We’re in Polar Bear Country Now

We finally reached Utqiagvik, the northern most town of the United States, about 2,000nm since we left Sitka five weeks ago.

The last couple days felt like champagne sailing, we scooted along between 6-9 knots, with a few stretches of just effortless sunny 8-9. We saw our first walrus…at least we think we’re about 90% sure it was a walrus. Unconfirmed without seeing the tusks, but a VERY large and bulbus head and body unlike any other we’ve seen so far.

While we were underway, Shauna made a very sweet blueberry birthday cake with lime cream cheese frosting for me. The unique twist, decorated with red vines!

I couldn’t think of a better way to spend my birthday. I have so much gratitude for all that I have experienced in life so far, for everyone that has been a part of it, and most especially Graeme, Al, and Shauna for making this a birthday I won’t ever forget.

Utqiagvik is notorious for having unpredictable anchorage offerings because the weather can change very quickly and be unprotected depending where you are. But we were there to pick up two new crew members, Rusty and Eli, so we were determined. The wind was decent enough that we found a nice anchorage right in front of town just as the sun was starting to set, and as a very ominous rain cloud came upon us, we wondered if and when the weather gods would change their mind.

After about three hours of sleep, around 4am, winds up to 25knots came upon us and we had to quickly move our anchorage around Point Barrow, the actual most northern point of the United States. A large gravel sandspit stretches east of the point indicated by a very tall large pole, forming a lagoon just northeast of town. Normally, this would be perfect anchoring, keeping us close to town and protected, however, the waters there are too shallow for Dogbark, so we chose a spot outside of the lagoon that was protected enough from the southwesterly winds.

The crew saw their first polar bear chasing birds near the point while yours truly had a massive headache from the previous night celebratory anchoring birthday libations, so I missed the number one animal on my list to see. But after the crew caught up on sleep and the wind calmed down, we decided to make an exploratory excursion to determine where we could be picked up by a taxi and if that was even possible.

Armed with a backpack of bear safety gear and a rifle, Brian, Graeme and I made the first excursion. Landing the dinghy was fairly hassle free and we carefully looked around for bears before continuing down the spit towards the pole.

The beach is made of very loose gravel and sand, every step feels like traversing mud, slow and sticky and weighed down with all of our arctic weather gear. Instead of driftwood, a multitude of whale bones are scattered across the beach. From vertebrae as wide as your arm length, to 15ft jaw bones. It’s like a whale graveyard. Which, in fact, it actually is.

The Iñupiat people, who are native to Utqiagvik, still hunt whale and use the beaches along this lagoon to butcher the whales. The whale bones amass in small piles on the shore like the way we rake our leaves into piles, but these bones are larger than any human.

We later learned that the whale bones are left on the further point away from town partially to keep polar bears out of town as much as possible. What a way to live thinking you had to distract polar bears on a regular basis away from your home.

So walking very quietly and alert to our surroundings, I saw a flock of white birds about a mile or so away along the inland shore of the lagoon. Then – I saw something MUCH larger than the birds start moving in front of them. I paused and said, “I think I see a polar bear. It’s white. It’s big, and it’s moving.” Graeme and Brian stopped as well. Both of them well versed in bear safety, and Graeme calmly said, “Yes. That is a polar bear.” The three of us immediately turned around and started speed walking back to the dinghy, taking turns to look and walk backwards to make sure the bear was not coming towards us. Instead she moved across to the outer shore of the spit and disappeared around the corner walking away from us.

After checking the inner lagoon, we determined the inner lagoon was too choppy to navigate with a full boat and we would try to find a taxi in town that could come out to the northern point. We weren’t able to get close enough to the pole because of the polar bear, but according to google maps there was a road that ended there. One company actually suggested we call search and rescue because they had a truck that could navigate the sand. We confirmed with a taxi company that they could come out to the end of the road, and headed back out in the dinghy.

As we approached the northern point again, this time we saw a funny shape mass of white on the beach (luckily the gravel and sand is so dark, it makes polar bear spotting very easy). We were unsure if it might just be some driftwood, but then we saw it split in two and realized they were two baby cubs (hence determining the large one we saw earlier was a mama bear). Seeing the any baby animal is endearing, and seeing them from the safety of our dinghy allowed me to snap a very blurry phone photo of them before they ran off into the water and around the corner.

So how does one navigate getting onto a beach to meet a taxi but there are two cubs and probably a mama polar bear not too far in between you? You send a sacrificial lamb of course.

We decided to have Brian scope out the beach and see if we found the right spot in the road to meet the taxi. Armed with some bear bangers and bear spray (we left the rifle on the boat because walking around town with a firearm seemed like that might be a hassle), he hopped off the dinghy and we watched him approach the pole and survey the area. We all kept watch to make sure no other bears would approach him from our side. As the sun came out, and Brian stood out in on the ledge by the pole, I couldn’t help but think he looked like a sacrificial lamb. Brian was in good spirits though, he hailed us on the VHF and said, “Hey guys! I’m at the most northern part of the United States!” and waved his arms joyously.

Brian confirmed with the company they were on their way so Graeme and I hopped off the dinghy while Al stayed in the dinghy and on standby. We could see a truck/car coming towards us, but as it got closer, we noticed they took a different road out towards the edge. We started walking towards them, thinking that might be our taxi, but then a pile of people came out of the truck.

Stumbling our way through the unstable gravel, Brian said, “Well that truck is our ride out of here one way or another!” And luckily, they agreed.

A very kind born and raised man named Clifford was leading a tour group. He told us the cab we hailed was likely meeting us at the end of the main road which was still another 3-4 miles away from where we were. He offered to give us a ride into town after he was done with the tour group and we could either wait for him on the beach or ride in the bed of the truck. Since none of us felt like being polar bear food for the day, we enthusiastically agreed to wait patiently in the (safety!) bed of the truck.

We breathed a sigh of relief from being off the beach and for the fact we found a way into town. After some more birdwatching, a trip down to the furthest point of the spit and dropping his tour guests off at their respective hotels, Clifford offered up his other car for us to run our provisioning errands in town and pick up our crew at the airport. All for just the exchange of topping off his gas tank. We did more than just that of course.

One thing I love about traveling, is how you are met with so much kindness in remote parts of the world. It makes me believe in humanity and reminds me how there are still ways of being trusting in a world where everyone is out for themselves.

In exchange for the use of his vehicle, Clifford had us leave our foulies as collateral, which I found so amusing because it’s so true, we were not going to go anywhere without those! So we ran all the errands we needed, picked up Rusty and Eli, and headed back to Clifford’s house for a ride back to the boat.

As we drove back out to the spit, Clifford shared a lot of wonderful information and stories about life in Utqiagvik. That’s how we learned about the whale bone piles on the beach. As a subsistence hunter, who has been learning the ways of the land and animals since he was three, he told us about how he helps take care of elders in the community who cannot hunt for themselves and yes, bears are on the menu regularly.

Had we not run into Clifford on the beach, had he not rescued us from being bear bait, and had he not been so generous, our day would not have gone as smoothly as it did. We are immensely grateful for him and his family. The power and magic of being open and caring human beings goes a long way!

As soon as we got everyone and everything back to the boat, we took up anchor and away we sailed!

Somehow, by some miracle of magic, I’m still on this boat (I was originally supposed to disembark today). Then Graeme, Shauna, and Al decided they would give me the best birthday gift of all: a place on the boat for the NW Passage through to Nova Scotia. Call me a stowaway, a spare part, bear bait, or perhaps it was my homemade granola that won them over, but I just call myself pretty damn lucky. To say I am elated is the most lackluster way of describe it. I was already saying my goodbyes, preparing a dance playlist to leave behind for the crew, and when Shauna asked me if I wanted to stay, they found a spot for me…I can’t even begin to describe the squealing sounds that came out of me. I would have burst into tears, had I not been so excited at the same time hugging Graeme, Al, and Shauna.

“Al – you’re stuck with me FOREVER now!” – I jested.

“No…not forever.” – Al reminded me. How soon he forgets that we’ll be neighbors in Port Townsend once he his home is finished being built!

And now my 2,000nm journey has just been extended to a 5,000+nm journey. If anyone else has had some tough times in their life recently, this is proof that the end of everything, is the beginning of anything. Trust the process.

As I write this, in the last 24 hours since we left Utqiagvik, we’ve encountered our first sea ice in the Beaufort Sea! The water temperature has been fluctuating between 41-46 degrees F. and the wind has been carrying us faster than we anticipated. It feels like this is the REAL start to our adventure and everyone is excited and alive.

Just finished my day watch with Al, which I can only describe as the first two hours as a power yoga class (sailing at 8-9knots dodging sea ice, and the the last hour a restorative yin class (sailing around 6 knots with minimal ice).

The sea ice seem to cluster together in bands and then there are large breaks in between, but watch out the small tiny ice are hard to spot far away, unless you have eagle eyes like Al. I’m grateful for the 24 hour daylight we have, which makes this all much easier to look out for.

So I guess for now, ya’ll are still stuck with me. We’re on our way towards Herschel Island, should be there in the next day or so, and we may or may not stop if the wind keeps up with us and the ice ahead keeps clearing.

Here’s to the adventure and the kindness of strangers, and all that we have to be grateful for to allow us to embark on this journey.