Polar Voyages

by Gray, Gordon

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  Sketch map of Tierra Del Fuego showing the route of Marco Polo to Ushuaia, through the Beagle and Cockburn Channels then into the Straits of Magellan and on to Punt Arenas.

  We finally docked at Punta Arenas and left the ship. They wanted us off the ship so they could clean it for the next trip later that day and so we were taken for the afternoon to The Cape Horn Hotel. The ship organised a buffet dinner for us that evening at an out of town eatery before we were taken out to the airport for the overnight charter flight back to Miami, via Santiago. Unfortunately, everyone who ate the chicken dishes at the buffet went down with chronic food poisoning on th e flight. The aircraft toilets were blocked off as they were full and it then took over two hours before we could get off the plane in Miami as the US Port Health had to get the sick off to hospital and interview everyone else. Doreen and I had looked at the chicken but decided it looked dodgy anyway so left it alone. Thank goodness we did! We spent twenty-four hours in Miami and finally arrived home exhausted but elated after a real ‘trip of a lifetime’.

  Of all the places we visited and in spite of the fantastic ice caps, glacier fronts and mountains of Antarctica itself, South Georgia was the place that made the strongest impressions on me with its own climate, its history, the spectacular scenery and incredible wildlife. Now, there is a place I would really love to visit again.

  CHAPTER 7

  Professor Molchanov – NE Greenland

  Oh Greenland is a dreadful place,

  It’s a place that’s never green

  Where there’s ice and snow

  And the whale fishes blow

  And the daylight’s seldom seen.

  So goes one of the verses of a sea shanty about the Greenland whale fishery sung by whalers in the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. It is not a bad summary of Greenland in winter. It is a huge and inaccessible place to visit and parts of it are still virtually unknown to the outside world, in particular the east and north-east coasts.

  The Vikings discovered Greenland in about AD 1000 and settled along the green, southern tip and up the west coast, but the northern parts on both coasts remained virtually uninhabited. Apart from a thin coastal strip, Greenland is totally covered in a vast, deep, ice cap. This ice cap is thousands of feet thick and where it breaks through to the coast massive glaciers tumble down into the sea, often at the head of long, deep fjords.

  After the Vikings in the tenth century, the first European to venture up the east coast of Greenland was the English mariner Henry Hudson, of Hudson Bay fame. In the 1570s, in his ship the Hopewell, he was searching for the north-west Passage. Hudson named the area he was in at 73 degrees north as ‘Hold with Hope’ and this is the first English recorded place name in the area, although doubtless the earlier Thule and Inuit inhabitants had their own names. Hudson did not find the north-west Passage and on a subsequent trip in 1611, during another search for the north-west Passage, he worked his way up the west coast to the Baffin Bay area. There his crew mutinied and having overcome Hudson and the officers, they cast Hudson, his young son and seven men adrift in a small boat without food or water. They were never seen again.

  It was then not until the early 1800s, when Arctic whalers started to sail in the area, that any interest was taken. Among them was a Yorkshire whaler from Whitby, called William Scoresby. In the ships Baffin and Fame he sailed along the east coast in his search for whales, but in doing so he logged everything he saw. Explorers followed; Douglas Clavering and Edward Sabine separately explored the coast and the place names reflect their work. (Clavering Oy and Sabine Oy, for example). Oy is Inuit for island. The whalers continued to make discoveries and added new names as they went; Jameson Land and Liverpool Land, an area of high, jagged, mountain peaks and fjords that is totally unlike Liverpool and the Mersey estuary. After that, several expeditions under Swedish, French and Danish leaderships charted the north-east coast giving European names to the places as they went. From the west, the American, Robert Peary, spent twenty-three years exploring the north-west coast and, in 1892, got across the ice cap to Kap Bridgeman on the very northern tip of Greenland. It was Peary who proved that Greenland was an island with no connection to any land further north. In 1907, a Danish expedition team, led by Lt Johan Pater Koch, got to Kap Bridgeman from the east, so completing the exploration of the coast round Greenland.

  The Greenland ice cap was first crossed by Fridtjof Nansen and five companions in 1888. Since then, a few expeditions have crossed it, notably in 1988, when a multinational expedition which included a Russian glaciologist, Dr Victor Boyarsky, who we were to meet later, crossed the Greenland ice cap with dogs from the southern end to the north-west coast, (the long route) as a training exercise! They did this before they crossed Antarctica with dog teams in the 1989/90.

  One of the reasons that I was keen to visit the north-east coast was the fact that, apart from the early explorers and whalers, very few people had ever been there. I wanted to see the seas, mountains and fjords that were familiar to whalers like William Scoresby. Scoresby came from Whitby and was a whaler’s son who stowed away on his father’s ship when he was ten. He became not only a famous and successful whaling captain but a scientist of note, for his work carried out in the Arctic. On his voyages he recorded all the information he could on the weather, ice, whales and the land. In 1822, a year when the ice on east Greenland receded to leave clear water up to the coast, he explored over 400 miles of coast line charting and recording the features and giving them names including, of course Scoresbysund. It is actually named after his father. Scoresby put all his findings and narratives of whaling into a famous two-volume work called An Account of the Arctic Regions. I wanted to visit the seas described so graphically in the whalers log books where they recorded tales of their boats being capsized, whales lost, overwintering in the ice in leaky ships, men falling into the icy seas and all the daily perils of nineteenth-century Arctic whaling.

  The Trip

  I had read of a trip, the aim of which was to sail west from Spitzbergen across the remotest part of the Arctic Ocean and the Greenland Sea, along the southern edge of the ice pack and then down the north-east coast of Greenland visiting what fjord systems and sites it could dependent upon the ice and weather. The ship was then to cross the Denmark Sraight, head south and land in Iceland. This expedition is based on the Russian expedition ship Professor Molchanov, a converted Russian research vessel and able to carry about fifty persons.

  To join the ship for this trip we first had to get to Spitzbergen. We arrive in Longyearbyen, the main town in Spitzbergen, late at night after the flight from London via Oslo and Tromso. We are met at the airport by a tall, fair-haired young man, called Peter, who is over-enthusiastic and announces that he is our expedition leader. ‘Get your bags quickly! It is late we must hurry!’ A few of us look at each other with some concern. After getting our bags from the baggage area, we congregate around the bus and wonder what we are in for. The party are dropped off singly and in pairs at various hotels and hostels around the town. We noted that out leader was not for waiting to see if the customer was able to get into their hotel or not. As soon as they were off the bus with their bags he ordered the driver to drive off. Doreen and I are dropped off at an expedition hostel outside the town. The place is deserted and mostly in darkness apart from a girl in the reception area, who has waited just for us. Once she has given us our key she climbs onto her scooter and leaves for home. Our room is in a different building about 200 yards down the road. We find our way there and discover that the room has just one single bed. After a night with both of us crammed into this small single bed, we are up early to look round Longyearbyen before joining the ship.

  Professor Molchanov in the still waters at the head of Scorebysund, Greenland. Formerly a research vessel, this Russian ship makes an ideal expedition vessel.

  Map of north-east Greenland showing the route taken by the Professor Molchanov.

  On the way along the road to
the jetty, we talk to a Dutch couple, John and Margarete. John is a retired marine engineer in the merchant marine and has similar interests to myself. Margarete is a friendly and down-to-earth lady who allows nothing to go by without good reason. We discussed our arrival at the airport and the expedition leader’s behaviour. We agree it is not a good start. As we walk onto the jetty, having met up with some more of our fellow shipmates, all we can see of the ship is the top half of her white superstructure. The Professor Molchanov is not big. She was built in Finland in 1983 for the Russian Government as a polar and oceanic research vessel. She was 72 metres long and 1,753 tons.

  As soon as we are all on board we set sail. Our cabin is comfortable, but basic. We have an upper and a lower bunk, a small bench seat by a porthole, a desk and a bathroom with a shower. As we will only be in it for sleeping, it proves ideal, apart from the fact that the bunk is a bit on the short side for a tall fellow like me. The dining room is more ‘canteen messing’ than ‘haute cuisine’ but the food is simple but good and well cooked by the Russian cook. A small working deck at the stern, with a hydraulic crane, provides a good stowage and working area for the Zodiac rubber boats. The ship operates an open-bridge policy for passengers, which means that we are able to go on the bridge at any time. The skipper and watch-keeping officers, who were all Russians, are friendly and helpful and in spite of imperfect English they always try hard to answer any questions. We are relieved to learn that ‘I am the Expedition Leader’ Peter from last night, is not the leader, just the deputy leader. We meet the actual leader at the first briefing. He is a dour Dutchman called Rene.

  The trip across to east Greenland is uneventful. The ice edge that we hope to see is reportedly some 100 miles to the north at 81 degrees and it is deemed by Rene, to be too far out of our way to get to even though everyone on board is keen to see the edge of the pack ice. We start to get to know more of our fellow explorers. There are a number of Dutch people and they are good company and we strike up friendships with them. There is Derek and Anne from Salcombe. They are a charming, easy going and friendly couple. Even though Derek walks with a stick, he is an enthusiast for the old Brixham sailing trawlers and spends most summers on board one. We also have a Japanese film actress, who we are told is very famous in Japan, but of whom none of us have heard. She travels with two male companions and everywhere she goes, on board or ashore, she clutches a soft toy polar bear. It turns out to be the only polar bear we see on this trip.

  We spend our time on the bridge watching the Greenland Sea go by as we sail across a calm, empty ocean with just the odd small iceberg drifting in the sun. Because the ice edge was well to the north we hope that this means that most of the fjords are free of ice so we can visit parts of the coast normally cut off by the ice even in summer. Greenland is Danish and a large part of north-east Greenland is a vast national park and entry by non-Danish groups is not permitted. We need both a Dane on the trip and the permission from the Danish Government to land there. So, on our team, we have a Danish naturalist who has been asked to join the expedition to enable permission to be granted.

  One of the other passengers with whom we strike up a friendship is a Swede, travelling on his own, called Per Magnus. He is a warm and friendly guy who runs his own polar travel business in Sweden called Polar Quest. He is here as some of his clients are on the ship and he is also keen to see how this expedition, run by the Dutch, works out as he is planning to run his own expeditions to similar areas. Per Magnus is calm, sensible and very aware of peoples’ different needs and capabilities, and speaks easily and with confidence about running an expedition such as this. He gives us all a feeling of confidence. He naturally takes a very keen interest in the skills of our leaders on this expedition.

  Sirius Patrol

  Our land fall is Daneborg and we arrive there mid-afternoon on a dull but calm day. This area, even in summer, is very often ice bound. We anchor in an ice-free Young Sound. Here, low hills by the water quickly rise to high mountains as the fjord winds its way deep into the mountains. There are large patches of snow still lying on some of the hills and the higher mountains still have their white caps on, but the lower slopes and shoreline are all clear of ice. Daneborg is a Danish Marine camp, set up in 1950 and home to the ‘Sirius Patrol’. It is the only military dog sledge patrol anywhere in the world. The name Sirius is taken from the brightest star in the constellation of Canis Major and known as the ‘Dog Star’. From the station, the Marines carry out military surveillance and policing patrols throughout the year, round the whole of the north and north-east coasts, using dog teams in winter and boats in summer. The patrols are also a key part of keeping a military surveillance eye on what anyone else may be doing in the area. Greenland is on the route from Russia to the USA and in the Cold War there were concerns about what ambitions the Russians might have had for Greenland.

  Daneborg, home to the Danish Marine’s Sirius Patrol and their dogs. The ship lies at anchor just off shore.

  We go ashore there and meet some of the marines and their dogs. They have over a hundred dogs: big, strong Husky dogs, many of them bred at the station. The twelve or so marines live here for about two years at a time in modern, well-equipped huts that make up the camp. Needless to say, the whole camp has an aura of being well organised, as it has to be to survive without any outside contact for most of the year as well as carrying out the patrols and caring for the dogs. Their patrols consist of two-man teams with ten or eleven dogs to each team pulling one large sledge. As the sledges have to carry everything that the whole team is ever likely to need for many weeks at a time, including all the dog food, they can weigh between 300 and 500 kilos each. The patrols can often last up to four months; so the dogs are bred for endurance pulling rather than speed. These are not racing sled dogs but true beasts of burden. They are all highly trained and well cared for and all of them wanted to be petted and told how fine they were. At feeding time they all sit patiently by their bowls in their allocated spaces, with their food already down in front of them. When all the dogs have their bowls put out, then the marine gives a one-word command and the dogs are instantaneously head and shoulders into the bowls, eating furiously.

  On their patrols they also check that the emergency huts in the area are properly secure from weather and polar bear damage. If a bear can smell any trace of food it will try to break into the hut and a number have been found totally wrecked by bears. The huts we visit on the coast are all of a similar style and size. They can be used by hunters caught out in bad weather or anyone who needs an emergency shelter. They are small but big enough for two or three people to use in an emergency and equipped with just a stove for heat and cooking and some basic food. They have a stock of firewood and always a box of matches on the table with one projecting out of the box so anyone with frozen fingers can get hold of it easily to light the fire. There is normally a bottle of whisky there too and some blankets or fur pelts for warmth.

  Walks

  Our trip takes us down the coast with several ventures ashore seeing walrus, white Arctic hare and musk ox on the way. We go on a number of walks into the interior, walking in remote, empty valleys and on hills that few people have even seen let alone walked. At Clavering Oy, once we are ashore, the leader divides us into two small groups. One group is to head for a walk around a hill while the other group could wander along the shoreline or immediate hinterland at their own pace. The hill walk group are a mixed age group with a few who are definitely senior citizens and others who are not that naturally athletic. We all want to see what we comfortably can of the place. The young deputy leader, Peter, is to lead this walk. Some of the party ask him if he knows the route and if it is suitable for us as we are all wearing the wellington boots we needed for the wet shore landings from the Zodiacs and not proper walking boots. He assures us it will be fine. Our enthusiastic young friend then sets off up a 40-foot high scree slope of loose rocks and stones. We scatter for safety as loose rocks slither and fall down the slope, lan
ding and crashing all about us as he races for the top. We yell at him to stop but he is oblivious to us. This is not a good start. This splits up the group as we all have to wait until the loose rocks have stopped sliding and coming down on us before some try to follow him up the scree slope and others look for a better way round the hill. Once we have all got to the top we find that our leader has already set off across open ground, thick with clumps of tussock grass and wet, marshy areas. We let him race on and follow at our own pace enjoying the scenery and views. After a while he stops and, when we have caught up, he leads us up into the higher uplands where we do have fantastic views of the interior. A beautiful, wild, and empty valley seeming to stretch away forever, rushing streams pouring off the hills and musk ox grazing in the far distance by a wide rocky river. Beyond that the mountains loom and behind them the white flecks of the ice cap itself shine in the sunshine.