Sailing and the Weather at Pond Inlet, NWT, Canada 1989 by Gail E. Ferris The Arctic and all it's unknowns was as exciting as I could possibly hope to imagine. I had decided to choose a marine paddling area which would compare in tidal magnitude and wind conditions to the Connecticut coast where I have paddled for years. I consulted the NOAA Tide Tables for the East Coast of North America and found that Pond Inlet had a tide range of six feet, which I was accustomed to in my area of Connecticut. With further study of maps I discovered that there was a large marine bird sanctuary located just north of Pond Inlet on Bylot Island. From this information and my kayaking experience, the Pond Inlet area seemed to me to be an area in which I could expect to launch and paddle a kayak with relative ease and encounter reasonable currents. I would probably be able to observe many interesting sea birds as well as sea and land mammals in this area. I excitedly pursued obtaining information about the area. At Mystic Seaport library I photocopied the Pilot Guide of Sailing Directions for the area which provided sailing conditions such as currents and ice-free mooring areas, but most importantly there was a brief description of the weather, month by month, specifying ice conditions, wind velocity and direction. Now my next pressing question was, did the ice really go out as had been reported in the Pilot Guide or not. The guide reported that on rare occasion when there was an unusually cold winter such that during the succeeding summer the ice would not go out. If the ice is to go out, it will leave during the last week of July. In addition the winds begin to blow more frequently and with greater velocity in the later weeks of August. This left me with a time frame for paddling confined to the first three weeks of August. The winds during this time would be not more than fifteen knots coming from the west, according to the wind rose. Although I knew that padding was essentially limited to just these three weeks, I felt that this and other conditions were worth taking the chance on, for having the experience of paddling in the Arctic. Fog was reported as infrequent and the possibility of a thunderstorm was limited to once a year. It was a relief to know that sea fogs were not common as they are on the coast of Newfoundland where I had that disconcerting paddling experience of finding that not only did all visual references become obliterated in a moment but the wind blew with the madness of a fiend as the fog advanced and all visual references became obliterated. Direction could only be maintained by compass, loran or gyro. In this area I was about to visit the magnetic deviation and variation as well as the assortment of anomalies makes compass navigation useless. I corresponded and conversed on the telephone with Bert Dean of the Bureau of Renewable Resources in Pond Inlet, who described the wildlife in the area and where I might find it as well as confirming my boating information. For me, it was most reassuring to learn that the area had ships call at Pond Inlet during August, But what I did not expect was the vast profusion of wildlife in the area. I knew that this was a trip I had to make. I began to think about an alternative to just padding in my Klepper, not only for safety, but most importantly for diversity. I telephoned Dieter Stiller at Klepper in New York inquiring as to how difficult and how much of a risk would it be to sail a Klepper Aerius I. He reassured me that the Klepper sails easily with the unstayed drift sail and should there be a possibility of a capsize, one can just let go the sheets, because the sail is designed to pivot completely around the mast to mitigate excessive wind pressure which could cause a capsize. He also suggested that a novice did not need leeboards, because with just the drift sail one can sail down wind and so some broadside reaching. I purchased the drift sail in March and very carefully taught myself to sail with it when the wind was consistent and below fifteen knots on Long Island Sound wearing my dry suit. I found sailing a kayak after so many years of paddling, just delightful. I liked the versatility of the sail as it could propel the kayak on very little air and that I did not have to sail just down wind, I could sail broadside on a reach as well. This intrigued me. Why just paddle, I wondered recalling the may long days on a trip in Newfoundland, which might have been more interesting and less arduous, had we sailed in addition to paddling. When I arrived at Pond Inlet I learned that little is known about Arctic weather and that this area is about three hundred fifty miles from Resolute, which has an active weather forecasting facility, making Pond Inlet too distant and with such dissimilar physical geography such that the forecast information from Resolute was of little use. The prevailing wind at seventy two degrees north is from the east and the storms, which have lenticular clouds indicating high winds are visible in the west at sunset. When the lenticular clouds, which are cumulus clouds blown flat, are on the western horizon, there will be high wind the next day. It was disconcerting to realize that I had to paddle without any weather forecast information, but there were many other possible unknowns, equally threatening as well. I was told that some fjords should not be crossed if conditions were not calm, but the majority of the paddling would be in reasonable weather conditions. The clarity of the Arctic air allowed for seeing storms approaching from great distances and the witness of storms occurring in other areas. I immediately realized that once I was on the water "you are on your own" in a very real sense. I brought a pocket barometer which gave readings that did not correspond to what I experienced in the temperate latitudes of New England for pattern and range of pressure. When I returned to Pond Inlet, Hermann Steltner, most kindly explained how to read a barometer in this area and why the barometric pressure when read at eight hour intervals was not informative. He instructed me to record the measurements of the barometric pressure three or four times with in a period of thirty minutes and look for change within that period of time. In this area barometric pressure changes not only with high and low pressure systems coming through, but also with the direction from which the wind is coming as to it's having come form an ice field or not. Ice caps, such as of the magnitude of the ice cap in Greenland and even the ice fields just south of Pond Inlet effectively lower the barometric pressure to such an extent that you don't have to feel the wind you just have to read the barometer to know where the wind is coming from in Pond Inlet. Cloud formations could be easily seen because of clarity of the Arctic atmosphere and I could easily recognize the altitude groups of clouds as well as the types, because of the limitations of the altitude range of types of cloud when I referred to the topographic maps for elevation of the land features. It was hard to believe that I was looking at mountains on Bylot Island which were a mile high, until I noticed the definite types of cloud levels among these mountains. In other areas where the topography was lower such as in the three thousand foot range, there was a distinct difference in cloud types which I could easily recognize. The clouds became a handy indicator of relative topographic heights as I progressed from one fjord to another. I frequently saw localized storms occurring in other areas, often on a generally windy day, but when a localized storm became trapped in the fjord I was camping in, there was no consolation in being able to look elsewhere and see that other areas were not receiving the rain from the stratocumulus clouds trapped where I was. When a large storm was coming through, it was grey everywhere and there was little definition to the clouds. The only indicator was a mixture of clouds prior with lenticular shaped cumulus clouds showing if there was to be high winds. When I prepared my Klepper at home for this trip, I attached some tie down loops on the deck so that I could attach my bag which contained my sail rig onto the deck, for easy access from my cockpit when I was on the water. I became accustomed to stepping the mast and raising the sail on the water and then dismantling and stowing the sail rig while I was on the water, as well. The Klepper is a versatile and stable craft, suitable for such activities and more likely it is the limitations of the paddler's skills and judgment which precipitate a capsize. As I was leaving Pond Inlet for my paddle to Milne Inlet, where I was hoping to see the large numbers of game, most especially the Narwhal, which suckle their young there and possibly the Beluga, I noticed that there was only a light wind of about five to ten knots at my back. The waves were only half a foot high and the wind was steady, which made for ideally safe sailing conditions. I knew that this coast would continue in a fairly constant direction to the west with shallow sandy beaches on which it would be easy to disembark, should this be necessary. Not wanting to miss this perfect sailing opportunity, I stepped the mast and set my sail as I left town by water, of all agents. I speculated as to when the people in this area had last seen a vessel under sail. I neglected to contemplate when they might have ever seen a sailing kayak. As I lounged in my cockpit, sailing down wind, time passed by ever so slowly. Then I noticed that I was becoming bored and chilly in the forty degree air on this gray day. I also noticed that I wasn't keeping up with the rest of the paddlers whose group I had at the last minute been able to join. After a half an hour or so, I decided that I had better strike the sail rig and take to the paddle to catch-up with the others and to rewarm myself. Several days passed before I was once again finding suitable down wind conditions for sailing. And once again I set the sail from the cockpit with a wind at my back to gradually find that I was becoming colder and colder, but this time I did make my destination which was a shore a few miles away. For these temperatures, which I had neglected to plan for, I should have kept readily accessible in the cockpit some extra warm clothes to put on, when I had stopped paddling and begun sailing. This area was often just cool enough that I quickly became chilled when sailing in the frequent forty degree temperatures which occurred when the sun was behind the clouds or a high escarpment. Suitable sailing conditions did not occur again until I had returned to Pond Inlet later in August. On a warm bright morning I could not resist pursuing my curiosity about the eastern section of Pond Inlet. Alone I started out paddling, but when I detected a slight wind at my back I decided that once again I should set the sail. I did not have to worry about keeping up with anybody as I was the only one in the party. The almost glassy water was delightful to study in the brilliant sun. Then suddenly there erupted from beneath it's surface a large pod of harbor seal, cavorting hilariously, at a slight distance. They played their endless games, with the greatest exuberance imaginable. They came out of the water, rolling over top of each other, in a grand round of circus frantics. It was hard to imagine that these roly-poly, fat seals could put on such a display. they split into smaller pods and moved from place to place and reformed into a large group erupting from the water in yet another place. And then in an instant, they were gone, just as if they had never been. I sailed on quietly in my kayak, watching the water and the shore pass by. I decided to return to paddling as the wind grew calm and the tide started to turn. It was a lovely paddle on the calm water to Mount Herodier and I landed on the western shore for lunch. Although I had only covered a modest seven miles, I didn't feel like continuing any further because I was somewhat tired of the rigors of paddling and the relentlessly dazzlingly bright sunshine on the water was causing me to feel uncomfortably warm. I hadn't gone as far as I had wished to go, but the vastness of this area seemed more than I could easily cover in a one day paddle. I climbed up the steep bank which was composed predominately of sedimentary metamorphic schist, which I had not seen in the other areas of Pond Inlet which had igneous metamorphic mineral complexes such as gneiss, quartzite and hornblende. I had beached my kayak on the pebble beach below and carried my camera and Cam-Corder up the bank so that I could see a larger panorama of the inlet. Just as I made the top of the bank I turned around just at the moment the cargo ship, which was entering Pond Inlet to call with it's annual cargo, came into view. The ship had left Montreal several weeks earlier laden with two hundred tons of cargo. It was a momentous sight as it passed, it's decks had four large gantry cranes and was piled high with off loading equipment which made the ship completely self-sufficient. Ports in the far north, even in Newfoundland, have no navigational aids and structures in the water because of the ice which would immediately destroy them. Even the lobster pots in Newfoundland just have lengths of polypropylene line as markers, because the ice would freeze onto the buoy and carry the lobster pot away as the ice moved out. I ate my lunch but wished that I had made it through the strait to the other side of Mount Herodier. I saw very few birds, which meant that the birds which I had seen in this area when I arrived three weeks earlier in the first days of August, must have migrated. No longer did I see the schools of Sea Butterflies, Pteropods, which had fed the Northern Fulmars, Fulmarus glacialis nor did I see the Ctenophores, Beroe, either. I began to feel that maybe it was time that I should be moving on, as well. With about a ten knot wind at my back, I set my sail and headed down wind for my final destination, Pond Inlet. As I moved out into the bay I saw the riffle patterns on the water formed by the wind as I felt the wind blow in gusts varying from ten gradually increasing to fifteen knots. I began to feel that my kayak didn't quite feel as stable as I had expected it should under these circumstances. As time went by and the erratic wind seemed to gather more speed, I noticed that I could not ignore the unstable feeling of my kayak. Finally I told myself "You know this is not the Caribbean. You are in the Arctic. Don't be a fool!" Quickly I saw that there was a spit of land to pull in at and I made for it, after I doffed the sail. I discovered that the change in stability of my kayak was due to the weight distribution that I had neglected to equalize, by counter balancing the weight of the deck load of the camera and video equipment with weight in the bottom of the hull. This was the source of the instability of my kayak. I decided to very conservatively stow my equipment below deck and just paddle to Pond Inlet in these gusty winds and following seas. I probably could have continued sailing had I ballasted the kayak, especially if my kayak had been carrying it's usual complete load of camping gear. When I returned to town I disassembled my Klepper and celebrated with my friends the arrival of the cargo ship and the success of our Arctic paddling. As for sailing, it was fun and a nice change from paddling. When I returned to Connecticut, I bought the rest of the sail rig and have enjoyed learning how to use it. Especially fun was discovering the sensations of sailing on a broadside reach with leeboards and pointing upwind with the jib. I created a jib one third the size of the S-4 rig jib and have found it more suitable for the single kayak. I must say, that although a kayak looks very small next to other sail boats, it is plenty of fun to sail. One of my friends, who has much experience sailing small craft, showed me some important principles of sailing, such as heading up into the wind during higher gusts and counter balancing the gusts with body weight. There is available an outrigger system which converts the monohull to a trimaran for the Klepper which has made kayak sailing an even more exciting horizon to explore. Gail E. Ferris, 1 Bowhay Hill, Stony Creek, CT 06405. (203)481-4539