Anna’s past work here, and I look forward to seeing how she interprets the expedition in her own creative way. I'm also very pleased that Anna is a French speaker. This expands our language capabilities and our potential market.
Anna is working hard in Montreal to line up backing for the documentary itself and the equipment needed to make it.
Cameron
RTHK interview and FCC lunch talk
Sun, 22 Mar 2009 14:00:17 +0800I will be on RTHK Radio 3 (HK English language public radio) on Monday morning (23 March) from around 1000hrs (HK time) for about 30 minutes talking about the expedition. Tune in or listen online. If you're listening online and not sure of the time difference, use this world clock http://www.timeanddate.com/worldclock/
I will also be speaking at a luncheon at the HK Foreign Correspondents Club on Tuesday, March 24. Contact the FCC if you want to attend http://www.fcchk.org/.
Cameron
Cap’n Ice
Fri, 20 Mar 2009 06:29:22 +0800I took a humbling trip down to the Coast Guard base near Victoria’s Ogden point on Monday. There are days when I can kid myself that I’ve got a few sea miles under my belt, seen a storm or two, know how to handle myself at sea. Then there are days when I feel like whimpering and creeping down to the foot of my sleeping bag (I’m living aboard this week) and pretending to be asleep till all this expedition talk blows over. Today was one of the latter, but in the end the fear turned into cautious optimism.
Captain David “Duke” Snider is the regional director for the Pacific Region Coast Guard fleet and a part time Arctic ice breaker pilot. In short, he’s a sailing man, and knows the Arctic waters pretty well. And I was there to learn. I was introduced to Captain Duke by Wendell Sanford, Canada’s High Commissioner to Brunei and an old Navy hand formerly the lead lawyer on Canada’s sovereignty claims to the Arctic (that’s another blog coming soon).
I met Captain Duke in his office. With a trim grey beard, twinkling eyes and an office full of pictures of ice-breakers and Coast Guard souvenirs, he struck me as the kind of man that read sailing adventure stories as a boy and never got over the romance of the sea even after spending years rescuing men from its icy grip. I told him about my plans and then gave him the opportunity to talk me out of it. He nearly did, but in the end he convinced me I was onto a good thing.
Captain Duke’s main message was that the Arctic changes and surprises all the time, and especially when you think you’ve got it figured out. “We’ve had a couple of good years (good ice years, from a sailing perspective), and often that’s followed by a bad year. What happens when you have a few years of melting ice is that the big blocks of multi-year ice in McClure Strait melt, and that’s what has been holding back all that bad pack ice. This can then come rushing into the passage. That’s what got Franklin,” he tells me.
Oh dear, I know what happened to Franklin, I thought.
Captain Duke then gave me a quick navigational lesson on how to duck and run through Arctic ice, hugging the shallows along the shore to avoid the pack ice, which grounds in about 10m of water. He sketched out the roughest parts of the passage, where to watch for “razor sharp rock piles” and the stretches of water most likely to grab the Silent Sound and refuse to let go.
“You have an advantage, and, well, I guess it’s a liability as well. Your vessel is pretty small, so you can hug the shore and escape the pack ice. But, then again, if you get caught, well, you’re in big trouble,”
Er…ok, got it.
But in the end Captain Duke gave me confidence. I wasn’t the craziest, least prepared Northwest Passage dreamer he’d ever seen, and that was a sort of blessing of sorts. In my mind anyway.
“I’ve seen some mad, insane people up there. They’re not prepared, they haven’t registered with the authorities. Our ice breakers can be more than two days away if they need help.”
He recounts coming around the a bend in the Northwest Passage and seeing a “27-foot fibreglass sailing boat with a couple and their 3-year old toddler who thought they’d go on a bit of an adventure” along with tales of other poorly prepared sailors.
Captain Duke’s advice confirmed some of what I’d already been doing, building several networks of support and contacts. Canadian North, our Arctic airline sponsor, will be an important resource for helping us keep in touch with the communities along the way. They have offered to use their local radio system to announce our arrival in communities along the way. That means they will also know where we are much of the time. Add to that our plans to run a live tracker on this web site, and my registration with Canada’s Nord Reg and we have a solid system of checks on our safety.
“It’s about layers of information and support, that’s what you need to protect yourself,” he advised. “If we have that, we know where to watch for you and we have an idea if you’re having trouble.” Captain Duke has sailed the length of the Northwest Passage twice and plied both ends of the passage countless times, as well as lived in Pond Inlet. He’s the kind of guy I want watching out for our safety.
“There’s no reason why you don’t have a reasonable chance, actually a very good chance, of making it through in one season this year. I’ve looked at your web site, you seem to be taking the right steps in preparation.” I was beaming. But then he added a dose of reality. “But don’t forget the Arctic is about variables, nothing can be assumed. And it’s too early to know what the ice will be like this year.”
There were other things that Captain Duke said which mean I’ll have to dig deeper for further funds for to buy more communication equipment. And I now realise that my hope of getting into the Beaufort Sea by mid July was optimistic – he doesn’t expect ice breakers to make it in before July 28th.
Captain Duke’s men and women will be leaving Victoria on July 8th, a full month after we untie from the dock in Victoria’s inner harbour. However, they will soon overtake us an then lead the way into the Arctic, and after meeting Captain Duke I feel a lot better knowing they’ll be “in the neighbourhood” even if that means the are several days of ice-busting away.
Now it’s time to shut down for the night and crawl down to the bottom of my sleeping bag, but mainly because it’s cold in Victoria and the driving sleet outside is tapping against the portals of the Silent Sound as she pulls at her mooring lines. There’s more of this weather to come this summer.
Cap’n Cameron
New sails and sleet
Wed, 18 Mar 2009 05:56:00 +0800I’m back aboard the Silent Sound for a week, and Mother Nature has decided it’s time for some conditioning. The weather has been wretched for this time of the year in Canada’s “warmest” city. Temperatures have hovering around freezing highs of around +9C with much of the days spent in cold rain, strong winds and occasional snow flurries . This is what we’ll be sailing through this summer, so I guess it’s time to get used to it. We (Jackie is aboard as well) tend to hide down below with the diesel heater roaring away while keep drinking hot tea. I managed to get the gas-fired water heater working , but it has been pointed out to me that we don’t really have “hot” water, it’s simply no longer so cold that it causes your bones to ache.
I’ ve again been reminded how lucky I am to have the friends I do. Norman and Trudy Prelypchan have bent over backwards to help us get around Victoria, and Norman went as far as to hand over the keys to his pick-up truck so we can get around town. Thank you! We also got the chance to go hear Trudy playing in the Victoria Symphony Orchestra at the Royal Theatre, and they’ve had us over for dinner, making this a small vacation as well as an expedition planning trip.
The many people that step up to help, show interest in the project or offer an encouraging word continue s to amaze me. Jackie’s auntie Stella helped smooth the handling of our luggage (suitcases full of heavy tools and Silent Sound’s full suit of sails). Jackie’s friends Rosalind and Stewart drove us around Richmond. Chris Klaming, a West Coast photographer, read about the expedition online and dropped by to see the boat. My sister Connie has been working on endless favours I’ve asked of her and Adam and Niki, friends here in Victoria, will help crew the boat on Wednesday when we test the sails.
It’s been a busy week, and I still have a lot to do. I have booked a berth in Victoria’s Inner Harbour, smack in front of the Empress Hotel, for the last week before our planned June 6 departure. I finally figured out what the problem with the gas fired water heater is and just had a meeting with Gunter, the man who will be installing Silent Sound’s new radar, chart plotter and satellite commications gear. It was a sobering meeting, seeing what needs to be done and knowing I have yet to find a way to pay for all this. It means I have to renew my effort at finding additional sponsorship and again take a knife to the budget to see what can be abandoned.
Cameron
Air Miles
Fri, 13 Mar 2009 00:00:00 +0800We've had a very tough time getting sponsorship support for crew airfares and courier services, so we're turning to our many individual supporters for help.
Do you have air miles you'd be willing to donate to the expedition? These would be used for getting crew and expedition gear (as excess baggage) into Victoria, and then flying crew home again at the end of the expedition. Tobias is based in Germany, Elaine in Singapore, and I am in Hong Kong, and your air miles would be a great help in getting us to and from the boat.
Star Alliance miles are particularly valuable to us as they include Singapore Airlines, Air Canada and Lufthansa – airlines we're likely to fly with for this project. Of course, Asia Miles and One World miles are also a great help.
If you have air miles you'd like to contribute to the team please email us at info@OpenPassageExpedition.com with the airline and/or alliance group name and we'll arrange the transfer.
Thank you for your support,
Cameron
Three months until departure!
Sat, 07 Mar 2009 12:32:08 +0800The Open Passage Expedition is three months away from departure. Scary. Exciting. Anticipation. The crunch is on!
We have picked June 6 as our target departure date from Victoria, BC, and we’ll do everything we can in the coming months to meet that deadline. We have an entire suite of marine electronics to install by then, a satellite communications system to install, hull to sheath in stainless steel, provisions to buy, sponsors to secure and we’re still looking for that fourth crew member to do the video work. That’s the short “To Do” list. Trust me, I have a much longer list in my hand.
So, I better stop tapping away at this blog and get to work!
Captain Cameron
Ein Traum
Thu, 05 Mar 2009 09:00:00 +0800Cameron und ich sind uns 2005 in Südafrika begegnet, dort, wo sich Gnu und Löwe „Gute Nacht“ sagen. Ich wusste nicht, wo ich war und fand einen langhaarigen, bärtigen Mann mit einer Landkarte auf seinem Auto ausgebreitet.
Diese sollte der Begin unserer Freundschaft sein, in der wir häufig über das Leben und unsere Träume sprachen. In meinem noch recht jungen Leben durfte ich vielen Menschen begegnen, die ihre Träume leben oder gelebt haben, was mich bis heute noch sehr beeinflusst. Dass wir in einer Zeit leben, in der fast alles möglich ist, lässt einen manchmal das Essentielle und „Selbstverständliche“ - unsere Tier- und Pflanzenwelt - übersehen. Mit dieser Reise kann ich einen weiteren Traum leben, in einer Zeit, in welcher wir den Kontakt zur Umwelt immer mehr verlieren und die Natur abstrahieren. Es wird eine große Herausforderung im Kampf und Einklang mit der Natur und mit mir selbst sein. Wir wollen etwas für die Menschheit tun und nicht einfach nur da sein. Wir wollen die Menschen aufwecken. Der Klimawandel, der unsere Kinder und Enkelkinder viel stärker trifft als uns, ist im vollen Gange. Wir wollen etwas für die Umwelt tun - gegen den Klimawandel und deren fatalen Folgen, für unsere Mitmenschen, Kinder, Enkelkinder, und deren Familien. Der Klimawandel ist in vollem Gange, die verheerenden Auswirkungen bekommen unseren Kindern und Kindeskindern zu spüren - doch es ist noch nicht zu spät. Wir können unsere Flora und Faune noch retten, damit auch unsere Nachkommen mit grünen Wäldern und klaren Bächen aufwachsen können. Mein Traum ist es eine schöne Welt für unsere Kinder zu schaffen.
Dr Tobias
A Dream
Cameron and I met 2005 in South Africa. We met in the middle of nowhere and I met a longhaired, bearded dude on the side of the road who had a map spread out on his car. This was the beginning of our friendship. Ever since we have philosophized about dreams and living dreams. In my still very young age I have learned from people who are living their dream or have lived their dreams. With this journey I will be able to live another dream, in a period in which we lose more and more contact with the environment and abstract nature. We want to awaken people. Global warming, which will affect our children and grandchildren much more than us, is happening now. My dream is to build a beautiful world for our children.
Dr Tobias
Dr. Chris Pielou
Sun, 01 Mar 2009 09:00:00 +0800The Open Passage Expedition has added a very important new team member. Dr. E.C. (Chris) Pielou is joining as our shore-based scientific adviser. She is a mathematical ecologist and a former Killam professor at Dalhousie University in Halifax, NS. Chris has just completed her twelfth book, this one on the evergreen forests of Canada and how they are responding to climate change. She is also the author of what is often described as the bible of Arctic guide books, A Naturalist's Guide to the Arctic.
It was this book that led me to Chris. The title kept popping up in Artic adventure accounts I was reading, so I bought one for myself. It’s an incredibly interesting book to read, whether or not you are going to the Arctic, and Chris’ drawings are exquisite. I Googled her, and was amused to find out that we were born on the same day of the year, only half a century apart. I was on my way to Victoria to shop for a yacht, so I got in touch and she agreed to meet.
Chris has endless yarns of unique adventures to share and learn from. She has made more than 20 Arctic trips in the past 30 years, some as the naturalist on eco-tourism trips, and over the years she has become a keen trekker, rafter and kayaker. “I learned how to kayak in my 70s, and I found it a bit tough to drag a loaded kayak onto ice floes. I’d say if you have the chance, learn how to kayak a bit earlier in life,” she advised me.
She is passionate about environmental and climate change issues, and is not afraid to speak her mind. And she exudes a sense of adventure and confidence that immediately made me feel that this Arctic trip I was planning was not only possible, but the best plan I’d ever had. I’d intended to chat with her for an hour or two, but it was at least four later that I was back in my car with a stack of Arctic books and my head swimming with new information. Chris left an impression, and I was thrilled when she recently agreed to join the team.
Chris’ role within the expedition team is to give us advice on what to look for while we sail through the Arctic and to put our observations into scientific context. And we will share that story with you. We are looking forward to posting her views on this blog and publishing some of our Q&A sessions online to give you a better understanding of how climate change is affecting communities in the Arctic.
Cameron
Carbon Neutral with Direct Energy
Thu, 26 Feb 2009 01:23:31 +0800I’m excited to announce the Open Passage Expedition’s newest sponsor. Direct Energy is one of North America’s leading integrated energy companies and a member of the Centrica group of companies. It has more than five million customers spread across Canada, Texas and the north eastern United States, serving them with low and zero carbon power generation. Direct Energy is a funding partner of the Open Passage Expedition.
However, what I’m most excited about is that the company is providing the project with carbon offset credits to make this a carbon neutral expedition. Watch for more news on this soon!
There’s an interesting twist to this story…Direct Energy came onboard because of Nathan Kroeker, VP of finance at the company. Nathan and I grew up half a mile from each other in Manitoba’s Interlake region and grew up together. It’s a special touch to have a childhood friend get involved in the project.
Cameron
Tell the story
Wed, 25 Feb 2009 08:09:29 +0800Sometimes you need to hear your ideas expressed in a new way to see the flaws, strengths and methods of putting them into action. There’s been a lot of this in recent days as Tobias, the ship’s doctor and crew on the expedition, has been in Hong Kong for to discuss the project. Tobias is playing a key role in planning the expedition and helping me to sharpen some of its messages and focus.
The goal of the Open Passage Expedition is to tell the story of how climate change is affecting Arctic communities. We will use written word, videos, and photos to do this. Scientists play a key role in finding the data and facts which prove the changes are happening, but sometimes that message doesn’t get to people in a way that captures their imagination. That’s what we hope to do. We want to tell this story in a way that engages people who otherwise would not be interested in climate change or the Arctic, and capture their imagination through the storytelling alone. It’s a big task, and we’re still thinking of different ways to do it. We are talking to Discovery.com about ways to link our site with theirs and to contribute content to their site, and I hope to be able to tell you more about this soon.
Tobias has brought some fantastic ideas to the project, and we’ve been working with Troy, the team’s designer, to build some of these into the website. We are translating the entire site into German in order to cater to Tobias’ home market and make it more appealing to European sponsors. There will also be more information on our funding progress on the “support us” page, and we hope that will encourage individual supporters to commit funds to the expedition. Tobias helped me rework our budget, and his business mind found a lot of expenses that I hadn’t thought of, so we have to work really hard to raise more sponsorship support.
Media attention of the project is slowly building, and you can check on what has been written on the “links” page of the website. I expect to add a few more articles to that list in the coming week.
Cameron
It's chilly up there
Sun, 15 Feb 2009 12:00:00 +0800The Hong Kong heat is coming back, so it’s hard to get my head around planning for an Arctic expedition and thinking about how best to stay warm. I’ve been looking at some average temperature data for the Canadian Arctic and we’ll be lucky to see many +15C days while we’re there. The average temperatures for July are +12C, with August at +10C and September at +2…so we need to bring our woollies. We’re negotiating a sponsorship deal with a clothing company, so I’m hoping that they’ll keep us warm and dry.
We have a new sponsor to tell you about. Mustang Survival is supplying us with harness/lifejackets and immersion suits…both things I hope we don’t need but they’re essential safety gear. Mustang is a Canadian brand, so it feels especially good to have them onboard.
For those of you in Hong Kong, make sure you buy your Sunday Morning Post tomorrow as they’re running a story on the expedition. I’m hoping that with some more publicity we’ll find a few more sponsors. It’s been tough going, but we’re slowly gaining traction, and I expect to announce two more partners later this month.
Thanks for telling your friends about us! Website traffic is climbing steadily, and we’re on track to have about 600 unique visitors this month if things keep up. Troy has added a lot of great functions lately, including an RSS feed, a link to our Facebook page and PayPal for those who want to contribute to the expedition.
I am going to Victoria for the week of March 15 to work on the boat. I’m hoping to give our new sails a test and start installing some of the new electronics.
Cameron
Mustang Survival becomes an expedition partner
Sun, 15 Feb 2009 12:00:00 +0800We have a new sponsor to tell you about. Mustang Survival is supplying us with harness/lifejackets and immersion suits…both things I hope we don’t need but they’re essential safety gear. Mustang is a Canadian brand, so it feels especially good to have them onboard. We will be adding them to our site shortly, but until then, you can visit them at www.mustangsurvival.com
Mustang Survival was started by Irv Davies in Vancouver in 1967 when he made the first Floater Coat, and since then the Canadian company has become an industry leader with its design and manufacture of safety and protection garments. Mustang has become the trusted brand for immersion suits and harness/lifejackets in the offshore sailing community, and its products are used by both US and Canadian Coast Guard. It also manufactures a wide range of other safety gear for use by everyone from military and law enforcement to offshore fishermen and recreational boaters. Mustang is providing the harness/lifejackets and immersion suits worn by the crew of the Open Passage Expedition.
Cameron
RSS added to expedition web site
Sun, 08 Feb 2009 16:17:44 +0800An RSS function has now been added to the www.openpassageexpedition.com blog site. Sign up and be kept up to date as the expedition prepares to sail through the Northwest Passage!
We've also created a Facebook page, with a link on the expedition website. We're finding the page is more flexible and offers more functionality than the "group" set up, and allows us to better highlight our partners and news. We welcome you to become a fan of the expedition page.
Here's the link: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Open-Passage-Expedition/46245849122
Sorry for the confusion.
Cameron
PayPal donations
Tue, 03 Feb 2009 03:37:00 +0800www.openpassageexpedition.com now has a PayPal function to allow people to support the expedition with a donation if they so wish.
Kellett Connection
Tue, 03 Feb 2009 00:00:00 +0800I’ve found that a lot of people in Hong Kong have trouble finding a connection with the Arctic or even imagining where the Northwest Passage is. Well, now I’ve found a bit of history to bring it all home.
Kellett Island used to be located just off the shores of Causeway Bay, in Hong Kong’s Victoria Harbour. Rampant land reclamation over the past 150 years means that it is now part of Hong Kong Island, but it remains home to the Royal Hong Kong Yacht Club.
The island was named after Sir Henry Kellett (1806-1875), a British naval officer and explorer who was sent to the Arctic to find Sir John Franklin after he, his 128 men and two ships went missing. (There’s more on this on my “Arctic History” page) Kellett’s connection to Hong Kong is that he was second in command aboard HMS Sulphur during the Opium War with China in 1840-41.
It wasn’t until 1848 that he was sent to look for Franklin as the captain of HMS Herald. The Silent Sound will actually be following his route through the Bering Strait and across the Chukchi Sea. He turned westward, where he discovered Herald Island and named it after his ship, while we will be turning eastward. Kellett spent three summers in the Arctic but didn’t find Franklin. However, he was sent back to the Arctic in 1852 as second in command on the HMS Resolute, again in search of Franklin and also to aid Robert McClure, who was trapped in the ice during his own Franklin rescue mission.
Kellett was commanded to abandon the HMS Resolute when it became ice-bound in Barrow Strait in the winter of 1853-54, even though he argued that the ship was not in trouble. He returned to England that summer, and in the summer of 1855 his ship was found adrift in Baffin Bay and taken to the US for refit before being presented as a gift to Queen Victoria. Kellett was right to resist abandoning his ship.
Today, US President Barack Obama can enjoy a unique perspective of this tale as a table built from the HMS Resolute’s oaken beams stands in the White House to commemorate this act of generosity.
And now Hong Kong and the Canadian Arctic don’t seem so far apart anymore.
Fair Winds,
Cameron
Partners
Fri, 30 Jan 2009 00:00:00 +0800Open Passage Expedition is pleased to announce a new partner – Canadian North is providing the expedition with passenger and cargo services in the Canadian Arctic. This is the expedition's third partner, joining UK-Halsey Sailmakers and Jeppesen, the makers of C-Map. We expect to announce additional partners shortly.
Hong Kong - Ice
Mon, 19 Jan 2009 00:00:00 +0800There’s no guarantee that we’re going to find enough open water to make it through the passage in one season. I’ve known that all along, although its something I’ve certainly tried to ignore. Financially, I’m pretty much screwed if I can’t make it through this summer, but there’s no need worrying about things that haven’t happened yet.
Gary Ramos, captain of S/V Arctic Wanderer, was the third person in history to sail the passage single-handed by his count. He completed it last year after leaving his boat in Cambridge Bay for a few winters. He says only 122 boats have traversed the Northwest Passage since 1906, and that 38 of those were 100ft or less. Six boats made it through last summer, and I think around 10 made the attempt. I’m not sure if there’s any official database on this, I’d be interested if others have different data.
The National Snow and Ice Data Center, an American body, notes an interesting pause in ice growth from December 12-19, which they think may be caused by odd atmospheric pressure patterns combined with unusually warm ocean temperatures in the Barents Sea. However, according to their data the December ice growth was pretty much average. There was 12.53 million square kilometres of ice in December, which is about 1 percent more than 2007 levels and 6 percent below the 1979-2000 average.
With 2008 having had the second-least ice in history following 2007, I’m hoping, for my sake, that trend continues. “Heading into 2009, the Arctic sea ice cover is again young and thin; given this set-up, a continuation of well-below-average sea ice extent in 2009 is a near certainty,” the centre says on its web site. Bad news for the globe in general, but, for purely selfish reasons, good news for me at the moment.
Canadian Ice Service data isn’t quite as comforting. They are showing pretty rapid ice growth in late November pushing ice levels, which were below mean all summer and early autumn, to mean levels and even above mean. They have not posted December data yet. In the western Arctic, Beaufort Sea and Northwest Passage routes in particular the ice growth seems to have caught up to mean in November, although the eastern Arctic is still lagging behind mean. That doesn’t look good for us, as we will be entering the Arctic from the west.
I’ve been planning on leaving Victoria by early-mid June in the hopes of getting to Bering Strait by mid-late July…I wonder if I’m planning on starting too early. However, I’d rather have more time than less, and that will give the crew some nice shake-down cruising up the Inside Passage without too much time pressure.
See…my mind is spinning with possible scenarios. No wonder I can’t sleep anymore.
Cameron
Hong Kong - Wind Shift
Sun, 18 Jan 2009 00:00:00 +0800Planning this expedition has taught me that confirmation and assuredness are as elusive as wind in the sails. Plans change. Crew get side-tracked by life’s complications, sponsors opt to hoard cash rather than spend it and the grandest of dreams don’t hold up once the math has been done.
Open Passage Expedition is undergoing some of its own changes. Most importantly, we have a new crewmember. Dr Elin Folkesson is not able to join the expedition due to a variety of commitments, but Dr Tobias Neuberger is stepping in to become the expedition doctor. I met Tobias on a dry and dusty highway in South Africa in 2004. I had a map and he didn’t, and that was the foundation of our friendship. Since then he has left his medical career for business, which has brought him to Hong Kong on a regular basis. Now he’s wrapping up his business in Turkey and will spend some time in his native Germany before joining the expedition in Canada. I’m excited to have Tobias on board since there’s a lot for all of us to learn, and he’s one of the quickest learners I know. He’s also one of the funniest Germans I know. No, really, he’s very funny.
There are other crew changes in the making, but I’ll tell you more about those once I know more.
The recession that is flattening entrepreneurial spirit around the globe is making sponsorship pretty difficult. It’s the same story with every pitch. “Sounds like a fantastic idea. Great voyage. I’m sure it will be very interesting. But sorry, we have no funds for sponsorship now.” Or, those that do still stick out their neck and offer their support do so a bit more cautiously than I’d hoped. So, the budget is undergoing some re-configuration. Less new equipment, and all of it of a less costly calibre, will likely be the theme.
But, I’m still very thankful for the support I am getting. UK-Halsey is now officially on board, and they’re making new sails for the boat. Jeppesen, a Boeing company, is sponsoring our C-Map electronic charts, and I’m hopeful of adding further names to this list soon.
In recent weeks I’ve had the chance to stand up and give a few groups of people a small taste of the constant barrage of optimism, big dreams and endless details that my friends in Hong Kong must put up with daily. I’ve made my pitch at a businessmen’s dinner club, a Green Drinks meeting, and the sustainable development committee of the Canadian Chamber of Commerce. I’m now trying to come up with a programme that allows students to interact with the expedition and get involved in the research. No money, but I think an educational programme would add an interesting and awarding angle to the project.
Cameron
Hong Kong - Dreaming
Sun, 04 Jan 2009 00:00:00 +0800I want to go on a bit of a riff on dreams and passion.
I like telling people that this expedition began as a dream thought up on the deck of a boat under the blazing sun off the coast of Brazil. Then it stewed and developed for several years through my time in Canada, London and in Hong Kong as I read more about the Arctic and past sailing voyages through the Northwest Passage. Then, one day, I woke up and the dream had become a plan. There were fixed points of reference in the idea, solutions to problems, I had devised steps to carry me up an otherwise very slippery slope. Now the plan is becoming reality. I’ve bought the Silent Sound, I’ve got the crew, this website is a physical sign of the reality of the project. It’s a thrilling process, and more empowering than anything I’ve experienced before.
Now, I find myself trying to plant that same dream in the minds of others in order to get the support I need. I will set off on this adventure regardless of what level of support I get from sponsors or creative partners. I’ve planned it in such a way that I can pay for the basic expedition with my own modest resources. I did that for two reasons. Firstly, so that I’d be able to go, regardless of how much support I raise. Secondly, it meant I’d never be able to use the excuse of a lack of support to keep me from pushing ahead.
But this project has huge potential for sponsors and creative partners, and I don’t want to see it all left on the table. It has the potential to be something much bigger and better than the expedition I can pay for, and in order for that to happen I have to get others to go through that same process I went through. Dreaming of the adventure, seeing how they can be part of it, and then doing it. Many people have already caught the spirit of it and offered their help, but I still need others to join as well.
And I need your help with that. So please keep checking this site for updates, tell others about the project, think of people that might be interested in it, companies that may want to get involved.
“Victory awaits him who has everything in order -luck, people call it. Defeat is certain for him who has neglected to take the necessary precautions in time; this is called bad luck." Roald Amundsen
Cameron
Hong Kong - Staying Warm
Sun, 28 Dec 2008 00:00:00 +0800I’m back home now, regrouping after the Christmas holidays and refocusing on the project. I’m finding that the expedition seems the most real when I’m onboard Silent Sound …
Waking up in a frigid boat, huddled in my sleeping bag and watching my breath turn the air white was a good daily reminder of what I was planning to do. I had the diesel heater working well, but running the heater all night seemed unnecessary, and prying yourself from a warm cocoon and into the clammy reality is good motivational practice.
Silent Sound is tied up in a beautiful scooped out corner of the Esquimalt Harbour, and it wasn’t unusual to have a harbour seal pop by for a visit while I sat drinking my morning coffee in the cockpit. Fisgard Lighthouse is also visible from the cockpit, a constant reminder that all this is leading up to a grand ocean voyage. There are a few fresh pictures on the site showing where she’s laying.
I didn’t get to sail Silent Sound on this trip out. A shortage of time and crew were to blame, mainly, and the purpose of the trip was to get some work done on the boat and figure out what else needed doing. Most of the work was minor, but necessary, such as recharging the refrigerator. I tracked down an aging marine refrigeration technician by asking around a few shops and he agreed to come by and take a look at the fridge. He was a cheery Swiss man that had settled in Canada years earlier, and now puttered around on people’s boats and RVs for a few extra dollars to add to his pension. Within 20 minutes he had my icebox cold again, had checked my system for leaks and given me a quick lesson in maintenance.
Another job that needed to get done was measuring the rig for the new mainsail and furling genoa being made by UK Halsey Sailmakers in Hong Kong. Adam Egan, a fellow sailor and very knowledgeable outdoorsman I met last summer, came over on a cold and rainy day to help with the job. I got my harness on and climbed the rig while Adam took measurements on the deck. After a few hours of swaying at the top of the mast in the sputtering rain my hands were stiff and I was soaked through, but we had all the key measurements done. A few days later Adam returned, this time with his wife Niki, and they brought sunny warm weather with them. We rechecked all our measurements and finished the job before tucking into the rum bottle in the cockpit as the afternoon sun slid across the harbour. Bradley Clements, the son of the former owners of the yacht, came by with a friend to have a last look at her. It was interesting to have him onboard and hear some sailing stories from the 11 years he spent growing up on the boat.
I also had marine electronics expert come by for a look to give me some advice on what needed to be done to beef up the power system and what kind of navigational gear we could put in. I’m hoping to put in new radar, chart plotter with matching screens above/below decks and new radio…if money allows. We’ll also have to put in a larger alternator to provide the juice that we’ll need for the cameras and computers needed to document the trip.
I’ve been feeling pretty overwhelmed by the amount I need to learn about the boat, its maintenance, along with the navigation and sailing demands. Meeting people that have 10 miles at sea to every one of mine and seeing their reaction to my plans is both encouraging and humbling. Normally there’s a low whistle, some hard questions about boat preparation and plans, and then the excitement in their eyes grows as they begin to appreciate the true adventure of this undertaking. I’ve been lucky to meet some great west coast sailors who know the waters and the sailing community well and hearing their confidence in my plan spurs me on.
I was returning to the boat one afternoon when I spotted a young man walking down the pier next to the one Silent Sound is on. I’d seen him around a few times, and suspected he was living onboard his yacht, a 30 foot racer/cruiser. I had a quick chat with him over the water, he’d heard about the voyage I was planning, and agreed to rendezvous on his boat later in the evening over a few rums. When I asked Chris if the gates were open to the home behind his dock he told me the easiest way between our docks was along the shore at low tide, so at 2100 I grabbed a bottle and my torch and prepared to walk over. Climbing along the shore wasn’t quite as easy as promised, and as I stumbled along by torchlight I was terrified that I’d slip and break a leg, or even worse, drop my bottle of rum on the rocks. I’d seen a weasel working his way along the shore this way the night before, so I knew it was possible, but I doubted the weasel had the same amount of trouble fitting underneath the boathouse, with its filthy, oiled beams wacking me on the head every time I tried jumping between boulders. After a generous amount of grunting, cursing and heart-stopping balancing acts, I crawled onto their dock, safe and sound, with bottle unbroken. Chris had left for town with his mates, but there was light and noise pouring out of a gleaming 60-foot yacht next to his. It turned out to be Chris’ father Pat, who was giving his new yacht a bow to stern cleaning and servicing. He’d just traded in a Farr 60 for this J/160 and had, together with his wife, sailed her up from California straight into the teeth of an early winter northwesterly. His zealous cleaning made me feel a bit guilty about how grubby Silent Sound was looking. Pat, like so many others living along this coast, came from a sailing family and was proudly passing the tradition onto his own kids, with one daughter working for the Canadian Coast Guard in the Arctic. I left his luxurious cruising yacht an hour later feeling warmed knowing I had such Corinthian neighbours, and humbled by his expertise in boat management.
I left Victoria December 12 to come back to my job in Hong Kong. It was hard to leave Silent Sound again after a week onboard, but I have plenty of expedition-related work to keep me thinking about the adventures we’ll be sharing this summer.
Cameron
Aboard Silent Sound, Esquimalt Harbour
Sun, 07 Dec 2008 00:00:00 +0800Much of the adventure of this expedition will be in the planning and preparation, so I'd better start telling the story.
November 15 was the official public launch of the Open Passage Expedition, as that was the day this web site went live and we formally announced our intentions. The launch party took place on my rooftop in Hong Kong, with a group of close friends and sailors gathering to mark the occasion. Drew Fellman, expedition filmmaker, was in Hong Kong after a few gruelling months of underwater shooting in Bali for an IMAX project. We had some good informal planning sessions over seafood and beer and were able to further synchronise our dreams and plans for this project. I was also honoured to have two of my brothers, Bryan and Terry, out from Canada to help us celebrate.
Troy Dunkley has done a crack job on the website, and the response to it has been encouraging.
Just to backtrack a bit … this plan has been hatching since 2004, when I took a year away from my journalism career to sail from Asia to the Caribbean, via the Red Sea and Atlantic Ocean. In July I took a leap of faith and bought Silent Sound, my first yacht, with the sole purpose of using her for this expedition. Since then I've been adding crew to the team, working with Troy on the website and planning the creative side of the expedition with Drew, who is now based in L.A. I must admit, there are moments when the scale, danger and breadth of this undertaking leave me with a dry mouth and sweaty palms, and I wonder just what kind of beast I've created. Yet, it's exciting to see a dream become a plan and then reality, and that process itself builds confidence and momentum.
Elin Folkesson, expedition doctor, is still working for MSF in Burma while first mate Elaine Chua is in Singapore, where she is preparing for the VOR stopover.
I arrived at the boat last night after what seemed like a marathon drive from my sister Connie Harms' place in Chilliwack, in the Fraser Valley. I spent a few nights there arranging gear, including some new salon cushions. I also did a short presentation on the project at my niece's school. My cousin Tim Dueck drove me and a heap of gear to the island, and the ferry we took had to turn around in the middle of the Strait of Georgia and head back to Vancouver after someone jumped off in an attempted suicide. When we finally arrived at the boat it was dark, the batteries were dead, and I couldn't remember where anything was, or what I'd turned off before leaving her in July. But we finally got things powered up, a heater going to ward off some of the chill, and food put away. A quick trip into town to pick up a sleeping bag, some more food and eat a nice Greek dinner, and we were back on board for a much needed sleep. I love this boat already … the attachment is growing by the day.
Right now it's cold and rainy out, and I'm tied up to Greg Sager's private dock. But I've got Billie Holiday and a pot of tea for company, and Greg showed me how to light my diesel heater without blowing up the boat. A good day to relax, take stock, do some reading and writing and try to clear my head after a few tumultuous weeks. I've contacted my friends here in Victoria, and Norman and Trudi Prelypchan have already extended an invitation and offer of transport if needed, continuing the exceptional generosity they displayed in July when I was here buying the boat.
I'll be here for a week, doing some refit work, measuring her for new sails and consulting with some potential sponsors and various advisors. I expect the expedition to soon sign two crucial partners, one is a world leading sail maker, and the other is a Canadian airline.
Please sign up for email alerts to keep updated (info@openpassageexpedition.com).
Seeing other people's excitement over the project only fuels my own belief that we are on the path to success, and their support means more to the expedition members than they will ever know.
Fair winds,
Captain of S/V Silent Sound
A Voyage Through Canada's Arctic
Sat, 15 Nov 2008 18:00:00 +0800Arctic sea ice is melting so rapidly that areas that once were hidden by ice are now open for summer sailing. Warmer temperatures are forcing Arctic communities and the wildlife around them to change their habits to survive.
To explore these dramatic changes as they take place, the 40-foot sailing yacht Silent Sound will embark on a voyage through Canada's Northwest Passage in the Arctic. With only four crew and limited time before the winter ice returns, the Open Passage Expedition is undertaking a gruelling voyage of modern day adventure and discovery, and you can be a part of it.
The journey over the top of Canada, from Victoria, British Columbia to Halifax, Nova Scotia, is 7,000 nautical miles long and will take some four months to complete. The crew welcomes you to follow their progress as they face ocean storms and dangerous icebergs. Their route will allow them to see the effects of climate change in action and in each port they will hear the stories of the Inuit and others living in the Canadian Arctic who are most affected. Join the crew in learning how climate change is upsetting the Arctic’s fragile balance and share their ocean adventure.
Expedition members are now organising logistics and sponsorship support. Silent Sound is undergoing refit near Victoria, BC in preparation for the world’s toughest sailing conditions.
The Open Passage Expedition will set sail in June, 2009.
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Cameron Dueck at TEDxHK Cameron Dueck, leader of the Open Passage Expedition, speaks at TEDxHK in August, 2010. www.OpenPassageExpedition.com |
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Throat Singers A pair of young throat singers in Gjoa Haven give us a sample of their extraordinary talent. |
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Yes And No Renee, Dee, Richard and Leila explain the Inuit way of expressing "yes" and "no" at the Kitikmeot Heritage Center in Cambridge Bay. |
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Silent Sound Tour Cameron gives a tour of Silent Sound, the yacht of the Open Passage Expedition |
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Crappy Day Watch the Silent Sound crew tackle a very dirty job... |
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Last Call At The Elks Club Silent Sounds arrives in Cambridge Bay just in time for last call at the only bar within 1,000 miles. |
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Ice Navigation Open Passage Expedition yacht Silent Sound navigates the ice of the Northwest Passage |
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Perfect Day Cameron Dueck, captain of Silent Sound talks about a perfect day of sailing in Canada's Northwest Passage |
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Iceberg Crew of Silent Sound board an iceberg to take photos. |
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Tuk Shopping Open Passage Expedition go shopping in Tuktoyaktuk |
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Musk Ox Fried Rice Another episode of Arctic Cooking aboard Silent Sound |
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Musk Ox Curry Crew of Silent Sound make musk ox curry |
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Seaman's Bread Captain of Silent Sound bakes bread at sea |
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Hey Mom, I'm eating muktuk Crew of the Open Passage Expedition get their first taste of muktuk |
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BBQ Seal Ribs The crew of Silent Sound enjoy a seal rib barbecue while sailing the Northwest Passage. |
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