Things continue busy for Mo and Randall at the Royal Cruising Club of Newfoundland near St. John’s, and the only way to keep up is to hand you, dear reader, another repost. This one, also from the 2014 Northwest Passage attempt, chronicles my first days in hard-won Nuuk, Greenland.
Nuuk is Mo’s target once we’ve departed St. John’s, and so this article may be an interesting prelude to our arrival in one of the most photogenic places I’ve ever visited. Also, it illustrates nicely that Mo is not the only vessel for whom voyage preparations are never quite complete.
(The diligent may note that a
Posted by Randall, July 17, 2014
July 15 – 17, Nuuk
Les, Ali and I met for coffee at the Seaman’s Mission early on a foggy morning. Then we hauled my 45 pounds of equipment, almost all clothing, down to the wharf where Arctic Tern lay, and I was given a quick tour (here’s how to make coffee; here’s how to operate the head) and shown my quarters.
She is a big boat, Arctic Tern, steel, nearly 45 feet overall, and orange of
All the way aft is the master stateroom and all the way forward, the V-berth. The V-berth is two bunks, one on the inside of either
Our first happy task was to have coffee with our nearest neighbors on Young Larry, whom I was pleased to meet. Young Larry’s owners, Andrew Wilkes and wife, Marie, made an early (2010) transit of the Northwest Passage followed by a long, descriptive article, published by the Royal Cruising Club’s Pilotage Foundation. This was one of the first, detailed accounts I discovered while doing Northwest Passage research. Les and Ali have also spent many years in Arctic waters, and the conversation between these four easily followed through to the end of the cake and second pot of coffee.
In the afternoon we walked our passports to the police station looking to get stamped out of the country for a planned departure next evening. Ten minutes later, and after much rummaging, we were told by the officer on duty that the stamp could not be found. There was only one; likely it was at the airport. The officer would send someone to retrieve it and meet us at the boat (note: two days later no officer has come calling—an indication of the importance of procedure in Greenland.)
There is a common joke among sailors born from common experience; that being, the cruising life provides one with the privilege of working on his boat in exotic places. True to form our departure prep began early the next morning. I busied myself capping the Dorade vents on Arctic Tern’s lower decks against the mighty seas we are sure to face west of Alaska, while Ali zipped Les to the top of the mast to renew the VHF antenna and wiring. All went well until, during his descent, Les found that the starboard-side diagonal shroud had a cracked wire just below the fitting.
We chewed the problem over lunch-time sandwiches of peanut butter, yellow cheese and Branston Pickle. It was agreed that one of the problems with stainless wire is that routine checks, as are performed on Arctic Tern, don’t guarantee against nasty surprises. We also agreed how fortunate it was to find the problem here. Les reasoned that though we had spare wire aboard, using it now would mean not having an emergency replacement further on. Nuuk is the last outpost where ordering from Europe is “easy.” So, after coffee Les made his way to the boat center, and now a double-long stand of 10mil wire should be delivered from Denmark by late Friday.
Jimmy Cornell and a crew of eight, including guests and a reporter, we are told, departed aboard his Aventura in the early morning. Catryn, a
After dinner, Lillian B. invited us aboard for whiskies to celebrate the completion of their first leg, and during which their younger member peppered Les and Ali with questions of the passage further on. During this exchange they made one of those quintessential remote-travel discoveries: their propane tanks, which needed filling, had none of the right fittings for Greenland gas.
Next morning while I renewed the running backs, Ali replaced sheet blocks and Les ascended the mast again to remove the offending stay, this while the crew of Lillian B. disgorged their empty propane tanks from their lockers and tore the boat up looking for spares with which to jury rig new fittings.
We had mid-morning coffee in the cockpit. Brilliant sun, windless. Short sleeves shirts and bare feet. Next hour a light breeze from the north, and though the brilliant sun remained, we quickly moved for our boots and sweaters.
In the afternoon I was given a few hours shore leave to explore the town. From the café in which I write, I can see Young Larry departing under sail up Nuuk’s main fjord, this as an iceberg makes its way to the sea.