Sailing Seabelle Seabelle

14th July 2024: Down the river to Tuk

Sun, 14 Jul 2024 00:00:00 +0000

And we’re off! After 10months of patiently sitting in the harsh arctic climate, Seabelle is back on the move. With a raw sense of excitement, we wave good bye to Willy one last time as we pull away from the dock at 9pm. It feels both strange and wonderful at the same time to be on the move again. With no wind at all, we glide through the peaceful meanders of the majestic MacKenzie river. The absolute stillness offers a perfect reflection of the bordering trees and a dramatic mirror of the textured skies, only fractured by our wake.
We’ve split the watches in chunks of 2 hours, shorter than usual since hand steering may be required. The temperature has cooled only slightly and unfortunately, the mosquitoes are happily taking a ride with us.
I am excited to take over Francis watch at 3am. Perched on the starboard aft hatch, with the sweet hum of a working engine, I remember our tow up last fall as we pass by the same landmarks. Memories of the challenges we had to face - as you are forced to when you break down in the middle of the arctic – come flooding back. Now, alone on deck, with Bruce Springsteen singing his River and a soft light of the morning sun that never sets, I am relishing one of these overwhelming moments of utter happiness. I am home.
As we continue north and approach the mouth of the river, trees become scarce. Soon there will be none, only the desolate arctic tundra.
We soon reach Kitti, or Kitti – gazuit area, the shallowest part of the river and its narrowest channel. Here in the delta, the MacKenzie deposits tons of silted sediments before draining into the arctic ocean. The water is at its lowest level the locals have seen in 90 years. There is hardly more than last fall and we have to hold our breath a handful of times as we watch the depth sounder dips below 1m. We timed our passage here for high tide and with our centerboard lifted and free to bounce up should we hit the bottom, we successfully pass the shallows with relatively little stress. The tidal range isn’t large, just over half a meter but with so little depth, every centimeter counts!
The timing is perfect, the wind has now picked up and we raise the sails up for the first time since last September as we enter the ocean. It is always a wonderful feeling to see the big white canvas above our heads after a long winterization. With 18knots of wind from behind, gusting 24, we make good speed averaging 6 to 7 knots on a wing on wing sail set up, allowing the westerly breeze carry us comfortably to Tuk, occasionally surfing the baby waves. It is still fairly shallow, only 2m below the keel, so we keep our daggerboard retracted half way. The clouds have made way to a blazing sun and with flat waters, we enjoy perfect sailing conditions.
By 2.30pm, we’re tied up alongside the Gruben’s dock in Tuk. With no real pressure of time as the ice still blocks our way further west, we allow ourselves to catch up on much needed sleep.

13th July 2024: humble thanks to our Inuvik angels, we are good to go!

Sat, 13 Jul 2024 00:00:00 +0000

The last provisioning is completed and we are almost ready to depart! The coast is clear all the way to Hershel island but the north coast of Alaska is still blocked with pack ice. We have set the departure to tomorrow evening in order to time the shallows of Kitty at the entrance of the river with high tide. Seabelle has spent almost 10 months in Inuvik, in the safe hands of Northwinds and Gruben. Saying goodbye to Kurt and Floyd at the office, brought a sense of reality that departure is indeed imminent. We have been blessed with this amazing improvised setup for Seabelle and we are eternally grateful to the people who made possible. With sincere humbleness, this is a indebted shoutout to Floyd, who made the connection with Kurt in fall and was instrumental in getting things moving when we felt stuck in Tuk, to Kurt, the big boss and founder of Northwind without whom kind heart, none of it would have been possible. His hands on tireless energy and self less generosity are truly inspiring as a recipe for success. And of course, Willie – our go-to man and kindest soul, making everything possible and effortless. The use of his truck proved beyond helpful for provisioning and getting gaz. There has been many other helpers here, special mention needs to be made to locals Doug and Clinton for giving Calin his much loved social life.
Last week, we eagerly collected the 3rd member of Team Seabelle, Francis from New Zealand. With some degre of sailing experience and a liking for polar travel, he is mad enough to join our adventure until Nome, Alaska, giving us a welcoming hand for the long passage through the ice and down the Bering Strait.

23rd June 2024: Inuvik good times!

Sun, 23 Jun 2024 00:00:00 +0000

Back onboard for 2 weeks now and we are pleased to report there has been virtually no damaged from the long winterization. We launched back in the water yesterday and the procedure went super smoothly and surprisingly fast. We are very lucky to be in the good hands of Willie, the foreman on site. He is very knowledgeable and thinks well ahead of any risk of damage. Not to mention his ability to handle the diggers like he was born on one! We have checked most systems now, including the engine, the power and navigation systems, the fresh water system, the toilets. We did have to change the water pump but otherwise all good. With time in our hands, an enjoyable laid-back routine has settled in and long overdue projects are finally being completed.

Calin reunited with his local mates from last fall, Doug and Clinton and has swapped basketball for fast-pitching (kind of baseball) and golf, sometimes playing well into the night as we are witnessing some fabulous summer weather with 24 hours sunlight. The forever sunset is also a great invitation to my daily yoga practice. With the Northwind barge close by, we have been very lucky to be allowed to use their facilities, making living onboard – even on the hard – a very comfortable experience. We haven’t been able to fill our tanks with water but with we’ve been able to carry jerrycans back onboard reasonably easily. The heat has dried up up the mud in the yard and turned it into a field of fine dust, getting everywhere on board. Much of the days are spent dusting off every object and today, being in the water and having direct access to the river, we are able to throw some buckets on deck and turn Seabelle back to a white sailing yacht!
Project-wise, Calin disassembled the windlass that had given us trouble and we are waiting for parts to complete the maintenance, including a spare motor. My Sailrite sewing machine has become my daily companion and I finally replace the ripped zipper on our sailpack, complete new tetherlines and a cover for stowing the new H flue of the Refleks – hopefully this new flue will prevent blowbacks in windy conditions.
The 21st marked the summer solstice and Indigenous Day in the NWT. This caused some great local celebrations and we enjoyed the display of local crafts, fun games with the local kids and a great show of traditional outfits and dancing. Last night was the yearly Midnight fun run and together with Doug and Clinton, we all ran 10k around the town under a beautiful midnight sun. Unfortunately, the soaring heat has also brought millions of hungry mosquitoes from the swamps of the river delta and we have been ferociously attacked! Ironically, this is probably the hottest we’ve had Seabelle in the 7 years we’ve owned her and we are forced to build mosquito nets around the hatches to keep them open.

08th June 2024: We are back on board!

Sun, 09 Jun 2024 00:00:00 +0000

We are back onboard!

And what a wonderful feeling to find our Seabelle safe and sound, just as we left her. We meticulously check every inch of the boat for winter damage – we hear the temperatures went down to -57°C. At first approach, It seems she survived the winter very well. The only visible damage so far are a couple of broken glass soy sauces (luckily, in a container) and our inclinometer has broken. Other than that, all seem in good condition. If anything, the dryness of the arctic winter has left zero mould inside. What a relief!
Over the next few weeks, we will go through all our systems and ensure everything is good working order before continuing our journey. While the ice left the river only last week, the arctic ocean is still heavily packed and we don’t expect to get out of here until mid-july. We allowed plenty of margin in case of any damage following the harsh winter, shipping of any spare parts does take a long time to get up here. Fingers crossed, all systems are good!

30th August 2023 – Bernard Harbour

Wed, 30 Aug 2023 00:00:00 +0000

Coming out of Cambridge Bay, we tacked into 17-22kt of wind. By midday, the wind became light so we continued under motor. We had to keep an average of 5.5kt for this passage in order to make it to the sheltering Bernard Harbour, close to Teddy Bear island (cute name!) before the next NW gale was predicted to hit at 2100 on Monday 28th. The wind returned in the night and we sailed happily with a 15kt south easterly breeze.
But despite good visibility and no ice, the passage to Teddy Bear Island was far from cozy. Our Refleks diesel heater has been given us a lot of trouble. In Cambridge Bay, we kept getting blowbacks with the high winds, filling the boat with a horrible diesel fumes. Although the diesel heater remained off, the smell has been lingering so badly we had to keep the hatch open the whole time, transforming Seabelle into a walking fridge. With near 0 degrees inside, we almost had to laugh about it. But when you come in from your watch withstanding icy winds, 0 degrees feels almost warm!

We anchor beside Caprivi in Bernard Harbour in the early afternoon and soon Thindra and Sentijn also joins us. We meet ashore and check out the remnants of the old Hudson Bay fuel tanks before the storm hits us. It always feels good to stretch the legs after a passage.
Safely tucked in, we can hear the wind howling through the mast and it feels so cozy inside. After an indulgent sleepin and a substantial brunch, we take the opportunity to do an oil change on our Yanmar and fix my boots that have been taking on water - not a pleasant omen in these icy waters.

Once it is deemed safe to venture outside, we all gather for dinner on Thindra and enjoy a really fun evening. It always amazes me how space on a boat can become almost infinite when we gather a bunch of sailors, there is always room for all - yet it seems to shrink to nothing when one tries to find storage space.

We tentatively deploy the fishing net that the estonian crew of SY Admiral Belhaussen had kindly donated to us in Cambridge Bay but regrettably there'll be no arctic char caught this time.

26th August 2023 - Cambridge Bay

Sun, 27 Aug 2023 00:00:00 +0000

After the not so pleasant first evening, our pitstop here was really fun and sociable. A good night sleep brought us back to life, refreshed and energized. We woke up with Sentijn anchored right behind us. It is so nice to see them again! Calin went to shop for a new exhaust spinning flue for the Refleks to stop blowbacks in windy conditions. We topped up on our diesel and with jerry cans carried back and forth to the boat, we replaced the 220 litres used since Arctic Bay.
In the evening, we were invited on board the Estonian flag S.Y Admiral Belhaussen, a superb 28m luxury sailyacht. Their owners, Mariis and Tiit Pruuli with their son and crew are such wonderful people with tons of fascinating travel stories and together with Sentijn and the whole Thindra crew, it is again a wonderful gathering of enthusiastic adventurers. I love these social evenings and one of the rewards of audacious and unfrequented travels is to meet amazing humans that inspire you to explore beyond your own limitations.
The next day, we agree to join Sentijn and Thindra to a burger in the local joint in town. We haven’t eaten out for so long it feels like a real treat! Sadly Caprivi is missing from the equation as they decided to skip Cambridge Bay all together, not requiring any provision nor fuel.
Before we know it, we are underway again, departing Cambridge Bay in unison with Sentijn and Thindra, heading west towards Bernard Harbour/Teddy Bear Island, our next pit stop to wait for weather.

23-25th August 2023: an almost clear Victoria strait and arrival in Cambridge Bay

Sat, 26 Aug 2023 00:00:00 +0000

While we seem to have no luck with polar bears, we are much more fortunate with ice. The Victoria straight is normally still pretty packed with ice (and it was 2 weeks ago), compelling a detour of 150 miles via Gjoa Haven – which is what Amundsen did in 1903 and he was stuck there for 2 winters before finally discovering the Northwest Passage. An even more compelling story is that of captain Sir John Franklin who set out in 1845 from England. Both of his ships HMS Erebus and HSM Terror got icebound and eventually sank. Sadly and despite several intensive searches commissioned by Franklin’s loving wife, all 129 men perished.
But fortunately for us, that big Lancaster storm pushed everything out of the way and the Victoria strait is mostly clear. There is still a long band of ice according to the last ice chart and we mark its predicted location on our TimeZero chart, sailing along 6 miles off it. It is blowing 20 knots and with the wind on our starboard quarter, we enjoy beautiful, albeit cold, sailing conditions. The temperature has again dropped to 2°C, much colder with the will chill, bringing an invigorating energy in the arctic air. Because of the proximity of the ice, we are unable to go below even for a minute to warm up or prepare a hot drink, so we have reduced the watches to 2.5 – 3 hours. Another 24 hours and we’ll catch up on sleep in Cambridge Bay! At 13.30, we encounter sea ice, about 2/10 concentration, and we carefully weave our way through for the next 1.5hour, still sailing but with the engine on idle, just in case.
Another night brings a lovely calm passage through the Icebreaker Channel, SE of Victoria Island. Finally, at 2130, after tacking up Queen Maud gulf with Thindra just 5nm behind, we are securely tied up the wharf in Cambridge Bay. Immediately, we are met by a dozen curious (and bored) local children of various ages. And while it is first lovely and fun, they soon proceed to their favourite past time – throwing rocks at windows. It is not personal, we saw a lot of this in Arctic Bay. Up here in Nunavut, almost every car has a broken windshield from rock throwing! But after repeatedly and kindly asking them to stop (and also not jump onboard without permission), we decide to move to anchor, the need of a good night sleep prevailing over anything else.

22nd August 2023: Pitstop at Fort Ross and we are through the Bellot strait!

Tue, 22 Aug 2023 00:00:00 +0000

After tacking into 7 to 25 knots, we are the first to arrive at the former trading post of Fort Ross, right at the start of the Bellot strait. One by one, after following and passing each other for 2 days, the sailing fleet drops anchor in front of the old Hudson Bay hut. It is 10pm and the nights are getting darker by the day although we still have a faint twilight throughout the night. established in 1937 and abandoned 11 years later. Along with Caprivi who arrived right after us, we explore the derelict post manager house nearby, keeping an eye out for possible polar bears (it turns out one was spotted right after we left!). Fort Ross was the last trading post established by the giant Hudson Bay company in 1937 and was abandoned 11 years later. Its store is now a hut well appreciated by NWP sailors and many have left their marks on the walls and wooden posts. With bunk beds and emergency food, it is regularly used today by hardy hunters. Soon, Thindra then Sentijn joins us in the hut and all take part around the table for a mighty taste of a bottle of rum, kindly brought by Caprivi. And right here in Fort Ross, at 11pm on August 22nd, it is a fine reunion of mighty sailors telling tales of our last passage and worries to be.
The plan was to stay the night to catch up on much needed sleep and leave in the morning. But a last look at the weather forecast and tide radically reverses this rejoicing fantasy and the decision is made to leave within the hour. Utterly exhausted, and slightly drowsy from the rum, we forcibly gather the reminder of energy to lift up the anchor and get under way again, right behind Thindra. Caprivi and Sentijn decide against leaving right away and will catch up with us down the line.
The current can be fierce in the Bellot strait, reaching 8 knots and changing direction with the tide, sometimes twirling chaotically. Today, the strongest favourable current was 4 knots at Macpie Rock and although it was choked with ice a couple of weeks ago, it is completely clear today and our eyes can remained peeled on the shoreline for possible polar bears, which are often spotted here. Sadly, we don’t get to see any (Caprivi will get to spot 7 there the next day, not fair!). At 4am, my banana bread comes out hot from the oven, an irresistible celebration treat if I may say as we pass point Zenith, the most northern point for the American continent.
Determined to see polar bears as a lot of the other cruisers seem to have observed, we proceed to detour via Prince of Wales Island where Uggly Betty saw heaps of wildlife. Sadly, no bear, no belugas, no animals for us. We just don’t seem to be in the right place at the right time, sometimes that’s how the wildlife cookie rolls. And after a couple of hours of idling looking at rocks, through fog at times, we proceed on towards Cambridge Bay.

19-21st August 2023: Passage to the Fort Ross: we hit ice!

Mon, 21 Aug 2023 00:00:00 +0000

The alarm goes off at 4am and peeling myself out the cosy bed is bed is hard. Catching the end of the storm, we face strong headwinds and tack our way up Admiralty. It is about 50 miles on a straight line to the corner with Lancaster Sound and it will take us the whole day to get there. There is still a lot of residual sea after the storm. With 2m swell and winds in the face, Seabelle is rock and rolling and not before long, I find my head in the bucket. To make things worse, I picked up the bout of flu that little Dean (SY Sentijn) and Jossiah (SY Caprivi) had battled in Arctic Bay, leaving me with no energy and the wish to crawl below and die. Luckily, Calin thrives in those upwind conditions and allows me to remain in bed while he’s having fun racing Caprivi and Sentijn who have caught up with us. Every now and then, he come below to give me an excited update.

When I finally find the energy to get up and relieve Calin, the winds are very confused and the night is a battle of the mind. One moment, it’s blowing 15-17knots from our stern and I unfurl the genoa. 10 mins later, the wind drops to 5 knots and all the sail flaps. I lift the daggerboard, furl in and motor. 15mins later, we heal with 17 knots and again, so I stop the engine, drop the daggerboard and unfurl. Only for another 10mins. Daggerboard, furl, start motor. And again and again. Eventually I give up trying and with much frustration, we motorsail throughout most of the night. As the light wind is dead behind, I struggle to keep the main sail from flapping. As I focus on adjusting the traveller to find the best angle for the sail, I suddenly hear a big bang following but a loud crunch under the keel. The boat vibrates as if we were experiencing an earthquake and I know straightaway I’ve hit ice. My heart sinks and I feel powerless. The couple of seconds it takes for the berg to pop out aft feel like an eternity. The berg is the size of a Harley, big enough for major damage to our centerboard, left locked half way, shaft and rudder. Calin jumps out through the hatch, wide awake in the middle of his sleep. With the sinking feeling that irreversible damage was made, we check everything. The bilges are dry and there is no water coming in. Steering hard to port then starboard is still smooth and functional so the rudder is fine. There is no vibration or unusual sound to the engine so the shaft and prop are fine. With ultimate relief, we bring the centerboard all the way up so it has not been bent. The only damage sustained is the outer sleeve of the line preventing the centerboard to come up has been shredded through the clutch leaving exposed the thin dyneema core, an easy fix luckily. We suspect that we rode over the the berg with the centerboard, deflecting its trajectory and thus saving our prop and rudder. Shaky but tremendously relieved, I continue my watch standing high on the aft lockers and not taking my eyes off from the sea ahead for even one second. What are the odds that I hit the only piece of ice I’ve seen in my entire watch.

The air temperature has dropped to 1.4 degree and the sea temp to 0.4. The water pump has been sounding a bit weird and when we check our water tank through the clear inspection hatch, we notice it has partly frozen! Large ice bits are floating about so we crank the heater to max in the hope of warming up the floor. It doesn’t really work but at least, we have a super warm and cozy interior for a few hours!

Coming from Pond Inlet, Thindra has now reunited with us and so together with Caprivi and Sentijn, we continue our way through Lancaster Sound and into Prince Regent Inlet. Along the way, under a cotton-like textured sky, we come across a large pod of whale. We sail amongst them watching their blow from afar. They are all around us and we sail amids their blow and flicking tails. They have no dorsal fin and we suspect they are bowhead whales.

12-18th August 2023: Arctic bay – waiting out the Lancaster storm

Fri, 18 Aug 2023 00:00:00 +0000

We ended up spending almost a week in Arctic Bay, much longer than what we had anticipated. The storm in Lancaster Sound has been ferocious and the wind has been blowing consistently here in the bay. We eventually had to reposition to the other side of the bay to get protection when the wind shifted south easterly. For days it was blowing over 30 knots with record gusts well over 40. Fortunately our anchor held well throughout and with an anchor alarm set, we didn’t feel the need to stay up and do watches. Meanwhile, the wind was blowing even harder in Lancaster sound and Ugly Betty, tucked on the northern side of it in Burnett Inlet recorded gusts of 67 knots.

On the plus side, all this high wind broke up the sea in Lancaster and pushed it all the way west, leaving the strait clear when we are ready to go. As the wind eased in Arctic Bay but still blowing too much in Lancaster, it 's been frustrating to sit tight knowing the passage is finally clear of ice and wouldn’t remain so for long. But through the hurricane sounds of the rigging, it hasn't been all bad. Actually, we've been having a pretty good time here. We caught up regularly with Caprivi and Sentijn and we even had a game night on here which was really good fun. Tonight is our last night and we got together on the beach around a lovely bonfire. Jade from Caprivi baked a delicious chocolate brownie cake in her cast iron pot over the flames and we ate it on rock slates found on the beach. What a lovely bunch of people and hanging out with them made being stuck here much more bearable and entertaining.

We also went hiking with Caprivi and Sentijn (and half the village kids!) to the top of the hill for a nice view of the bay. Calin and I continued on to the little settlement on the other side. Not much of a settlement, more like the depot of snowmobiles and sleds. We met an 80 years lady who lives here in the summer with her husband and 103-year mother, she invited us into her rudimentary tent and we got a glimpse of her summer lifestyle. The tents are insulated but have no heating and other than a small cooking stove, it only contains a large tapchain covered with seal skins, making it somehow quite cozy and inviting. During the whole day, the sweet and genuinely inquisitive children aged 7-15 accompanied us and provided us with fun entertainment and an interesting insight of their inuit ways – all from a child perspective. I was amazed by their free spirit and sense of curiosity as well as their toughness. After all, hiking in the freezing cold in no more than a couple of layers (I had 4 and a hat!), no socks and old trainers full of holes is no mean feat for a child. Going for a mini dip in the freezing cold also seemed more fun to them than an amazing achievement.

That evening we carried on to what they call here “the Point” (at that stage, the kids were too tired to carry on and went home) where the women of the village observe the hunt of their husband from the shore and wait out patiently, sometimes hours, for the narwal catch to be brought in. Most of them are quite chatty and all welcoming. We find out that tusks are worth big money and a 3m one can fetch $9000 (about 6000€), enough for a snow mobile. Carcasses are littered on the beach, sometimes only the tusk and skin removed. It seems they dry up the skin to make jerky strips and use somewhat little of the meat for their own consumption. Most of it is given to the dogs, if that.. As a wildlife lover, it is hard to observe the distressing hunting technique, chasing the animal for hours, harassing it with riffle bullets so it can’t take deep breaths at the surface, making it slow and dizzy and harpooning it with a floating buoy so it can’t go down anymore and can’t sink when dead. Paradoxally, I understand that the locals rely on that tusk cash to survive the overly expensive cost of living in the Arctic. Somewhat relieved, the hunt tonight is unsuccessful and we hitch a ride back to town.

Somehow, time in Arctic Bay went by reasonably fast and we didn’t get to do any maintenance projects that we had envisioned. But we did catch up on a lot of sleep, and it felt wonderful to allow ourselves some very long guilt-free sleep ins. We lost our Starlink internet connection and it wasn’t easy to diagnose the problem without the possibility of googling what could be wrong. Calin eventually figured it was an issue with the cable. Interestingly, having the Starlink and access to unlimited fast internet wasn’t something we had planned for when we started the trip in England. We were quite happy to be off the grid with just the Iridium for weather, ice charts and the occasional basic updates to family and friends. But we have to admit that it became a little pleasurable treat whenever we would set it up an anchor. Miraculously, and beyond all hope, Calin managed to source a 2^nd hand cable by chatting with a friendly clerk at the supermarket. Arctic Bay only has about 1000 inhabitants but we are a long way from the old image of inuits wearing seal skins and ox furs and using dogs as their sole transportation to move from one isolated location to another. In 2023, everyone moves around with pickup trucks and snowmobiles in the winter and social connection via mobile phones and internet access is as normal as anywhere else in the western world.

We cleared in at the local police station – the RCMP (the Royal Canadian Mounted Police) and this was the best custom & immigration we’ve ever experienced! We were welcomed by two super friendly officers, Mark (Long) and Deano, totally incredulous to dust off their entry stamp for the 3^rd time in one week. It is rare for boats to make Arctic Bay their first stop in Canada (most clear in at Pond Inlet) and the stamp was brand new. We also had to temporary import our riffle and both looked at it with a sparkle in the eye like a kid receiving a new toy at Christmas – it is a new shiny riffle and they are used to old rusted weapon. We chatted for a very long time and they gave us an insight of the other side of the local community, the harsh reality of a bleaker one. Everyday they deal with bootlegging and alcohol related violence, something that ultimately the children suffer the most from. The government restricts alcohol in the 25 communities of Nunavut at various degrees and here it is prohibited to sell and buy locally. One can only buy alcohol online through the committee and this privilege is taken away with misbehaviour, spurring a nasty black market where a 1l bottle of vodka can sell for CAD $800.

Despite the difficulty of dealing with recurring infractions and violence, our two officers demonstrate an incredible amount of patience and empathy and have built strong ties with the community. Every day, children come to the station and after diligently mimicking the sergeant salute as instructed by the officer, they are given a stamp on their hand and skip back outside with stickers and smiles, a candid ritual that delivers lightness and giggles for all.

The weather is finally clearing and we'll catch the end of the storm tomorrow. Next hurdle: the Bellow strait!