Franklin Bay: A major choke point of the passage

I experience the NWP as a succession of relatively short one-day choke points interleaved by stretches of relaxed sailing or weathering at anchor. I believe the second-to-last but most likely the hardest of such choke points now lies ahead, just out of our anchorage. The ice charts show Franklin Bay rather iced-up with 1/10 to 3/10 of ice coverage. The past days and the next days have wind of varying directions and forces, which shifts the ice around. How exactly, nobody can foresee.

The ice charts are released by the Canadian Government daily early afternoon. However, if we await the ice chart for the day, we will have already lost half a day of sunlight - and we want to avoid maneuvering in ice in the dark, in the fog, in the cold. Together with Vanuily we decide to leave the anchorage at s5am and “just try” how it goes - mentally prepared to turn around.

The plan is straightforward: we head out and keep south for a few miles in order to skirt the dense ice concentration of 3/10 expected in the northern section of Franklin Bay before we turn west to cross in 1/10 of ice. We launch a drone to take an overview but fog limits the value of the flight. Nothing surprising to be seen. Once we get going, we head west sooner than originally planned based on what we can see and the radar shows. We steer a combination of general course 270° and the lowest ice density.

Richard takes the first shift of hand-steering and we even set sails, first only genoa, then main and genoa. We keep the genoa furled a couple of turns so that we have a better view underneath the sail from the helm. As we continue west, the ice density increases and after a couple of hours we drop sails and continue on both engines for better navigability. At one point the passage becomes too narrow for the 8.2 meter beam of the catamaran. A gentle push with a bow of the boat should clear the path. I make contact with the ice at about 0.2 knots and the ice floe goes under and sideways. No rudder nor propeller contact. The tuks (ice pushing poles) we bought in Greenland go unused for the entire passage.

It is 3°C and foggy. What little wind there is makes it bite. At one point, the fog condenses and freezes into small icicles hanging off the stainless. Two-hour shifts on the helm and at least two people outside when the ice gets dense. Inside, the heater is running and heats the salon to a cozy 14°C.

During the crossing we steer for the Smoking Hills on the western side of the Franklin Bay. For one it seems to be a good latitude for the crossing and also we’d like to see them. Franklin named them when he found them in 1826. Erosion, recently accelerated by the warmer climate, exposes sulphur-rich lignite, which self-ignites when exposed to oxygen. Quite stunning.

The Smoking Hills also mark the midway point of today’s mission: the bay is crossed, now we need to work our way up the coast through the most dense ice. We stick close to shore where passage is easiest.

Quite surprisingly, we receive an AIS signature of an other sailboat, SV Tika, coming our way. Tika establishes radio contact and we arrange to meet up all three of us for a chat board-to-board. In the low visibility of the fog and the ice-cluttered radar screen a mission that can only succeed using AIS. The meeting turns out to be a fun occasion. Information and little presents are being exchanged. We learn that Tika took a shortcut, the Snowgoose Passage, and we decide to do the same. They also share a photo of their track to aid our navigation. The marine charts of the Snowgoose Passage are off by about 0.5 miles!

About 4 hours later we enter the Snowgoose Passage. This current-swept passage is a maze of silt banks with shallows all over. The depth is quickly down to 2 meters under the keel. The water is completely murky, saturated with silt. We inch forward based on Tikka’s intel and visual best guesses. The forward-looking sonar is a real help here. Nonetheless, we are at low tide and depth continues to reduce to 0.8 meter under the keel. We ground twice on our way through the passage. Nothing serious, all is soft mud. In retrospect I’d much rather have gone the few extra miles around the cape than inched around the shallows and leaving my antifouling in the silt.

As expected, a new ice chart was released in the early afternoon: it shows up to 5/10 of ice in an area that we just crossed! Had we seen that ice chart before our departure, we certainly wouldn’t have left the anchorage!

I am writing these lines on my 0300-0600 shift and the boat is flying at 10 knots SOG towards Tuktoyaktuk. We have left the ice behind for now, the rest of the crew is sleeping and recovering from a long and eventful day. Oh, this trusty boat!Read more