Butterfly Bay
August 9th began with a sunny visit to Butterfly Bay, on the Hall Peninsula of Baffin Island.
Soon after landing I took this photo, which covers only a small portion of the view. Numerous small streams, originating in the melting snow, cross a rocky plain.
After our group had worked its way forward across streams and rocky humps, this was the view looking back towards the ship.
As we tramped further away, the ship grew smaller, and the stone hillocks grew taller.
We reached a high point and gazed around.
In this video from the top, you'll see that arctic bugs were out today. These didn't bite but they could end up in your ears, eyes, or nose. I wore a net over my hat.
Just outside the bay, there were plenty of icebergs to admire.
We returned to the shore, and both staff and guests worked to clear the beach of several sacks' worth of man-made debris, including plastic shards, plastic fishing floats, plastic fishing nets, and such.
On our return to the ship I took this photo of a map showing our course from the start of this second leg of our journey at Kangerlussuaq to here, at Butterfly Bay (click to enlarge).
Monumental Island
Then the Explorer sailed for Monumental Island, named indirectly for Sir John Franklin, leader of a famous doomed 1845 expedition. Just north is Lady Franklin Island, named for Sir John's wife, Jane Griffin, who sponsored seven expeditions to find her husband, her husband's remains, or, in the final 1875 expedition, any documentation that may have been left behind.
The Explorer was here particularly because walrus sometimes haul out in the area. Joan and I were in the second shift of zodiac tours around Monumental Island -- there are sufficient zodiacs to take half of a full ship. The island was still well illuminated when the first shift set out.
Mist was settling over the island when we set out.
This photo looks back at the ship, and it's rapidly disappearing.
The first shift had spotted a polar bear, a notion substantiated by photographs, but at the reported position, he had either moved on or was cloaked by mist:
Our zodiac became the unofficial leader of a flotilla.
As we continued the circumnavigation we reached a sunnier spot with an intriguing channel.
We were still being followed.
When we emerged from the channel the Explorer was playing peek-a-boo with us.
By now we had at least four following zodiacs, if you assume that each person standing up is a zodiac driver.
We nosed into a small cleft in the rock face, and each of us had a chance to touch Monumental Island.
This zodiac found its own spot to investigate.
The water was exquisitely clear, and sometimes, in this narrow channel, shallow.
There were no walrus, but it was still an enjoyable outing. As we waited our turn to reboard the Explorer, we circled this fabulous iceberg. Chunks have broken off this face.
The far side is entirely different, and has two distinct components; clearly this berg has flipped its orientation several times.
Our return to the Explorer was followed by a late dinner.
Lower Savage Islands
The Lower Savage Islands, just off the southeastern tip of Baffin Island, were our first destination the next day, August 10th.
In the morning we had zodiac cruises around the island in a cold drizzle. Dressed properly, with warm layers covered by waterproof layers, I found that an hour's ride was in the zone in-between "comfortable" and "bearable." I didn't, however, try to sneak aboard a zodiac for a repeat ride. Due to the rain and wind I didn't take any photos. My point-and-shoot, capable as it is, doesn't have a protective lens hood, while my fingers are the body part that suffers most from the cold. And the trigger button is difficult to press completely with a gloved hand.
The first zodiac saw a polar bear, but we didn't. For me, the geology of the island was its main attraction. To quote from Tom Ritchie's Daily Expedition Report,
The islands appear to be either granitic or gneissitic in nature.
They may actually be a combination of both, meaning some areas are
simply exposed intrusive igneous material, i.e. granite, and other
areas are exposed metamorphosed material, perhaps granite that has
been changed into gneiss through the effects of intense heat and
pressure. There is some obvious banding or foliation typical of
metamorphism, but there is also much evidence of exfoliation, a
process by which relatively thin layers of rock peel off from granite
surfaces that occur from pressure release when the overlying burden
is eroded away and the surface expands.
Hydrothermal vents must have been active here in the distant past,
judging by the impressive coatings of rust and sulfur compounds that
seem to have emanated from many of the cracks. The geology has also
been affected by glacial carving, judging from the smooth, rounded
surfaces in the lower areas. Jagged, angular rocks in the upper
regions give evidence of having been severely fractured and broken up
by freeze-thaw effects.
On returning to the ship, I took this picture of the bridge.
On the bridge a whiteboard keeps a count of polar bear spottings, breaking them down by whether the initial spotter was ship's crew, staff, or passenger. All spottings, however, must be confirmed by a passenger. Polar bear cubs are a special subcategory.
In the afternoon the Explorer turned into Frobisher Bay, heading towards Iqaluit, where we would disembark tomorrow. It was time to pack, but once that was done, Joan and I were back on the bridge. Occasional glaciers drooped down the mountainous edges of the bay.
As if to bid us goodbye, a pod of bowhead whales appeared.
Then it was time to dress for the Captain's Farewell Cocktail Party, and dinner.
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.
