Actually, the storm diverted the aircraft to Montreal, as Ottawa was impenetrable, so we transferred. Nonetheless, the flight to Iqaluit was smooth, as was the refuelling and the 2 ½ hour hop to Resolute Bay. Why does a 737 need to refuel on a 5 hour flight? Maybe Resolute is mean with its fuel. Wisely. Because it is even more bleak and desolate than it appears on Google Earth. There is a stuffed polar bear in the airport and a number of unashamed hunters on our ship. One, an 85 year old Italian/Australian wearing filthy trousers and a pilled old acrylic Guernsey told me he has sold his business for $1.8m Aus, but he loved his brave wife of 60+ years and now goes out killing stuff. And he reviles his daughters-in-law and showers blessings on his sons. I may henceforth avoid conversation. But to return…the chunky orange 1964 bus has ferried us through the ‘town’ of 480ish souls to the beach, past warehouses from which the roofs had been ripped and roof-gardens mangled by last winter’s winds. A couple of local folk came out on their quadbike to welcome the plane, both of them about 5’, cheerful, well-wrapped, and pleased to practice their English. We saw no other soul, though the huskies chained in the house plots (no vestige of a garden, of course) howled a greeting, and the sleds and skidoos lay idle. The Zodiacs, led by a rather self-important Scot ferried us to the ship. In slick fashion, luggage materialised over breakfast in cabins and Aaron Lawton, our leader, introduced the expedition. The ship is very similar to the Vavilov, but an inferior site for the bar is disappointing, and the staff are slightly more gauche and unsure that the Antarctic team. On arrival in the Mud Room, I was greeted warmly and personally by Peter Middleton, the Scottish/Canadian guide on Vavilov. I was delighted and amazed, until I realised that Adrian had preceded me and primed him. Professional nonetheless, and he has acknowledged us publicly since – minor celebs!
A couple from Canada have taken my attention; we drank with them in the airport bar, and again on board, but she is so well-informed about international events that she has to do it for a living – I shall probe. Adrian and his slate are a hit with the photographers and I have struck up a bond with the Expedition Leader. Reason? Sue Nally lent me a novel set in the Antarctic which I am now reading. The acknowledgement (how sad??) thanks Aaron Lawton and Bill Davis of the Iloffe. Bill was E.L. on Vavilov, and Aaron is the name I mentioned above. How weird is that?
We have just drunk the bar out of Argentinian Quilmes beer, and we only weighed anchor today. There are quite a lot of Brits on board, including a couple from Mablethorpe with whom we hatched a plot to twin it with Resolute Bay – electric wheelchairs/quadbikes/dreary hotels, lively winters, oil depot, fishing…the parallels are endless. Talking of parallels (well, latitudes) we are aiming to beat the ship’s record of 76°27’N. The paying passengers are interestingly different from the Vavilov lot, the age profile being a good ten years higher and the bar politics more argumentative. There are fewer rich Australian widows and more unstable wrinklies (does that include me, I ask myself…) The broken foot (yes, really – 5 weeks ago, due to a ski-ing accident down our staircase) (involving a cat) is holding up remarkably well. The scenery is bleak and barren, and so far the Northern fulmars and gulls have dominated the sightings. 4 polar bears (dots) and some seals recorded but too far away to photograph. Tomorrow will bring more! But now – we need sleep. None since 9am yesterday.