Iced In…

I’m writing this from the safe, protected and ice-free harbor at Gjoa Haven.  We dropped hook here last night at 2:30 a.m., and never have I been so glad to hear the engine shut down.  Two days ago we powered into thick, impenetrable ice which just as quickly closed in around us. What was suggested would be 2/10ths coverage was actually 9/10ths coverage.  At one in the morning we completely ran out of options. We would find a lead, then force our way down to it at 1-2 kts, sometimes over and through the ice, only to find that what we thought was a lead had completely frozen over, thus forcing us to find a new lead.

Making our way through this solid ice barrier was beyond nerve-wracking in that the protestations from the ice were heard in the forms of shrieks, screeches, explosions and deep powerful shudders. If any of the ice bits found their way to our exposed stabilizers, propellor or rudder the potential damage could have bordered on the unthinkable. Time and again we’d fight for 500 yards, only to have it taken from us at the last minute, finding that the lead ahead had closed in the 10 minutes we’d been trying to get to it. Bagan had taken a complete battering all day long and when we found she was inexorably trapped. Not being able to move forward or backward we shut down the engine and anchored onto a floe, 1 ½ miles from shore.

In 17 hours we had traveled 18 miles. We tried to sleep. The ice was firm enough to walk on and the next morning we ventured out onto it by foot to inspect the damage, which to my great relief was minimal at best. A few hours later we checked our position and found that now we were only ½ a mile off the shore, the ice ever slowly pushing us toward land.  We received an email from a boat 60 miles north of us.  She was so solidly packed in and was being driven to shore. She had to call the Canadian Coast Guard to send an ice breaker to free them up.  Our trip of a lifetime had taken on the dimension of deadly earnest and we had to act. We made the hard decision to try and point Bagan West at any and all costs to push, batter and break away from the rock bound coast.  The pounding that Bagan took was indescribable; the continued and horrific protests of the ice was akin to the banshee’s screams as we forced our way though it. It was the stuff of nightmares.  We gained our 3 miles and again dropped the hook on a floe that night.

The next morning we awoke to find that we had, of all things, drifted our way south 7 miles.  With renewed energy and refreshed determination we once again set about using this good ship as an ice breaker. By three that afternoon we had broken our way clear into thinner and less dense ice packs.  Simply put, I would not have tried any of this if I had not been on a Nordhavn.  Her strength and integrity is unsurpassed and it’s no exaggeration when I say she, and she alone, got us out of a situation that was in a lifetime of boating worse than anything I’ve experienced to date.  No qualms about saying that at times I’d never been more terrified or more despondent. I think that at one point or another we all were and the amazing thing about this crew is that we pressed on regardless and did our best to keep these feelings of abject horror to ourselves.  I’m very, very thankful to be posting this as I am and in the last few days have learned more about myself than all my combined fifty-eight years have taught me. Hands down, the best crew, for the best boat on the best trip.