Bellot Blizzards – Part Two 03-09-2025, 74°32N 091°32W
The southeast wind was set to carry us to the south coast of Prince of Wales Island. Rumours of a whale carcass had spread — supposedly attracting polar bears lining up at the buffet. The shallow waters of Conningham Bay sometimes trap unwary animals, making them easy prey for patient polar bears.
I had passed this coast only twice before and never had the time to stop. It is a fascinating place with frequent wildlife encounters. We were smoking along at 10 knots, trying to make up for the sightseeing we had done on King William Island. It soon became painfully clear we would not reach our anchorage before the wind shifted north. Staying close to Tasmania Island gave us some lee, but not enough. The heavy polar air began to strain the canvas.
Before long a sea was running as we shot out of the lee of the islands. Snow started — first light, then soon horizontal, stinging like a bee. We handed down the main with frozen limbs, warming ourselves with thoughts of a snug anchorage… It came, and when we looked up the earth was white. A lone bear was searching for shelter from the blizzard and within minutes was covered — just a small bump of snow. How many more of these bumps were out there? This was no weather to go looking for bears — they would find you before you could count to ten.
By the next morning the wind had moderated and shifted northwest. Still a fresh breeze, but now from the right direction. Our next destination: Fort Ross on the east side of Bellot Strait, named after the young, unfortunate French officer searching for the Franklin expedition. He was the first to traverse the frozen strait in the 1850s. It was not until the 1940s that the first ship passed through.
Bellot himself joined two Arctic expeditions. On his last, he was to resupply one of the ships stuck in the ice while searching for Franklin and his men. A hard blizzard was blowing, and Bellot presumably drove himself and his dog team into a crack in the ice of Melville Strait.
We had set sail in the shelter of Prince of Wales Island, with Peel Sound stretching north before us, and with reefed main and mizzen we made short work of it. We entered Bellot Strait with snow driving us along. Looking back, the entrance had already vanished. Magic!
Two hours later we passed Zenith Point, looking southward across the Americas toward our friends far away. Chile felt like a long way off. With little light left we dropped anchor under sail. Ashore, large footprints in the snow reminded us we were not alone.
The keeper’s house and the Hudson Bay Company storehouse are well preserved in the Arctic air. We opened the storehouse and had a peek inside. Now serving as a refuge hut, it is well stocked. We left our names in the logbook and took our picture in front of the cabin, the sun setting behind Somerset Island.
Dinner time, then a good night’s sleep!
All is well,
Gijs
