Saturday 01 September
We departed the beautiful bay we anchored at for the night in the Tasmania Islands before dawn, at 0400 hrs. Much of the region is named by the early explorers and they generally focused on the major landmarks and significant sea areas. As a result, there remains a huge amount of unnamed, and in many cases still uncharted areas. I have always intended to claim a few of these places for myself (not literally!), therefore the nights anchorage at 71° 14.9' N 096° 32.3' W is now named: "Sophie Louise Bay", Tasmania Islands (named 1st September 2013 by Richard Nicolson).
The first person to successfully transverse the North West Passage was Roald Admundsen, the Norwegian explorer between 1903 & 1906. By coincidence, he was in exactly this area on 31/8/1903, one hundred and ten years ago and made the following observation: "The area to the south of the Tasmania Islands changes from high, rocky hills and cliffs with luxuriant vegetation to stern and bare land". He of course was heading west, we are heading east so we have done the 'stern and bare land" and I am now looking forward to the "luxuriant vegetation"!
During the morning we passed "Cape Sir F Nicholson"… once again a wonderful name, but no relation to me (spelling inaccuracy!).
The Bellot Strait is about 16 miles long and runs East - West. At the west end is Franklin Strait (with Peel Sound to the North), At the east end is Prince Regent Inlet. The strait itself dissects Somerset Island and the Boothia Peninsula to the south.
We were up against a theoretical time race to hit the Bellot Strait at the right time of slack water. This is the time that is is recommended to pass through the strait, though in reality so much is determined by wind conditions, ice conditions and sea state that it is fairly arbitrary and there is no clearly definitive right time. The major navigable danger is at the east end where a rock lies in varying states, depending on the tidal water level, from being fully submerged to clearly visible. Magpie Rock was clearly concerning Bob. He pored over his notebook with pilotage book in one hand, making the relevant time allowances (UTC to local) to calculate when would be the best time to arrive at the Bellot Straits. This he backed up with Karen and myself, before we all would recalculate to check, and again come up with an new "best time to arrive" calculation. The tides, like the magnetic variations, in this part of the world are often confusing.
We approached Bellot Strait at lunchtime on Sunday 1st September. In an odd way it marked a significant step in our adventures, in addition to the change of landscape; it closes us in on Greenland and the Eastern end of the NW Passage. The coastline depicted a patchwork quilt of brown rock, moss green tundra and icing sugar snow. Shore ice clung to the bays, nooks and crannies of the coastline. As we motored down the middle of the strait, which is between 1/2 and 1 mile wide, the tide was clearly assisting us as we were moving at times in excess of 9 kts, though at the east end the tidal influence was significantly more (up to 5 kts) and we throttled back the engine to slow, but maintained enough to hold steerage.
The crew were all on deck, and I felt as it was a significant milestone in then passage, I would get the "Ellen Macarthur Cancer Trust" flag out. With a backdrop of the strait I got a number of shots for posterity. The south side of the strait has a long, level promontory and as you come to the end, the geology colours become a vibrant mix of reds and browns. The cliffs drop into sited channels and valleys, some with glacial valleys, others more pronounced by water erosion.
Magpie Rock appeared to the south of the strait exit (on the starboard side)… clearly visible and amplified with a stranded growler sitting atop! Once past we motored the final few miles to Fort Ross and its adjacent "Depot Bay". As we turned to Port into the bay we were greeted by the sight of "Polar Bound" and "Anna" anchored off.
Forecasts indicated a short stay at Fort Ross… oh how wrong things can be and how quickly the weather and ice conditions change in this remote corner of the world.
Soon after anchoring in Depot Bay we went ashore. The landscape is rocky, with areas of tundra and very light vegetation, and areas of muddy clay where small streams run to the shore. Fort Ross has two "huts" on the foreshore. One was the home to the Hudson Bay Company staff based here. Once a home, now in an abandoned state, the windows broken, the interior a mix of peeling wall paper, the skeletons of two armchairs, a rusting cast iron cooker range. The second hut, known as the refuge (sign on the door "Key under stone at NE corner of hut") has been well maintained. With storm proof shutters, built in bunk beds, a cooker and stove it is a meeting point of vessels passing these shores. The pine lined walls are littered with the graffiti of past crews and their vessels. These same crews leave books and stores for others to swap with (I have my eyes on the Heinz Baked Beans!). The two buildings are linked by a path, that was cleared from the ground with the available rocks creating a kerb. A desolate flag pole stands proud, its wooden hulk showing claw marks of passing Polar Bears.
We met up with David Scott Cowper and his crew, Jane from Polar Bound and Peter & Pelle, the Swedes from the Colin Archer inspired steel ketch "Anna" whilst ashore. After saying our 'hello's' the Dodo's Delight crew headed back to the boat… only for Karen to realise she had mislaid one of her cameras, which despite a thorough retracing of footsteps couldn't be found.
As the night drew in the wind increased. The mast and rigging crying out and the sea state becoming quite steep. Just as we were turning in for the night I went o deck to check our anchor and realised we once again had closed the shore. Furthermore, by this time the wind had swung to the south - the only unprotected see of the bay. The situation wasn't urgent, and as it was now snowing, and the wind-chill was creating some seriously low temperaturescold, I suggested that everyone got properly clothed whilst I started the engine. There was a little 'crew' discontentment as those on the bow were focused on retrieving the anchor, chain and anchor chum (in our case a second 20 kg anchor run down the chain on a rope to reduce the chain angle to allow a better bite into the seabed), whilst the helmsman and one other crew member were more focused on things going on in the cockpit, thereby making the foredeck crews job of recovery harder as steerage and boat speed were not being focused on. Eventually all the ground tackle was recovered and we motored out of Depot Bay into a short, sharp head sea and bitterly cold wind, leaving the Swede's engaged in the same activity but deciding to re-anchor in the same vicinity.
We moved round to the east of Somerset island to an uncharted inlet where, after numerous attempts to find holding re-achored, eventually getting back to our bunks and warmth. Throughout this episode, David laid blissfully asleep, though we did find later that Steph has said he hadn't been needed! We went to sleep as the wind abated. The one thing about the Arctic is the speed and intensity by which the weather can change.
Richard
©. Richard Nicolson 2013
We departed the beautiful bay we anchored at for the night in the Tasmania Islands before dawn, at 0400 hrs. Much of the region is named by the early explorers and they generally focused on the major landmarks and significant sea areas. As a result, there remains a huge amount of unnamed, and in many cases still uncharted areas. I have always intended to claim a few of these places for myself (not literally!), therefore the nights anchorage at 71° 14.9' N 096° 32.3' W is now named: "Sophie Louise Bay", Tasmania Islands (named 1st September 2013 by Richard Nicolson).
The first person to successfully transverse the North West Passage was Roald Admundsen, the Norwegian explorer between 1903 & 1906. By coincidence, he was in exactly this area on 31/8/1903, one hundred and ten years ago and made the following observation: "The area to the south of the Tasmania Islands changes from high, rocky hills and cliffs with luxuriant vegetation to stern and bare land". He of course was heading west, we are heading east so we have done the 'stern and bare land" and I am now looking forward to the "luxuriant vegetation"!
During the morning we passed "Cape Sir F Nicholson"… once again a wonderful name, but no relation to me (spelling inaccuracy!).
The Bellot Strait is about 16 miles long and runs East - West. At the west end is Franklin Strait (with Peel Sound to the North), At the east end is Prince Regent Inlet. The strait itself dissects Somerset Island and the Boothia Peninsula to the south.
We were up against a theoretical time race to hit the Bellot Strait at the right time of slack water. This is the time that is is recommended to pass through the strait, though in reality so much is determined by wind conditions, ice conditions and sea state that it is fairly arbitrary and there is no clearly definitive right time. The major navigable danger is at the east end where a rock lies in varying states, depending on the tidal water level, from being fully submerged to clearly visible. Magpie Rock was clearly concerning Bob. He pored over his notebook with pilotage book in one hand, making the relevant time allowances (UTC to local) to calculate when would be the best time to arrive at the Bellot Straits. This he backed up with Karen and myself, before we all would recalculate to check, and again come up with an new "best time to arrive" calculation. The tides, like the magnetic variations, in this part of the world are often confusing.
We approached Bellot Strait at lunchtime on Sunday 1st September. In an odd way it marked a significant step in our adventures, in addition to the change of landscape; it closes us in on Greenland and the Eastern end of the NW Passage. The coastline depicted a patchwork quilt of brown rock, moss green tundra and icing sugar snow. Shore ice clung to the bays, nooks and crannies of the coastline. As we motored down the middle of the strait, which is between 1/2 and 1 mile wide, the tide was clearly assisting us as we were moving at times in excess of 9 kts, though at the east end the tidal influence was significantly more (up to 5 kts) and we throttled back the engine to slow, but maintained enough to hold steerage.
The crew were all on deck, and I felt as it was a significant milestone in then passage, I would get the "Ellen Macarthur Cancer Trust" flag out. With a backdrop of the strait I got a number of shots for posterity. The south side of the strait has a long, level promontory and as you come to the end, the geology colours become a vibrant mix of reds and browns. The cliffs drop into sited channels and valleys, some with glacial valleys, others more pronounced by water erosion.
Magpie Rock appeared to the south of the strait exit (on the starboard side)… clearly visible and amplified with a stranded growler sitting atop! Once past we motored the final few miles to Fort Ross and its adjacent "Depot Bay". As we turned to Port into the bay we were greeted by the sight of "Polar Bound" and "Anna" anchored off.
Forecasts indicated a short stay at Fort Ross… oh how wrong things can be and how quickly the weather and ice conditions change in this remote corner of the world.
Soon after anchoring in Depot Bay we went ashore. The landscape is rocky, with areas of tundra and very light vegetation, and areas of muddy clay where small streams run to the shore. Fort Ross has two "huts" on the foreshore. One was the home to the Hudson Bay Company staff based here. Once a home, now in an abandoned state, the windows broken, the interior a mix of peeling wall paper, the skeletons of two armchairs, a rusting cast iron cooker range. The second hut, known as the refuge (sign on the door "Key under stone at NE corner of hut") has been well maintained. With storm proof shutters, built in bunk beds, a cooker and stove it is a meeting point of vessels passing these shores. The pine lined walls are littered with the graffiti of past crews and their vessels. These same crews leave books and stores for others to swap with (I have my eyes on the Heinz Baked Beans!). The two buildings are linked by a path, that was cleared from the ground with the available rocks creating a kerb. A desolate flag pole stands proud, its wooden hulk showing claw marks of passing Polar Bears.
We met up with David Scott Cowper and his crew, Jane from Polar Bound and Peter & Pelle, the Swedes from the Colin Archer inspired steel ketch "Anna" whilst ashore. After saying our 'hello's' the Dodo's Delight crew headed back to the boat… only for Karen to realise she had mislaid one of her cameras, which despite a thorough retracing of footsteps couldn't be found.
As the night drew in the wind increased. The mast and rigging crying out and the sea state becoming quite steep. Just as we were turning in for the night I went o deck to check our anchor and realised we once again had closed the shore. Furthermore, by this time the wind had swung to the south - the only unprotected see of the bay. The situation wasn't urgent, and as it was now snowing, and the wind-chill was creating some seriously low temperaturescold, I suggested that everyone got properly clothed whilst I started the engine. There was a little 'crew' discontentment as those on the bow were focused on retrieving the anchor, chain and anchor chum (in our case a second 20 kg anchor run down the chain on a rope to reduce the chain angle to allow a better bite into the seabed), whilst the helmsman and one other crew member were more focused on things going on in the cockpit, thereby making the foredeck crews job of recovery harder as steerage and boat speed were not being focused on. Eventually all the ground tackle was recovered and we motored out of Depot Bay into a short, sharp head sea and bitterly cold wind, leaving the Swede's engaged in the same activity but deciding to re-anchor in the same vicinity.
We moved round to the east of Somerset island to an uncharted inlet where, after numerous attempts to find holding re-achored, eventually getting back to our bunks and warmth. Throughout this episode, David laid blissfully asleep, though we did find later that Steph has said he hadn't been needed! We went to sleep as the wind abated. The one thing about the Arctic is the speed and intensity by which the weather can change.
Richard
©. Richard Nicolson 2013
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