Halifax to Reykjavik
The saying goes that “There are strange things done by the midnight sun!” In the winter of 1989, a team of oceanographers left the Bedford Institute of Oceanography (BIO) in Dartmouth, NS. They left seeking knowledge of the ocean. In particular, they wanted to know what happened in the Greenland Sea, the circulation of the various currents, its interaction with the surrounding regions and the water mass transformations that took place within it. I was part of that team.
I will leave the interpretation of the scientific data to the Old Timers . . . the Physical Oceanographers who understand such things. I was the computer technician. And, because of a background in chemistry, I performed some of the analysis done on the water samples collected. The results from all this are well documented by the Ph.D. types in the scientific journals.
Every research cruise has a human-interest aspect, some more than others. The voyage of CSS Baffin 88043 was one that the participants still talk of. We all remember it because of one major event. The weather. Should you think that this could not be so for a 59-day adventure, you are wrong! The cruise was one entire storm. We did manage 8-9 days of continuous work once we got to the research area. However, what we recall most is the storms. One after the other, day after day, night after night.
And so while this web page contains a bit of scientific information, it mostly tells the tale of a dozen or so research staff doing the absolute best we could in weather like none of us had seen before. Before going on, one should clarify the cruise number, 88043. At BIO, the first digits of the cruise signify the year. This cruse took place in 1989, and was the last one of the 1988-89 fiscal year. A minor point, but if not mentioned, someone will ask why.
And so we set forth on 19 January 1989, on board CSS Baffin, leaving Halifax Harbour with the title ‘Baffin 88043.’ We were due to make our way to Reykjavik, Iceland during the next week to ten days, doing some preliminary testing of equipment along the way. It wasn’t more than a day out of port when we were hit by the first storm. Heavy seas and high winds had most of us in our bunks with different measures of seasickness. But we would never admit it! No oceanographer ever does. When asked how do you feel, the answer is always a resounding “Great!” complete with a forced grin from ear to ear. What true blue sailor would answer otherwise? We often found, however, that the first few days out one felt “greater” lying in the bunk. Maybe the motion makes you a bit tired. It’s a topic we never really pursued . . . other than to notice that we all seemed less tired after a few days.
This storm resulted in some minor damage to the ship’s port side. Nothing serious, just a bulkhead caved in a bit from a heavy wave. However, given that this was a major expedition to the arctic the Captain, John Lewis, wisely decided to have the damage fixed in St. John’s, Newfoundland. On the morning 22 January we tied up for repairs. Having spent a whole four days at sea, we were more than ready for shore leave. We had 24 hours to take in the museums and libraries of this historic town . . . and we made the most of it. Absolutely. The fact that most of us had been there a dozen times before did not deter us. Who knows when a new exhibit or collection of rare books would go on display? And who would want to miss it? Not us!
At 10:30 the next morning we set sail for Reykjavik. Within a few hours the weather started again. By now most of us had our sea legs and the real problem was one of hanging on to things and trying to work with the ship pitching and rolling constantly. This can’t last, we all told each other. And while it may seem rough today, tomorrow the seas will go down and this will only be a memory. This is somewhat true, but the seas never did go down and we still remember, almost 15 years later. Now and then the weather would let up enough so that we could get some instrument or other over the side for a few hours, or test a piece of equipment. However, for the most part, we beat our way from St. John’s to Reykjavik hanging on to anything that was bolted down, convinced that once we got north of Iceland, everything would be better. And maybe it would be. The seasoned members of the crew all told us it would. Which one of us would question the opinion of sailors with 25-30 years experience? None of us. Realise that while we all went to sea for a month or two a year, we were not professional sailors.
We hit one severe storm south of Iceland that drove us off course a bit from 27 January until 29 January. You might notice the notch in the track plot (the red trace.) This was where the Captain decided to let the ship run with the wind until the storm passed rather than try to beat our way through it. As it turned out, you will see that this was not the first time he had to make this sort of decision. At 3:00 PM 30 January, we finally tied up at the jetty in Reykjavik.
Last updated on Thursday, 12 April 2007