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Above the Arctic Circle

Above the Arctic Circle

eBook Edition by Brian Lawrenson @@@@ Title: Above the Arctic Circle Author: Brian Lawrenson, owns the copyright to the material in this eBook. 2010 Brian Lawrenson Smashwords Photo Edition ISBN: 978-1-921814-41-9 Published: September 2010 Smashwords.com Smashwords Edition, License Notes This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If youre reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Above the Arctic Circle Ive never seen myself as an Artic Adventurer. Antarctic perhaps, but Artic no. Where is the Artic anyway? Is the Polar Region the same as the Arctic? Where is the North Pole? Who discovered the North Pole? If the earth reverses its magnetic fields occasionally, why isnt the North Pole, down under? Who decided that the North Pole is at the top of the world? I knew nothing of the answers to these questions when I started on my quest to become an Arctic Adventurer. However, hanging in my den, there is a plaque that confirms that Jill and Brian Lawrenson having crossed the Artic Circle have been accepted for membership of the exclusive Polar Bear Chapter, Order of Arctic Adventurers. It is given under the hand and seal of the Chief Adventurer, John H Parker, Commissioner of the Northwest Territories, Canada. My wife Jill and my travelling companion for 40 years have visited Canada on a number of occasions between 1988 and 2004. One of these visits was to the community at Resolute Bay. Resolute Bay is a remote Inuit community and communications base located on the south most tip of Cornwallis Island, in north western Canada. It is above the Arctic Circle and it is the most northern airport in the world and the staging post for many expeditions to the North Pole. This is the story of our visit to Resolute Bay and some of the unusual experiences that we experienced there. *** We came across Resolute Bay by accident. Our trip there started, as many adventures do, with a large map of Canada spread out on our dining room table. We had just found out that in six weeks time wed be going to Canada on an Award trip for the computer company, where I worked. Being allowed an extra week or two to travel in Canada, I had found out that the most cost effective way to do this was to use the Air Canada multi-pass coupon system. At that time, there was a special promotion with a six coupon Pass for less than $500. The question that I was researching was: where could we go for our money? The longest leg was Montreal to Resolute Bay.
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When I discussed this with Jill, she asked, How far is that? Now I didnt know but a few more minutes on the Web turned up the answer: Six and a half hours flying time from Montreal. Sitting on an aircraft for six hours didnt appeal to her. What will we see when we get there? I didnt know, but after a few more minutes on the web and I had found the web site for High Arctic International Explorer Services Ltd in Resolute Bay. The name sounded interesting and there was a phone number. Having first worked out the time difference between Australia and Canada, I dialled the number. A rather Indian sounding voice answered and I launched into my hurriedly prepared list of questions: Do you have accommodation? What is there to do when we get there? How cold is it? How much will it cost? and so on. The answers were encouraging. Once Jill realised that Resolute Bay was on the North West passage, which she recalled studying at school, she was in favour and I could now make arrangements for our other travels in Canada. The six weeks passed and we were soon airborne en-route to Chicago. As always we tried to pack as much variety into our travels as time and money allowed, we had decided that this would be the fist stop on our travels. I had read about a boutique hotel in Chicago that warranted our interest. It was called Palmer House. Built in 1925 (and remodelled in 2004), this 25-story, Beaux Arts-style (now Hilton) hotel features a twostory, gilded lobby with a formal staircase, marble-topped tables, velvet seating, and a ceiling mural depicting scenes from Greek mythology. It is located two blocks from the Art Institute in the business and theatre district. Booking in, we could see from the lavish decorations of the foyer that it was going to live up to our expectations. It was dusk and having flown non-stop from Sydney, we badly needed a walk. Wed covered a few blocks when I said to Jill; Have you noticed but there arent many white people around? No white people, she responded. We headed back to the hotel. When we picked up our key at reception, the receptionist response was: You went waking around the neighbourhood at night? Obviously this was not something that Palmer House guests did. After a shower, wed decided that the next priority was a coffee. Whilst enjoying the aroma and taste of freshly ground, real Italian style coffee, we befriended a local who was attending a wedding. When he learned that we were from Sydney, he responded; My Uncle Joseph lives in Sydney, he couldnt come to the wedding but youve got to come and meet the wedding guests. So we did. At times, it seemed like we were part of the family and at least felt that wed been adopted. It was an evening of laughter and fun, made even more special by the friendly wedding guests and the lavish decorations in the Grand Ball Room of Palmer House. The next morning we were up early. We had a long day planned. Breakfast proved to be the meal highlight of the day. Palmer House has the most amazing breakfast room, both in terms of its opulent decorations but also in the variety and quality of the food. Choices were everywhere. There were some fourteen copper topped food-warmers and two chefs on hand to do your eggs, as you like them. We tried everything until we couldnt fit any more in. We had decided upon a detour on our way to Ottawa. We were to fly via Grand Rapids, Michigan, to visit a small town called Ada, nearby. Afterwards we would fly on to Ottawa where we had already made reservations at the Chateau Laurier Hotel. That was the plan. It didnt turn out like that. We found our takeoff from OHare, the main airport of Chicago, a little unsettling. The planes were taking off with a ninety second separation between flights. As our plane turned onto the runway, looking back, I counted sixteen planes waiting in the queue to follow us taking off. It seemed a little close for comfort. However, our fears were unfounded and it wasnt long before we descended through the clouds to land safely at Grand Rapids. Upon arrival, we were paged and informed that there was a high probability that our onwards flight might be cancelled. We were to call at 2.30 pm to find out. Following our Ada visit, we were sitting in a coffee shop having lunch and we got talking to a friendly couple with two lovely children at the next table. We told them of our concerns, and following a phone call, our fears were confirmed: we would have to take a 6.30 pm flight out back to OHare and if we made the connection, wed get into Ottawa by about 10.30 pm. This was not good news. Our friends had an Australian connection
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as they farmed emus and sold emu oils. They suggested, Why dont you come with us, were going through Detroit, theres tons of room in our motor-home? From there, we could get a flight on to Ottawa. This sounded like a better plan and soon we were settled in their large, comfortable and well-equipped motorhome. Richard, driving, and I sat in the lounge type seats up front and Jill and Ann in the easy chairs behind. We had lots in common and talked flat out as we passed through the miles upon miles of prairie wheat fields. A couple of hours later, the signs to Detroit started to appear. They dropped us off at a sizeable interchange with a hotel, shops and a petrol station. We would keep in touch, which we did for quite a few years. The first thing I needed to know was how to use the telephone. This was not as simple as it sounded, as the Detroit south is at the boundary between two different phone systems. I will always have memories of me, with a pile of quarter coins, surrounded by about half a dozen locals whod just spent the afternoon in the pub, all giving me advice on how to make calls to the Wayne County Airport. The news was not good: the last flight to Ottawa has already left. However, if we could get ourselves to Windsor in Canada, we could get a flight from there. My communications assistants now became travel experts. None of us had a map. Various routes and estimates of travel time were suggested. You should head for London, theres a big airport there suggested one expert. Later when we found that a majority of Americans had never been out of America, including going to Canada, we were more careful about taking their travel advice. We called a taxi. It would be there in fifteen minutes. Just time for a beer and I felt that I had to reward the friendly communication experts cum-travel agents for their advice. Now I was out of the quarters and into the green stuff. Jill who had been looking after our luggage and reading a book in the comfort of the lounge whilst all this had been going on, was somewhat taken back when the taxi arrived. Yes, it had a taxi sign on the roof but it seemed to have various appendages that made it look more like a tank, including the camouflage paint job. We werent waiting for another taxi - this was it. Willing hands helped load our luggage in the boot. Sorry trunk. The taxi driver turned out to be a Vietnam veteran. He would get us across Detroit to our destination, the airport in the town of Windsor, in Canada. As we settled into the rear seats, the driver turned to us and through a hole in the (what was at one time) a clear plastic screen, he announced the half inch thick steel plate behind my seat cant be penetrated by a 45. Not having a 45, which I assumed was a type of firearm, this information didnt make my wife any more comfortable. Once he found out that we were from Australia, he became our best friend. Ive met lots of Aussies in Vietnam. They were our mates there, Im going to repay their friendship by giving you a tour of Detroit. From the rare occasions when his hands and the steering wheel actually met, we conclude that he must have been of Italian origin. He went to great lengths to point out all the landmarks along the way, sometimes using both hands to reinforce the point. The fact that the windows were rather grimy didnt help us enjoy the view but as the 20 miles to Detroit sign went by, we decided that the polluted Detroit air was to us the preferable of the two. We wound down the window, something that hadnt been done for a long time, if ever. This just stirred up the dust inside, so we decide that the filtered city view was better after all. The redistributed dust had an odour that we hadnt noticed before. Sort of like rotted carpets with an unhealthy dose of BO thrown in. Perhaps wed have a little fresh air. Fortunately the early evening traffic was light as all the people who didnt want to be murdered or involved in a traffic accident, had gone home. We were on a three lane highway. This gave the driver the opportunity to use all three lanes to show us the various horror sites along the way - some were on the left (when he used the left lane), some were on the right (when he used the right lane), if you get the picture. As we neared what was obviously the downtown area, wed already covered the Top Ten of the eight attractions that Detroit had on offer, our driver asked, Do you want to know how bad life in Detroit is? No, we didnt, but he was going to tell us anyway. After passing the scene of about the fifth murder and eighth motor accident fatality, we now beginning to wonder if the law of probability would catch up with us and wed become the next victims.
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We tried to focus our divers attention on the need to arrive in Windsor. Eventually he admitted I dont quite know where it is I havent been there before but there is an underground crossing into Canada. This was helpful. Do you have a map? I asked, hopefully. Used to have one but some bastard stole it from me, was his reply. Soon afterwards, by following road signs and more by accident than design, we arrived at the customs checkpoint on the US/Canadian border. He showed his driving licence, we showed our passports. How do we find the airport at Windsor?, I asked. Follow the signs, we were told. We would look out for the signs. He would drive. As we drove along, he said Hey, look at that, isnt that neat? Wow, look theres no graffiti! Oh, this is such a beautiful place. Finally as a summary of all that had gone before, he concluded, Oh, this is like heaven, Detroit is like hell. We kept our focus on the signs. It was now after nine and we didnt know the exact time of our flight, so it was a great relief when we drove through the gates of the Airport. We had arrived safely, after all. We gingerly extracted our fingernails from their embedded position in the door arm rests and Jill reappeared out of what at one time had been velour upholstery, where shed been taking refuge. We gave our bags a couple of good smacks there wasnt much sense in taking the dust on to Ottawa, anyway. Our, still friendly, taxi driver had never had a fare that big and after adding a five dollar tip, I didnt have much money left in my wallet, anyway. We thanked him and hoped that he made it back to the USA. We were famished. The snack bar was closed but the flight was at 9.45 pm. The lady behind the reservations desk said: Yes, there is availability and yes, you can pay by credit card. Jill found some nuts in her bag. Things were looking up. The flight was short and uneventful which was good because wed used up our adrenaline supply for the day. It was two bedraggled and exhausted travellers that booked themselves into the beautiful Chateau Laurier hotel. The Chateau Laurier is an impressive classic luxury hotel that was opened in 1912. It was designed by Charles Melville Hays of the Grand Trunk Railway Company, later Canadian National Railways, a rival of the Canadian Pacific Railway Company that built the other Chateaus. These companies had plans to build grand hotels along the train route across Canada. This was in the age of steam rail travel in the early 1900s. Ironically, Hays died on the Titanic just before the hotel was opened. The hotel is named after a Prime Minister of Canada, Wilfred Laurier. It was built in the same French Renaissance style as Quebecs Chateau Frontenac and it certainly adds a sense of elegance to downtown Ottawa with its castle-like grandeur. The hotel has a multitude of spacious corridors, public lounges and lobbies. This allowed guests to wander about creating the illusion that they are house guests of some wealthy family. One of the best things about staying at this grand hotel is its location. On one side of it, there is the majestic looking Parliament Buildings and on the other side, in the heart of the city, next to the Rideau Canal, a natural system of lakes and rivers made navigable by locks, dams and canal cuts. Today it is a popular site of leisure activities such as walking, boating and skating in winter. The following morning we ate a leisurely breakfast served in the Zo dining room, which is the more casual of the Chateau Laurier's two restaurants. We had a great view as the room has large windows that look out at all the activities downtown. After breakfast, we were off to view the Trooping of the Colours, a display held in front of the Parliament building. The guardsmen were splendid in their red tunics and bearskin hats, however Ive always wondered how they could see where they were going probably they just follow the person in front of them. Afterwards we visited to a number of Ottawas downtown tourist attractions. But, after the adventures of the previous day, we didnt have the energy so we retreated to the comfort and elegance of the Chateau Laurier Hotel. Later in our travels, we were to visit or stay at a number of other Chateau hotels.

Late that afternoon, after a comfortable train trip, we booked into the Queen Elizabeth Hotel in Montreal. The six days of the conference was loads of fun and a fair reward for twelve months of hard work. The first evening was a fabulous Getting to know you party. The 2,000 delegates mixed with musicians, clowns,
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performers and cartoonists. Food stalls, each representing a province of Canada, served delicious fare. Beer, wine and spirits flowed freely. We still have the caricatures sketched that night, hanging on our bedroom wall. The Awards Ceremony went off smoothly and on our last evening all the men dressed up in cream dinner jackets and the ladies in elegant formal gowns for a Farewell Ball. It was a grand occasion and we and our partners looked the part. We had enjoyed Canadian hospitality and had included spending a couple of free evenings exploring the Jazz Clubs down by the Montreal docks. Sadly, the fun had to end and after bidding our work colleagues and newly-met friends, farewell, we set of on the next leg of our Canadian adventure, the train trip to Quebec and two nights at the Chateau Frontenac. Quebec is smaller than Montreal and also has a strong French influence. It has a rich history and many terrific tourist attractions. We visited as many as we could fit in, in two days. Apart from staying at the Frontenac, which was like living in Disneyland, a highlight of our stay was the lunch at the little French restaurant, La Vendome, in the lower city part of Quebec. We tried escargot snails. They were delicious. The two days just became a blur of tourist activities and suddenly it was time for our flight to Resolute Bay. We departed Montreal at 21.05. *** As we neared Resolute, as it is called, from our window seats at 31,500 feet, we had a terrific view of the sun rising over a cloud bank that covered the whole Arctic mass below. Soon we were descending through the clouds to a touchdown on the runway at Resolute. Our host, Bezal Jesudason, was there to meet us and to our surprise he told us that hed been born in southern Indian. His mother tongue was Tamil, but he also spoke four other Indian languages, as well as German and English. He also spoke Inuktitut, the local language. He was an engineer and he had come to Canada in 1968 seeking the opportunities that Canada offered. He had met his wife Terry, a Canadian, when they were working at the even more remote community of Grise Fiord on Ellesmere Island. As we signed the register at the High Artic International Explorer Lodge, Terry, said: Oh, youre from Sydney, you must the know Dick and Pip Smith, Now Dick and his wife are well known Australians but so yes we did know of them but no we didnt live near them. Dick had used Resolute as his logistics base for his attempts to be the first person to fly a helicopter to the North Pole. Dick Smith is one of Australia's best known businessmen and adventurers. He's also well known as an aviator - he holds such records as the first trans-Tasman balloon crossing, the first solo helicopter flight around the world and the first helicopter flight to the North Pole. One of the most fascinating stories about Dick is when he towed an iceberg into Sydney Harbour. He was interviewed by Richard Fidler on Australians ABC Television. His explanation of motives was as follows; "I wanted the publicity for Dick Smith Electronics and someone had worked out you could tow an iceberg to the Middle East to provide water for Saudi Arabia, so I came up with the idea that I was going to tow an iceberg into Sydney Harbour, cut it up into icecubes and call them 'Dicksicles' and sell then for 10 cents each. "This was just a joke, but the media actually fell for it. The various journalists kept ringing me and saying, 'When is it happening?'... The ABC rang and they said that they were chartering a plane to get a scoop on the iceberg. "On the day before April Fool's Day we towed a big barge outside Sydney Heads and that night we draped a big sheet over it and we put fire fighting foam and shaving cream... We towed it through Sydney Heads. Id given my staff a list of the radio stations, newspapers and TV stations and I said, 'You have to get up at 5am and call them start saying, what's that coming in through the Heads, it looks like an iceberg!' They fell for it. In the end it was on every radio station that Dick Smith's iceberg was coming in... people drove an hour to look at the iceberg. As it came past the Opera House, Dick received a call from the Navy who offered a moorings for the iceberg! It had been the perfect Aprils Fool joke and Dick and his company did very well out of it. But more about Dick Smiths Arctic flying experiences. Flying a helicopter to the North Pole is not exactly as straight forward as it seems. Firstly, there is no pole at the geographic north pole. If you need one, you have to take your own. The pole is situated on a number of ice-flows. These can drift up to four miles a day. The
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Magnetic North Pole is a moving target too. It is closer to Resolute, about 300 miles but it moves around too. It moves in an arc of approximately 90 miles. There are lots of other physical difficulties about flying in the artic, one of which is a lack of a horizon on most days. Dick left Resolute on 24th July 1987 and arrived at the North Pole on 5th August. His route was eighty nautical miles to Alert for refuelling. At Alert there is a signpost erected on the spot were Robert E Perry, who is believed to be the first person to reach the North Pole, started his journey in 1909. Dicks route took him over Hunt Island and then eight hundred and sixty miles to the Pole. Yes, the North Pole was made for adventurers like Dick Smith, or perhaps it should be the other way round. When we arrived at Resolute, we knew very little about the Artic. Now we were learning fast. There is a season for adventurers who want to be the first to arrive at the North Pole. The season starts in late February and ends when the ice melts in May. Earlier in the year that we were there, a French Micro-lite Expedition had succeeded in reaching the Pole on May, 4th. When we were there, there was a group attempting to be the first to windsurf to the Pole. They failed. The North Pole is one of the most unusual places on the Earth. The sun is always overhead from Spring to Fall regardless of the hour of the day or night. The sun only rises once each year and sets once a year at the Pole. All lines of longitude meet at this point. You can walk around the world in only a few steps. I was wondering as to whether you would revisit yesterday as you pass through all the time zones of the world after walking in a clockwise direction. I never did find out. Every direction you face is South and all winds blow South. It gets cold at the North Pole. Typically -20C to -60C but this can be increased by 50% by the wind chill factor. We were to find out that Resolute is located on the south coast of Cornwallis Island in the Queen Elizabeth Islands. It was named after the H.M.S. Resolute, one of the ships in the ill-fated Franklin search expedition of 1845. Cornwallis Island was one of the last known places circled by Franklin before his expedition sailed southward and disappeared forever. The Inuit name for Resolute is Qausuittuq which means Seagull nesting place. Later, we were told it meant place with no dawn, so you can take your pick.

We found out that there are lots of things to do at Resolute. It offers unique arctic adventures. At the right time of the year, you can try a five-day husky-sledge ride with igloo camping journey over the frozen ice to the community of Grise Fiord. If the history intrigues you, try snowmobiling expeditions onto the frozen sea ice of the famous Northwest Passage. Dog team trips and polar ice cap tours are also available. Resolute is also an excellent location for marine wildlife watching. Pods of beluga and narwhal can be seen from Resolute's beach as they head to their summer feeding grounds. Ellesmere National Park Reserve and Polar Bear Pass National Wildlife Area are both easily accessed by air from Resolute Bay. Local Intuits still hunt for seal, caribou and fish whilst professional hunters hunt polar bears. A quota system ensures that the polar bears arent hunted out. Whilst we were there, the untarred roads were snow free but we were told this only lasted for about four weeks a year, after which the ski-dos or snowmobiles are the main form of transport. Dog teams are still used but now they are kept by a few families rather than in earlier time each family had a team. The dogs live outdoors and seem to be tied up most of the time. We found them a little fierce and not the clean and friendly husky that wed see in the promotion photographs. We kept our distance. Terry ran the accommodation side of the business and the Lodge was more of a home away from home than a hotel. We were amazed at the interesting people staying at the Lodge. There was group of keen Canadian fishermen who just flew in from some remote location, where theyd been fishing for Artic Char. Three nights in sub-zero temperatures sleeping in tents on a rocky shore obviously was a small price to pay for the experience. The fish were an impressive size and Terry cooked one for dinner that night. They couldnt have been any fresher.
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Then there was a quite amazing lady well in to her nineties who had been a American nuclear physicist. She told us that she was in Whos who in America. Her new husband of two years was more typical of his age group, was wondering just where all that energy came from. One time, we were taken somewhere across town by four wheeled quad bike. Jill and I rode behind the driver. Not her, she wanted to drive. Lets hope that weve got that much energy when we get to her age. Another interesting guest was Shinji Kazama, a Japanese traveller, who was the first person to ride a motor bike to the North Pole. A 200cc Yamaha. He had achieved this feat on April, 21, 1987. In 1992, he also made it to the South Pole. He was staying at the Lodge with his family. We have this wonderful photo of him cuddling his son. He had rather long shaggy hair and he looks very much like a black haired bear. He was researching locations for further motor bike travels in the Arctic and Greenland. He certainly was an interesting character and perhaps only our lack of a common language, prevented us learning more about each other. After diner that evening, we sat around the comfortable lounge and I skimmed through the extensive library of books about the North Pole. The more I read, the greater became my appreciation of the efforts of the early explorers to be the first to do anything related to the North Pole. Although Robert E Perry, an arctic traveller and Navy civil engineer, is regarded as having been the first person to reach the North Pole, but an American medical doctor, Frederick A Cook, claims to have reached the Pole with two Eskimo companions on 21st April 1908. A break-up of the ice had forced him and his companions to over-winter in the ice-flows living off fish and meagre rations, before they returned to civilisation to announce their achievement. Robert Peary arrived at the North Pole with five travel companions on 6-7th 1909 and labelled Cook a fake. Cook had sold his story to the New York Herald and Perry account appeared in the then-struggling New York Times. Very soon the two became involved in a dispute that still goes on today. Perry won the battle and his supporters helped him be promoted to become a Navy Admiral and retired on a pension. Cook outlived Perry but spent six years in Leavenworth for what many believe was a trumped up charge of mail-fraud and was not able to follow up his claims. A book Return from the Pole by historian Frederick J Pohl did much to balance the ledger but the National Geographic Society remained unconvinced, so Perrys is still regarded as being the first person to discover the North Pole. However, there had been earlier attempts to reach the North Pole. The first of these was by a Swedish engineer, Salomon A Andree. His plan was to fly in a hydrogen-filled balloon to the North Pole. He and two companions departed from Danes Island (near Spitsbergen) on July 11th, 1897 but he disappeared somewhere over the ice-pack. His remains and diaries were found in 1930 on a remote White Island. The leader of the first party to reach the South Pole in 1911, Roald Amundsen, was one of the next explorers to try his hand using a series of flights to try to reach the North Pole. Some came close but it wasnt until in 1926, a US Navy Lieutenant Commander, Richard Byrd and pilot Floyd Bennett left from Kings Bay in a triple motor Fokker aircraft. After 15 and a half hours they returned claiming that it was too rough to land at the North Pole and had returned to Spitsbergen. Within a year, both men were awarded the US Congressional Medal of Honor. Soon afterwards controversy dogged their claim as a number of aviators claimed that their flight was physically impossible. More recent investigations reveal that the pilots may have made a number of navigation errors. Such then was the primitive nature of Polar navigation. A few days after Byrd and Bennett returned, Amundsen and Lincoln Ellsworth boarded the Italian-made dirigible, Norge, left Spitsbergen heading for the Pole. On May 12 (or 13 depending upon which side of the international date line you are on) they flew the dirigible over the Pole. Amundsen claimed to be the first person the visit both the North and South Pole. A little known Australian explorer, George Wilkins and Alaskan bush pilot, Carl Eilson became the first pilots to claim to have flown a power aircraft over the North Pole. Both men became instant celebrities. Shortly after this a series of tragedies occurred that killed a number of leading explorers including Amundsen. In the late 1930s, the Russians now entered the field with a series of amazing long distance flights - one was 62 and
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a half hours, some 5,500 miles (8,851 kilometers). In 1948, the Russians landed three aircraft at exactly 90 degrees N Latitude. This was the first time an aircraft had actually touched down at the Pole. In 1965, the Rockwell Polar Flight competition resulted in the first person flying over both the North and South Poles in a single flight. This was the start of an era which unique flights, re-enactment flights and others like Dick Smiths to be the first to fly a helicopter to the North Pole, became the challenge. All these stories make fascinating reading.

On the second day of our visit, it turned out to be the day the boat came in. One day each year, Resolute, has a visit by a supply ship. Every other need is flown in. But if you want a new car, ski-do, refrigerator (well their should be less demand for these really), building materials, fuel, bulk supplies then you order them in advance and they get delivered ex Montreal on a supply ship. The boat was due in mid-morning. A Canadian Navy ice-breaker patrolled the entrance to the Bay. This year, it wouldnt be needed. We were up early to visit a number of Thule historic locations. The Thule culture started about 1000 years ago and the people drifted eastwards from Alaska to Canada. We visited a number of preserved sites and it was interesting to learn how they had survived in this remote and desolate part of the world. On the way back we stopped at the site of a crashed F27 airliner. It was only lightly damaged and the twelve passengers and two crew had walked away from the crash unhurt. But the structural damage made it too difficult to repair and the wreck was abandoned to the elements. But the freezing temperature and the aluminium construction have weathered rather well. In fact, the blasts of freezing Polar air, sleets and snow have polished the aluminium to a radiant reflective coat and it looks strange just standing there looking ready to take off. This aircraft has often appeared in photographs as a icon of the remote Resolute Bay. Bezal wanted us back early to watch the arrival of the supply ship. The ice-breaker wouldnt be used this year as the ice had broken up in the Bay and only a small number of icebergs remained dotting the shoreline. Outside the temperature was a few degrees above freezing. Fortunately the wind and seas were calm. We asked, Where does the ship tie up? as we could see no sign of a jetty. An hour later our questions were answered. A quite large red hulled cargo ship with towering derricks steamed into view. It dropped front and rear anchors and soon four long cables were passed ashore and each of these were attached to a large caterpillar tractor which manoeuvred until the cable was taunt. A flat barge was produced from somewhere. This providing a stable landing platform with a ramps to the shore. The ship used its derricks to off-load the items onto the platform. Soon piles of goods were assembled on a landing area ashore. People where everywhere, the officials, perhaps customs people, were busy with the paperwork. It was a festive occasion with lots of the local population on the shore and landing dock. As new items like cars and ski-dos were landed these was a spirited discussion about the merits, colours and usefulness of the items. Then they were taken home by their proud new owners. This process continued until quite late in the afternoon. That afternoon, we met an Australian nurse who worked at the islands hospital and were invited to a party that night after the supply ship had departed. It must have been around eleven oclock but the sun still hadnt set, wed lost our sense of time. We enjoyed meeting many of the locals and learning from them what they had received off the ship. Just about every family received something. The list was extensive and included many household items like televisions, furniture, clothing and the like. Although there is a local store, The Hudson Bay Trading Store, many of the items had been ordered from mail catalogues. The community is relatively small, with less than three hundred people living there. These included the local Inuit population, the staff of the weather station, the people who ran the (usually government) service facilities and the people who ran the tourist facilities. In 2006 the Inuit population was recorded as being 229. Everyone was really excited and keen to discuss with their friends and neighbours, details of their most recent acquisitions. The highlight of our third day was a visit to the communications base and the airport area. Located in portable building called The Office, separate from the main airport terminal, is the control centre to a handful of light
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aircraft pilots and flight engineers. They fly small planes to all parts of the Artic often in the most impossible conditions. This band of quite and unassuming men have supplied countless expeditions in their attempts to reach the North Pole. These include expeditions for such people as Robert Swan, the first person to walk to both Poles. And many others. One of the pilots was Karl. He has been flying Twin Otters in the Artic for more than thirty years. When asked about his rescue attempts, he replied: We do it, its our job. When asked how many times he has been to the Pole, he couldnt remember. Sixty or perhaps more times, he said in typical understatement. He didnt understand the attraction of the Pole. He said; Ellesmere Island and places like it are worth visiting. Youll see fox, musk ox and polar bears but at the Pole there is nothing. Not only does Karl and his fellow pilots save lives but he makes dreams come true too. Many people have dreamed about visiting these remote and forbidding places - those few who can afford it, with Karls help, it is a dream come true. In the Office the radio crackles constantly, either on calls or waiting for calls. The base manager and coworkers sit around drinking coffee. There is a lot of sitting around but when the call comes, they fly. The planes outside arent under cover. They are out in the open both winter (although covered) and summer. Alcohol is thrown over the wings to de-ice them, when necessary, we were told. The pilots swap stories and use the large map of the Artic on the wall to make their points. Lots of photographs of their customers, the explorers, adorn the walls too. It hasnt been done yet, so how about being the first person to walk to the Pole with a wheelbarrow someone suggested. OK, if you can supply the wheelbarrow, I joked back. Perhaps they had a surplus of wheelbarrows. We all laughed. Im not certain what has happened to the air operations since our stay at Resolute but the Twin Otters must now be beyond their use by date. Karl and the other more experienced pilots, hopefully they will have handed over to a younger generation. But no doubt the same cycle of polar exploration and adventure travel continues that there will be a role for these brave men. In my mind, these men will always be the unsung heroes of the North Pole.

Upon arrival back at the Lodge, we met a rather interesting Canadian couple, Stan and Kay. They had just returned from kayaking with a group of seven on North Baffin Island and they were kind enough to send us a copy of their photographs. They had seen icebergs every day and had been able to paddle right up to them. The area that they travelled was stark with little vegetation but at times, beautiful. Often the mountain tops were snow covered. On days of high winds, they hiked or climbed the local mountains. They hadnt seen a soul other than their party, since they had been dropped on the Island by light plane until the time that they were picked up. Later that afternoon, we packed up our bags and Bezal took us back to the airport where we caught our six hour flight back to civilization. The High Artic is a special place and before we departed Terry gave us the plaque to acknowledge our visit. Certainly we had increased our knowledge, wed made some new friends and we promised ourselves that one day wed travel by dog sleigh, sleep in an igloo and see some polar bears in the wild.

Our next leg of our journey took us on to Calgary, the home of the famous Calgary stampede. We spent a dizzy forty eight hours visiting Jills brother, Deryk and his wife Marie, who live in Calgary. It was hectic, visiting Deryks favourite fishing spots, friends, exploring down-town and enjoying some excellent restaurants. We then flew on to Castlegar, a small regional airport, to visit my cousin who lives in Trail. The City of Trail is situated on the Columbia River in the West Kootenay region of British Columbia, 9 kilometres north of the Canada-USA border. The City of Trail is situated on the Columbia River in the West Kootenay region of British Columbia, Canada, 9 kilometres north of the Canada-USA border. The City is one of five municipalities and two electoral areas geographically described as the Greater Trail region. Trail is the financial and service centre for the Greater Trail area and the West Kootenay region.
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Trail is the home of Cominco Ltds lead-zinc smelter complex, the largest one of its kind in the world. The next morning we set off to spend three amazing days touring the beautiful Rockies. Our first stop was at the city of Banff. Located in the Banff National Park, it sits along the raging Bow River in the heart of the Canadian Rockies. Following a visit to the tourist office to get maps, we started our exploration with a walk round the Vermillion Lakes. This took us an hour and a half through scented pine and fir forests. There were lots of photo opportunities and we were pleased that wed taken the binoculars as there were lots of birds, even eagles, to be seen. At a distance we saw beaver, muskrat and the mountain sheep and as we talked along the trails we were wondering what else might pop out of the woods. Our walk brought us back to the 110-year-old fairy tale castle - the Banff Springs Hotel. This imposing, dramatic looking hotel sits in the middle of a forest of fir trees surrounded by lakes and a beautiful golf course. It must be a golfers dream location. It has eight first-class restaurants and lounges, indoor and outdoor pools and a fabulous spa. All in a postcard setting within walking distance of downtown Banff. The historic grandeur of the group of hotels (now owned by the Fairmont chain) developed to provide the national railway hotels is unsurpassed in Canada and all, especially the Banff Springs Hotels, are absolutely first-class by worldwide standards. To visit one is to experience a piece of Canadian history. It was time for lunch. We checked out the eating establishments at the Banff Springs Hotel and decided that wed eat at the Bow Valley Grill. Apart from the superb food, the Grill has great views overlooking the Fairholme mountain range. It has a unique fifty foot open kitchen that allowed us to talk to the chefs while our meals were being prepared. It had a relaxing atmosphere and great dcor that celebrated the spirit of the outdoors, with handcrafted mountain animal sculptures and tables constructed by local Alberta artisans, featuring the region's timbers. As we were coming out after lunch, a wedding party was busy with a photo session on the north terrace of the hotel with its stunning views of the forests and mountains behind. A very smart looking Canadian Mountie in the red tunic was in attendance. It was a truly beautiful setting and Jill and I decided that if we ever got married again, that this was where wed like to have the wedding. We were deciding whether we should climb Tunnel Mountain or Sulphur Mountain. Both were nearby. We settled on climbing Tunnel Mountain and then taking the gondola to the summit of Sulphur Mountain. The former was a two and a half kilometer hike to the summit of Tunnel Mountain at 1690 m (5545 ft). The switchbacks up the west side of Tunnel Mountain provided an easy path to the top. As we gained height, the vistas to the west over the town and toward the Vermilion Lakes and Mount Bourgeau became more extensive. At the summit there were sweeping views up and down the Bow Valley. Despite its name, there is no tunnel in Tunnel Mountain. The name originated with the at-times impetuous Major Rogers, who initially laid out a line for the westward-progressing Canadian Pacific Railway that was to run right through the mountain, an obstacle that he proposed be breached by blasting a tunnel. As it transpired, a less expensive route in the valley to the north was found and there was no longer a need to use the dynamite, however the name has remained. As the shadows started to lengthen we were ready for our Gondola ride up Sulphur Mountain. The ride took eight minutes to the top about 2,281 meters (7,486 feet) above sea level. After arriving at the upper terminal, we went outside to enjoy the breathtaking views. The late afternoon light was ideal for photography and we moved to the upper observation deck for the best views. Several scenic hiking trails lead away from the summit complex, but it was getting late and we were hiked out anyway. We had decided upon a cabin stay in Banff rather than one of the more conventional hotels. This too was a uniquely Canadian experience.

The next day we took a detour to the Yoho National Park, British Colombia, to see BCs second highest waterfall, the Takakakkaw Falls. It was spectacular. Later, we had a coffee stop at the caf of the Emerald Lake Lodge, where there was the most jaw dropping views of the Emerald Lake with the fir forests, hill and mountains behind. As I was paying the bill, I asked How much? The waiter replied A million dollars;
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twenty three dollars for the coffee and the rest for the view. It was worth it. Before we headed towards the Lake Louise Hotel to book in, we just had time for another detour, this time to the Valley of the Ten Peaks. The scenic road wound up to Moraine Lake which was ringed by ten peaks each over 3,000 m (10,000 feet). My camera was in over-drive and I was rapidly running out of film. As we walked round the edge of the lake, I remember the Emerald Lake Lodge surrounded by this picture postcard alpine setting. Nearby there were canoes, awaiting customers. Sadly, there is a limit to how much one could pack in to a day; it was check in time. The stunning Fairmont Chateau Lake Louise is perched upon a blue and green glacier lake, nestled amidst the Rocky Mountains. The hotel terrace directly fronts Mount Victoria through a gap in the mountains opposite. Later, as the sun set, the mountain was to change colours through yellow, orange, purple and then blue. Our room didnt have a view of the lake but rather of the pine forests but this was still attractive, and for us, interesting. Before dinner we took another walk along the path by the side of the lake and I took some great photos looking back with the hotel surrounded by forests, framed in the branches of a fir tree. Our last day in the Banff National Park was spent following the Icefield Parkway that runs from Lake Louise to Jasper. We stopped at the Colombian Icefield Centre and took a tour of the Athabasca Glacier in specially designed buses with huge tires. These are now called Snowcoaches. The tour was to be the highlight of the day. We were awed by the size of the glacier and the surrounding peaks that are some of the largest in the Rockies. We had collected a brochure at the Tourist office that told you how to deal with meeting a bear on the trial both black and grizzly bears inhabit the front and backcountry areas of the Canadian Rockies. According to the brochure, in order to minimize encounters with bears that could endanger your life and that of the bear, it suggested that we follow the following guidelines: Make plenty of noise to ensure you will not have a surprise encounter with a bear - whistle, sing, clap your hands or holler every now and again, especially when travelling through thick brush, near streams, on avalanche slopes and through berry patches. Clapping and making noises like the classic pig call (soooouuuEEE) tend to travel farther in windy, noisy (creeks are surprising noisy) environments. Keep your eyes open for any sign of bears - tracks, diggings etc. so the brochure said. We were left wondering if the bears had been given the brochure to read. After our Snowcoach ride, we spent the rest of the day exploring the area around the Jasper National Park. The highlight of this was our visit to Bow Summit and Peyto Lake (40 km from Lake Louise). Bow Summit is the highest point on the parkway, at 2088 meters above sea level. The lake is surrounded by dense fir forests and lower down, by alpine meadows. A short walk from the parking area took us to a viewpoint overlooking the blue and green Peyto Lake. This sight really took my breath away. The water is pale blue with a slight green tint. The lake is surrounded by fir forests backed by steep slopes that gradually become treeless at the elevation increases, to the mountain peaks behind. In the foreground there were the remains of an astonishing display of alpine flowers that were just past their best. We just sat on some rocks and soaked up the scene. It was magnificent - the Canadian Rockies at its very best. And the amazing thing was that the locations were so accessible by car off the major highways. Saying farewell to the Rockies, our final leg took us on to the city of Vancouver. We had booked in at the Westin Bayside Resort near Stanley Park. This hotel had been made famous by the stay of Howard Hughes in the 1970s. Ive always found Howard Hughes an interesting character and Ive read quite a bit about him. He certainly knew what he wanted and how to get it. Born in Texas in 1905 Hughes was at times a pilot, a movie producer, a playboy, an eccentric and one of the wealthiest men in the world. In my mind, one of his greatest endeavours was the building of the Spruce Goose, a flying boat built out of timber. It had been commissioned by the USA government as a troop carrier (750 soldiers or 3 Sherman tanks). It was completed just after the second world war. It flew only once with Howard at the controls. What is amazing about it, is its size it was 66.65 m length (218 feet) with a wingspan of 97.5m (319 feet). When compared with a modern Boeing 747 with a wingspan of 70.4m and an Airbus A380 with a wingspan of 73 m, it shows just how amazing this aircraft was. Today it is part of the Evergreen Aviation Museum. Considering that it flew in 1945,some sixty five years ago, it certainly was ahead of its time. And a credit to the men who built it.
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We just had time to explore Stanley Park, one of our favourite walks in Vancouver, before our flight back to Australia the next day. This oasis of one thousand acres of parkland is very close to the downtown area of Vancouver but somehow far enough to make one feel that you are in the wilderness. Wed chosen to do the nine kilometer (5.5 miles) circuit of the park. As we walked, just off the pathway, we were rather amused at the sight of a large cannon standing inside a metal cage. Apparently the cage was built to stop the Engineers at University of British Colombia whod kept on stealing it for a prank. This is the famous Nine Oclock gun which, we were told, is fired every night at nine oclock. Funny, I cant remember hearing it. Other than the few spots that are especially suited to viewing the surrounding panoramas, we kept up a good pace. Whilst we were at Brockton Point we observed a cruise ship coming in after cruising the Inside Passage. We made a mental note that that is something that we were going to do one day. Well we did, and youll find this story in my book, Cruising the Inner Passage and Alaska. We passed the swimming area of English Bay. It was getting late and the swimmers had departed for the day. We were quite amazed at the cluster of apartments behind English Bay in an area called West End. This is supposed to be the highest density of high rise units in America. Thank you, we prefer Stanley Park. After a coffee stop to keep us energized at Denman Street, it was back to the Westin. Over dinner that night, we reflected upon our two weeks in Canada. We had had a wonderful vacation and decided that we liked Canada. It is such a clean, organised and pleasant place. Yes, we would come back but thats another series of stories. @@The End@@ For more information: Marco Polo Press Sydney, Australia and San Mateo, California, USA www.marcopolopress.com By the same author: Paperback: Following Marco Polos Silk Road Second Edition Published February 2010 Paperback: 344 pages ISBN: 978-1-43924-942-0 Also available as an eBook List of eBooks Straw Hats and Bicycles Travels in Vietnam and Cambodia Cruising the Inside Passage Alaska Above the Arctic Circle The Grand Canyon and Beyond Rockets, mice and men Silk Road eBook Series Journey from Venice Syria and Jordan Adventures China Silk Road Adventures Secrets of the Terracotta Warriors Journey to Lhasa Tibet
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Istanbul and Travels in Turkey Beijing City of Emperors The Golden Road to Samarkand Travelling in Rajasthan by Taxi Travels in North Western Pakistan and Kalashia The I Love Lukla Club South America eBook Series Machu Picchu and the Incas Cruising Cape Horn and Patagonia The Secrets of Easter Island Brazil Beaches and Waterfalls Upcoming Titles Grand Canyon and Beyond Hawaii Aloha New Zealand The Land of the Great White Cloud Cruising New Zealand Cruising South Pacific Beautiful Villages of England Vienna Explored Prague Explored These are products of Marco Polo Press Offices in Sydney, Australia and San Mateo, California, USA A company dedicated to providing books for people who enjoy travelling and reading about travel and history. About the Author Brian Lawrenson was born in Yorkshire, brought up in Port Elizabeth, South Africa. After hitch-hiking round UK and Europe in the 1960s he met and married his New Zealand born wife, Jill, in London and migrated to Australia in 1968. Since then they have travelled to more than 70 countries. Apart from travels in the Australia, including the Red Centre; they have explored New Zealand; visited the Islands of the Pacific; journeyed through the Middle East, across Central Asia and China; criss-crossed Canada and stayed in the remote Resolute Bay; discovered the beauty of over 20 states of the USA; exploring the Inca trails of South America and cruised round Cape Horn; and visited many of the countries of the Far East including Thailand, Vietnam and Cambodia. And lots more. Brian and Jill live in their favourite city, Sydney. Brian Lawrenson is a traveller, writer, speaker and the author of Following Marco Polos Silk Road. He is also runs the small independent publishing house Marco Polo Press. Marco Polo Press is a member of the Independent Book Publisher Association (IBPA). Brian Lawrenson is a member of the Australian Society of Authors and a number of Travel Writers Associations. He has been featured on TV, Radio, in magazines and local newspapers.

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