Missed yesterday’s post? Click here.
Friday the 13th, yayyy. Now, I’m not superstitious. I’m a pretty level-headed guy, but I’d have to lie to say I didn’t spend a moment or two pondering if there is such a thing as a bad omen.
MAGIC
We had all four of us just witnessed the magic trifecta of nightly light-delights, the Northern Lights, millions of bright stars, and the bioluminescence under the surface of the ocean. Then the fog came back and took all that away from us.
It immediately turned much darker without the light from the stars. The sea got choppier and – unusual for thick fog – the wind got stronger. It started to drizzle and the amount of sea spray from the wind and waves increased.
ANNOYING AUTOPILOT
The autopilot went through a lengthy erratic phase where it would steer a sinus-curve line. Gradually further away from the course until at around 12 degrees maximum divergence it started going the other way again, going the right direction for a split second until it would reach a maximum divergence of 12 degrees the other way, before starting all over again. On the display the course reading would look like this, as opposed to a bearing of 272 degrees: 272… 275… 280… 284… 280… 275… 272… 268… 264… 260… 264… 268… 272…
A LOT OF ADDED MILEAGE
Not only did this add a ton of mileage to our journey, it also made rowing much harder, with an almost constantly turned rudder, greatly increasing friction and reducing our momentum. The GPS-based forward ‘ground speed’ (really: ‘water speed’) of at the time roughly 3.2 knots, which felt good, considering the conditions, was based on our speed along the sinus curve, not along the straight line towards our next checkpoint. Along a straight line I’m guessing we were at best doing 2.2 knots, much less impressive.
CHECKING THE DEPTH
We knew we were getting closer to the shore again. We were religiously and constantly checking the depth display. Every now and then Leven would stop rowing, stand up from his seat, turn around to look ahead for any sign of the shore, but nothing. The electronic chart, which updates real-time on Leven’s mobile phone (and it would on our phones as well, as we downloaded the app, too), still showed us far away from any shallows.
ALL GOOD
54m… 48m… 51m… 45… 43m… 44m… nothing to report here. This went on for a while, until the readings changed radically within a short minute, despite there still being no discernible visual signs of danger:
WHAT THE ABSOLUTE…
42m… 32m… 31m… 28m… 8… 7… 6… what the ABSOLUTE FLYING F… 5… 4… TAKE OVER THE STEERING HANDLES, I’LL TAKE HER OFF AUTOPILOT… 3… 2.9… 2.7… 2.5… 2.5… 2.6… 2.7… 2.9… 3.4… 4… 5… Looks like we’re good, chaps.
FUN FACT: EXTREMELY DARK NIGHTS ON THE ARCTIC OCEAN CAN BE SCARY
For the next hour or two it got darker than it had ever been before on our venture. It felt like inside a windowless box. But the ground is moving erratically non-stop. For the first time I felt more than the common ‘a little uncomfortable’ standing up and walking to the helm or to the front cabin and back. With no horizon and no other firm marks other than the moving and shaking boat you only had your body to tell you which way to stand or walk to keep your balance.
HOW DO I COMPARE WITH A 73YO? APPARENTLY NOT TOO WELL.
My respect for Karts grew. At 73 years of age, he walked along the deck to and from the helm position and back cabin to his rowing position and back. At 50, this guy here (me) preferred to make any distance that couldn’t be avoided by holding in your number one, missing out on that hot tea, or by staying hungry, by means of crawling on my hands and knees.
WINDS GETTING STRONGER…
The fog had gone by now, but the wind had turned up a few notches. For now, it was coming from behind us. However, if it grew to more than 12 knots it could quickly become a problem, even as a tailwind, because the boat would become impossible to steer.
…AND STRONGER – NOW WE HAVE TO RUSH PAST CAPE LION
At 2:30am I had my first and only 1.5h rest period of this row. When I came back out of my cabin at 4am to take my rowing seat and see Karts take his 1.5h turn instead, it was clear that the situation was tense. The winds were now very strong and there was no suitable anchorage for another 6 miles (6.5 statute miles, 11km) or 3 hours. We better made it around Cape Lion as quickly as possible, before the winds became violent enough to push us into the rock cliffs.
ALL HELL BREAKING LOOSE
It was shortly past 6am when all hell broke loose. I had fallen almost into a slight trance by that time. Mike was at the helm when I started properly breaking out of my haze and noticing things. He was shouting at Leven, whose head stuck out of the rear cabin roof window:
“I’M TRYING. THAT BLOODY RUDDER DOESN’T MOVE!”
“TRY HARDER!”
“LEVEN I’M TELLING YOU IT DOESN’T WORK, RUDDER’S NOT MOVING AN INCH!”
“OKAY. WAIT.”
Leven is doing some more work on the autopilot’s control unit or rather the steering strings coming from the rudder.
THAT CLIFF IS TOO CLOSE
Only now do I notice that we are heading straight towards a rock cliff. We are no more than four boat lengths away from impact.
LEVEN BACK AT THE HELM, THE THREE OF US ROWING
Leven has now completed whatever he has been doing and he has taken over the helm from Mike, who is now back in stroke (front rower near back of boat) position. He roars at full volume:
RIGHT OARS ONLY! HARD AS YOU CAN! HARDER! HARD AS YOU CAN! GO! HARDER! GO MUCH HARDER! RIGHT OARS ONLY!
NOW ALL OARS! HARD AS YOU CAN! HARDER! GO! HARDER! ALL OARS! DON’T LET’S AVOID THAT CLIFF!
LAYING ANCHOR
After an intense 15 minutes the situation was under control. Another 45 minutes later we were laying anchor next to a cliff side in calm conditions and a flat sea. The others heated up some rations, I went into the front cabin, laid down and fell straight asleep. Hopefully tomorrow we would be rowing again from early evening.
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
We just got through watching The Terror, for the second time, which led to discussing the Northwest Passage. We were interested if it’s being used, and that led me to your website. Of course, I was astounded you and the crew are rowing through the Passage. I assumed I’d find commerical ships. That is a once in a lifetime adventure. My cousin, who recently turned 80, just walked Hadrian’s Wall Trail in England. I thought he was being adventurous but you have beat him. I just wanted to say, I’m very much enjoying the account of your trip and hope your journey is memorable but uneventful weather wise. Thank you for sharing your experience and Godspeed.
Thank you for the lovely comment, Sue. Your cousin does sound very adventurous, too, I have to say. 🙂