Angie Butler* recalls peace poles and polar bears and losing her way in the Arctic with a Japanese lady called Kumi.
Like all great travelers, I have seen more than I remember, and remember more than I have seen. Benjamin Disraeli.
That being the case it is with some haste I must write how I came to stand on the beach of an Inuit settlement in the Canadian Arctic radiating vibrations of world peace and harmony with a Japanese lady called Kumi.
As it happens a rather more exciting event was gripping the 1500 inhabitants of the Inuit community Pond Inlet, which sits 644 km above the Arctic Circle. The department of Fisheries and Oceans had given the nod and the local fishermen had just harpooned a 14 meter Bowhead whale, their first hunt since 1910. Strictly speaking it should have been within the 11 meter regulation but when it’s the first whale hunt in your waters for a 100 years, who’s counting. Their ship had come in as it were and everyone was elated with their share of highly regulated, prized whale meat, to be distributed to the surrounding communities.
Our ship had also come in. We were on a journey to explore the glorious bays and inlets of the High Canadian Arctic, cross the spectacular Baffin Bay and sail down the west coast of Greenland. The emphasis being on ‘expedition’ rather than ‘cruise.’
On board we were met with the ship’s 84 enchanting crew of 18 nationalities. Do not let ‘expedition’ become muddled with ‘cruise’. The service was outstanding, the meals a cornucopia of gastronomique splendor, a comfortable lounge with tea, coffee, hot chocolate and patisseries on tap and not forgetting the well stocked bar. Our cabins were daily primped and pouffed with the added touch of a ‘choccie’ on the pillow, to welcome us after a hard day in Polar Regions.
Some consternation was felt amongst the staff due to the excellent cuisine. We were expected to be on the bridge or the decks, in woolly hats and all weather gear, binoculars at the ready looking out for walruses, polar bears and elusive narwhals, not licking the remnants of crème brulee from our spoons.
They need not have worried. Within a day of commencing our journey, Harp seals popped up between the ice flows and we knew we were in polar bear country. The only time I had seen a polar bear was in a zoo, when I was six years old. I stared both appalled and fascinated at the sight of the biggest land predator on earth pacing around a concrete pit, rocking from side to side in its demented state. Now I had the opportunity to see the King of the Arctic ‘au naturale.’ We took to the zodiacs, 10 to a boat and skimmed around the ghost like icebergs contorted by wind and water. Suddenly two white heads were spotted in the deep blue water, they swam towards an ice flow, pulled themselves onto it with alacrity, shook the water off their vast yellowish fur coats and with not so much of a backward glance, slowly loped away. A few days later our Captain nudged the ship towards an ice flow the size of a football pitch upon which a vast male polar bear paced, sniffing the air before dropping on its haunches, folding its two front paws, one on top of the other and stare back at us. It was the second sighting of 15 polar bears sightings of our 12 day trip and you could not tire of them, they were utterly mesmerising. I have witnessed elephants crashing through the bush, leopards dangle from trees, rhinos in combat, hippos wallow in shallow waters, but nothing compares to seeing a polar bear in its natural surroundings. It is a beast that surpasses all beasts, the only one that actively hunts humans, weighing well over 500 kg and 3 meters tall. A magnificent solitary king of all it surveys in an environment that is harsh beyond our imaginings.
We spotted walrus, impressive as they are ugly. The males can weigh up to 1,800 kilograms, vast blubbery bodies, supporting a bristled snout and one meter tusks – a veritable smorgasbord of meat, fat, skin, blubber and ivory for the Inuit hunters.
When we were not eating we were scanning the seas, the cliffs and icebergs and day by day we ticked off our list of wild life, Musk Ox (think buffalo crossed with hairy goat and delicious to eat) Arctic hare, Bearded, Ring and Harp seals, Humpback and Fin whales and the elusive narwhal, the unicorn of the sea.
A stirring morning was spent on Beechey Island at the gravesides of three crewman of Sir John Franklin’s expedition of 1845 in his attempt to traverse the Northwest Passage. The fate of the 128 men on board the two ships, the Erebus and Terror is unknown other than it was cruel and drawn out. In the height of summer it is a dark, windswept, barren wasteland of mountain scree, to be there during the grasp of winter must have been tortuous.
Between on-board presentations and discussions (no rest for the gluttonous) we were taken by zodiacs across bays and inlets and deposited on the tundra. There was a choice of serious hiking with the ‘charger’ group, snapping away with the ‘photographer’ group or for the more leisurely types, meandering with the ‘contemplative’ group. On one day, unexpectedly, we acquired a ‘swimming’ group. The most hardy and deranged passengers plunged into the Arctic Ocean and splashed about for all of 90 seconds.
This brings me to the northern tip of Baffin Bay, Pond Inlet and my incarnation of spreading world peace. All the passengers had been entertained by an Inuit cultural program given by the locals consisting of an extraordinary rendition of throat singing, drumming and acrobatics. The Inuit communities are caught suspended between an older generation looking back to a nomadic, traditional life empathic with a stark, harsh environment and the modern world that has brought housing, education and the Internet.
That aside Kumi had brought a Peace Pole all the way from Japan. A four-sided pole with ‘may peace prevail on earth’ imprinted in four languages on each of its sides. Owing to the followers of Masahisa Goi, there are thousands of Peace Poles set up throughout the globe, and now there is one more, 830 km from the North Pole.
Whilst taking Kumi back to the beached zodiacs ready to transport us to the awaiting ship, we became momentarily lost. There was nothing for it but to send our peace vibrations out across the bay. We dropped our rucksacks and she motioned me to follow her in what would look to the outsider an exaggerated slow moving sign language ritual. We then bowed to each other and not long after, the route back to the awaiting zodiacs revealed itself.
Our Captain expertly navigated us through the pack ice as we crossed Baffin Bay and our first stop on the west side of Greenland. As we ventured into the ports of Uummannaq and Ilulissat (home of the infamous Jakobshavn Icefjord which supposedly ‘calved’ the iceberg that sank the Titanic) and pressed on to Sisimiut we soon realized these quaint settlements and villages with their colored houses snuggled along the coast can only be reached by sea or air. Much of Greenland lies beneath a vast ice sheet, albeit retracting and only the most adventurous dare forge the interior.
We certainly had our own taste of adventure and when it came to leave the vessel at the head of Sondre Stromfjord and take our charter flight to Toronto I asked myself, have I seen more than I will remember? No, because what I have seen I will never forget.
Soon I shall be packing my bags for the forthcoming Antarctic season. Another glorious polar region with all its surprises awaits, the Weddell Sea littered with icebergs, galumphing Elephant seals and the swooping albatross, although somehow I doubt there will be a penguin fashioned from towels on my pillow.
*Angie Butler is one of the founding members of Ice Tracks Expeditions.