Polar Voyages

by Gray, Gordon

  Trollfjord.

  Later that night I took a walk round the snow-covered, slushy, wet streets of Svolvaer as the ship stopped there for a couple of hours. The town was deserted on this cold and snowy October night, but it looked as though it was a really lovely spot. Tucked up against the mountains of the Lofoten Islands, it had its small harbour, pleasant town square, an interesting looking wooden church and cafes near the water. Another reason to come back, I thought, and do the northbound trip so I can see it in daylight! During the night we stopped at Stamsund and Bodo before we arrived at Ornes in a beautiful clear dawn.

  Blue Nose Certificates

  The sun was rising far beyond the white mountain tops, turning them black, and the eastern sky beyond was a brilliant blue. At about 11 a.m. we crossed the Arctic Circle, indicated by a large metal globe structure on one of the islands. Now we were back in the south. Later as we were having a coffee, the waitress came over.

  ‘The Captain requests that you and Miss Sheila go to the bridge’. We looked at each other.

  ‘What have you been up to?’ I asked Sheila. ‘I was wondering the same about you!’ she said.

  We need not have worried. In the tiny bridge with its big radar displays and the captain’s chair taking up most of the space, was the captain in his uniform, the officer of the watch and one of the waiters with a tray of wine.

  ‘Because you got on in Kirkenes,’ began the Captain, ‘you missed the ceremony for crossing the Arctic Circle, so we do it for you now.’ With that Sheila and I were presented our Blue Nose certificates. We shook hands with the captain and the OOW, and were offered a glass of wine to celebrate the event. How very civilised and thoughtful! We were both very pleased that the captain took so much trouble for just two passengers. We stayed and chatted about the trip and the weather, and enjoyed our wine before thanking the captain and leaving them to their bridge.

  As we sailed south with further stops at Nesna and Sandessjoen, the winter turned to autumn. The hills were now coloured with reds and browns, and the snows had retreated to the higher slopes. The sun seemed warmer too. At Bronnoysund we had about an hour to go ashore. It was a beautiful, peaceful Sunday afternoon, and I walked along the quay and up through the town and to a small marina. I caught up with Sheila on the way back. She had been window shopping. Sheila spends her time on board sketching and painting the passing scenery, but refuses to show anyone her handiwork. Chris likes just sitting in the lounges chatting and knitting. She did not bother coming ashore but always wanted to know what we had seen or done when we got back.

  The polar bear watches from above.

  A glimpse of the new ships

  That evening was the captain’s dinner. It was a fine affair with complimentary wine. A party spirit descended and we all enjoyed the evening. As Chris does not drink she gave me her wine. A starter of scallops was followed by roast beef and then a raspberry soup! (That’s what the menu said!). We were finishing dinner when we realised that we were docking in Rorvik. As we secured, today’s northbound Hurtigruten, the Richard With, appeared around the corner. I went ashore to watch. She was 11,000 tons and seemed huge. She berthed without fuss directly ahead of Lofoten. Her black and red hull and bows dominated the dock and Lofoten was dwarfed by her. In spite of her size, the Richard With, named after the founder of Hurtigruten, is far from the biggest ship in the fleet. The latest trio of Midnatsol, Finnmarken and Trollfjord were the biggest ships in the fleet at 15,000 tons.

  As both Lofoten and Richard With were staying there for an hour, we were allowed to go on board the Richard With and have a look around. What a contrast with Lofoten! On the Richard With the large, wide gangway was deployed hydraulically, as was the huge ramp for cars that opened alongside it. No need for cranes here. The fork-lift truck just drove inside the ship. On board, she was a gleaming floating palace of modern polished decor, chandeliers, glass display cases, expensive gifts, shops, bar areas and even a night club. A big and comfortable looking dining room was situated at the stern and took up most of the rear of the ship. This was a cruise ship, Lofoten was a mail boat. It was that simple. If I ever take my wife on this trip, then this was the ship for her.

  The Southern Ports

  Our next call was Trondheim and a three-hour stop, the longest of the trip, allowed time for a pleasant walk around the town, which is dominated by its lovely cathedral. Trondheim was the home of Eric the Red, who founded the Viking communities on Greenland. The town is situated at the head of a lovely wide fjord and many miles from the open sea, but has been a major trading town on the Norwegian coast for centuries. Many old merchant’s buildings, homes and warehouses built alongside the river have been preserved as well as many local streets and houses – they all add to the history of the town. All are wooden and painted in the lovely pastel colours of pink, blue and green that Scandinavia does so well.

  A long and pleasant morning sail down the Trondheim Fjord finally brought us back out to the open sea where we found a fresh breeze and a few white horses; Lofoten relished the change and rolled gently along as we headed for Kristiansund. This seemed a charming town. It appeared to be built on an island, with the town centred round the attractive port area on the landward side. A number of graceful, high concrete arch bridges seemed to link it to other islands and the mainland. Many different types of ships clustered round the busy docksides, from fishing vessels to oil supply ships, to ferries and small yachts. We only stayed a few minutes but by the time we left and headed out again, the earlier breeze had grown to a half gale and waves smashed against the ship’s side. A dinner of a fish soup, halibut steaks and prune mousse took our minds off the weather. Before we had finished dinner we had arrived at Molde on what was now another wet and dirty night.

  During the night we stopped at Alesund and Torvik, but I was up early for the last morning at sea and our arrival at the tiny village of Maloy. After the final call at Flora and some delightful autumnal scenery as we wove between the islands, we found ourselves heading up the Bergen Fjord for our final destination.

  Typical coastal hamlet.

  Arrival in Bergen

  Houses, lodges and chalets by the water appeared round every corner. There were small ones, large ones, some with boathouses and some with their own jetties. All looked neat and trim against the greens, russets and browns of the hills. Most of the passengers were on deck on what was now a lovely late-summer’s day. The sun shone, the sky was blue and Lofoten steered a straight track towards Bergen. We had sailed from winter into summer and it was almost warm again too. Chris and Sheila went below to pack and I leant on the rail and enjoyed the last few miles of this fantastic trip. We came under a suspension bridge and turned into the huge outer harbour of Bergen. Ahead was the old town with the mountain behind, the offshore supply ships docked along the quays, the ship repair yards and all the hubbub of the city. It seemed a different world from the one we were now used to of small villages and towns, one man on the quay and endless mountains. As the ship manoeuvred into her berth, the traffic noise from the city centre invaded the quiet decks. Our voyage on Lofoten was over. How much longer will she go on before she is retired? She will have been in service for fifty years in 2015. Not for a little while yet I hope, as I would love the chance to sail on her again. As an experience of life on the Norwegian coast as it used to be, it was superb, as a restful voyage and a chance to relax, it was brilliant.

  View from cabin porthole.

  We docked on time and as usual, without fuss, at the modern Hurtigruten terminal in Bergen. Designed for the new, large ships, the terminal towered over Lofoten, which looked a little lost as she sat quietly at the quay. The telescopic passenger walkway gantries that connect the terminal to the large ships sat uselessly high above. Lofoten’s stubby gangway, as always, was put straight from the deck onto the dockside. As we disembarked, I said cheerio to Chris and Sheila, who were staying in hotels near the airport tonight and had an early morning flight to London. I had a more leisurely start fo
r my flight back to Edinburgh, so I was booked into a hotel in the town centre. I found a taxi and climbed in.

  This had been a fantastic trip and one that I do intend to do again, but the other way. Whether I do it on Lofoten again, which is a super ship, or one of the new ships with Doreen, time will tell.

  CHAPTER 12

  Fram and Antarctica

  Our first visit to the ‘great white south’ was in 1993; we promised ourselves that one day, if we could, we would return to the Antarctic, in particular to South Georgia. Exactly twenty years later we managed to keep that promise. When returning to some places, they look and feel the same as the last visit, but in the Antarctic that is not the case. The ever-changing weather, the constantly changing light and vast amount of stunning scenery made us decide that we would have to try and go back. We knew that even if we retraced our exact steps from 1993, we would see the place in a totally different way with totally different impressions and memories to take home.

  This time we would sail to the Antarctic in the Norwegian ship, Fram, owned by the Hurtigruten Company. Fram was named after Nansen’s ship FRAM, in which he made his historic, Trans-Arctic ocean passage in 1893. Nansen believed in the theory that the arctic ice pack moved in a great circle across the Arctic Ocean; the theory was formulated after the remains from a ship, which had been wrecked in the ice of eastern Siberia, was discovered on the coast of Greenland. Nansen sailed along the Russian coast and allowed the ship to get frozen into the ice and be carried by the movement of the ice pack right across the top of the Arctic. It took three years, but the Fram finally emerged from the pack ice of Spitsbergen. In Norwegian Fram translates as ‘forward’.

  We sailed from Buenos Aires due south to the Falkland Islands, then across the Southern Ocean to South Georgia. From there the ship would sail down into the Antarctic, visiting the South Shetland Islands and the Antarctic Peninsula, before re-crossing Drake’s Passage to Ushuaia in Argentina, where we would disembark.

  We had a few doubts about sailing to the Falklands from Argentina, given the political shouting and gesturing that had recently taken place between the UK and Argentina. However, although UK flagged ships did have a few problems during the year and some were denied entry to Buenos Aires, Fram was a Norwegian ship and no such problems existed. In fact we had an Argentinian on board with us. One of the German groups on the trip had brought their own guide with them from Buenos Aires, a young guy, who was pleasant and charming to all and who had not been born at the time of the Falklands War. However, he fervently believed that the Falklands should belong to Argentina.

  MV Fram

  Fram was built in 2007, in Italy, for the Hurtigruten Company of Norway. She was designed as a coastal ferry for the Norwegian coastal voyage, along with her sister ships in the Hurtigruten line. She is 11,647 gross tons, and 114 m long. She is ice class 1A and has a service speed of 13 knots. She can carry 318 passengers, but this is limited on Antarctic voyages to meet shore landing requirements. She had been modified for polar expedition work with her ‘polarcirkel’ boats, as her specially designed small ‘zodiac’ boats are called. An especially fitted-out dock for boarding the boats extended from the ships side at sea level. Storage areas for the polarcirkel boats, maintenance areas, as well as a passenger changing area with numbered storage pegs for everyone’s boots and heavy polar suits, were all close to the boarding dock. This facility prevented wet mud and dirt being tramped from the shore back throughout the ship.

  The Fram is beautifully fitted out with bright, warm décor and beautiful artwork throughout. There are many paintings and models reflecting her polar pedigree and connections. Our cabin was spacious and functional with two single bunks, and although not luxurious by cruise ship standards, it was clean, had a big window and cosy bathroom – in short, everything we needed.

  Sailing

  We sailed from Buenos Aires at noon. Once clear of the harbour, the ship steamed out into the enormous River Plate. It was a beautiful, sunny day as we sailed down the buoyed channel of the Plate Estuary, passing the occasional merchant ship on its way up stream. The river here was so wide we could not see the other side, but the narrow channel kept us aware that sandbanks could not be far away.

  That evening, as we were finishing dinner, we felt the ship slowing and looked out to find that we could see the distant lights of Montevideo out to port. We were now at the mouth of the mighty River Plate. The pilot was heading ashore, leaving us to head out into the South Atlantic. At 13 knots it had taken ten hours to sail down the river from Buenos Aires.

  We sailed past the site where the German pocket battleship Graf Spee scuttled herself after being cornered by the Royal Navy during the Second World War. Somewhere out there was a buoy that marked the wreck site, but darkness prevented us from seeing it. Over the next few days as we sailed south in beautiful sunshine, with gentle, following breezes and a rolling sea, we got to find our way about the ship. We attended lectures on birds, whales, the story of the original FRAM, the Falkland Islands, as well as going on a visit to the bridge. The good weather put everyone into a relaxed and happy mood and as we cruised further south towards the colder weather and as the lectures continued, so our knowledge of the Southern Ocean and Antarctica grew. We attended fittings for foul weather gear and rubber boots and learnt the right way to board a polarcirkel boat.

  The Falklands

  The Falklands Islands are now well known as the scene of the 1982 Falklands War. Before then there were a number of people who could not tell you where they were let alone anything about them. They lie about 300 miles to the east of the southern tip of South America. The first recorded landing was by the English captain, John Strong, in 1690. The islands were then uninhabited and remained that way for many years but with England, France and Spain all making visits. However, the British eventually occupied the islands and in 1833 set up a garrison there to reassert Britain possession; the islands were declared a Crown Colony in 1840. Since then they have been inhabited by British people who made their living from ship repairs and sheep farming. Argentinian sentiment that the islands should belong to them festered until they invaded the islands in 1982. Long before the conflict between Great Britain and Argentina they were well known for their wildlife, particularly birds, fishing resources and sheep.

  I woke up and looked out of the porthole and I thought we were in the Hebrides. I saw hilly, heathery, misty islands with gorse bushes in bloom. Surely this was the Scottish islands, not the South Atlantic? In fact after a few days at sea, we had arrived at the western end of West Falkland, off Carcass Island. Carcass Island is named after HMS Carcass, which visited there in the late 1700s. We had arrived on a cold, breezy day, Fram anchored off a long, sweeping beach and we were taken ashore. The polarcirkel boats look like the usual rubber ‘zodiacs’ that most ships have for ferrying passengers, but they have rigid, tubular metal-side sponsons and a metal floor. They can only seat eight passengers, whereas the more common and larger rubber zodiac boats have rubber sponsons and can cram in as many as twelve or fourteen people sitting along the sides. The benefit of the polarcirkel boats was that they had a fixed structure at the bow which incorporated a set of steps down into the boat. To board it from the ship, the boat was nosed into the end of extended dock-platform and passengers simply walked down three steps into the boat. This was much easier and safer than the normal over-the-side zodiac loading routine. However, the rigid sponsons meant that these craft banged hard against the waves without any give, and made for a teeth-rattling ride in choppy seas. Zodiacs, with their soft rubber sponsons, bent, flexed and gave to the waves and made for a much more comfortable ride.

  Once ashore we really could have been in Scotland. The gorse was in full bloom, filling the hillsides with great clumps of bright yellow blooms. We followed our guides up to a house, set back from the shore, on a raised grassy area. Here, the lady of the house, Lorraine McGill and her husband Rob, had prepared a gigantic afternoon tea for their visitors. We all had tea,
biscuits and cakes in their house. She had cakes for all! There were scones, cakes, biscuits and cupcakes. We were told that that when a visiting ship was due, it is customary in the Falkland Islands for the local residents to make tea and offer it to the visitors in one of their houses. In fact, as Rob and Lorraine were the only inhabitants of Carcass Island, they seemed to have drawn the short straw! It was most welcome and very well received, but I do believe they were left with a lot of cake to eat!

  The Albatross Colony

  The following day, we were up early as we were going ashore at West Point Island. The island is home to the Napiers, whose family have lived here since 1879. The island is not far from Cutlass Island, at the western end of the Falkland Islands. The ship anchored in a small, well-sheltered bay called Hope Bay. We disembarked by polarcirkel boats at a small stone jetty and set off to walk past the house and up the hill at the back of the bay. At the top of the rise the landscape opened out and we could see rolling down-lands stretching away to the horizon. We followed the wide sheep trails along the hillside and across more open hills before, after about three quarters of an hour, we came up to a low pass called Devil’s Nose. Here, the hills came in and the tracks converged to meet at the end of a dry stone wall. We joined a muddy track that took us down beside an expanse of tall tussock grass. Once at the top of the pass, the valley started to drop away downhill and we could see the other side of the island with the sea in the distance.

  After about one hundred yards one of the guides, stationed at the end of the stone wall, stopped us, made a ‘shush’ sign, and pointed down into the grass. There, behind a large clump of tussock grass and sitting on an earth mound about a foot high, was a beautiful white albatross preening itself. We realised that we were now standing at the edge of a colony of black browed albatrosses. While not as big as the giant wandering albatross, the black browed is still a large and beautiful bird. The mounds of earth that formed the bird’s nests, were well down in the grass tussocks and only visible when we got close to them. The marked path for humans took us right along the edge of the colony with birds on their nests no more than two or 3 feet away from us.