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Avon escapes... twice!
Log Date: August 12, 1998
Author: Rob Stevens
Location: Public Humiliation Bay, head of Chapell Inlet
Sightings: Drifting inflatable boat
Click on the pictures below to view enlargements.
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Rob again. It must be at least nine days since I've written. I was supposed to last night, but after finishing the dishes in the dark I had trouble coming up with a journal entry. (I definitely did worse than I thought, and had to wash them all over again this morning.) I considered writing about how some of the crew found Baffin foreboding and spooky, while I thought it was beautiful. (All land looks good to a person prone to seasickness, even a half-tide ledge.) Or about the iceberg-shaved ice and lemonade mix that we made into a tasty treat.
But this morning, I got up early to row to the one section of the northern shore that John G. and I hadn't walked - setting out to look for an outlet to Frobisher Bay. And had an adventure worth reporting.
We've sailed to the head of Chapell Inlet and can't find an outlet into Frobisher Bay. Some of us went ashore yesterday to explore the low tidal flats to look for an outlet, without success.
Actually, I was sure that there was no outlet to the bay, because Erik, "The Dane," was at the helm when we rowed by, and he said there was none. (By the way, since no one has seen him spread butter, is there anyone out there who has known him longer than three months?) While rowing the inflatable Avon boat along shore, I was thinking about Bjarni Herjolfsson, who first saw this coast, but didn't land on it. And about the explorers looking for the Northwest Passage. I thought about how, when I've considered their actions from the comfort of home, they haven't always made sense - but now that I'm "out here," I seem to have more insight into them. (At least, I think I do.) Anyway, just as "The Dane" had said, I saw that there was no outlet, so I turned back.
As I was rowing back, I heard what sounded like water running, and was surprised that I could have rowed past what seemed to be an outlet after all. I went to look, and sure enough, I saw that there was water running out off to the left, and that it was lower than the water level of our bay. So I stopped on a small island and climbed a rock to have a look with the binoculars.
I had only pulled the Avon ashore a little bit, because I wasn't expecting to go far or stay long, and I figured that if it did float, it would only be carried a few feet along shore by the current, then hit another rock and stay there. At least that was the plan. Then I realized that water was flowing in from the water off to my left and also going out the "outlet." But the outlet seemed to flow a few hundred feet and right back into the bay we were in!
Well, now the Avon started to float. No problem. Except that it didn't float right along shore, and it's amazing what a tiny little breeze can do. So all of a sudden, I take off my boots, pants, and long underwear as fast as I can, and start wading after the Avon, which looks like it might fetch up on the last rock. Now I'm holding my shirt up and wondering if I'm going swimming - realizing at the same time that the water off Baffin Island is colder than it is off Greenland. I'm also thinking that I left my clothes - and more importantly, the binoculars - near shore. And, "Boy, is this tide coming in fast!" Then I manage to get the Avon and row madly to shore, just before the tide gets my clothes.
Okay, I'm all dressed now and there are no witnesses to all this. Now, I'm rowing back to the boat, thinking again about how easy it is to second-guess those guys from the comfort of my home. I'm also thinking, "Oh, boy... I get to name this bay!"
I get to the boat, and find Dean under a tarp at the computer. The only other person who's awake is Terry, but he's in his early morning stupor - the one where he sits up in his sleeping bag and stares blankly towards the stern. (He probably would claim that he's "becoming one with the morning." I think that's a bunch of hooey and that all he needs is a cup of coffee, except that he doesn't drink coffee.) So I decide that I'll quietly get on board, and write "Private" on the chart.
"Embarrassment Bay II." I sharpen my pencil, write in the words and am quite pleased with myself. Terry is now up, looks over the stern and goes "Hunh!" I look over the stern and see that the Avon - which I had failed to tie up - was drifting away. For the second time this morning, I'm stripping down as quickly as possible. I ask Dean to pass me a life jacket, and now I'm standing on the rail, naked in a life jacket and thinking, "Boy that water is cold!" And, "Boy that Avon is getting far away!"
Terry asks what I'll give him to go get it, and I answer, "A couple of Hobnobs." Now he's thinking, "Boy, that water is cold." So I run to the bow where everyone else had been sleeping, to let out all the anchor line and get two oars. Soon Terry and I are rowing down on the Avon. John Abbott - who is now up for some reason - snags it. Whew!
Well to wrap it all up, I got my journal entry and this bay just went through the quickest name change ever. Now the chart reads "Public Humiliation Bay."
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