THE ONE OCEAN BROCHURE STATED THAT “the crossing of Baffin Bay is highly dependent on the extent of the so-called ‘middle ice’”. There was no ice, middle or otherwise. In fact, we would see no more ice at all except for a few glaciers moving towards the sea. This was a sad theme of the entire voyage — an ice free Northwest Passage. (We would learn later that the summer of 2016 had the second lowest amount of ice in recorded history.)
Mom and cub
We spent a day and a night quartering into heavy swells, not enough to send you to the head but enough to keep you in your berth. Eventually we arrived at Pond Inlet, Baffin Island, Canada but didn’t clear customs until after dinner. And the next morning was so foggy that we weren’t able to board the zodiacs until 3 PM. It was worth the wait, our first — and possibly last, we feared — polar bears. A scrawny mother who probably hadn’t had a decent meal in many months and her chubby cub. They were gnawing on the desiccated carcas of a narwhal, left by Inuit hunters. Without ice bears can’t hunt seals, their main food source, but a mother will continue to nurse her cub until she, and the cub, finally die.
