By the morning of August 6th, we had sailed far enough southeast along the northern shore of Baffin Island to re-encounter the phenomena of sunrise and sunset. The day would be, technically, 20 hours long.
Just after breakfast there was a polar bear announcement, and Joan and I dashed to the bridge. A large ice island had been blown close to the shore, and bears were prowling atop that expanse. Eventually six polar bears were spotted. Here are some pictures of our first sighting (click to enlarge).
He approached us, cautiously.
Within a few minutes he reached the limit of his comfort zone,
and turned away to our right, paralleling the edge of the ice.
This did not prevent us from watching his progress. He's the speck just left of center, near the top.
The ship maneuvered to face starboard, where an old bear was resting.
The younger bear continued to the right, and we wondered if he he would go far enough to reach the end of a channel in the ice. This would place him close to the old bear.
The old fella began to take notice, or at least to awaken from his nap. Was trouble brewing?
He decided not to take any action just yet.
He gave us a look, and then laid his head down again.
The other bear continued his march along the channel.
The Explorer pulled up to the edge of the ice near the old bear.
We waited to see what would happen. The older bear continued to rest, and the younger bear continued off to the right. There was no conflict, and eventually we sailed on.
An hour later, as the ship entered Isabella Bay, we encountered bowhead whales, which live only in arctic and sub-arctic waters -- they don't migrate to warmer waters for reproduction. Bowheads were an early whaling target, and the Baffin Island sub-population, once down to a few hundred individuals, is listed as endangered. Recent surveys over the last decade, although they vary wildly, indicate a population rebound to several thousand. The Canadian government designated this area off Isabella Bay as the Ninginganiq Wildlife Area in 2008, and only subsistence hunting by the Inuit population is allowed.
Bowheads have no dorsal fin, but sport the largest mouth of any animal. They are also known to live at least 200 years.
We started off seeing single whales, and then small groups. Because of the whales' shyness, my best photos were of bolder individuals.
Another look at the lack of a dorsal fin.
Bowheads are not as gymnastic as humpbacks, but do show some fluke when diving deep.
Another guest captured a fabulous shot when a whale crossed the bow of the ship, briefly exposing its head and mouth.
Then it was lunchtime. Soon the Explorer arrived at Arctic Harbor, near the head of Isabella Bay, and the staff prepared for our shore expedition. Here empty sacks await our life jackets.
The various groups reached dry land after a few wet steps.
A low swath of ground connects two high points, and on that spot are the graves of four whalers, the last remnants of a 19th-century British whaling station that existed here.
A few of the photographers, too enamored of obtaining the best shot, had to be reminded not to step on the graves.
Our group headed to the left, first along the beach on the far side of the connecting strand, and then close to the rocks at the foot of the hill on far left. We had a brief sighting of an American Pipit.
Then we began to climb the far side of the hill. Here we see Lindblad naturalist Ian Bullock leading us up, with Stevie Aulaqiaq standing guard in the background.
Ian did a fine job of coaxing us up the hill, stopping a few times to tell us about the landscape, and to let us catch our breath. He also asked if anybody felt it was time to turn around, but all were willing to keep going. Well warmed up, we arrived at the top. A rocky top.
Here's a video sweep from the high point. Our best views were more from the edge of the top, as you will see.
This photo shows the low connecting beach between our hill and the next, where we landed (on the right) and where the graves were.
From our perch we could see that the kayakers were out in force.
Our chosen route back down turned out to be rocky,
but everyone made it back.
With the sheltered waters and gorgeous weather, this afternoon was the time for the Polar Plunge. Whoever so wished could jump from a zodiac into the arctic waters and emerge quickly onto a platform. In this photo the zodiacs and platform are maneuvering into position.
Some folks jumped in feet first,
and some displayed their diving skills.
Neither Joan nor I jumped into the water.
That evening, after a busy day, we left Isabella Bay and continued southeast, towards the Cumberland Peninsula.
August 5th, Buchan Gulf, a fjord system of Baffin Island carved out by glaciers in ages past. Fog. Lots of fog. The morning light has a steely hue.
We waited more or less patiently, and the fog began to thin and lift.
The Explorer sailed deeper into the gulf, and the cliffs and glaciers of the fjord began to unveil.
Here's a closer look at one of the many glacial tongues lapping at the water.
Then narwhals showed up. These marine mammals, a toothed whale, are sometimes called the "unicorn of the sea" because of their tusk, which is a greatly elongated tooth. They shy away from humans, having been hunted by the Inuit in the past and under subsistence regulations today. Those photos of a pack of narwhal with tusks raised into the air? That happens only when they are concentrated in a small break in the ice. Normally they swim low in the water, tusk submerged.
We shadowed the narwhals for a while, but under the circumstances, this is the best photo I was able to take.
This fellow undoubtedly obtained a sharper, closer picture. I swear the lens is bigger than many backyard telescopes.
He needs one heck of a tripod.
Many of the glaciers here no longer reach the sea. But their meltwater does.
Looking back the way we had come, the view got better and better. And more impressive.
This glacier looks a mold taken of a dragon's tail. (I recently saw The Desolation of Smaug.)
A polar bear alert! Lunch is postponed while we watch this bear at rest, draped upon a rock. To understand how it takes a while to attune the eye to polar bears, consider my first photo of him; he's in the center. Click to enlarge. That's our usual dilemma: is it a white rock, or a polar bear? Where did the spotting scope go?
The ship creeps closer.
Eventually, the bear decides to move. Cameras click and whir.
The bear kept a steady rhythm: amble and pause, amble and pause. Here he pauses, and considers what manner of beast we might be.
After a delayed lunch we arrive at a glacial outwash to land and take walks. But first, a zodiac is lowered past our cabin window.
We go ashore in our waterproof boots and form into groups.
Joan and I are in one of two groups that are aiming to hike as far up the valley as we can in the time allotted. The ground near the stream is boggy, so we work our way along the hillsides.
The cliffs above us generate meltwater cascades every spring, leaving ridges of debris that force us up and down.
We continued towards the top of the gap, hoping to see a glacier, but the path kept curving on.
Even here, seemingly near the crest of the gap, the melt waters were rushing with vigor.
Near our turnaround point we spotted snow geese on the far side. They are the white spots in this photo.
Soon it was time to turn and make our way back to the beach, and a pulled-pork barbecue.
Here's equipment for two kinds of shooting. Fortunately, no polar bears were encountered while we were on foot.
The only way you can get here is by ship.
This would also be a good time to acknowledge our special expert on these waters, Captain Ray Jourdain, of Montreal. He joined us in Kangerlussuaq and his knowledge of the wildlife and ice conditions in Baffin Bay proved invaluable. In this photo, he's the gentleman everyone is clustered around.
The next day will take us to Isabella Bay and Arctic Harbor.
