NWP 20. Grave situation

3-Sept-24 Beechey Island

0630hrs.

Bang.

Shudder.

What the.

Bow thrusters kick in at full power.

Wake from a deep slumber.

Something is up.

Peer out window.

Wow.

Memorable moment.

Silky smooth sea. Sun rise. Belt of sea ice. Ship just crashed through. Sun glinting off the sea. Rush to get camera for photo.

Scheduled to arrive at Prince Leopold Island at 0600hrs. For a sail past. It’s 0500hrs body clock time as clocks went forward again in the night. Now 6hrs behind UK.

Unlikely to ever see Prince Leopold Island again. So. Make the effort. But not too much effort. It being the middle of the night. Polar gear put on over jim jams. Again.

Quick look on deck 7 observation deck at the bow. Smattering of birders and wildlife enthusiasts. A fresh sprinkling of snow on deck like a dusting of icing sugar on a cake.

But. Worth the effort. The island protrudes vertically from the sea in sheer cliffs. Quite something to see after the low level and dry Arctic tundra.

Did I mention the snow.

Lots of it on the Arctic mesas of surrounding landscape. Completely different landscape. Flat topped mountains. This is what we have all been waiting for. Snow and ice. Did I mention the cold?

OMG.

The cold. This is proper cold. Biting cold. Quick photo. Back to bed. In warm and cosy cabin.

Jeez. It. Is. Cold. Today.

Miss Nottingham. Who is tracking me. Saw a fog bow on the ship’s webcam early in the morning our time. As I was in bed. I missed it. Thank God for Miss Nottingham.

Little Sister, we’ll call her Floss, though not to be confused with another little sister, Bloss, sends me a photo of ageing parents. Along the lines of all OK. It’s more like a proof of life photo. Keep them going for a few more weeks.

Approaching Devon Island the sea fog lifts and blue sky and sun sparkles on the snow white cliffs of the southern side of the island.

See more sea birds in one hour than have been seen the past week. Phenomenal bird activity. The reason. The cliffs. Somewhere safe to nest. Not like the low lying Arctic tundra.

Beechey Island is cold. Flipping cold. 1C but with a windchill down to minus 5C. Miss Brandon in Manitoba is laughing that I think that is cold. She’ll be thinking ‘wuss’. That’s tropical to her. Minus 20C is more like it in Brandon during winter.

Beechey Island famous as the location of three graves from the Franklin Expedition. John Hartnell. John Torrington. William Braine. All died on the island in 1846 as Sir John Franklin’s HMS Erebus and HMS Terror expedition wintered here on his fateful North West Passage.

In the days when men were men.

Definitely not the place to spend a winter. In minus 40C. Very dark. Very windy. Very barren. You would have to be a very hardy soul to tolerate all that. Had enough at minus 5C after an hour. Back to a hot shower and warm cabin.

In addition to the three graves are a further two from later expeditions. One marked by a ‘headstone’. One marked by a rock.

In the 1980s John Hartnell’s body was exhumed for research. Our resident archaeologist was involved with the exhumations and there at the time. The body had been very well preserved by the ice. A photo of the preserved body is at the very end of the photos below. So. Be warned. If you are squeamish.

The following year the other two bodies were exhumed.

Permafrost had to be thawed out with gas heaters. Once exhumed samples were taken from the bodies. Common belief was that all the men on board died of lead poisoning. From the lead sealing the food tins.

Whilst there were elevated levels of lead in the sample this correlated with lead levels in the general English population at the time. There was also evidence of tuberculosis and again at the time, there were elevated levels of TB in the UK population.

So. Scientists think that it wasn’t specifically lead poisoning but a combination of smaller things probably adding up to something bigger. Scurvy. Elevated levels of lead. Elevated levels of TB. Cold. Eventual death.

Once samples had been taken, the bodies were replaced in-situ. Where they remain a few feet underground. A few feet away from where I stand.

A poignant moment as I stand there looking at the graves and out to sea. So very remote. So very cold. A reminder of all the men (and it was men then) who explored this area over the centuries.

Full of admiration for the tortuous conditions they would have endured.

Proud to be British moment.

Ship sets sail past a yacht. No ordinary yacht. This has a helipad. And helicopter taking off for a pleasure flight. Yacht belongs to Larry Page. Former CEO of Google. Had to Google yacht’s name, Senses, to find it belonged to Google. How the other half live.

Further sunset Zodiac scheduled in Radstock Bay. Well. Relatively narrow inlet. We enter. We go to the end. Freezing cold on deck. Flipping windy. Secretly wishing Zodiac cruise cancelled. Cos clashes with dinner. And beer. And wine. It is cancelled. Too windy. Much more comfortable doing a ‘cruise by’. And warmer.

Continue along the southern coast of Devon Island. Evening briefing includes a ‘what do we have to pack for a shore excursion?’ demonstration. Arctic and Antarctic law says they have to pack enough shelter, water, rations etc for a 48hr emergency stop onshore.

A pack of Seven Oceans ration pack is passed around to try. Over the past few weeks a group of fellow Brits congregate on the back row of the lecture room. Like kids on the back seat of the top deck of school bus. Naughty corner. When briefings were before dinner at 1830hrs, before alcohol had been consumed, it was a steady affair. Now. It’s at 2030hrs. After dinner. When a few beers and glasses of wine have been consumed.

A giddy atmosphere.

Germans sit in front of us. There’s a few stereotypical characters. Who warrant a bit of mickey take.

Ration pack arrives at the back row Brits. It’s like eating sawdust. One starts giggling as can’t swallow it. It’s so dry. Chain reaction kicks in. We’re all giggling uncontrollably now. Each have a mouthful of sawdust we can’t really swallow.

I pass it on to the Germans and tell them it’s really nice. Just to get rid of the flipping stuff.

Which sets off another bout of uncontrollable giggling. From little old ladies no less. Tears streaming down our faces looking at ze Germans realising they’ve been conned.

It’s not nice at all. It’s bloody awful stuff!!