Theme Layout

Boxed or Wide or Framed

[style4]

Theme Translation

Display Featured Slider

No

Featured Slider Styles

Display Grid Slider

Grid Slider Styles

Display Author Bio

Display Instagram Footer

Dark or Light Style

Search This Blog

Blog Archive

Followers

Popular Posts

Pages

Showing posts with label elisha kent kane. Show all posts
Showing posts with label elisha kent kane. Show all posts
Northwest Passage Voyage Begins Among Icebergs in Greenland

Northwest Passage Voyage Begins Among Icebergs in Greenland


So we're less than one week away from sailing Into the Northwest Passage with Adventure Canada. Are we excited yet? We're reversing the voyage I described below, starting among the icebergs of Greenland and wending to Kugluktuk . . . with history all the way! We head north into Smith Sound, and who knows? May yet discover that archaeological site on Butler Island!


CANADIAN VOYAGE MAKES HISTORY
Greenland
by Ken McGoogan


None of us expected our voyage to make history, not when we boarded the Clipper Adventurer in Kugluktuk (Coppermine), near the west end of the Northwest Passage. True, our cruise was billed as an expeditionary adventure. But we numbered roughly one hundred and twenty, most of us were over sixty, and we were sailing in comfort if not luxury: white linen tablecloths in the dining room, a well-stocked bar in the forward lounge, and a staff of expert presenters that included scientists, Inuit culturalists, and authors Graeme Gibson and Margaret Atwood.
Hundreds of ships had plied these northern waters since the early 180s, when the British Admiralty began to chart the Arctic archipelago while seeking a trade route across the top of North America. So nobody even dreamed of achieving a first of any kind. We forgot that climate change has made a difference. We did not anticipate that this year, the Arctic would have the second lowest extent of sea ice in recorded history. We did not expect that, according to the American National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA), the pack ice would reach its least extent just as we arrived in northwest Greenland.
But on September 10, one day after it did so, we sailed into Rensselaer Bay, where in the mid-1850s, explorer Elisha Kent Kane spent two terrible winters trapped in the ice. And three days after that, as on Day Thirteen of our voyage we approached the island town of Upernavik, I went to the bridge. As the staff historian, I needed to announce the surprising news.
By now, everybody on board knew that we had reached a latitude above 79 degrees. We had achieved a “farthest north” for Adventure Canada, which regularly runs voyages like this one into the Arctic. Everybody knew that, although a number of explorers had travelled by dogsled in this region, very few ships (if any) had entered Rensselaer Bay since 1853, when Kane got trapped there in the Advance. And everybody knew that in 1855 -- decades before Ernest Shackleton made his name with a spectacular, small-boat voyage in the Antarctic -- Kane led sixteen men in an extraordinary, 980-kilometre escape along the Greenland coast.

Read more »
Ken McGoogan
0 Comments
Voyagers beat north along the American Route to the Pole

Voyagers beat north along the American Route to the Pole




DAY NINE: Grise Fjord
Sept. 13
A larger-than-life monument at Grise Fjord, carved out of stone, depicts two Inuit: an adult female and a child. These figures face towards Resolute Bay, where a companion statue of a male Inuk gazes back at this memorial. Together, the two monuments speak to the separation of families that occurred as a result of a government-driven displacement -- an event whose repercussions have reverberated into the present day.
The statue here on Ellesmere Island, in the most northerly civilian settlement in Canada, was erected in 2010 to begin the healing process necessitated by the forced settlement of this community in the 1950s. Looty Pijamini did the carving. His family was one of those to arrive here in 1953 and 1955. In a move reminiscent of Scotland’s infamous Highland Clearances, the Canadian government evacuated Inuit families from northern Quebec, claiming that here they would flourish. In fact, the government engineered the relocation to assert sovereignty over the region. And here, even more than in Resolute Bay, the newcomers suffered.
At the two-year-old gymnasium, voyagers enjoyed a fashion show. They gathered here after touring the town in groups of twenty-five or thirty. One of the guides, seventeen-year-old Olaf Christianson, capped the usual tour by taking us past two sheds he owns, and showing off bear and muskox skins from animals he had taken. Along the way, and in a short onboard presentation before the landing, we learned that:
Grise Fiord was charted and named by Otto Sverdrup; The population is about 130, and one third of those are young people attending school, where they learn from five teachers; The town has an excellent medical centre, built in 1989. The ship’s arrival coincided with a regular visit by a dentist, and one member of the crew used his services; The original settlement, known as the Old Village, was located nine kilometres away, an exposed point that can be reached only by water. The town moved when the RCMP arrived in the 1960s. 
At 76 degrees 24 minutes north, Grise Fiord is 1544 kilometres from the Noth Pole.

DAY TEN:
Sept. 14

During the afternoon, driving west across Baffin Bay in rough seas, we entered the area in which American explorer Elisha Kent Kane accomplished an extraordinary escape across the polar ice. In 1855, from a latitude above 79 degrees, Kane led sixteen men to safety along the Greenland coast on a 980-kilometre, small-boat journey. The sailing came after the men hauled whaleboats to the mouth of Smith Sound, where they took to the water. This they did six decades before Ernest Shackleton worked his celebrated miracle-escape in the Antarctic.
Kane was seeking the 1845 Franklin expedition, which he and many others believed had got trapped in an Open Polar Sea beyond a great ring of ice at the top of the world. Five years before, sailing as a ship’s doctor on an American expedition encouraged by Lady Franklin, Kane had passed through what he described as “a crowd of noble icebergs.” Prevailing currents usually pushed this so-called “Middle Ice” to the west, opening a channel along the Greenland coast. Whalers would follow this laneway as far north as Melville Bay – essentially a massive indentation -- and then sail to the northwest, crossing Baffin Bay through the relatively ice-free North Water – waters that, in September 2015, we were now traversing.
Occasionally, to save valuable summertime weeks, voyagers tried to thread their way through the Middle Ice. In 1819, Edward Parry had succeeded in this; a few years later, he wasted two months trying. In July 1850, the highly literate Kane described the “vast plane of undulating ice” as creating an unspeakable din of crackling, grinding and splashing: “A great number of bergs, of shapes the most simple and most complicated, of colors blue, white, and earth-stained, were tangled in this floating field.” One evening, while standing on deck, he counted 240 icebergs “of primary magnitude.” Today, with the Little Ice Age having become ancient history, we churned through open seas.
In 1853, sailing now as captain of his own ship, the ingenious Kane passed through the Middle Ice by attaching his small wooden vessel – 26 metres, 144 tons – to an iceberg so huge that it tapped into a deep ocean current and flowed north against the waves prevailing on the surface. He achieved a new “farthest north” above 79 degrees, but spent two terrible winters trapped there.
Finally, in spring of 1855, Kane was forced to abandon the Advance. He and his men spent one month (May 17 to June 16) transporting supplies to Etah, then a permanent home to several extended families. From there, having reached open water, Kane said a fond farewell to his Inuit friends. With sixteen men (he had lost two before setting out, and one had perished along the way), he piled into two tiny boats and began his voyage south.
Eventually, after weeks battling winds, ice floes, and near starvation, he reached Upernavik, the northernmost Danish settlement, where he and his men stayed for a month before leaving on a supply ship. Kane had found no Open Polar Sea, but he did find what came to be called – after Robert Peary and Frederick Cook passed this way -- the American Route to the Pole.

Read more »
Ken McGoogan
0 Comments

The Nervous Breakdown Interview


Our hero turns up at The Nervous Breakdown,
a wonderfully edgy site based in California. Here, besides
the self-interview (punch that link) and the travel yarn below,
you can find excerpts and more links. Hey, you gotta love it!



HISTORY
Following in the Wake of Elisha Kent Kane
by KEN MCGOOGAN
BEECHEY ISLAND
10 March 2010

During our first morning in the High Arctic, a polar bear drove us off Beechey Island. We had been walking along the snow-dusted beach where, in 1850, American explorer Elisha Kent Kane discovered the graves of the first three sailors to die during the tragic 1845 expedition of Sir John Franklin.

Kane, serving as doctor with the First U.S. Grinnell Expedition, had been standing with a couple of British officers on the icy, snow-covered shores of Beechey when a sailor came stumbling over a ridge, hollering: “Graves! Graves! Franklin’s winter quarters!”

Kane led his fellow searchers in scrambling over the ice to the makeshift cemetery where we had previously lingered. “Here, amid the sterile uniformity of snow and slate,” he wrote later, “were the headboards of three graves, made after the old orthodox fashion of gravestones at home [in Philadelphia].”

A few of us had had begun walking along the beach towards the ridge where Franklin’s crew had piled tin cans filled with pebbles, intending to use them as ballast. The polar bear, which had been loitering at water's edge half a mile away, began trotting around a curved bay in our direction.

This one-ton creature, we knew, could outrun a race horse. So we scrambled aboard the Zodiacs, the inflatable craft in which we had landed on the beach. No sooner had we fired up the engines than the bear stopped running. It stood a moment gazing at us, then turned and shambled off over a hill.

History said goodbye to the natural world. But both would be back, and the meeting and mingling of distinct northern dimensions would prove characteristic of our two-week expedition.

This "High Arctic Adventure," mounted jointly by Quark Expeditions of Connecticut and Toronto-based Adventure Canada, attracted eighty-seven passengers – most from North America (New Mexico to Newfoundland) but some from England, France, Switzerland, and Australia. Everyone had travelled to Ottawa, then caught a charter flight to Resolute Bay in Nunavut, where we had hopped into Zodiacs, boarded the Akademic Ioffe and settled into cosy cabins.

The Ioffe is no fancy passenger liner but an expeditionary vessel built and operated by Russians. Still, it offers radically different conditions than those faced by the early explorers. In 1853, when he led the Second U.S. Grinnell Expedition north to search for Franklin and the Open Polar Sea, Elisha Kent Kane sailed in the sail-powered Advance – an eighty-eight-foot brigantine that weighed 144 tons. The diesel-driven Ioffe, by comparison, is 384 feet long and weighs 6,450 tons – almost forty-five times the weight of the little wooden Advance.

One hundred and fifty-five years ago, after waving to a last group of whalers off the coast of southern Greenland, Kane lost contact with the outside world. He got trapped in the multi-year ice and, to survive, had to lead a spectacular escape using sledges and small boats. On the Ioffe, we had satellite telephones and email and could have summoned helicopters or other vessels in the event of emergency.

Where Kane battled scurvy and starvation, we ate three square meals a day in a full-service dining room and enjoyed snacks and single malt scotch in a comfortable lounge. The superbly literate American explorer, who came from a prominent Philadelphia family, entertained his men by declaiming the poetry of Alfred Tennyson.

The Ioffe carried a dozen resource people. These included two Inuit (Eskimos) from South Baffin Island; a Sante Fe-based art historian, Carol Heppenstall, who is a leading interpreter of aboriginal art; a marine biologist, an archaeologist, an ornithologist and a narrative historian (yours truly) who, with Berkeley-based Counterpoint Press, has just published a book called Race to the Polar Sea: The Heroic Adventures of Elisha Kent Kane.

For some passengers, the expedition was mainly about culture. Meeka and Jamesie Mike outlined the rudiments of the Inuktitut language and demonstrated how to hitch a dog team. And on the north coast of Baffin Island, we visited Pond Inlet and Clyde River, where we heard throat-singing, played Inuit games, and hosted a community barbecue. Along the way, we bought Inuit carvings and craft products and the Mikes raised $15,000 for a cultural "core knowledge" initiative.

For a second group of passengers, the expedition was mainly about the Arctic outdoors. At Croker Bay, we cruised along a glacier face and among spectacular icebergs. At seven or eight locations, we spotted polar bears, usually but not always alone, and a couple of those creatures clearly perceived us as seals wrapped in goretex.

While traipsing around Devon Island, we drew within a couple of hundred yards of a herd of muskox – as close as anyone wanted to get. And at a walrus haul-out near Monumental Island, while riding in Zodiacs, we drew so near a herd of one hundred walrus that people were gagging at the smell.

History buffs, too, had their moments. That first morning on Beechey, after fleeing the polar bear, we puttered east along the coast to Cape Riley and put in at the ruins of Northumberland House. Here, in the early 1850s, a British search expedition built a storehouse to serve Franklin, should he ever reappear. The rough structure remains visible, though now it lies in ruins, surrounded by rusty tin cans and barrel staves.

On Day Six of the voyage, we visited Dundas Harbour on Devon Island, the largest uninhabited island in the world. Here, from 1924 to 1933, the Royal Canadian Mounted Police maintained a post comprising a house and three or four outbuildings, all of which remain standing.

At this same site, but seven decades previously, in 1853, an adventurous shaman from Baffin Island met the Franklin-searcher Edward Inglefield, who had sailed north into Smith Sound to 78 degrees 28 minutes. Kane would exceed that latitude by about 12 minutes (14 statute miles).

On the Ioffe, the history-minded were hoping to equal or better Kane’s high-latitude mark – a realistic objective given that the multi-year ice in the Arctic is a far cry from what it was in the mid-nineteenth century.

But on Day Six, at four o'clock in the morning, the captain found himself driving north against storm force winds gusting to fifty knots. The temperature of the sea water had fallen to within one degree of freezing, and the ship had started to ice up. Given time, and because the water ahead lay open, the captain might have put into a sheltered bay, waited out the storm and then pushed on. But at 77 degrees 25 minutes, about eighty-five miles short of Kane’s mark, he turned the Ioffe around and sailed south.

For many on board, major highlights were yet to come. My own favourite moment of the expedition came on Day Nine in the middle of Clyde Inlet, off the north coast of Baffin Island. The expedition's finest Zodiac driver, John "Flipper" Suta, had agreed to convey me to Clyde River because I had to do a series of radio interviews.

Within minutes, in the fog and waves, we had lost sight of the ship. We passed a few icebergs, nothing huge, and Flipper got the Zodiac pounding along at fifteen or twenty miles an hour. Five or six miles from the ship, with the waves and rolling swells reaching a height of eight to ten feet, so that roaring over them felt like riding a roller-coaster, an image came to me unsought.

The scale was smaller, but yes, we were climbing upwards against one of the giant waves that featured in The Perfect Storm. When we crested that magnificent swell and started down the other side, I heard someone laughing a wild-sounding, crazy-man laugh and wondered who it was. I glanced over at Flipper and, in that instant, with a rush of exhilaration, recognized the insane laughter as my own.


Watch a video here.

Ken McGoogan sails as a resource historian with Adventure Canada.
Read more »
Ken McGoogan
0 Comments

Race to the Polar Sea Wins Honourable Mention


My book Race to the Polar Sea, which is now surfacing in paperback from HarperCollins Canada, has won Honourable Mention in the Keith Matthews Award competition sponsored by the Canadian Nautical Research Society. The annual award recognizes the best book on a maritime topic.
The judges described the work, which tells the story of Arctic explorer Elisha Kent Kane, as "engagingly written, impressively researched, and engrossing." The author's discovery of a long-lost journal, they wrote, as well as his "effective interweaving of documentary and published evidence, and his infectious enthusiasm for the subject, combine to resurrect Kane as an important figure in the history of Canada's north."
Sure, they went on a bit, but why not? "Parts biography, adventure tale, and romance, this work makes an important contribution to Arctic and environmental history."
The winning book was At the Far Reaches of Empire by Freeman Tovell, which celebrates a Spanish sea captain, Bodega y Quadra, who explored the Pacific Northwest prior to 1800. The Nautical Research Society doubles as the Canadian national sub-commission of the International Commission for Maritime History.
Read more »
Ken McGoogan
0 Comments

Polar Sea video draws on latest voyage


So here it is, my first YouTube video. It's called Polar Sea, which is short for Race to the Polar Sea, and it draws on my latest Arctic voyage with Adventure Canada. We sailed north towards the Pole in the wake of Elisha Kent Kane, but didn't get as far as he did. We didn't encounter anything like the ice that almost killed him, either. Didn't get to attach our ship to a massive iceberg for towing. Like Kane, however, we did enjoy meeting some fun-loving Inuit. If you've got three minutes and forty seconds, check it out!





Read more »
Ken McGoogan
0 Comments
Before turning mainly to books about arctic exploration and Canadian history, Ken McGoogan worked for two decades as a journalist at major dailies in Toronto, Calgary, and Montreal. He teaches creative nonfiction writing through the University of Toronto and in the MFA program at King’s College in Halifax. Ken served as chair of the Public Lending Right Commission, has written recently for Canada’s History, Canadian Geographic, and Maclean’s, and sails with Adventure Canada as a resource historian. Based in Toronto, he has given talks and presentations across Canada, from Dawson City to Dartmouth, and in places as different as Edinburgh, Melbourne, and Hobart.