Arctic Solo Sail

The CAP’N LEM is tied to the wharf at the Cartwright Cannery. The workers take their break looking down and chatting with me. I tell my story, where I came from, where I’m going, how far, how long and the why of it. I try to tell it each time as though it were the first, with all the joy and enthusiasm I can put into it. No matter what I’m doing I stop and I talk to them. I answer the same questions over and over always remembering they are new to them. This is their home and I am the guest. I owe them my enthusiasm. It is the way I have of taking them with me.

Oh, but the waiting! Waiting when every cell in my body longs to be moving is so hard! No mail for the CAPN LEM today, July 30, 2009. I could hear the plane come in yesterday, then the wait. It takes time to get the mail from the airstrip to the post office, time to sort the mail, time to check the mail. Maybe tomorrow. But tomorrow became today and still no package so I do it all over again and wait.

It is now my own words must come back to me. I must deal with what is, not what I wished, not what I want, not what I like but what is. I must have the part and I must wait to get it. It’s as simple as that. To go on without it now that I have broken my autopilot a second time would be to trust in luck and I have no tolerance for luck. Luck would let me down and the third time it breaks I would not be able to fix it no matter how much epoxy I slather on it.

No, I’ll just wait. My only defenses against the agony of waiting… get busy. I clean down below. I check my food stocks. I fill up with water. I read. I write letters and I talk to anyone who looks over the edge of the dock.

Questions:

Dick asks: Is there any more anchorages or little towns as I go north? There are. I have to find my anchorages based on where I am and the topography of the land and islands. If I have to hove to overnight and drift it’s ok. The settlements are getting fewer and fewer. When I leave Cartwright I need to have everything to see me through. I do hope to pull into Resolute. Should the ice not let me through I must think about leaving the CAP’N LEM and try completing the voyage next year, but that is all future challenges. Right now, it’s get my part and get going north again.

[Update: Tommy just called and the tiller arrived on the afternoon mail drop!  He’ll be on his way tomorrow. -Ken]

I’ve arrived in Cartwright Labrador. I’m waiting on mail and a new autopilot having broken the old one twice now. I keep meeting the most interesting people. George and his wife Pete of Experience Labrador have been so kind in helping me get supplies and my mail. They are adventure magnates! It was there I met a couple out to drive around the world and two brothers set on crossing the Atlantic in a small power boat.

Yesterday I plucked 10,000 year old Greenland glacier ice from the sea for my cooler, again. This time I used the netting between the hull and the ama to corral a piece then proceeded to chop it up into manageable bits for the cooler. Ah, one less things to buy. Yes, it was singing its way into oblivion. Well, not really oblivion but a new life as salty seawater. Perhaps the sea is heaven to fresh water since it is always working its way there.

We talked of polar bears and how they have been seen this far south. I was reassured if I would leave them alone they would leave me alone. No worries there, I tell ya. I’ve seen polar bears in the wild and have no need or desire to see one close up.

My science officer, Wayne Roberts, has started feeding me ice information.

Unstranger asks about the term “in irons”: A sailor is said to be “placed in irons” when he has been taken below and locked to a bulkhead with chains or leg irons. So the term was used to descript a ship that fails to make the turn through a tack into the wind, comes to a stop and starts to actually sail backward. The same thing happens to a sailboat if the tack is not executed just right and results in lost time and ground. In a high wind it can be difficult to get going again in the right direction.

The question has come up again about the radar picking up icebergs. My Furuno really does a good job of picking them up but does not do so good picking up the bergybits that fall from the bergs. These are the ones I have to be very careful about as they are as hard as rocks.

If you think the CAP’T LEM is small check out www.CrossTheAtlantic.com , I can only let these guys, Ralf and Bob, speak for themselves. They passed me when I was anchored at the Indian Tickle. Then, I met them through George at Experience Labrador where we had a great time sharing adventures.

I’m not traveling at night as long as there are anchorages to be found. So tonight I’m anchored just north of Indian Tickle at latitude 53⁰ 34′ 01.2″N ~ Longitude 055⁰ 59′ 34.9″W.

It’s the icebergs or rather, the tears of the icebergs, the bergybits, I must avoid in the dark. All around the ancient giants that have drifted from Greenland to die grounded on the shores of Labrador are tears of diamond. This is not your last winter’s sea ice all soft and salty but ten thousand year old snowflakes pressured to perfection in ice, clear, clean, some the size of a car, easy to see, some the size of a dinner table, not so easy to see, but each as hard as any rock on shore and just as dangerous. They command respect and I give it.

When I have reason though, I sneak up on one very carefully to retrieve ice for my coolers. And it was while doing just that I discovered the most amazing thing about a bergybit…it sings! They sing as they die in the salty swell. It’s the sound of crystal glass being broken in the fireplace after a toast, but no quite. It’s a sound like the bubbles in a bubble bath popping, but not quite. It was the sound of the fizz of a soda pop, but… well, you get the picture. And I only had to touch it with my knife point for it to yield all the ice I needed.

What will I learn next?

Oh I must tell you this also. I saw my first Right Whales today. One alone and three in a pod.

The CAP’N LEM is in Labrador. Belle Isle is lost on the southern horizon haze. We’re rarely out of the sight of an iceberg. Getting underway this morning from my tranquil anchorage where never a rock of the boat woke me in the night, we picked our way around and out first the Miller Tickle and then the very narrow Antelope Tickle. How could I resist taking the CAP’N LEM thru a passage named Antelope Tickle?

I see on the large scale charts showing many of the small narrow passages are called “Tickles”. It must refer to the way the tide current ripples through. Captain Le mould have loved that, he being one always quick for a play on words.

So out we go into a gentle rolling North Atlantic swell. Our morning dolphins display their speed winning the race, no contest. In the distance I see a great moving shoal like I’ve never seen before. As we draw closer it becomes a mass of tightly packed sea birds all moving together. Closer still and they take flight almost as closely packed as they swam. I don’t know what they were but they were wonderful. The morning whale comes to the surface to greet us with a blow and that signals the end of the GOODMORNING CAP’T LEM show. Nature draws the curtain with a white fog over all while preparing the next act.

The fog is dense in width and shallow in height. A warm sun makes its way to my shoulders and is welcome. I never curse the fog but rather just deal with it. This time the fog brings a Southeast wind and the wind is energy. The wind turns the whole world underneath the CAP’N LEM.

At 1410, the odometer on the GPS shows we have traveled 3000 nautical miles since leaving Two Harbors Minnesota on April 6th. I don’t torture myself with how far I have to go.

Sunset and I find a little cove near Ship Tickle Island at Lat 52⁰ 43′ 53.2″N ~ Long 055⁰ 49′ 46.3″W. It’s a small fishing village.

So ends this day.

John asks: What have you done to prepare should a polar bear get on board?

Well, first, I’m more apt to be eaten by mosquitoes than a polar bear. I thought I could just feed him cookies and hope he gets full before I run out of cookies, but a handheld signal flare would be my first choice. No firearms on board. The customs guys would have eaten me.

– Ken here. Big thanks to George Barrett of Experience Labrador Tours. Tommy’s autotiller is working just fine – Tommy is a wizard with Epoxy – but just to be safe he decided he’d like a spare. Found one in stock here in Seattle and Express mailed it July 22nd, all the way to Cartwright, Labrador. George kindly offered his services delivering it to the marina there in Cartwright. Should get there middle of this week if all goes well.