Monthly Archives: July 2012

Approach to Greenland

From the field, General,

Midnight sun off the coast of Greenland.


It’s only been a week at sea, but it feels a lot longer, probably due to the almost constant fog that has engulfed Arctic Tern since our departure from Canada. A South Easterly gale is now pushing us north. Daylight hours are rapidly increasing as we pass the Arctic Circle, the line of latitude north of which one enters the land of the midnight sun. More light makes “night” navigation easier, but also adds to our warped sense of time when combined with the ever-present fog, and our 9 hour routine of 3 hours keeping watch followed by 6 hours off, eating and sleeping.
It’s with great excitement that we approach Sisimiut, our first port of call in Greenland, as landfall promises to break this cycle.

Greenland and fog

From the field, General,

Fog, fog and more fog.


We’re headed for Upernavik where we’ll meet the WWF team and scientists on July 24th.
Since yesterday, the wind has been south-east between 20 and 25 knots. Goodbye southern summer and hello Arctic summer: long johns, jackets, fleece, mittens, waterproof jacket and pants, everything comes out … and everything is quickly soaked! But we move at about 6/7 knots and almost on a direct route! One mystery remains, however: the fog does not seem to dissipate or leave us. Either we are in an unimaginably huge fog bank, connecting Newfoundland to Greenland … Or the fog  has taken a liking to the Arctic Tern 1. Whatever the wind and outside temperature, it sticks around. When Bob is not there, the fog is our fourth crew member!
We can’t see the horizon, but the Arctic Tern seems happy to sail in these northern lands. Yesterday we crossed the 60th parallel. Yesterday? Or maybe it was this evening. The days and nights are starting to look more and more alike.

Bob, the new crew member

From the field, General

Students on Ice / WWF


We do some things at sea that we would never do on land but here, they seem normal: wake up every 6 hours for a 3-hour shift whether it’s noon, 6pm, or midnight; sleep on a berth wedged between pillows, the boat’s hull and an anti-roll plate at a 45 degree angle; flush the basic toilet with a hand pump, do the dishes with sea water, pull up the table to access drinkable water, raise the sails, lower them, raise them again, and do it over and over according to the weather… and we seem to enjoy all of it!
Unfortunately the wind dies down quickly and we must turn the motor on to continue our journey, against the fog that seems to keep us company! The outside temperature drops slowly, and we trade shorts, T-shirts and flip-flops for warmer clothes.  Sometimes there’s a ray of sunshine, and the summer clothes come out again!
We’ve improvised some new crew members along the way:  fulmars, shearwaters, two fin whales and even a Pine Siskin that we’ll call Bob. He returns every day around mid-day, does not look very fit and is very far above the earth for such a small bird! He finds the door of the boat and begins to go in and out for a while. He must find it very hot inside! The crew falls in love with their fourth team member and does everything to keep him on board: even imitating his distinctive cry (“ti-iiii”)… you can imagine the scene!  But sorry, no videos…

Heading for Greenland

From the field, General

Our first icebergs!


The stopover in Blanc Sablon lasts a total of 26 hours:  we arrive July 2 at 1am, we encounter some local fishermen the next morning and have the usual conversations at port (weather, planned route, presence of ice or not, etc.). We sometimes have a little trouble understanding the local accent… but soon realize that means our New Zealand, Quebec and French accents finally make us “foreigners” here!  A day of call flies quickly. Thank you again to Trish Nash and Rudolph Jones for their help and availability!
We rejoin the sailing world on Tuesday morning at 3 am. This time, we’re headed for Greenland unless the presence of too much fog or ice prevents us from sailing safely at night. It’s still foggy, but when we leave Belle Isle the sun finally appears and we rediscover the horizon at last! The wind is a fine addition and we enjoy a few hours of sailing.
We’re overjoyed: the first icebergs! Massive and so impressive. We’re excited but must be cautious — vigilance will be needed during the shifts now, with the radar on almost constantly.

Blanc Sablon

From the field, General,

We arrive at Blanc Sablon on the night of July 2.

The boat is full of sticky notes in preparation for our last stop before the Greenland crossing.


Each crew member has a 3 hour shift every 6 hours. Cooking is done in turns, small jobs here and there too. We also become familiar with everyone’s little habits: hot water at the beginning of each shift for Pascale (and candy on the bridge), two teaspoons (and no more!) of powdered milk in Grant’s tea, A half-ball of jasmine tea (and no more either!) in mine. At the end of each shift, we fill the logbook, describing the situation at each specific time (course, compass heading, wind conditions, sail or motor, remaining distance, etc.), everything is compiled.
Madame Velcro continues her rampage. The cereal box is her latest victim. This week, we have the appearance of “Mr. Spiderman ‘(Grant). At any time of day or night, he emerges from his berth at the slightest suspicious noise.
Returning to the land means the return of on board lists of things to buy, do, find, repair, consolidate, rebuild, improve… The boat is full of sticky notes.
Our departure from Blanc Sablon depends on the weather for the crossing. We look forward to hitting the open ocean (and getting out of the fog!) Then, to reach Greenland and welcome on board the WWF team and scientists.