For two nights after I got off the boat, I woke up in the middle of the night to a swaying bed. It took me a while in my sleepy state to work out that I was in fact no longer on the boat, but on dry land.
Then just over a week after getting off the boat, the queasiness returned. This time it was not caused by phantom boat rolling, but by the news that we had already broken the record for low sea ice extent in the Arctic.
This was not quite the end of August. The low sea ice extent in the Arctic usually occurs closer to the end of September, so it’s likely that we will continue to set new records for minimum sea ice extent over the next few weeks.
We needed to see it not just on satellite maps, but more as local people do – from the shores of their communities, from their boats, from their hunting camps.
A significant part of our ongoing project to help map out a future for the last ice area consists of consulting with the people in communities around the area. This is their back yard, and what they have to say about it matters. We had hoped to be able to observe Arctic wildlife to take photos and moving images to show people the rich diversity of life in this sometimes bleak and barren looking area.
In this we were often disappointed – sometimes we would catch tantalizing glimpses of something, only to have it move away, or for the weather to force us away. Finally, on the last leg, life at the ice edge partly revealed itself, in the shape of a small herd of muskoxen, a pod of narwhals, and a herd of walruses.
We also managed to contribute in a small way to the research that needs to be done in the area. Sampling salt marshes and seawater for evidence of what life lives there now will help in assessing how the area changes, and in helping project how it is likely to change.
On the way back from the boat, I flew to Resolute Bay to Iqaluit next to a professor from Colorado – he is an oceanographer who had been aboard the coastguard ship the Larsen, and scientists working with him had the opportunity to sample the water in the fiord in northern Greenland where a massive ice shelf, twice the size of Manhattan, has recently broken off. He believed this area of water had been under ice since the industrial revolution.
That is the challenge we face – a vast area, little visited, little researched that is changing so quickly and so radically. Our visit there was a snapshot – our engagement there in the coming years must deepen both our knowledge, and the world’s knowledge of this increasingly important place.

I’m writing this blog from Iqaluit, after a day of travel and transition, following the conclusion of Leg Three of the Sailing to Siku voyage.  It was with a tinge of sadness that we left the Arctic Tern to make our respective ways home, although it’s nice to no longer be confined to the cramped sleeping and galley spaces on a 47ft boat.  I still have a large bag of suspicious laundry and a lingering taste of sea brine in my mouth, but my feet are firmly planted on shore.

It’s too early for a definitive assessment of the trip but I can offer a few observations from my own perspective.  First of all, the biggest impression I got from traveling through this region by boat is its massive scale.  After two weeks, we saw only the south-eastern tip of Ellesmere Island, a short stretch of Devon Island and we barely scratched the northern tip of Baffin Island.  Even the comparatively ‘tiny’ Bylot Island is positively endless when you’re sailing along its coast at 6 knots.
We saw fewer whales than I’d anticipated.  There are tens of thousands of narwhal in the region, as well as healthy populations of beluga and bowhead and reported pods of aggressive orcas, but very few came within sight of our boat.  Partly that’s due to the sheer vastness of the waters – there’s lots of room for whales to hide.  And perhaps they were avoiding the sound of our motor.
If we saw few whales, there was definitely more ship traffic than we’d anticipated.  We encountered several ships over the two weeks of our trip – in Resolute Bay, Admiralty Inlet, Nanisivic, Navy Board Inlet and Pond Inlet.  Most were involved in the critically important sealift resupply of Arctic communities, while the ships in Pond Inlet were part of Canadian Navy and U.S. Coast Guard maneuvers/public relations.  It’s not a lot of traffic when compared with major shipping routes, but it’s a significant indication of the growing interest in and use of Arctic waters.  We were given a tour of the Terry Fox in Nanisivc, with its Polar Class 4 icebreaking capabilities, which allows it to bring supplies to communities that ordinary commercial ships are not qualified to sail in.  But as the demand for shipping services grows – and as the reach extends north into increasingly ice-free waters – it will become increasingly important to manage this growth carefully, and ensure that ships adhere to the best and safest practices.
I look forward to seeing the results of the phytoplankton samples that our on-board researcher Sophie took in the middle of Jones and Lancaster Sounds.  There’s a lot still to learn about this region, starting at the base of the food chain.
We were graciously received by the people in the communities we visited, starting in Grise Fiord, with a mid-trip stop in Arctic Bay and concluding our leg in Pond Inlet.  Many of the most experienced hunters were off on the land (or water), demonstrating their skills in securing abundant food and other necessities in this awe-inspiring environment, but we look forward to returning to continue and build on these initial discussions about future aspirations for the region.  And with Vicki Sahanatien now ensconced in WWF’s Iqaluit office, we’ll have opportunities to continue that dialogue.
Lastly, I was impressed and deeply grateful for the skill, hard work and good humour of our crew.  Grant, Pascale and Valentine did an outstanding job of keeping us safe and on course.  Together with my other ship-mates – Ed, Sophie and Vicki – we collectively fostered a spirit of camaraderie that more than made up for the cramped living quarters and other inconveniences of seafaring on a small boat.  Thanks to all of you!