And The Oscar Goes to . . .

Sloop Harbour, Labrador
August 12, 2013

No story would exist without its cast of characters and we’ve had some memorable ones on this trip.  They’re big, inquisitive, smart, furry, white, the biggest land predator today, known as Nanuk in the Inuit language, they are polar beaers. 

It seems fitting to wrap up our cast of characters here in Sloop where we saw our first bear on this trip.

 

Sloopy – We really don’t mind seeing a bear running away! We’d never expected to see a bear this far south but with the pack ice so close it made sense.

 

Michael Phelps – our first swimming bear. Polar Bears are classified as marine mammals and he was right at home.

 

 

Mrs. Schooner & cub - These 2 came down to the beach in the gloamy light of dawn.  The cub got Mom to play with him, took a short nap, watched us a bit.

 

Kip – We learned from Mick & Bee that “kip” is British slang for a nap.  If we’d had any idea how much kipping  “Kip” would do we might’ve named her Sleepy.

Eclipse –  On so many occasions we thought a rock was a bear but this time we really thought this bear was a rock! Approaching the anchorage in Eclipse it never moved and it was only as we got close enough to see the black nose that we were sure. 

Zodie – We saw this bear climbing up a steep cliff on our zodiac ride up Saglek.  Bears aren’t just on the out islands or close to the open sea. They’ve been seen miles inland and at high elevations. 

We saw 2 bears in the distance. They’re “extras” and not in the running for a major part.

 

Monty - Entering the off-lying island of Maindmonts we watched a large golden-white rock in the grass uncurl itself and become a rather large male bear.  Anchoring was delayed as cameras came out and he seemed to enjoy his moment in the spotlight, climbing onto the rocks so we could get some great shots. It also put him at a distinct height advantage!

 

 

 

These bears were all great but the Oscar must go to – Clark Gable.  Curious, bold, not the least disturbed by us, quite the opposite in fact, Clark is the bear we haven’t wanted to encounter on shore and affirmation that our decision not to hike in some of these gorgeous places was the right one.  We spotted him as we were leaving Clark Harbour. standing on his hind legs in the water sniffing in our direction.  Maybe we were the first yacht he’d ever seen.  He ambled onto the 30’ high cliffs in this tight anchorage and followed as we moved slowly along.  Followed – some might say stalked.  It felt like stalking! 

 

Scratching the Surface

 

Torngat Mountains

kANGIDLUASUk  (St. John’s Bay), Saglek Fjord

Basecamp

August 2, 2013

“Some people put sugar on them but I like ‘em plain,”  Maria explained as she handed me leaves from a roseroot plant.  The tangy taste sat on my tongue as we hiked above Nachvak Brook’s spreading fan of water emptying into Saglek Fjord.  Maria was one of 3 bear monitors provided by Torngat Mountains National Park for our zodiac ride and hike. 

 

 

Motoring to the head of St. John’s Bay in Saglek Fjord last night, the one permanent building housing dining hall, offices, and scientific labs surrounded by heated yurts and tents came into view.  It’s a startling sight to see such a large human footprint after travelling through wilderness for weeks.  This is kANGIDLUASUk, the Inututik name for the head of St. John’s Bay and Torngat Mountains National Park’s (TMNP) Base Camp on Saglek Fjord.  TMNP was the first Canadian National park created with input and co-management of local First Nation’s People.  It seems to be going well. 

Saglek Fjord was our last chance to really hike in the Torngats versus power walking up and down the beach in sight of dinghy and Andante.  It was also our last chance to venture far into the fjords, something we hadn’t done because of fuel concerns.  “Saglek” means shortcut and the saddle between Cape Uivuk and the 3000ft high mountains inland of the Cape was used by people and bears moving up the coast for millennia.  Today, that saddle is occupied by an airstrip where visitors to Torngat Mountains National Park arrive by chartered plane from Nain or Goose Bay and are ferried by boat from the landing strip to Base Camp. 

This isn’t a national park as we think of it. It’s only “open” 6 weeks of the year and is as much a scientific base as a place for tourists to explore wilderness, history and wildlife.  All visitors are requested to check in here and get bear information and find out about the resources available. 

Anchored off the beach was Tarok, a Swiss boat that’s been in Lewisporte, Newfoundland for several years as they spend summers exploring Newfoundland and Labrador.  We’ve been trading e-mails since before our trips started but this will be the first anchorage we share.  The crew of both boats met at the dining hall for seeing the faces behind the e-mails and radio conversations we’ve been sharing. 

Every evening activities for the next day are posted in the dining hall.  On tap for the next day - Zodiac ride & hike up Nachvak Brook - finally a chance to hike and explore deeper into the fjords.

We met Lorenzo from Tarok and our bear monitors, Henry, Maria and Jobe at the dock.  Loaded into the large zodiac, we blitzed up the Fjord each of us pointing in different directions at something to see; an unusual geologic feature, a waterall plummeting to rocks below, a polar bear romping up a steep incline.  

Maria, Alison, Russ & Jobe
 

Nosing close to some rocks we scrambled out of the inflatable and began walking.   Nachvak Brook is the eastern terminus of another Inuit/Polar Bear highway.  It connects with River Koroc which connects with George River and Ungava Bay transversing the long triangle that is the tip of Labrador & Quebec.  Maria told us her mother had been born here, a traditional camping spot and she grew up traveling northern Labrador with her family.  A few years ago Inuit from the Labrador side and the Ungava Bay side placed a commemorative inuksuqs here.    Jobe, the other bear monitor, grew up in George River on the Ungava Bay side so it seemed fitting to have both sides represented on our hike. 

Their official title is “Bear Monitor” but they’re so much more.  We learned what plants to eat and tasted them, about what it was like to grow up here and how much it meant to them to be able to come back and live a more traditional lifestyle than those living in town year-round.  Seeing a robin hopping amongst the heather, Jobe & Maria commented it was the first robin they’ve seen this far north.  That coupled with comments of how the green growth is reaching higher up the mountainsides provided anecdotal evidence of climate change.

I love Maria's hot pink gun strap.

Sometimes we second-guessed ourselves on our bear caution. Were we being too cautious?  Could we have gone off hiking when it was just the two of us?  Hearing the respect and caution that our bear monitors have for polar bears confirmed our decision.  We’d been right to be cautious. 

Gliding along this coast in Andante sometimes feels like car touring.  You’re in the place but not touching or tasting it.  We got the chance to go deeper, to do more than scratch the surface of the coast by moving inland and by learning about life here - a magical end to our time in the Torngats.

 

 

 

Security

Schooner Cove, Nachvak Fjord

July 31, 2013

 

 

“The scene is beyond the possibility of my pen, and I shall not attempt it.  The rocks were entirely barren, except here and there, on the lower ranges, where the slopes were gradual, and patches of heather, or bog, or stunted vegetation of some kind, relieved the dullness of their uniform color.  Higher up near the clouds, on the giant precipices, we could see, here and there a rough broken garment of moss, the growth, probably, of a thousand years. The summits were capped with perpetual snow in many, places that sparkled and glowed in the morning sun, as its rays broke through the parting clouds, like crowns of glory.  The prospect was strange and wild – strange in the angularity of the steep declivities, bold, rugged, barren and desolate, yet altogether, as one passes within the entrance, continuing to inspire a sense of security.”

~ C.R. Tuttle (1885) describing entering Nachvak Fjord in Our North Land:  Being a full account of the Canadian North-west and Hudson’s Bay Route, together with a narrative of the experiences of the Hudson’s Bay Expedition of 1884.

 

This was our farthest north on our 2011 trip and it was so foggy we didn’t get a sense of the place.  This year, bright blue skies opened our eyes to what’s known as the most dramatic scenery on this very dramatic coast. These aren’t the soft shouldered mountains of The Blue Ridge.  These mountains reach jagged fists upward to tear the belly out of skimming clouds.  Snow drifts fill bowls and cling to near vertical ramparts.   Clouds dance up the sides while waterfalls cascade down.

 

The mountains have remained the same since Mr. Tuttle wrote about them in 1884 but if anything the area has become more devoid of human life. During the 1880’s Inuit families would have been camped along the fjord during the summer months. Fishers from Newfoundland would’ve been over for the fishing season.  People would’ve been moving up and down the coast all summer.  We’ve seen 2 boats since leaving Nain 16 days ago.  One was a fishing boat heading to Ungava Bay and the other was an American sailboat returning from Cape Chidley.

Today we’re sharing Schooner Cove in Nachvak Fjord with a young polar bear.  She* was moving about on the rocks at the water’s edge as we anchored and then found a comfortable spot and has been there for 2 days!  She’ll lift her head every once in a while and rearrange herself but basically hasn’t strayed from a 10 foot area.  She’s the 9^th bear we’ve seen so far.  Russ paddled over a safe distance and she just looked at him. 

 

*We can’t tell if they’re male or female. This one looked fairly small so we’re thinking maybe it’s a young female.

Polar bears are the only bears that don’t hibernate but summer is their down time.  They tend to laze about in the day and move around at night.  If you were wearing a fur coat in the summer, wouldn’t you do the same?

I paddled into the middle of the fjord.  Paddled until Andante was the tiniest speck nestled against the mountains.  Paddled until I was an infinitesimal speck. I didn’t feel Mr. Tuttle’s “sense of security” but knew I floated on and among a sea of beauty. 

Farthest North

Farthest North

Clark Harbour, Labrador
07/25/2013          

 

 

 

 Dressed in a layer of polypro, 2 pairs of socks, and a wool hat, I'm ensconced in my sleeping bag with an inner liner. My gloved hand holds a book and my voice fills our forward cabin as I read to my similarly clad and ensconced husband. Our breath comes out in visible puffs as rivulets of condensation make their way down every vertical surface. We're at Clark Harbour, the northernmost harbor on the Labrador mainland and the harbor at the entrance to McClellan Strait the narrow, tide ripped passage that leads to Ungava Bay. The only reason we're able to relax enough to read is we were up at 5 this morning running a line ashore. The wind is forecast to pipe up and we're afraid, after our 3 attempts to anchor yesterday, that the only thing attaching our anchor to the bottom is a bunch of kelp and sea grass.

This will be our northernmost anchorage for this trip and it feels very north. Andante's interior hull temperature is reading 33.5° Fahrenheit. The thermometer inside our bubble (the nickname our dodger has acquired on this trip) is 36°. The land is lacking any softening layer of vegetation, at a glance it looks like pure rock.  We made a foray onto shore, being very alert for bears, and found up close it's a different story. There are plants here. Lichens, moss, and wildflowers tiny enough for a gnome's home lay in crevices. Their height is measured in millimeters as they seek shelter and warmth from the rocks around them. 

 We'd thought about continuing north from here but fuel consumption is becoming a concern. To get this far north this fast, we've motored on calm days, and there have been a LOT of calm days. Now we need to make sure we have enough fuel to get back to Nain or tuck in somewhere safe if the weather turns nasty. Earlier, we'd thought about crossing Hudson Strait, one of the foggiest places in the world, and visiting Baffin Island but we'll be saving that for another trip. We're quite happy to have safely made it here and we can see Cape Chidley when the fog lifts.

 Next morning we rose early to retrieve our line ashore before the rising tide put it under water. After a leisurely breakfast we began raising the anchor and cutting kelp off as we went. Glancing off our stern a pair of black eyes stared intently at us, nose in the air using that incredible sense of smell to discern if we were edible. Our seventh polar bear was young, a male we think, and very, very curious. He clambered up the rocks until he was looking down from the nearby cliff. Out came the cameras. Russ shot video and my job was to #1 keep us off the rocks and in deep water and #2 get some stills if I could. "Clark Gable" happily obliged and posed for us. These young males are known as the troublemakers and we were glad we hadn't encountered him on shore the day before!  

 

 

 

Killing Time

Sloop Harbour, Labrador  

July 6, 2013

Killing time . . . it’s not something that comes natural to us.  Seems we’re always juggling multiple projects, working a deadline, saying, “If we just had 2 more weeks we could get it all done.”  So maybe enforced idleness is a good thing . . .

We’ve been pushing hard to get up here so we can have as long a time as possible north of Nain.  It’s a looonnnnnggggg way and the fall storms arrive up here when it’s the still the height of summer further south.  But we’ve been keeping an eye on the ice too.  Pack ice that is.  Environment Canada puts out ice charts daily.    (insert link)  (You can search by date if you’re interested in past charts.)  It’s not been looking good.  Cape Harrison is the next milestone to get around and the pack ice is hugging it tight. 

Canada Day found us pulling into Sloop Harbour on the north side of Groswater Bay (called Hamilton Inlet if you have a Labrador road map) and we saw it ~ a thin line of white stretching across the horizon.  Yep, that was the pack.

Anchoring, I caught movement on shore. It was our first polar bear of the trip and he was running up the hill.  We definitely hadn’t expected to see a polar bear this far south but with the pack right here, it made sense.  “Sloopy” had just decided to get off his floating ice raft for a bit of land travel. 

That changed our plans to go hiking ashore. We do have bear “deterrents” but are doing all we can to avoid a close encounter.  Polar bears are very curious and although they may not be interested in eating you they may be curious enough to want to check you out.  That goes for your dinghy too.  And in that checking out process, things, you or the dinghy, may not be left in the same state the bear found them in so we’ll be limiting our shore excursions.  When we do go ashore, we thoroughly scout the shore and surrounding areas before landing, stay in sight of the dinghy and have our bear deterrents with us and ready. 

The white line on the horizon is the pack ice.

Andante and crew made 2 excursions out to see the pack ice.  Pack ice is saltwater ice that froze over the winter in a band up to 100 miles or so wide along the Labrador coast.  Mixed in is older pack ice that has drifted down from further north.  Scattered amongst this sea ice are big icebergs (freshwater, good for the icebox!) that have calved off glaciers and been frozen into the pack ice.   This time of year it’s all melting and shifting around day to day with the wind and currents.  Pack ice is affected by wind and the big bergs, with most of their mass underwater, are affected by currents.

A long line of eider stretch out in front of the mirage.

Leaving Sloop, that thin line of white stretched vertically with the mirages that happen in these cold waters.  It’s like they were a reflection in a fun house mirror.  It’s said the Inuit could read these mirages and pick out leads through the ice pack. 

Common Eider flying in front of the distant pack ice.

Andante putted along the ice edge and we watched these bergy bits from VW Beetle size to house size, heave up and down on the swell crashing together with a thud and a crunch, then bounding off each other like sumo wrestlers fighting for the championship.  We wanted no part of it in our glass home.  

Andante is glass reinforced with fibers and plastic but might as well be pure glass to this roiling ice pack.  Guillemots, puffins and common eider flew among the bergs perfectly at home in this icy landscape. 

Calm seas awaited our second excursion and we felt comfortable enough to do a little photographic side trip.  

I got Andante close to Quaker Hat Island, Russ and the camera and the bear deterrents headed to shore.  The air here is so dry and clear things seem closer and smaller than they are.  Russ and our dinghy looked very tiny landing on that island.  Back on board we maneuvered through stray bits and got back to Sloop. 

So how do we kill time on Andante?  A rainy day and a US Holiday (Independence Day) meant a day free from chores. We read, knitted, played scrabble (and yes those really were my letters at one point!) baked goodies, ate and watched the other inhabitants of Sloop Harbour.  At one point 13 seals lounged on rocks.  They seem to favor this bowed position and will stay that way until just the tip of a nose and the tip of their feet are above water.  These looked like very fat seals!  Russ is worried we interrupted the polar bear’s dinner.

 

The other reason I call this “killing time.”  Shortly after we arrived the hills were keeping our attention looking for another bear.  No bear but we saw a strange, black, chicken like bird frantically hurrying down the hill.  Scanning with the binoculars we saw a golden white shape moving stealthily and determinedly through the brush.  Not a bear, but an arctic fox with his coat changing between winter white and summer reddish brown.  Well that little bird was right to be frantic because the next thing we knew, the fox had her.  Somebody’s going to eat well tonight!

P.S.  We’re heading north of Nain and won’t have internet access for 3-4 weeks.  Planning to post onto our sailblogs blog site which we can do remotely.  Please visit us at:

http://www.sailblogs.com/member/svandante/      

Battle Harbour Magic

Battle Harbour Magic

 

Battle Harbour, Labrador

 

June 21, 2013

 

 

 

 

I could start every entry with “one of our favorite places” but Battle Harbour is a magical place.  We’ve sat on the rocks and filmed humpback whales feeding almost within touching distance. Had our first kitchen party in one of the restored houses, watched Gannets arrowing into the water to snatch their dinner, stood in the loft where Admiral Peary announced his successful trip to the North Pole, soaked up its history and hiked its trails. 

 

Once known as “The Capital of Labrador” due to its importance to the fishery it’s now a preserved piece of history.

 

“Battle Harbour [has] a reputation of being the most lawless and disorderly place on the whole coast.” Report of Captain Hamilton, H.M.S. Vesuvius, October 1862.

 

 

First settled in the 1750’s it was the economic hub of the cod fishery and kept this status into the twentieth century.

 

“It’s a pretty sight, I assure you, to see this out-of-the-world region so thoroughly alive and stirring as it is in summer, with all these small vessels from different parts filling the bay from head to entrance . . . . Others remain outside flitting about from place to place as occasion may require, all engaged in the same pursuit of fishing for cod.”  W.A. Stearns, Labrador: A sketch of its peoples, its industries and its natural history (1884)

 

Today due to the collapse of the fishery, there are no boats scurrying to and fro and the only fishing work done here is by the lifesized figures standing sentinel.  By the 1960’s cod was declining and the townspeople were re-settled into Mary’s Harbour on the mainland.  It was destined to become another abandoned outport with decaying buildings when the Battle Harbour Historic Trust spearheaded a massive restoration effort.   Houses were turned into B&B’s, the Inn was opened, excellent interpretive displays created and installed and visitors welcomed.

 

We arrived before they were officially welcoming guests for this season but were welcomed anyway.  The Board of Directors was meeting to chart a course for the future and we were able to share our love for this place and get in another Battle Harbour Kitchen Party.

 

 

*Historical photographs property of Battle Harbour Historical Trust

 

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The West Coast

The West Coast

June 20, 2013

Cow Head, Newfoundland

 

Alison's evening yoga studio!

 

There’s a lot of debate about which way to go around Newfoundland.  Due to a shortage of harbors, sailors tend to not like the West side too much. When we went around “The Rock” in 2009, our strategy was to use the more reliable south-west wind to get us up the west side and then harbor hop into those prevailing south westerlies down the east side.

 



Rocks near Codroy

 It worked out well and in the process we came to appreciate what the west has to offer. Viewed from the water the whole island is dramatic with waves throwing themselves against sheer cliffs that plunge to meet them.  On the west side you can add a few stretches of actual beach, some sea caves and cliff formations, and the unique geology around Gros Morne. 

We’ve sailed this stretch 5 times and find plenty to keep us interested and coming back . . .



 

Perched just around the south western corner of Newfoundland, Codroy was our second stop in 2009.  Arriving on the last day of school, our boat was soon hosting a group of local boys eager for what the summer had to offer.  The enclosed harbor was full of fishing boats unloading their catches of halibut and turbot.  Small skiffs arrived and departed with lobster traps.  Families strolled around the wharves and the fish plant was hopping.  The place was on the go.

 

Arriving this year the leaden sky seemed to foreshadow the current state of Codroy.  There was one small fishing boat tied up and just a few skiffs.  Chatting with folks told the tale.  Shrimp were getting scarce. Lobster prices were so low it wasn’t worth the fuel to get them.  Most of the local guys had sold their boats and licenses or just not bothered to put their boats in the last few years. The small general store closed a few months earlier. 

 

We were greeted from porches as we strolled around, chatted with kids at the playground and patronized the only commercial enterprise in town besides the fish plant, The Chip Wagon. Open just a few weeks it was enjoying a great business and the hamburger with fried onions was really good.  The view and chatting with its owner was priceless.

 We couldn't go the summer without a lobster roll!   Lobster from the fish plant and the rolls from the Chip Wagon.

 

And there's always complicated geology to keep you interested.  The dark brown is either a hard clay or a soft rock depending on how you see it.

Hard clay or soft rock?



Picking out lights on a night arrival in a strange harbor can be just a tad stressful.  Motoring into Rocky Harbour at 2am we were glad we’d been here before. Rocky Harbour, at the entrance to Bonne Bay, isn’t particularly rocky as in big pieces of stone but can be rocky from waves.  We found an old chart that called it Roche Harbour and I think over the years it got Anglicized to Rocky.  This very small town is surrounded by Gros Morne National Park so it has the feel of a town catering to tourists.  Gros Morne, a UNESCO world heritage site is home to the second highest peak in Newfoundland and geology that you can’t see anywhere else on earth.  You can hike across the earth’s mantle and view spectacular, land-locked fjords.

We were here to rendezvous with an ordered part and hopefully get some hiking in and knock off a few more of the ever present boat chores.  We’d had the part sent to the only place we could think of, Java Jack’s Restaurant. Java Jack’s is owned by Jackie, a sailor, and offers delectable fare in a great atmosphere featuring local artists’ work on the walls and the speakers. 

No part so boat chores!  The big break-through was Russ figuring out how to hook up our pactor modem. The pactor enables us to send & receive simple e-mails through our single side band radio. It’s not surfing the web but it is communicating!

 

Bakers Brooks Falls

 

 

Still no part so we managed our first epic hike of 2013.  Bakers Brooks Falls, a 9.5 km trail, ended up being around 14 miles roundtrip because we had to get to and from the trailhead!  The torrent of water cascading over the first waterfall was well worth it.  The other 3 waterfalls were bonuses! We passed another couple on their way out but otherwise had the trail to ourselves. 

 

The forest around Gros Morne is boreal pine but the non-native moose are changing that.  Wind and insects shape a boreal forest.  The insects weaken the trees and the wind knocks them down so seedlings can get a start. The moose interrupt this process by eating the seedlings.  Seems they like pine seedlings but not birch.  So the forests are changing over to birch forests.  This trail showed it in dramatic fashion.  We could just see a tall fence where they’re doing a test plot to see if they keep the moose out they can keep the pines.

 

After 3 days of missing wind in the right direction, we’d decided we had to go package or no.  A last breakfast at Java Jack’s and she dashed off to check her post office box.  It came!

 

We set off for Cow Head.  I think they call it cow head because of the shape of the island.  Since the roads came through, town has moved over the causeway to the road side.  We’ve been here before for the Lobster Festival featuring, you guessed it, lobster but also local music and entertainment. 

 

This time we decided to try the Gros Morne Theatre and caught a dinner theatre production of the SS Ethie.  Drama, humor and song tell the story of the coastal steamer Ethie.  Caught out in a December gale that was the worst anyone could remember she was in danger of being bashed on the rocks when her captain made the decision to purposefully beach her. It worked and all on board were saved. It was a great evening and we enjoyed talking with fellow travelers! 

 

Cow Head is also known for its geology and a walk out to the “point of the head” and the lighthouse shows it off. 

 

 

And we got to sit out a bit of a blow!

 

 

Last stop, Port Au Choix.  We weren’t here long this trip but did manage to find the showers and the large Foodland grocery store.  Previous stops we’ve walked out to the National Historic Site.  Hiking the trails takes you by archeological digs delving into the earliest people that camped along this shore.

 

 

 

 

 

 

From here we’ll hope for a clear day and cross over to Labrador. Clear because from here North there’s ice.  Ice reports say, “ one zero zero bergs” in the Straits of Belle Isle. That’s one hundred! 

 

Here's a map of our trip to date:

https://maps.google.ca/maps/ms?msid=209674061295196822166.0004e0396ee8a8998d365&msa=0&ll=48.516604,-56.085205&spn=3.726199,10.821533