Northwest Passage Expedition – daily update 22 August 2024

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.