Missed yesterday’s post? Click here.
Started the day with a midnight polar bear watch shift. Finished yesterday’s update, then got some admin done on my phone.
FORECASTS AND PLANNED SCHEDULE
When I started my 8am polar bear watch shift with Leven, he had already had another look at the ever-changing forecasts and decided that we might be leaving as soon as 2 or 3pm today for a 30-mile row past Lady Franklin Point to Douglas Island, half-way from our, the North/East side, of the Northwest Passage to the South/West side of it. We expect to be rowing for roughly 14 to 18 hours.
SIT OUT THE ADVERSE WINDS ON DOUGLAS ISLAND
The current plan is to sit out the Northwesterlies at Douglas Island for 48h or so until Sunday, then to continue rowing across the Passage to the South/West side of it and then further North/West alongside it towards Paulatuk. We hope to reach Paulatuk within two weeks, but might take us longer if we continue to be a tad unlucky with winds and currents, fingers crossed.
MICHAEL PALIN
I told Leven, who is currently still on my shift pattern, that I purchased “Erebus” by Michael Palin on Kindle. He casually mentioned that before the first leg of the expedition he had contacted Palin’s agent to see if perhaps there would be any interest in doing something about our expedition. However, Palin is a busy man, so his agent declined.
LEAVING EARLIER THAN PLANNED
At 1pm, an hour into my 4h rest period, my cabin mate, Mike, woke me up. It had been decided to leave earlier than planned. We lifted the anchors and by 1:15pm were rowing. After 10 minutes, safe from the hazards of the cliffs and shallows, we stopped for 5mins and moved some stuff around to better balance the weight. It was a very warm, pleasant, sunny day so far with only low winds.
GOOD PROGRESS
The first four hours we made reasonably good progress, averaging around 2.25 knots, at times even making above 3 knots for short periods without much effort.
We passed through a beautiful archipelago which, however, came with plenty of hazards such as jagged rocks, submerged only inches below the surface. Karts had done some online research. Apparently, the rocks in this part of the Northwest Passage were extremely old, older than most other formations around the world.
TURN FOR THE WORSE
As soon as we had passed the islands, the weather quickly changed. We could see heavy rain in the relatively near distance around us on two sides. The winds picked up enormously and astoundingly quickly. So did the swell. Some of the rollers swept over the gunnel and our deck. It became very difficult to row. On one side the water level from the deck would be so low that it would be difficult to reach with the blades of our oars. On the other side, the rollers were trying to sweep us overboard together with our oars. Moving the oars backwards high enough above the water after each completed stroke was a battle. Frequently the oars got caught.
MISSION IMPOSSIBLE
Equally, steering had become a serious challenge. Regularly, as had happened before, we were only using the oars on one side of the boat for short periods here and there, to assist steering. Several times we (well, ahem, really: I) completely lost control and the boat started spiralling and twisting. On one occasion it took under 5 seconds for the boat to do an unwanted 180 degree turn against the position of the rudder, just being pushed by the waves, after our forward momentum had been lost. It was extremely hard to get it back on track. At some stage the rudder, worked too hard, got stuck and we had to loosen it again.
FLYING BLIND (ALMOST)
Visibility was increasingly bad, so even when we had control of the boat, it was sometimes hard to know where precisely to steer it. The course indicator display is behind the helm on the front of the stern cabin, so hard to read. The helm needs to lower their head, bow over with head turned backwards to read the display. The stroke (nearest rower) telling the helm the course only goes so far.
MORE MADNESS
One minute we were making 3.5 knots despite our oars largely failing to make purchase, just propelled by winds and currents. The next moment we managed to dig our oars into the rollers and breakers alright, giving it our best, but barely making 1.5 knots.
FINALLY GETTING A QUICK NAP
After 8h of non-stop rowing, we switched to a rotation where one of us got 1.5h of sleep while the other three got the job done. After 1.5h the next man got 1.5h of rest.
PASSING BY LADY FRANKLIN POINT
We got a good look at the radar station and what I presume is a hangar at Lady Franklin Point, before starting our crossing of the Passage. Lady Franklin Point was named in honour of Sir John Franklin’s wife, I believe, on account of her having funded several expeditions trying to find her husband and crew.
SASQUATCHES AND SCOTSMEN IN SPAIN
Some good conversations and banter ensued, as soon as the winds had died down a little, temporarily. We spent at least half an hour discussing sasquatches and yetis, before Leven told us how he was once ‘rescued’ for no reason and against his will, off Gomera, when the Spanish Coast Guard had decided that the storms were too strong for a tiny one-man rowing boat and a Scotsman.
GETTING OUT OF A PICKLE, LEVEN-STYLE
In the end, after towing our skipper’s boat to the next harbour, a mere six miles away, they confiscated it for the time being and presented him with a hefty bill of €300,000. It took a box of brandy and another box of fine cigars, plus pressure organised by Leven from the local mayor and press, for our captain to be able to nick his vessel back and continue his journey and for the debt to be quietly forgiven.
LAYING ANCHOR
At 3:30am, 20 miles (23 statute miles, 37 km) into our journey, while I was asleep, my buddies encountered uncharted shallows that were too dangerous to navigate at night, so they laid anchor. I got up and joined Leven for a watch shift, while Mike and Karts got some well-deserved sleep.
EXPERIMENTING WITH SLEEPING ARRANGEMENTS
For the first time, that night near the shallows in the middle of the Northwest Passage, I tried out a new polar bear watch seating arrangement inside the gap under the seat rails, next to Mike’s and my (the bow) cabin, with my back against the latch of our cabin. The idea being that while one of the two watch shift team-members stands or otherwise minimises the risk of falling asleep, the other protects themselves a bit better from the elements and gets more comfortable sitting down.
My view from the new seating position, see my feet in the foreground.
For tomorrow’s post click here.
HIGHLIGHTS OF THE NORTHWEST PASSAGE EXPEDITION
22 July – LHR to YCB
2 August 2024 (Cambridge Bay to Starvation Bay)
4 August 2024 (Starvation Bay to Wellington Bay)
12 August 2024 (From Wellington Bay 6h further Westward)
15 August 2024 (53mi/96km from Botany Island to Richardson Islands)
18 August 2024 (from Richardson Islands past Marker Islands)
22 August 2024 (23mi/37km Westward from Miles and Nauyan Islands past Lady Franklin Point – extremely tough conditions – ‘MISSION IMPOSSIBLE’)
23 August 2024 (Dreadful 10 miles – 12mi/19km – that felt like 100 miles to Douglas Island; welcome committee of two dozen seals)
25 August 2024 (An easy 19mi/31km from Douglas Island to Lambert Island; MS Fridtjoff Nansen passing)
27 August 2024 (An easy 7mi/9km along Lambert Island; yacht Night Owl passing by us)
28 August 2024 (STARTING OUR 64MI/104KM PUSH EARLY; passing Hanseatic Spirit, MS Roald Amundsen, yacht Honshu)
29 August 2024 (Arriving at Cape Hope after 64mi/104km – new team best)
30 August 2024 (EMERGENCY BEACHING at a bay next to Cape Hope)
31 August 2024 (CABIN FLOODED; LEAK FOUND)
Mike’s Poem about our Northwest Passage Expedition
3 September 2024 (REPAIRING HERMIONE)
DETAILS OF LEVEN’S MASTERPIECE: THE PRELIMINARY REPAIR and preparation of the re-launch of Hermione
4 September 2024 (A LOT OF DIGGING and another unsuccessful attempt to refloat the boat)
5 September 2024 (REFLOATING HERMIONE, MOTORING TOWARDS PAULATUK; MILITARY PLANE PASSING)
6 September 2024 (BACK TO ROWING AFTER EMERGENCY MOTOR BREAKS)
8 September 2024 (my 50th birthday; ALMOST CRASHING THE BOAT into rocks; Skynet; a pod of whales)
12 September 2024 (starting our last big push before Paulatuk; RUNNING AGROUND 3X; BIOLUMINESCENCE; Northern lights)
13 September 2024 (ALL HELL BREAKING LOOSE – ALMOST CRASHING INTO CLIFFS)
NORTHERN LIGHTS, 15 September, near Paulatuk
15 September 2024 (REACHING PAULATUK)
16 September 2024 (eating proper food; shower; the good life)
19 September 2024 (flying back home; 5 flights; Breakfast Club at Inuvik Airport)
Stefan will be rowing the Northwest Passage this summer – A little Q&A
Northwest Passage Expedition – Kit List
Trevor’s Travel Trivia IX – The Northwest Passage
My home town’s newspaper, Burghauser Anzeiger, has published an article about the Expedition
Post-expedition Q&As – Coming back from the Arctic after two months
2 Comments
Wow!! This is terrifying!!! Well done weathering the storm, if I had been in it my thoughts would have been one long repeated expletive and prayers to escape it!
Thank you, Margaret, that’s funny haha… (It wasn’t that scary) 🙂 (from Stefan)