10 On the Beaufort Scale

As I write (2:45 p.m. Atlantic Daylight Time) the MV Fram is nearing the end its 30-hour crossing of the Labrador Sea. It has not be a pleasure cruise: the seas were as high as 30 feet for much of the crossing, the wind just below hurricane strength at gusts of more than 60 mph. Mario, our expedition leader, said the gusts measured 10 on the Beaufort scale, with sustained wind at 9. That's no gentle breeze.

The image above, from windy.com, represents the 1 a.m. today wind speeds and directions in the Labrador Sea between Greenland (on the right) and the Labrador coast. Red and green mean what you think they mean.

The rough crossing of this arm of the North Atlantic began soon after we left the protection of Greenland's fjords Wednesday evening, and didn't let up until daybreak Friday when we reached Labrador's continental shelf.

I had experienced a bit of rough seas on my first Hurtigruten trip in 2010 soon after we left Kirkenes and headed into the Barents Sea. But that was calm compared to the last two days. I managed breakfast and lunch yesterday, but the sight of cream of mussel soup at dinner sent me back to the cabin and the comfort of my berth. (I doubt if more than a third of the passengers made it for dinner at all.) In there my body sensed the movement as a rocking cradle. I slept well.

Our captain reported he had to use all four of his diesel engines to power the vessel through the heavy seas; normally he would only use three to turn the generators on a sea crossing. At times, going up the waves, we were stationery, making progress only on the way down: maybe two or three knots, at best. So the crossing from Greenland to Labrador is taking five or six hours longer than planned, which means no time ashore when we reach Hopewell, Labrador, to clear Canadian customs early this evening.

This experience does give me pause about a future trip to Antarctica through the notorious Drake Passage, even though one of the expedition team members observed he had made 80 passages over the Drake between Tierra del Fuego and the Antarctic cape, and none were as difficult as our Labrador Sea crossing. Small comfort.

Comments

Newport: Memory of Childhood

To most the city of Newport, Rhode Island, is associated with the Gilded Age mansions lining Ocean Avenue and the Cliff Walk. For me it's the Awful Awful. The Awful Awful is a thick milkshake, but instead of being made from ice cream, milk and syrup, most of its dairy content comes from ice milk. It originated at Bond's, a northern New Jersey ice cream chain with an outpost in my home town, Elizabeth. It got it's name because it's "Awful Big, Awful Good". Drink three and get your name inscribed on the wall, plus a fourth for free. Two ice cream chains in New England took notice of the thick shake and bought rights to market it under the Awful Awful name anywhere but in Bond's home territory of the Garden State. But when one of them starting expanding, not being able to enter the New Jersey market was a major impediment, so they changed the name to Fribble. That's what the chain -- Friendly's -- continues to call its shake, though it...

Nous Arrivons en France

The church and houses across the harbor are on L'Ile-aux-Marins. Permanent residents left after the electric cable was cut in 1963 and the government decided not to replace it. Summer homes remain. Today we arrived in France. The isles of St. Pierre et Miquelon, about 20 miles off the south coast of Newfoundland, are French territory, not a French-speaking part of Canada. The currency is the Euro. And the croissants and pastries are delicious. This overseas territory, which sends is own senator and deputy to the National Assembly in Paris, is the last toehold of France on the North America landmass. Although the fishing industry remains present, it has been in steep decline, as in neighboring Newfoundland. Local officials hope tourism, fueled by a brand new airport, will boost the economy, though the dream of offshore hydrocarbons is there, too. The passengers abroad the Fram welcomed the visit for many reasons, but chief among them was docking at a St. P...

A Canadian Thanksgiving

Once ashore in Halifax Monday I sought in vain to replenish my cigar supply, and pick up a Cuban or two to enjoy at sea. But it was Canadian Thanksgiving, and all stores selling decent stogies shut. Still, I wanted to enjoy a relaxing cigar after walking up and down the Spring Garden Road shopping district. I found as bench in the sun in front of the Halifax Memorial Library and lit up. Then I turned around to find Winston Churchill gazing upon me, undoubtedly as upset as when Yousef Karsh took away the PM's cigar to make his iconic photograph. I did my best to imitate the Churchillian scowl. A traveling companion from Glasgow thinks I nailed it. Smithsonian Magazine has an interesting account of the story behind the photo. The downtown shopping district of this city of about 400,000 was filled with people -- most of them tourists off the four cruise ships tied up a 15-minute walk away in the harbor, though some locals were taking advantage of the warm if overcast weath...

Greenland Passage

Search This Blog