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| The Game | ||
Terry's polar bear rating goes up another notch
Log Date: August 13, 1998
Author: Terry Moore
Lat/Lon: N 62 36.05 W 64 53.66
Location: Some unnamed cove, Baffin Island
Sightings: Another polar bear
Click on the pictures below to view enlargements.
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My plan is to tuck into a little cove, assuming that there actually is a little cove there, the chart has not given me much reason to trust it these past days. I can see the wind ahead spilling over the cliff tops and slamming into the water near the entrance to our cove, so we tuck in a single reef on the fly in the likely event we are struck by some errant downdraft. As we slip into the mouth of the anchorage, the wind goes all over the place in rapid succession. From nothing to 25 knots, from ahead to astern, and we milk it for every inch before dropping the sail and grunting the last 50 yards under oars in the swirling air.
In the midst of this barely controlled madness of sheeting and cleating, bracing
and rowing, comes Doug's clear voice from the bow, where he is heaving the lead.
Doug: "Hey Terry, when you get the chance, have a look with the binoculars at
that white spot over there."
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Now I know everybody is probably getting pretty sick and tired of hearing about polar
bears, especially since the only proof we can muster is a photograph of a white lump
among many other white lumps on the shore. But you know what, that's tough, because
I haven't had my chance to spout off about it.
I have no idea what the population density of polar bears is on Baffin Island, but
I can't help but think that we are unusually blessed, or cursed I suppose, depending
on how you look at it, to have two of the three anchorages I have chosen here in
the New World also contain polar bears. It truly makes my whole year to see this
creature lumbering around on shore, thankfully showing a lot less interest in us
than we do in him.
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The mighty water hunters set out for hostile shores armed with everything but
guarantee of a safe return |
We have come a long way in our ability to think rationally about sharing this space with Ursa Maritimus since our first Monty Pythonesque experience of a few days ago (run away, run away!), but there is still the childlike fear of things that go bump in the night to accompany our naturalist observations.
When you hear that noise you are not sure you've ever heard before while on anchor/bear watch at two in the morning, you have the choice of grabbing 1) a pole with a flare tied to the end of it, 2) a Viking broad ax, 3) a boat hook, or 4) either Dean, Hodding, or John G., the keepers of the shotgun. I had this amusing image pop into my head one day while we were still in Greenland. How funny it would look from afar to see nine skinny men as far up in the rigging of a Viking ship as they could get, while a polar bear rummaged around on deck. Made me snicker at the time; I'm not sure I see the humor in it now.
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The south wind that has kept us from venturing out of our snug anchorage has laid down quite a bit in the last couple of hours, and I am hoping that by first light it will have shifted into the northwest, as this low moves away from us.
If it sounds like I know a lot about weather, well, I wish I could in good conscience let you believe that. I do have a good rudimentary knowledge. Actually, my life is made much easier by Michael Carr at Ocean Strategies, who has taken an active interest in our expedition and is providing us with forecasts. It is amazing to me how far we have come since keeping an eye on the weather meant simply keeping an eye out to weather (i.e. upwind).
That, your barometer, and your own experience were what let you know what was in store for you meteorologically speaking, and those educated guesses were good for a few minutes to a day or so out. Now, I can e-mail Michael our local weather conditions, and with almost ridiculous accuracy (we are talking about the weather after all), he tells me what to expect for the next couple of days in the way of wind speed and direction.
This may sound like cheating, given the nature of the voyage, but the responsibility I feel to make sure we all live through this weighs pretty heavily, whether we are talking about polar bears, Homer's socks, or raging gales. In any event, if we do get our wind shift, it's a pajamas start for us, next stop Resolution Island. Or if the wind holds, maybe even across Hudson Strait to Labrador.
I'm not really sure why I feel this way, since we have as far to go yet as we
have come thus far, but I will breath a huge sigh of relief when we hit Labrador's
shore. In our own backyard almost.
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