Justine’s Blog

Last night as a minke whale cruised around the May in front of us, Larry said he’d been communicating with his wife about flights home. There’s not many flights from main to Goose bay or from goose bay onwards so we had to make a decision about when we want to fly home. We measured distances, looked at forecasts and made a plan to cover the last 110km over three days, arriving in Nain on 19th and starting the journey home on 21st.

Today on the water had a slightly different feel to it now we’ve got a target and have started to plan the end of a great adventure. We launched into another great calm sea just before 7am. After a 6km crossing in Smokey haze, we paddled alongside the towering granite mountains of the Kiglapait range. They rise steeply from the ocean to almost 1000 metres helping keep us focused on the journey. We had lunch on some gently sloping rock slabs on the sheltered side of a tiny island before heading around the Tikkegaksuak peninsula to Village bay. The wide ankle of the boot shaped promontory was a giant flat topped sand dune, that had partly been taken over by dark green vegetation. It seemed out of place after the steep mountains of the day although it was no less beautiful. We paddled 9km around the isthmus to the other side and landed at another cabin, one that a previous expedition had stayed at. Dark rain clouds gathered above as we pulled ashore on a golden Sandy beach. Rain started to fall as we carried out things up to the cabin. We’re grateful for the roof over our head to cook and eat in the dry and to avoid night watch again. While there are far fewer polar bears as we get further south, there could still be one around so we don’t want to let our guard down. Another minke was blowing peaceful in the bay as Frank did the washing up. 48km today, about 65km to nain over the next two days.

We paddled in a bubble today, about 2km around in all directions. Everything beyond that was hidden by smoke. The sun peeked through as a tiny orange circle, benign to look at. A few times it was overlaid by wispy black smoke giving the impression of craters, like on the moon.

We glided out of Moores island tickle with a swarm of dedicated mosquitos in hot pursuit. The occasional extra loud buzz of a horsefly caused me to be on high alert as all of us wore our drysuits tied around our waists in the hot muggy air. My thin thermal top was no match for their long probing proboscis. The okak island shore is low and guarded by a wide reef of boulders of different shapes and sizes. Sometimes we could weave through the bigger ones. As the tide fell we were forced around a few hundred meters of rocks. The sea was like a mirror, grey water reflecting the grey sky. It was almost hard to see where the ocean ended. Our bright kayaks were in duplicate, lit up by the weak sun.

We detoured a few kilometers to a river as water is getting less easy to find. The hills are lower and there’s almost no snow melting. Crossing to the Tikkigaksuk peninsula we felt the swell again, a gentle roll , just enough to be heard slamming against the rocks. A couple of icebergs gently rocked. A few minke whales emerged from the depths with a blow and a flourish of a fin.

By the end of the day we were tired mentally. Keeping on paddling with limited stimulus or challenge can sometimes be more tiring than battling into conditions. We landed at a small hut, probably the tiniest one yet. We’ll be shoulder to shoulder on out mattresses on the floor. It’s better than bear watch!

We probably have three more paddling days to Nain.

It felt like we paddled into a different landscape today. As we headed south, Jf excitedly shouted “trees” and pointed at a few pockets of stunted conifers in a nearby valley. As we turned into the narrow confines of Moores island tickle, gentle slopes and a flat plateau were covered in lush green grass and bushes. It was quite a transition from the treeless tundra where low shrubs manage to cling onto the rocky tundra, barely a few inches above the ground.

The tickle bisects the Okak islands, barely 1km wide for most of its 17km length. I expected it to feel closed in and dramatic but the low flanks were shrouded in smoke from forest fires near Nain. I could barely make out the far shore. The forecast temperature today was 27 degrees Celsius and it certainly felt hot and muggy. What a contrast from wearing all my clothes and using two hot water bottles a week ago. A light warm wind gave some relief during the morning and after lunch became a persistent headwind that blasted at us the entire way down the channel. There were no Eddie’s to hide in, no choice but to put my head down and grind it out, watching the green hills slide slowly past, pushing on my feet for extra power. Two black bears scurrying along rocky slopes provided some diversion. That’s 10 polar bears and 10 black bears we’ve seen so far.

After 10km we came to the abandoned village of Nutak. A lone large building was boarded up. A neat line of 3 Plaques listed the names of people moved from the village by the Canadian government decades ago, and showed an apology and an acceptance of the apology from the Inuit people.

We carried on into the wind and an increasingly treed shoreline. “There’s white spruce, black spruce and tamarack”, Frank pointed out.

Landing near another cabin in a woody cove near the southern end of the tickle, Frank collected some green tamarack tips for tonight’s tea. We are about 150km from Nain. We’re not in a rush, we have 30 days food and it’s day 23.

“Careful Frank there’s a second bear”. JF sounded urgent. “he’s right by the shore”. The small skinny polar bear just emerged from behind a rock 50 m away from Frank. We were all on the water, watching a much larger male stride along a low brow. The large bear had been lounging on a grassy knoll when we first spotted it. When he saw us he walked away, then reemerged, and strode casually along the shore. “That’s a big healthy male that ate lots of seals over the winter”, frank said. It seemed like the smaller bear was now moving away from the large bear. He didn’t eat so many seals. “That one’s more dangerous”, said JF. Hungry bears are more likely to take a chance on humans.

Frank had moved offshore and we all watched both bears move slowly but deliberately. The small bear was walking away, looking over his shoulder cautiously. The large one changed course and followed slowly behind. “The big bear could eat the small one”, Frank remarked. “But the small one could probably run away because the big one would overheat so they’re both saving their energy.” We watched the two magnificent creatures for a few more minutes, then turned and headed on our way.

It was another warm day and we were paddling in sheltered waters, so I had my dry suit tied around my waist. The mosquitoes took full advantage, while I was taking photos of the Bears. With my drysuit fully on we continued. The dramatic striated ridges on grimington Island soared to our left. Lower hills undulated to the right. Unlike the outer Coast, there were small sandy or gravel beaches everywhere. A minke whale surfaced 30 m in front of me. And another one surfaced three times after lunch. We had our sights on a cabin we’d been told about and had a relatively short day on the water, covering 27 km. The gray building blended in well. It was tiny, but well made. we removed the usual plywood sheets covered in nails from the door and opened it with anticipation. After we evicted three mice, There’s just enough room for the four of us to sleep and store our things. We’ll put our fence around the kayaks and have a full nights sleep. This afternoon I went for a short walk and collected some labrador tea leaves. While in Labrador…