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Keri's Journal Sept 20, 2001 I am in my own private planetarium. Billions of glittering stars fill the 360 degrees of horizon surrounding the boat. We are sailing along, hooting along, at seven and a half knots. Other galaxies, star-like bioluminescence, tumble past Northanger's hull in the inky black wake of the cold Labrador Sea. My immediate world is filled with a preternatural beauty that cannot fail to leave one with a sense of awe and wonderment at this mysterious and precious world to which we humans belong. For the first time in two and a half months, the day we arrived in Labrador, in Saglek Bay, we turned on the radio and listened to the world news spew out tales of horror, of terrorism, death; of how our world all of a sudden has become an unsafe and dangerous place. Instantly, our euphoria at having made a safe passage from Greenland is turned to sadness, sorrow, anger and disbelief. And now, we are sailing south into a world filled with uncertainty. Regardless of what will happen, the earth will continue to revolve around the sun and the stars, constellations and galaxies will return every night to fill someone's sky with mystery and magic. And right now, I am thankful because tonight is my night.....Keri Northanger's Log Sept 10, 2001 59 degrees 27'N - 61degrees 26'W After five days of pounding into relentless southwesterlies and with Greenland left behind in the autumn gales, land is in sight! Or maybe it is just an arctic mirage, playing tricks with a seasick weakened mind. No, the GPS doesn't lie, right? The charts of Labrador show an unforgiving coastline, what of it is charted. Miles of shoal-littered waters extend off a the rugged landscape of the Torngat Mountains (Torngat is apparently a powerful mountain spirit of the Inuit). A reasonably safe anchorage in Saglek Bay is teasingly close - 64 nautical miles or 12 hours at our current speed of 5.4 knots. An ominus looking depression has appeared on our weather chart and is heading this way, packing winds of 30 knots or more, so we are anxious to make landfall before this system hits. This is our second time crossing Davis Strait into the Labrador Sea. Last year, we were late in the season, leaving Nuuk, Greenland in October. Halfway, between Nuuk and Hamilton Inlet on the Labrador Coast, we were bombarded with storm force winds and were forced to heave to for 40 hours. All sorts of calamties engulfed us during this storm - the kerosene cookstove leaked everyhere, the mainsail sheet got loose and wrapped itself in the propeller, the hose on the water cooling system for the engine came loose and filled the bilges with water (I thought we were sinking). This year, we got away lightly. With gale force winds buffeting us on the nose, life aboard was about as uncomfortable as it gets. To add to the discomfort of temperatures around five degree Celcius, the diesel heater blew out and stayed out for the crossing. Worse, the diesel fuel continued to flow into heater and overflowed into the bilge. And once again, the kerosene cookstove spewed it's obnoxious fuel everywhere, saturating the insulation in the oven and making the oven inoperable (we are going to get rid of that stove one of these days!). These nauseating vapours did nothing to aid in the general mal de mer that was gripping some crew members more than others (yes, I lost it - whats new). But now, all the misery is forgotten as we motor through a glassy, undulating sea. Seals, kittiwakes, fulmars and guillemots surround us. The pungent odour of land whisps past on the odd trickle of wind. Ah, land, what a glorious thing. Keri Chris's Journal August 31, 2001 Returning south, with a feeling of satisfaction after our successful climb of the 2800' wall, on the north face of Sanderson's Hope, in the Upernavik area. We've been sailing for the past six days. Our voyage made all the more pleasant by a spell of high pressure, providing us with warm, clear, sunny, days. Leisurely weaving amongst the icebergs, we meander along this spectacular coast moving during the days, and stopping for the night in anchorages, giving us a chance to shake out the legs and rest comfortably. The timing of the return trip across the mighty North Atlantic is crucial as we want to avoid the potential wrath of the up coming stormy fall weather. So far we are perfectly on schedule. We have taken a couple days in the port of Jakobshavn on Disko Bay, to refuel and do some last minute preparations, for the up coming crossing to Labrador. Due to its remoteness and difficulty of access Northern Greenland is one of the very few remaining areas on earth that haven't been explored yet alone climbed. A few of the less technical summits have been done by "easier" routes but we were in search of something large and steep, preferably lending it self to free climbing. A large part of climbing in this area, was simply getting there. This was definetly Northanger country. On their way down from wintering in south Elsmere Island, Greg and Keri and seen this area and found it worthy of further exploration. Our first objective had only been seen from aireal photographs but upon further inspection the quality of the rock wasn't up to par. We searched around the ice choked fiords, settling on the striking feature of the north prow of Sanderson's Hope. It is a pinkish granite wall, of beautiful proportions, rising straight out of the sea to a flat summit. It begged to be climbed! We fixed 5 pitches that had gone all free over three days with one day of hauling, returning to the boat anchored 3 nm away. We then committed to the wall climbing capsule style, we planned on a week of supplies hoping our free climbing streak would continue bringing supplies for a week. Jia and I shared the leading with Greg manning the cameras for the up coming film. As it turned out Greg put in a fantastic lead up a steep offwidth, which lead to a long, hard chimney! No wall is complete without a little chimney action. We followed crack systems linked by passages off hard runout face on remarkably featured granite. Kindly enough we found many little ledges for belays. We often climbed at the limit of our free climbing ability often feeling that we would soon be aiding. So many pitches looked so improbable from the belay but upon closer inspection and to our great surprise, the features would allow us passage. The rock was generally excellent granite, the abundance of quartz made from good friction climbing but unfortunately tough hauling, we found little loose rock and no lichen! In 18 long pitches we used maybe a dozen points of aid, placing 4 1\4" bolts on lead and placed only 4 more 3\8" bolts for our two portaledge camps. In total we took ten days to complete the wall. We spent 6 nights in the ledge, only one rainy, down day, climbing six days and hauling three. During our climb we were entertained by the calving of large icebergs below, making tremendous thundering that often had us ducking, expecting something coming down only to look down and see the cause of the sounds. We enjoyed spectacular alpenglow for hours as the artic sun would only just dip below the horizon late at night never making things dark. No headlamps were even taken along! Expedition update August 27, 2001 We are on our way south again and despite all the time left and the adventures at hand, there is something demoralizing about being over the half way mark of a long trip and starting to think about the journey home. Part of my problem is what exactly is home anyways and where am I headed...the stress of decisions impacting my future are beginning. Also, we have accomplished the main goal of our trip: the big wall ascent. Now anything seems anticlimactic and at least one crewmember is very interested in getting home ASAP now that the main agenda in accomplished. We no longer have 24h daylight and as we travel south it is much darker and colder at night. Sure to bring a more somber feel to the trip. Also, I am missing my friends and freedom to do things like go for runs, for coffee, to see live music, to drive my car to whatever hike I damn well choose...yes, we are getting along but quite amazing after 8 weeks aboard and really no other outlet. In fact, exercise is next to impossible while sailing due to the sporadic rock and roll and although we have been walking/hiking when possible, I am feeling like a lump!! We are so well fed on board that I think we are all putting on a little extra poundage. Although it may sound warped, I am hoping for some colder weather to perhaps burn a few extra calories. So, I guess that is enough complaining...but gives a flavour for the moral of the trip at this point. That being said, we have just experienced one of our most incredible sailing days...in the iceberg zone and we did some sailing passes for the film and photos and had superb weather. What a thrill to be amongst these quiet giants which occasionally creek, crack and rock and roll....yikes! Tonight is the first truly black night and we are taking shifts on anchor watch for icebergs that may attempt to entrap us in our happy anchorage at Igdlorssuit, north of Umanaq. We are hopeful for more good weather to get us across to the Labrador coast in a possible 3 days and then we will have time for some exploration there. Skipper's Log August 23, 2001 Well , the boys are very happy after sucessfully completing a 2750' climb up the nose on Sandersons Hope. Sandersons Hope was named by Davis in 1597 and was the farthest north reached by him on his three voyages to the ice. After summitting without incident (only a few grumps and groans), the last of the gear was brought down to the boat only yesterday. Luckily the weather held fine for the climb as two days ago, a strong southerly depression dumped kneedeep snow from 200' above sealevel and up! Autumn has arrived. All of us are very pleased to have accomplished our main goal of climbing a big wall here in the north of Greenland and having some of our time make a first ascent on such an impressive route. We are now in Upernavik, waiting for another gale to blow past before we begin our descent south. Now the hard work begins! We are off to dodge icebergs, sneak around the autumn gales, avoid the odd hurricane forces winds that find their way into the Davis Straight, and get back home to St. John's intact and ready to edit the film so you all can share the experience. We'll keep you posted. Cheers! Keri, Greg, Jia, Angela, Chris Angela's Journal August 10 Everyday is rich with new experiences for me. After one day of practice jumaring, never having rock climbed in my life, I found myself on an enormous rock face, 3 pitches up, teetering on a ledge to have a pee. I have found some extra courage that is standing me well and I have great trust in Jia's guidance. I actually wanted to go further, but time did not permit. The view was fabulous and the challenge of convincing myself to continue placing my feet and hands ever upwards, trusting in the rope and the jumar apparatus, while seeing glimpses out of the corner of my eye of the sea way down below, was definately exhilerating...perhaps a new passion emerging? Jia, Chris and Greg are on there way up Sanderson's Hope, an approx. 900m rock face, after 3 days of initial rope fixing, hauling of gear and inviting Keri and I for a day of what I called 'tourist' rock climbing. Keri and I will embark on a sea kayaking adventure of our own and find some ways to shoot cool film footage of our team while they are on their expedition of 5 to 10 days. - Angela Jia's Journal August 10 It seems strange to start a journal this far into the trip, so I'll skip the beginning of the trip and start at the climb. No, just kidding. The trip has been amazing so far. We had a uneventful (sailing that is) crossing of the atlantic, although more wind would have been nice (I have this feeling we are going to be getting the shit kicked out of us on our return trip). Everybody got into the routine of the continuous schedule that it takes to sail for a week straight. Our arrival in Nuuk seemed a little anticlimactic given our relaxing sail across. None the less, it was great to be in Greenland. I really have enjoyed the trip up the coast with our pitt stops along the way. Our list of firsts is growing by the day (not climbing though). I spent a couple of great days sea kayaking with Angela and the group of us have managed to get out on a couple adventures along the way. So, after getting 800 miles above the Arctic Circle, we finally got to our proposed wall. What a disapointment to find out that it is a heap of shit. The good thing about the heap is that we were able to back track a little to Sanderson's Hope. This is by far the most impressive wall we have seen along our trip. The wall has seen one ascent last year but lucky for us they left a very proud line for us. This route looks like the nose on El Cap in Yosemite. The climbing so far has been within our free climbing ability. We have climbed two days and are six long pitches up. There was also one day spent hauling and Keri and Angela joined us for the three pitches, which was really cool. They really seemed to enjoy the experience. We have been slow thus far but we seem to be getting into the rhythm. Today we are going to commit to the wall. Uuuggghhh, more hauling, but progress should speed up once we are established on the wall. - Jia Gregs Journal 5 August 2001 The three weeks between bidding farewell to Duncan in Nuuk and arriving here in Upernavik seems to have flown by. We ambled up the coast making frequent stops, the most enjoyable of which was in the magnificent Evighedsfiord. Out came the hiking boots and kayaks and we explored the environs of the Tassiusaq anchorage, getting our "land legs" back and pretending to be fit again. Chris managed to make a good enough pretence of this to ascend the peak of Amaussuaq that dominates the skyline of the punchbowl in which we were anchored. I made a paraglider descent from the flank of this mountain, landing right next to Northanger in calm conditions. Heading north, we stopped in Faeringe Nordhavn, Aasiaat, Qeqertarssuaq before finally reaching another "Tassiusaq" anchorage at 72 36 N which is the beginning of our area of climbing interest. The rock walls in this area, although high, we judged to be of too poor quality for good climbing and so we again moved north,heading for the expedition's objective of the Qagsserssuaq peninsula. The magnificent prow of the Sandersons Hope cliff, among several other prospects, was duly noted along the way. Using local knowledge gained in Upernavik, we found a path through the massive glacial outflow of Upernaviks Isfjord, motoring amongst the freshly calved icebergs which will someday end up on the Grand Banks of Newfoundland. As soon as we turned the corner of the Qagsserssuaq peninsula at 73 05 north, we were forced to swallow our disappointment. Walls of loose, rotting rock confronted us in the glow of the midnight sun. We could now see what the much pored-over aerial photos could not tell us - the rock here would not yield any objectives worth the effort of climbing them. The decision was easily made to return to Sandersons Hope (30 miles south) and make an attempt on what we judged to be the proudest line on the prow of this 800 to 900 meter cliff that rises direct from the fiord of Sorte Hul (Black Hole). Northanger nosed her way into a snug little anchorage within view of the wall and was soon trussed up in her spiders-web of shorelines, safe for the moment. As I write, I hear the unmistakable sound of carabiners being sorted and water bottles being filled. Better go and join them......... (A footnote about Sandersons Hope. I first saw this massive rock wall from far out in Baffin Bay in 1988 when I was aboard Northanger on her transit of the Northwest Passage. The image was duly squirreled away in my memory as a possible objective for the unknown future. Keri and I made a close pass of the cliff last year during the descent from our winter over in the Canadian Arctic and verified the quality of the rock, but were astounded to find another sailboat in the vicinity with a party of climbers aboard with the same idea in mind. The Rev Bob Shepton on Dodos Delight managed to put his crew ashore to boldly sieze the first ascent of the cliff in a stormy September. In our collective opinion though, they did not select the proudest line on the "nose" of the wall which forms the image of it that has stayed with me all these years. This line also seems to have siezed the imaginations of the rest of our team, so it is this that we will go to climb, hopefully to make a free ascent in the cleanest style possible) Skipper's Log July 30, 2001 Wind, Northerly - 5 knots.
July 21, 2001 Engine off 65 52.83N - 52 47.95W. Anchored inbetween two islands in Tasiussaq Bay, Evigedsfjord where Bill Tilman
anchored Mischeif in 1963. Tied bow & stern line ashore. Surrounded by
rugged, glacier covered mountains from 4 to 7000 feet high. Here for a
few days to get in shape. July 14, 2001 Greg's Journal
July 13, 2001 Keri's Journal - Nuuk, Greenland
Crew Question of the week - July 14, 2001 What is your goal on this trip?
July 1, 2001 Position -- 61 degrees 25 minutes N -- 51 degrees 46 minutes W (61 25N- 51 46W). We R approx 24 hours from making landfall
at Faringe Havn, an abandoned village just south of Greenlands capital,
Nuuk. Motor sailing in light NE winds. Northanger & crew well with
visits by pilot whales & myriad birds (skuas, kittiwakes, fulmars,
arctic terns, murres, petrels). Only a few icebergs on the Labrador
side. Lots of fog & drizzle but no complaints - could be worse.
Everyone looking frwd to reaching land. (tho no one seasick this trip so
no gorry, tell all photos). Learning how to work Angelas digital camera
so we can snd U phots from Nuuk...ugh! Nxt trip we bring a computer
expert. |
Motoring north along the west coast of Disko Island. Sky
is overcast, temperature about 10 degrees. Had a small piece of rope
caught in the prop but we were able to get it out with the boat hook. A
few hours ago we left the main settlement of Qeqertarsuaq (Godhavn)
where we had refueled (too much motoring!) and visited with friends Mads
& Lene. Now we are heading north towards the mysterious wall that Jia
and Chris are getting anxious to climb. Last night, we perused the only
chart we have of the area, the aerial photos and geological maps and
wondered if we were going to be able to find a suitable anchorage in the
area. All the waters are uncharted in the fiords North of Upernavik -
unknown ground for a sailing boat our size. The local hunters scour the
fiords in their small runabouts but since Northanger draws 3.3 meters
with the keel down, there may be rocks underwater to discover. Exciting
stuff, glad we are made of steel. All is well aboard with crew and we
have become a good working team, the routines of life aboard being
adapted by all. (I must add that Angela had her first successful toilet
experience this morning - no blockages).
Arriving in Nuuk was a welcome relief from the gloomy grey North Atlantic crossing. After making landfall at Faeringehavn in a thick fog, the weather cleared to reveal the majestic mountainous coast of Greenland. It even became warm enough to consider a quick swim, although I can say that "quick" was more descriptive than "swim".
Even though the Atlantic was remarkably benign this year, our passage across was not entirely without incident. Catching the remnants of a fishing net in the propellor forced Jia to don the drysuit in mid ocean to swim down and cut it free. Fortunately the sea was relatively calm and he managed without too much difficulty. A few days of fast sailing out of St Johns with some fine spinnaker runs soon gave way to light northerly winds and cold, foggy conditions, necessitating a lot of motoring. No ice was encountered on the passage, even though the lack of visibility kept us glued to the radar for most of the trip.
We are now tying up a few loose ends on the boat preparations in the comparative safety of Nuuk harbour before setting sail for the north in search of vertical relief.
It's hard to believe that it was less than two weeks ago that we untied from the dock in Port Kirwan, Newfoundland and sailed first for St. Johns to stock up and say our goodbyes, and then continued on to Greenland. Eight days after leaving Newfoundland, we made our first land at Faringe Havn, an abandoned village 30 miles south of Greenland's capital, Nuuk. After allowing for a two week passage, it was an unexpected pleasure to have had such a short passage, albeit we were forced to motor about half the way.
All of us seem to have weather the passage with no nasty instances of the infamous "mal de mer". Perhaps this was due to our keen desire to document all aspects of life aboard on film and footage of someone puking over the side is up on the list of scenes to get. We did get some great footage of Angela blocking the dunny. She's been a very good sport and during the numerous protests of our head, (marine lingo for toilet) she has allowed me to interview her during the thick action of the blockades.
Now we are tied to the jetty in the busy fishing harbour of Nuuk, everybody exploding from the confines of the boat to explore the city and it's environs. We will re-provision and finish up some of the "to do's" on the boat work list before heading north to our ultimate destination - the big wall in the Upernavik area.
Jia - "To free climb"
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