Q&As Northwest Passage – Coming Back from the Arctic after Two Months

Have you missed the first set of Q&As, which I posted before the start of the expedition? The second set of Q&As here are self-sufficient, so no worries. However, should you want to have a broader understanding about the Northwest Passage, what my three buddies and I set out to achieve, how it all came about, how I prepared, etc., then you can click here for the first set of Q&As.

I created a second, much longer version of the Q&As, in case you’re interested in more detail.

 

Q: Welcome back. When did you return from the Northwest Passage and how long were you there for?

A: I came back in mid-September (19.09.2024). I was in the Arctic for two months, 6 weeks of which I spent on water.

Q: How was it?

A: Easily the best thing I’ve ever done apart from meeting my wife and getting her to marry me.

 

 

Feature pic (c) Pexels. Pic #1 above (c) Art Huseonica.

 

PREPARATION / RUN-UP

 

Q: Did you feel that your preparation was adequate?

A: Well, I didn’t really prepare much at all. I had come on board on very short notice, when one of the other guys broke his arm. So there was not much time to prepare. I had to focus on the bare essentials. Buying all the clothes, kit, and gear, creating powers of attorney, handing over login details. Making sure my small business will survive me being away for so long, and so on.

In terms of preparing physically through training, I did the opposite of what is recommended. I trained much less than I usually do. Cancelled any dangerous activities like caving, rock-climbing, white water stuff, open-water swimming, or ultra trail-running due to the injury risk, and most other activities due to lack of time.

 

 

 

EXPECTATIONS VS. REALITY

 

Q: So, preparations aside, did the expedition turn out to be what you expected it to be?

A: I guess to some extent it did. I did end up on a boat in the Arctic with three other dudes and we did some rowing. It felt like a proper adventure. It was difficult and dangerous.

In other ways, it was very different from what I had expected. For example, I had been both worried about and looking forward to seeing polar bears. Last year, on the first leg of two of this expedition, my fellow team members had seen about a dozen polar bears and they narrowly survived one polar bear attack. We didn’t see any polar bears, and not even grizzly bears.

During the first leg, the landscape involved a lot of ice, including icebergs, sea-ice, more than 2,000m high, snow-covered mountains, majestic, 200m-tall vertical rock cliffs. So the feature photograph of this blog post, while perfectly representative of the Northwest Passage rowing expedition as such, is not at all what we experienced during the second leg, earlier this year. We only saw ice three times, small patches on the shady side of mounds. Except for the past ten days, we mostly saw 1 to 5m tall gravel islands and coastline with a few rocks thrown in. Next to no vegetation. Often not even grasses or weeds. Extremely limited wildlife. Two sightings of caribous, five varieties of seabirds, plenty of seals everywhere, from three different species, Arctic chars (a salmon-like fish), Arctic foxes, Arctic hares. Hopefully the feature photo will make it easier to get some traction for these Q&As.

Q: Did you do any blogging, while you were at sea?

A: Yes, there is a blog post for every single day of the expedition. Sometimes, I didn’t find the energy to write for a couple of days, but then I’d write several blog posts on a single day, to make up for it. Each blog post corresponds exactly with one day on the expedition.

Q: Before the expedition you had mentioned that you feel confident, but that you naturally also have some worries.

A: Yes, there were many worries. My biggest fear was not even getting myself killed or seriously injured, but being responsible for the failure of the expedition. We were only four guys, in a boat designed for eight rowers. If one of us would not have been able to do their part, then the expedition would have had to be terminated, no other options. It is not possible to do such an expedition with only three rowers. I was worried I would simply not be strong enough, not good enough at rowing, that I might be constantly seasick, or have stomach problems. Luckily, none of this happened.

Q: So was it easier than you expected?

A: I wouldn’t quite phrase it that way. Leven, our skipper, who broke 9 world records, 5 of which still stand, and who has been on dozens of expeditions, keeps on telling everyone who listens, that the Northwest Passage was by far the most difficult expedition he was ever on. And I believe he means it. So it wasn’t easy.

Things could have turned South on quite a few occasions along the way. We were constantly cold, wet, and exhausted. The sea and weather tried everything to hold us back. On the other hand, none of the horrible things that could have happened did happen.

 

Q: Okay, so not really easier than expected, even though you felt lucky that you had no serious health issues or accidents in the team. What about the storms?

A: There were no hurricane-strength storms (which have been witnessed on occasion in the Passage). On the other hand, the weather was generally speaking much more difficult than anticipated, with almost constantly adverse winds and currents. We spent less than 10% of the time rowing. Once we were waiting for good weather for a whole eight days in a row.

Q: At least the waiting does sound relaxing and, I guess, “easy”, no?

A: It certainly was physically less exhausting than rowing, but usually still far from easy. We always had two men on polar bear watch, while the other two were trying to get some rest. Mostly four hours on, four hours off. During the four hours off, you might be too cold or the boat might be too shaky on the waves to sleep. Sometimes, the situation required all four of us to be involved, for example when moving the boat to a nearby, but different location. It’s not like you know how long you will be anchored. You regularly prepare for the next rowing leg later that day or the next morning, you get everything ready, only for it to be cancelled last minute because the weather has had a change of heart.

 

THE HARDEST THING DURING THE EXPEDITION

 

If you’d ask me, what the hardest thing during the six weeks at sea was, then I’d probably say the waiting. Because we all were very eager to finish the Northwest Passage. And with every hour and every day that passes, you know that your chances grow slimmer.

Q: Well, how hard was the rowing then?

A: Largely because of our bad luck with the weather and currents, and because of us only being four not eight people, we had to row pretty hard, each time when we finally had a weather window. The longest non-stop row we have done was 106km in 27 hours.

 

 

 

NOT MUCH SLEEP

 

Q: Did none of you get any sleep during that time?

A: We all had two or more hours rest time and got some sleep, but only very little. The boat was continuously being rowed during the whole period.

 

SLEEP DEPRIVATION IN GENERAL

 

Q: Sleep deprivation was one of your biggest concerns before you started the expedition. Some ocean rowers have called it their biggest problem. How hard was it?

A: This part was indeed much easier than feared. Except for the few very long rows, I almost always got at least six or seven hours of sleep. I was always tired, but it was never painful or super-difficult.

 

THE FUNNIEST THINGS

 

Q: What was the funniest thing that happened?

A: When you go to the toilet, you use a bucket, half-filled with sea water, then go about your business on deck, in full sight of the man at the helm (which was me, at the time). Then you empty the bucket into the sea. In very strong winds and high waves, one of us went to the toilet, then slipped, while emptying the bucket. It was like out of a Charly Chaplin movie, over the top slap-stick full mid-air rotation, with the inside of the bucket spreading everywhere around him. Luckily, the unfortunate team-mate didn’t sustain any injuries in the fall. If so, then obviously it wouldn’t be funny.

Q: Well, a bit rough, but probably worth digging in some more. Any other funny moments?

A: After we had arrived in Paulatuk, the two officers who make up the local police force, asked us to come to their station to have our passports copied and to go through some further formalities. At the time, we had just gotten off the boat. We were all a tad euphoric and light-headed. I had shaved my beard for the first time in weeks.

When I rocked up at the station, everyone else already happened to be there, having arrived early. Police stations are always somewhat tense, I guess. It’s not a place anyone wants to be at, unless you are a police officer. Out of nowhere, Leven said “You’ve shaved your beard.” Without thinking, on a whim, I said “yeah, but you should see the downstairs.” A joke, of course. Everyone’s face froze for a few seconds, then roaring laughter.

 

WHAT WAS THE STRANGEST THING THAT HAPPENED?

 

Q: What was the strangest thing that happened?

A: Somewhere between Lady Jane Point and Cape Hope, we passed by a very weird underground compound.

Q: If it was underground, how could you see it from the boat?

A: Strictly speaking, we didn’t. We just saw the signs. There were a number of hangar-size, hose-shaped, clearly man-made mounds, with very robust air vents sticking out of them every ten metres or so. There were also newly paved, very high-quality roads and a runway. CCTV cameras on tall posts everywhere, but no fencing. No warning signs. Nothing.

 

Pic #1 (c) Art Huseonica.

Q: What do you think it was?

A: According to Google Maps the compound doesn’t exist. If it would have been a military or other government agency complex, then there certainly would have been fencing, warning signs, and armed guards. We are thinking probably some prepper billionaire, who wants to enjoy an adequate amount of luxury after WWIII has wiped out the rest of us.

 

SPY STATIONS

 

Q: Did you see actual spy stations up there?

A: About nine or ten of them, yes. They are called DEW stations, which stands for Distant Early Warning-Line stations. Those radar stations were set up by the U.S. in collaboration with Canada during the Cold War to spot any approaching Soviet bombers. Today they are either unmanned or manned by just one or two guards. None of them are operational any longer.

 

HUMAN SKULL

 

Q: We had been talking about strange things you came across on your expedition. Anything else comes to mind?

A: Yes. While we were stranded near Cape Hope for 5 days, we explored the surrounding lands and Mike found a human skull, which we reported to the police. We think it might have been a Caucasian hunter, certainly no Inuit, who met his maker at least five or ten years ago. No clear indication as to how he died. The day after the find, less than a kilometre away, Leven then spotted what he thought might be an Inuit burial ground or alternatively an Inuit food storage depot, presumably well over 100 years old, long before the unlucky white hunter arrived.

 

MOST DANGEROUS SITUATION

 

Q: What was the most dangerous situation during your trip?

A: I’d say this was probably when in close to zero visibility conditions we had switched on the autopilot and realised too late how close to the rock cliffs of the shore we had gotten. Engaging and disengaging the autopilot takes up to five minutes. For as long as the autopilot is still engaged, it is impossible to steer manually. So that was a very frightening situation, drifting at a fast rate towards the cliffs, while being unable to steer away from them for several minutes. The autopilot would always point us back towards the cliff. A very close call.

Q: Anything else comes to mind? Dangerous situations?

A: That far up North, with no help nearby, a lot of things can be quite dangerous. For example, on a foggy day or during a pitch-black dark night, if you slip or misstep and fall overboard, the chances that your buddies will find you alive and well are not great. Oh… and I almost forgot: we shipwrecked.

 

“SHIPWRECKED” – EMERGENCY BEACHING

 

Q: You what?

A: We kind of shipwrecked. Well, I believe the correct terminology for it is that we did an emergency beaching. In very strong winds off erroneously named Cape Hope, all three of our main anchors had been ripped off, so this was another case where we started drifting towards a dangerous shore. This time not a rock cliff, but a part gravel, part rocky beach, with hundreds of giant semi- and fully submerged rocks or boulders. Our skipper came up with the brilliant idea of pulling the emergency anchor, then throwing it in front of the boat. Again and again. This, together with hard rowing, made our boat move alongside, rather than straight towards, the coast in repetitive, pendulum-like, motions. That’s how we avoided the worst rocks.

 

 

 

THE DAMAGE TO THE BOAT

 

Q: So you averted all harm.

A: The double hull contracted a crack, more than one metre long, and water began getting into the front cabin. It took us five days to patch up the crack, before we set off to sea again.

 

BAILING WATER

 

Q: When you finally did set off to sea again, did the patch work or was there still water coming in?

A: Oh, we never expected the temporary patch to be entirely watertight. It had always been clear to us, that we’d have to do some bailing. What surprised us, was perhaps how MUCH bailing was required at the beginning. I’d say, for the first few miles, it was up to twenty litres a minute. It was a huge relief when gradually, with debris like seaweed, algae, mud, and sand settling into the crack, there was less and less need for bailing. For vast stretches of our 400km journey to the nearest settlement, we only checked once an hour. Sometimes during those checks we found that no bailing was required. Most of the time we had to bail out 20 to 50 litres, occasionally more. Mind you, this is not talking about the cabin proper, but the space below the cabin floor. Except for around the time of the emergency beaching, when about 150 litres got inside the cabin, there were no further instances of water inside the cabin.

 

WERE YOU WORRIED THAT THE HULL MIGHT BREAK APART?

 

Q: Were you not worried that the hull might break apart?

A: Yes, very much so. Our skipper said, he was very worried about the structural integrity of the hull.

 

UNCHARTED WATERS, NO GPS, NO COMPASS, NO FORWARD-POINTING SONAR

 

Q: Is it correct to say that during your six weeks at sea you were going through largely uncharted and badly charted waters without reliable GPS or compass and without forward-pointing sonar?

A: Indeed.

 

RUNNING AGROUND

 

Q: Did you ever run aground?

A: Yes, quite regularly. Once we ran properly aground on submerged rock pillars three times within minutes.

 

TEMPERATURE

 

Q: How cold was it?

A: When you look at the mere numbers, not that cold, really: almost constantly around freezing point, usually just slightly above. The weird thing is, that freezing point feels outrageously cold, if you are soaked to your bones with water, from rain and sea spray, it is windy and you are exhausted. It is okay while you are on the oars. But as soon as you stop rowing, you get extremely cold very quickly. You might only wear underwear under your oils, while rowing, but then put on ten further layers of clothing as soon as you go on polar bear watch. And you’d still constantly be cold. Since returning from the Arctic, I never really warmed up again so far. Despite the central heating being on full blast, I walk around the flat in full gear, including a thick down jacket and a beanie. And I’m still cold. Apparently this has happened to others before, and it will go away after a few months.

 

TEAM DYNAMICS

 

Q: Were there ever any tense moments in terms of team dynamics? Did you ever have any fights?

A: Considering the enormous stress we often were under, I think all four of us feel that it went unexpectedly well. No fights. Sometimes a snarky remark or a disapproving grunt, or simply complete radio silence for a few hours.

Q: So you are all still friends?

A: Yes.

 

 

 

WHAT WAS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL MOMENT?

 

Q: What was the most beautiful moment during your time in Canada?

A: Overall? I think it would have to be when we arrived in Paulatuk, the end point of our journey. It was a feeling, that’s hard to describe. Having made it to that point. Not having let the team down. There was some sadness, not having made it to the Beaufort Sea, which was still 350km away. Not having completed the whole Northwest Passage (only 3,400 out of 3,750km, 1,450 out of 1,800km of the second leg). But, overwhelmingly, it was gratitude. Relief. A tiny bit of pride perhaps. Most importantly, the thought that I would see my lovely wife again soon. My family and friends. And, to a lesser extent, that I’d be on dry land, safe, warm, well-fed.

During the expedition, I mean, before we reached Paulatuk, I think the most beautiful moment was when we all sat around the campfire on the first night after the emergency beaching, exhausted, on that stretch of the Northernmost end of the American continent, glad, that we hadn’t perished. Eating some hot food. Talking. Mostly silence. And warmth and light from the fire.

Other highlights were the Northern Lights, which were actually South of our location, and the really long rows, up to more than 100km in a single push. When you finally arrive at your destination of the day, you are euphoric. Add to that a welcome committee of three dozen cheerful seals and an out-of-this-world sunrise or sunset, and that can really make your day.

 

HOW IS IT BEING BACK HOME?

 

Q: So what was the reaction among your family and friends, when you arrived back home?

A: My wife and I were over the moon to see each other again, and the expedition certainly made us even fonder of each other, if that’s possible. My family and two or three of my closest friends were quite pleased that I was back, too. The rest of the world didn’t really take much notice. Which is fine by me. I didn’t do any of this for anyone else or for any recognition. I did this one for me. And I’ll be eternally grateful to Ellie for having let me go on this adventure of a lifetime.

 

Still interested in more information about the expedition? You’ve read this short version. This means that the long version mentioned at the beginning of this short version, will be repetitive in parts. In order to avoid this repetition, I’ve created a third version of the Q&As which is more or less identical with the standard long version, except that it excludes everything already mentioned in the short version at hand. The only way to get every last bit of information, though, is the standard Long Version.

 

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)

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