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At last! Snorri reaches the Arctic Circle.
Log Date: July 10, 1998
Author: Homer Williams 10:20 p.m.
Click on the pictures below to view enlargements
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Hello all. Today is July 10, 10:20 p.m. Mid Atlantic time. We are presently passing in front of Sondre Stromfjord, the longest fjord in Greenland. It is 170 kilometers long and only 33.5 miles south of the Artic Circle. We are traveling at a pace averaging 8 knots, with a sweet following wind of 15 knots. The weather has decided to spare us this fine day, despite its continuous threats. We've found a rudder that does not toss the helmsman violently forward as soon as he breaches the sweet spot's boundary. Rob is even looking alive and moving around. Crew spirits are high. I think everyone is happy (including myself) to be nearing one of our common personal goals of the trip - to cross the Arctic Circle.
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Saw another whale today and Terry reported a dolpin sighting. Surfacing sea mammals are seeming to appear more often the further we progress north. (Well, I'd like to say more but this computer is my least favorite thing on this boat and I cannot spend a minute more near it right now.)
Log Date: July 11, 1998
Author: Homer - 7:30 a.m.
Hello, again. Last year, Elias said something about the wind blowing from the north everywhere above the Arctic Circle. This morning at 4:30, as we were heading inshore and toward our present anchorage, our steady southerly wind disappeared. It suddenly just collapsed and died, leaving us standing idle beneath the flopping sail and lending us a moment of quiet to appreciate how far we'd come since yesterday afternoon. And as far as we could figure, we were right on top of the line. It is nice having some way to recognize the point where the "Circle" is entered, in the absence of road signs or the bold red line that marks its boundary on a desktop globe.
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What a night of sailing that was. For once, a south wind that was not accompanied by rain. The clear weather, the perpetual daylight (it did get a little dusky between midnight and 3 a.m.), and the boldness of the coast meant that we were able to sail close to shore the whole time. From the beginning, as we skirted the sheer, glaciated towers of Hamborgerland, Greenland, delivered a spectacular procession of mountain tableaux. Jagged, snowy, bold, implacable, immense, cloud-drifted, clear, unfathomable.
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Kittiwakes flying off cliff |
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And as we roared before the wind at eight and ten knots, even with two reefs taken in the sail, it was easy to grasp the connection between the work that we do for this boat, in all its minute detail, and the heroic work that it does for us.
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Now we are about thirty miles south of Sisimiut. We pulled in partly to rest, partly
to give ourselves a chance to try "Rob's rudder," the one he spent most
of Thursday reshaping. The one we used today, which we are calling "John's rudder,"
worked beautifully. Progress!
It's raining. It's late. I really ought to go to bed.
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Homer catches a quick nap. It must be the exciting company he keeps on Snorri. |
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Onions will cure what ails you |
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