Category: Canada

The night after we finished the Dempster, we camped at Pelly Crossing. The council provide the campsite here, it is very pleasant, spacious and free. In the morning, we discovered a flat rear tyre. Very flat. The small electric pump we had bought in Inuvik was no use for this. I called Canadream to ask where the tools were and they told me not to attempt to change the wheel myself. I explained I was quite capable and willing but no, do not even think about it. What would happen, they said, if something went wrong further down the road as a consequence of me changing the wheel? Mid-afternoon a man arrived. Jacked the car up. Fitted the spare and then left. We could then press on to Whitehorse – nearest place with a tyre shop. In the morning, we arrived at the appointed tyre shop where they discovered that six of the eight wheels nuts were loose. Worse, the holes in the spare wheel were now oval shaped because of the way the wheel had been rattling around. We had only narrowly missed a nasty mishap because the spare wheel was on the verge of coming off. Now, we no longer had a usable spare wheel. Two days later, Canadream had us visiting a scrap yard to collect another wheel and then another tyre shop to fit the spare tyre to it. All this because they would not trust me to use a spanner.

Between punctures and the Dempster, we were running on a tight schedule now. We passed more forest fires. Some of them still burning. Also, areas where there had been fires in previous years. We could see how the forest was starting to grow back.

At 2.6 km², Carcross desert is possibly one of the smallest deserts in the world. It is not really a desert, just a few sand dunes. The sand was formed during the last glacial period as sediment on a lake bottom. When the lake dried up the dunes were left and vegetation locked them into place. The dunes support some rare plants. The government tried to make it a protected area a few years ago but the locals objected because they like to use the dunes for sandboarding (like snowboarding but on sand).

We saw some more bears and managed to photograph one. Usually what happens is that we see a bear, stop the car and the bear vanishes into the forest. This is good bear behaviour. It is better all-round if bears are shy of humans. It is when they lose their nervousness and start getting too close to humans that they can become a problem – and that just leads to them being shot.

The rest of the route back to Vancouver was easy. Easy roads and comfortable campsites. We came through Whistler which is a big ski area. Unfortunately, there was not any time to explore. We found a monster car wash at one campsite. This was a lucky break because we had a lot of mud to remove. Even with both of us working at cleaning, it took most of the morning to get the RV back into a reasonable condition. Then most of the afternoon to clean out the inside and pack our stuff. We were quite pleased with the results and thought that the 10,000 km we had done did not really show. If the vehicle needs a lot of cleaning when you hand it back the company will charge quite a lot for this. The next day we dropped the RV off, picked up our bags and headed into Vancouver.

From Banff we got a shuttle to Calgary where we collected our Recreation Vehicle (RV) for the next few weeks. This came from the Canadream company, who appear to have a virtual monopoly on Canadian RV hire. We dealt with them last year and it all worked out well. So we came back. This time however, the RV we chose was a bit more rugged. Essentially it is a plastic box, the living unit, on the back of a standard 4×4 pickup truck. A Ford F350 with a 6.7l powerstroke diesel engine. The complete unit is a bit cosy but we could take it down a few dirt tracks. Initial leg of the trip, to Watson Lake, is all sealed roads, easy.

The first thing we did was drive to the local supermarket and buy a load of food and wine. Also, some of the stuff we wanted in the RV that is not normally supplied. A sharp knife and cutting board, small food processor, fire-lighters, mosquito coils, extra bedding and so on. Then the vehicle would not start. It uses keyless ignition. I am always a bit suspicious of this. You have to close the door, put your foot on the service brake, select Park, make sure the key hob is close enough (to something), press the button and hope. Nothing happened. It was a bit embarrassing. I imagined that there was some part of the arcane starting spell that I was doing wrong. So, I was sure that when the spotty youth turned up to help us, that he would do something simple while making vaguely condescending remarks and the engine would burst into life. It was gratifying, in an odd way, that he was not spotty, or condescending and he could not start the engine. None of this helped solve the problem but it did make me feel better. Eventually it was decided that our almost brand new 4×4 Ford F360 was broken and would have to go back to Ford.

A replacement vehicle was found. A blue truck that looked almost identical to the original red one. I was however assured, that being blue, it would be slightly faster. An hour later we had moved all our gear into the new RV and set off into the evening traffic. Fortunately, it was not far to the campsite. I had planned that we should not have far to drive and also that we would stay there for a couple of nights. It is at least a day’s work to get all our gear organised in the truck. There is not much space so you need to think about what goes where quite carefully. Getting this bit wrong can easily lead to arguments further down the road. The few things that we don’t need for this part of the trip go in the small case. The one we use as hand luggage on a plane. This fits inside the medium sized case which in turn goes into the big suitcase. I think this is quite clever and it saves a lot of space.

A couple of days later, we were ready to set off properly. There are not many roads in Canada. This is especially true around the Rocky Mountains. Our plan, approximately, was to drive north up the eastern side of the Rockies to Alaska and then back down on the western side. Travel by motorhome is easy in Canada. For many it is by far the best way to travel. Campsites are abundant and, once you are away from the city, booking is rarely needed. Facilities range from full-service (water, sewage, electricity) to, well, nothing really. For $20 on a national park campsite you get a pitch in the woods with a table, firepit and firewood.

On the very first day we set off properly, we saw a bear. Not a glimpse of a bear in the woods but a full-grown black bear just ambling down the road. We had stopped for second breakfast in a layby and he wandered down the far side of the road. Caused a big queue of traffic. A short while later he had his fill of attention, hopped up the bank and vanished into the woods.

One aspect of travelling that I love is the serendipitous way that things can happen. A few days later, a Saturday, we arrived at the Liard River Hot Springs Park. This is a very popular area and the campsite was full. It was the only time in the whole trip that we found a full campsite. They suggested we could camp in the car park across the road and walk over to use the campsite facilities. This did not impress us much so, despite the late hour, we pushed on. In the next half hour we saw our second bear, a whole heard of bison and moose with a calf. Brilliant. We then found a lovely little quiet campsite close to a remarkable waterfall.

Our route followed the Liard River as it wound north and west until we arrived at Watson Lake. This is a small town whose only claim to fame appears to be a strange forest of signs. A bunch of poles that visitors have been nailing stolen road signs to. For us it was significant because here we would leave the main road and strike off on to what we hoped was a slightly more remote and adventurous road.

The Rocky Mountaineer train company operate tourist trains along four routes mostly from Vancouver. This is train travel for its own sake. It is not a good way to get around because it is expensive and does not run to schedule. The passenger trains have to give way to freight trains so on each leg of the journey you can never be quite sure when you will arrive. It is intended to be a train where you can relax and enjoy the scenery while being wined and dined. There are two classes of comfort. In Gold you get an upstairs viewing area where you spend most of your time in your seat watching the world go past and being served drinks. Downstairs is a dining area where lunch and diner are served. The Silver class is more basic and food is served at the seat.

This all sounded quite fun, so at 6am we were sat in the lobby of a Vancouver hotel waiting for a transfer to the station. One thing they did not tell us about this two day trip to Banff was that it would involve some very early mornings. Our luggage was whisked away on a truck while we travelled by bus to the station. Here we were literally given the red carpet treatment as we boarded the train. The train trundled out of Vancouver. Then we were served breakfast and at around 10am the free bar opened.

The first part of the journey, out though the suburbs of Vancouver was only mildly interesting. As the morning rolled on the scenery began to open out and we passed through forests and hills. An early highlight was a black bear trotting through a field by the track. Free drinks all day sounds like a recipe for a wild party but the reality was that drinks were served at your seat and the service was very slow. We did of course thoroughly enjoy having another glass of wine put in front of us every so often. The food was heavily meat/fish orientated. The vegetarian fare felt like an afterthought. Too many times there appears to be an assumption that vegetarians prefer their food completely bland and lacking in texture. There was plenty enough to eat and snacks so we did not go hungry.

A big selling point of this trip is the scenery. The route through the Rocky Mountains is certainly interesting but in a gentle, peaceful way. None of the excitement that you can get with some of the world’s great train journeys. There were a lot of trees. If you don’t like tress then don’t come to Canada. The crew in the car told us stories about the different places we were passing through. This was done in quite an informative and interesting way. Definitely added to the trip. The seats were very good too. Large and comfortable. To Diane’s delight she found that the seats were heated via a little control panel by the arm.

We arrived in Kamloops quite late. By the time we were dropped of at our hotel it was well after 9pm. We had to be up again at 5pm. It is hard work being a tourist sometimes. We skipped dinner and went straight to bed. A nice touch was that our luggage had been delivered to our room We could leave it there for collection in the morning as well.

Next morning I probably did not wake up until halfway through breakfast on the train. That was only just before the bar opened. The countryside was becoming more mountainous. Occasionally we could see snowy peaks. We also saw several freight trains. Seriously long trains of tankers, shipping containers stacked two high or open cars containing loose gravel, sand, cement or sulphur. Apparently the top surface of these is sprayed with some sort of plastic which seals them against the weather and stops the contents simply blowing away. Day two was a lot like day one. Pleasant rather than exciting. A brown bear and two bald eagles later we arrived in Banff. This was the end of the line for us. We got to the Banff Inn quite late again and then set about preparing for the next phase of our Canadian trip

Rocky mountaineer. Thirty two cars long.

We joined a trip to the town of Churchill, organised by Natural Habitat Adventures – a group who claim to be world leaders in conservation travel. Their by-line is “conservation through exploration”. The idea is that they organise trips for small numbers of people to inaccessible locations in a responsible way. Churchill is a small settlement on the western side of the Hudson Bay known as the Polar Bear capital of the world. In October and November each year, hundreds of bears converge on the area. Polar Bears like to eat seals. They hunt seals on the sea ice, so in the summer, when there is no ice, they get hungry. Churchill is pretty much right on the point where the sea ice starts to form each year. Polar Bears are traditionally very solitary creatures. Possibly one of the loneliest mammals on the planet. However, this behaviour is briefly put to one side for the bears of the southern and western Hudson Bay. These bears make up two to three thousand of the world’s total population of maybe 30,000 animals. Exact numbers are difficult to assess. See https://www.arcticwwf.org/wildlife/polar-bear/polar-bear-population/ Back in the 1950’s it was estimated there were only 5,000 bears left worldwide. There has been an enormous rebound since the international agreement of 1973 to seriously limit hunting. Humans have always been their biggest threat. These days, some populations of bears continue to flourish while others suffer from the ubiquitous combined pressures of habit encroachment and climate change. A few years ago, National Geographic published a distressing video of a starving polar bear along with a dialog that pointed squarely at global warming as being responsible for the poor animal’s imminent demise. For a while it looked like polar bears were going to become the poster child of the climate change lobby. Fortunately, sanity ruled. National Geographic were playing fast and loose with the facts for the sake of a story. The bear simply could have been old, ill, or suffering from a degenerative disease. Overall, polar bears are doing fine. You can still hunt bears though. For around £30,000 an Inuit hunter will sell you his allocation and help you find a bear to murder.

In 2021, Churchill had a population of just 870. Tourism is the major source of income. Some whale watching and some aurora spotting but mostly polar bear safaris in October and November. To the west of Churchill is a large conservation area that used to be a rocket launching range. From 1956 to 1984 rockets were fired into the upper atmosphere for research purposes. These days a handful of special trucks are licenced to take tourists out in search of polar bears. The trucks are custom built and quite enormous. They can easily travel across the rough terrain while at the same time keeping visitors safe from wandering polar bears. The bears are wonderful to watch but it is prudent to remember that these are the world’s largest terrestrial carnivore. Half a ton of apex predator. And they are hungry.

Our trip began in Winipeg. Here, at the rather lovely, Fort Gary hotel, we met up with the rest of our group, collected coats and boots, attended an introductory talk, attended an introductory meal and had a tour of Winipeg. Unfortunately, at about this time my small camera developed a fault. It was not focussing correctly. Looked fine through the view finder but the final images were terrible. What makes this worse is that I did not notice until I took the images from the camera several weeks later. My main camera is a Canon EOS 5D MkIV. This is a truly beautiful camera and much better than me at taking photographs. However, it is a bit large, so for smaller jobs I use a Canon Powershot GX1. This is also excellent. Pocket sized with a telephoto lens and a proper view finder – essential in bright snowy conditions. Ideal for a day trip to see the sights of Winnipeg.

We started the day by visiting a field full of bison. Big, shaggy cows that reminded me of Yaks. We were driven into the middle in a rather battered bus and warned not to get out. The North American plains used to support over 30 million of these animals living in balance with the local tribes. Then came the cowboys and someone had the great idea that an effective way to get rid of the North American Indians (pesky locals) would be to exterminate the bison that they depended on. By 1900 the entire bison population was down to about 1,000. Now there are around 200,000 in the whole of North America. On reflection, I can see that Canada has a long history of hunting creatures to extinction but despite that mostly everyone we met still seemed very keen on hunting and fishing. Lessons yet to be learned. As we left the two-acre field our guide remarked “I hope you enjoyed your safari”, which caused me to wonder about how far the meaning of a word like “safari” can be stretched. The rest of the day was a relaxed meander round some parks and monuments. We eventually ended up in a museum where there was even more bison romanticising. Also, a ship which was supposed to illustrate early trade but seemed more like a pantomime pirate vessel to me. Next morning, we flew to Churchill.  

Churchill has the wonderful air of being a frontier town about it. Not quite so extreme as some of the settlements we had encountered in Nunavut, but still a long, long way from the hustle and bustle of a modern city. It was late afternoon by the time we arrived. Our group of sixteen was assigned to a bus with Judy, our group leader, and went for a drive around town. The road from the airport is mostly a dirt track. There is not much to see in Churchill. Houses, a few hotels and restaurants and some basic facilities. Some interesting art, painting on rocks and houses, remains from an event a few years ago. I was struck by the polar bear warning signs. This is not a place to wander around on your own. At the coast is an Inuit inuksuk – a construction of rocks used as a cultural symbol. Made a good place for a group photograph. Also gave me a chance to look out across the Hudson Bay – somewhere I have wanted to visit for a long time. The bay is a massive salt-water inlet, technically part of the Atlantic Ocean. Named after the Englishman, Sir Henry Hudson, another character in the story of the Northwest passage. He spent time mapping the bay but met his end when his crew mutinied in June 1611 and set him adrift in a small boat, possibly not far from Churchill.

The bears come here because the ice starts forming here. Winter is coming. By the end of November there will be sea ice and the bears will be gone. For us, in October, it is still getting chilly. Minus 24°C is the Churchill record low for October. That would have been cold. While we were there the temperature hovered around freezing, even so, there was often snow in the air. In the morning we were introduced to our truck and our truck driver, a big, cheerful bloke and clearly a bit of a character. The trucks, called Polar Rovers, are designed specifically for this job. Apart from being massive, they are also capable off-road and self-contained. Water, food and a toilet are all provided. You get on the truck via a special raised platform and get off, at the end of the day, the same way. The truck has an outside viewing platform, but you are still way above the ground, safe from bears. Did I mention the Polar Rover was big? Seating for about forty so with just sixteen of us there was plenty of space and everyone could have a window seat.

The sun was just coming up as we left the boarding area along with four other vehicles. They like to make an early start here. A Polar Rover is only quite slow but even so, on the rough terrain, you needed to hang on a bit. For an hour or so we lurched and banged our way along following rough tracks marking the passage of many other trucks. Then our driver saw a bear. I was immediately reminded of spotting polar bears from the Hurtigruten ship we had been on earlier. A little white dot in the distance. We waited a while and then moved closer. The driver used his judgment to decide whether we were disturbing the bear. Clearly it would be a bit irresponsible to simply chase the animals around in trucks, so they try and tread lightly. As lightly as possible in a 25-ton truck. To be fair, the bears do not seem too concerned about the rovers. Possibly they have got used to them or maybe they hope there may be some food involved. At times they are quite curious although they are never given any food. Elsewhere in the world you would not be able to do this at all. In Svalbard, for example, it is illegal to hunt, lure, pursue, feed or disturb a polar bear. Around Churchill the polar bear viewing is highly regulated although part of this might be driven by protectionism of the tourist industry. Natural Habitat make a big issue in pointing out that they are one of very few organisations with permits to visit the whole conservation area.

We finally got reasonably close to a bear so, along with several other rovers, we stopped for lunch. This proved to be a pleasant affair. A range of food was produced from cupboards. Hot food in flasks. Cold nibbles. Even some wine. The pattern was established for the next couple of days. Up early. Bounce off across the tundra in the morning light while sipping coffee. Wander around until we found a bear. Spend time on the rear viewing platform trying to get some half decent photographs. Leisurely break for lunch. More bear spotting and then back as dusk was falling. It was interesting and fun, but we thought, after three days that we had done about enough of this.

On the last day in the rovers, there was an unexpected drama. Bears are normally very solitary and only get forced together here while they wait for the ice. Most of the bears are single males. On the last day we saw a mother with her cub. Typically bears have one or two cubs which they look after for two or three years. The male bears have nothing to do with bringing up the cubs, in fact, they are a bit of a danger and have been known to attack and eat cubs. Especially when they are hungry in the late summer before the ice forms. So, we spotted a mother and cub on a small spit of land and a larger male bear making its way towards them. The mum played it cool for a little while and then decided to make her escape. She took her cub to the end of the rocky spit and then clambered into the water. The cub was clearly less competent at swimming and mostly just hung onto her back. They swam round to shore well away from the male. He appeared to lose interest once they took to the water. By the time the mother and cub were shaking themselves dry the big male had laid down and gone back to sleep.

Our last day at Churchill we went on a helicopter ride. Once again, this was very expensive but so worthwhile. We are unlikely to ever visit Churchill again. It is an amazing place and flying is a terrific way to see it. Just three of us in the aircraft along with the pilot, Bob, who explained he had been flying bush helicopters for several decades. He was certainly an excellent pilot and truly knowledgeable. By flying we could range much further out than in the rovers and get a much better sense of just how many polar bears were around. Most of the bears were along the coast so we flew a zig-zag path along the beach. Did we mind doing some sharper turns Bob asked? No we did not so we ended up doing some very exciting manoeuvres. Great fun.

Occasionally bears must be handled. Sometimes they are fitted with tracking collars or simply need to be measured and examined for scientific purposes. Occasionally they may need to go to prison. Bad bears, those behaving in a way which is causing problems for the settlement get locked away. Solitary confinement in an old military building. Later that day we visited the polar bear holding facility. Bears are locked up here until the ice has formed and they can be taken well way. Initially, the bears were fed until it was found that the following year, they came to the facility hoping for more food. To catch a bear, you approach in helicopter and shoot it with a tranquilising dart. The sedated bear can then be handled, netted or whatever. The bears do not like this, and they remember. Bob could point out bears that had experienced this because as the helicopter approached, they promptly sat down so that they could not be shot in the bum again.

A short but fun dog sled ride plus a visit to a souvenir shop rounded out the day. Then came the flight back to Winnipeg and by late evening we were back in Fort Gary hotel enjoying a farewell dinner with the rest of the group. Next day we flew to Calgary and a couple of days later were back in the UK.

In Calgary we traded in our compact RV for a larger model. The smaller one had proved fine, with the possible exception of the shower. It was a bit narrow. l found I could clean one side of myself but then had to step out and turn around to clean the other side. We had a problem with the generator which is why we had called at the Calgary depot. While discussing this, it occurred to us that we could try a different RV for the remainder of our trip. We ended up with a considerably larger model. It had slide-out sections. The whole vehicle could expand when we parked up. Gave us loads of space inside. Much bigger than Baloo ever was although the base vehicle was much smaller. Also, we had a proper oven thus expanding the range of culinary possibilities.

One aspect of Canada that takes a bit of getting used to is that you never pay the advertised price. It does not matter what you are buying, the displayed cost is only ever a starting point. On top of that will come at least one tax, often two and then sometimes a tip. I have a receipt which includes ECOFRAIS, TPS and T.V.P. – no idea what any of these are although they add 15% to the bill before tips. Tipping in Canada is not just encouraged but virtually mandatory. When you are handed a credit card payment machine it will not simply display the amount you will be charged. First you will need to choose the level of tipping – typically 15%, 20% or 25%. In a move that seems strangely unfair to me, the tip is calculated as a percentage after tax. So, you pay a tip on the tax as well. It is also difficult to know when you are going to pay a tip. Supermarkets, no. Liquor store, yes. The shop keeper hands you a bottle of wine and then expects to be tipped for this. It is all a bit baffling and disturbing. Feels like having a little mouse in your pocket that keeps nibbling away at your money.

We spent a night in an exceedingly popular RV camp just outside of Calgary. It was not great. Busy and expensive. Next day we stumbled across an almost deserted campsite a few miles off the road. As we were driving down the track, a grey wolf ran across in front of us. This was much nicer. We spent a couple of nights there. Had a few walks. Saw another wolf and got to find our way around the new, enormous, RV. Eventually, we arrived in Banff. We had definitely arrived in the Rocky Mountains. On the downside, the weather started to be quite wet and we discovered that Banff was just about to close for the season. We had arrived just on the awkward gap between summer and winter. Last time we were in Banff was back in the winter of 2009. It appears to have changed enormously since then. Such is the power of the tourism industry. We had a potter around time. It was not too crowded, but we could sense that it must be heaving at times. Found a lovely vegetarian restaurant and a specialist chocolate shop that was irresistible to Diane. Next day the campsite closed. This RV site on the hills overlooking Banff is truly massive. We are talking a thousand or more pitches. Even so, it closes at the end of the season.

We moved on to the rather scarily named Radium Hot Springs. I have no idea if the waters there really glow in the dark but there was a quiet and pleasant campsite. Next day we drove up to the town of Golden. Another slightly odd name but naturally lends itself to naming local features, Golden Road, Golden Bridge and so on. Here we paid extra for a campsite pitch with a view (Golden view). It was lovely so we stayed two nights. Then we climbed over Rogers Pass and through the Glacier National Park. You need a permit to drive within a national park. Fortunately, we had bought a multi-park pass when we hired the RV. We stopped in a small car park by the side of the road and discovered that we were supposed to have a permit for that. And another, special winter permit if we wanted to park there in the cold. We hoped we could get away with our 30 minute pause while Diane made lunch and I tried to photograph the chipmunks running around the tarmac.

After a very pleasant and relaxed few days crossing the Rockies, we arrived in Vancouver and gave the RV back. This left us a day spare, so we went to look around the downtown area on the rather excellent mass transportation system called SkyTrain. This proved to be a bit of a shock. We had come to expect Canada to be generally clean and pleasant. Downtown Vancouver has a bit of a social problem. Not only were there many derelict and run down areas but also a lot of derelict and run down people. In fact, some of the park areas were festooned with people who appeared to be very much down on their luck and either unconscious or begging for money. We kept our visit fairly short before heading back to our hotel and preparing for the trip to Winnipeg.

After leaving the Fram, we were flown to Montreal. Following six weeks in remote Arctic places, we were back in a big, bustling, modern city. In general, we are not too keen on cities, but Montreal feels clean and friendly, so we did not mind spending a few days exploring. The weather was warm and sunny. We looked at a few buildings, walked in some parks and found a couple of nice places to eat. Eventually it was time to move on.

We got a taxi out to the north of the city, to where we had arranged to collect a small motor home, a recreation vehicle or RV as they are commonly referred to. Diane and I have spent quite a lot of time in motor homes of diverse types. These have ranged from cheap and small to the 22-ton monster that was Baloo. This one was definitely on the smaller side. A converted Ford Transit van. Although quite small, it was well equipped. The back turned into a reasonable bed. There was a small cooking area with a sink, gas hob and microwave. We had a small shower and a toilet, gas heating and even an air conditioning unit in the roof. A generator meant we could even stand a few days wild camping. Underneath there was a very neat combined grey and black water drain valve – something that would have saved an awful lot of time and trouble in Baloo. The hire company claimed that the RV could be used in winter down to -30°C – this was probably true and quite impressive – the Canadians know a thing or two about cold winters.

After a couple of days on a pleasant campsite just outside of Montreal, we set off westwards. It was lovely to be back on the road again. The fine details of what type of RV you are in or how it is equipped really makes little difference to the basic pleasure of moving through the landscape, seeing something new each day and never being quite sure where you are going to end up. For the first week we travelled through forest. East Canada is one immense forest. A vast extent of gently rolling hills and trees. We chanced across a few interesting sights such as Canada’s longest rope bridge, but for the most part, each day was pleasantly quiet roads and endless trees. Not boring but not notably exciting either. Canada is a wonderful place for RVs. Lots of space and well organised campsites. We were travelling close to the end of the season so there was never any need to book ahead. Most campsites come with electric and water hook up plus a little drain that you can connect the waste water outlet to. Usually there was a fire pit. For a few dollars you can buy a sack of logs and then have a campfire to sit around.

Round about this time, my mother died. This was not unexpected. We knew she was seriously ill before we left for Iceland. We had talked. She was content, she had made peace with her God and when I said goodbye at the end of July neither of us expected to meet again. That said, losing your mother is a big thing and for a few weeks we both felt decidedly low. Quietly travelling and sitting around campfires suited us just perfectly.

Passing Winipeg we arrived at the wonderful little town of Eyebrow. The small RV site appeared deserted but not long after we settled in, a local woman turned up in a pickup truck to bring us firewood and welcome us to the Eyebrow RV site. Next day, to my delight, we went through the town of Elbow, just a short way from Eyebrow. Aside from towns named after bodily parts, this part of the trip also marked the transition from forests to plains. Vast plains of wheat. Many things in Canada appear to be vast. Vast and flat. One local, a fruit seller just outside Eyebrow, explained that it was so flat you could watch you dog running away for four days.

On we drove, along dead straight roads, past wheat fields the size of small counties, past grain silos, farms and harvesting machines as big as family homes. We passed several salt lakes and oil pumps, nodding donkeys, pulling oil up from deep underground. Slowly, slowly the totally flat fields gave way to undulations and then, rather suddenly, we dropped off the edge of a plateau and into some deep ravines. After nearly three weeks and over 4,000 km we had reached the edge of the plains. Next stop Calgary and the Rocky Mountains.

The town of Uqsuqtuuq is the only settlement on King William Island. The name means “lots of fat” and refers to the abundance of sea mammals in the nearby waters.

Roald Amundsen named the place Gjoa Haven in 1903 after his ship Gjøa. It was during his expedition to be the first to travel the Northwest Passage. Amundsen arrived here and declared it to be “the finest little harbour in the world”. The vessel was moored for nearly two years while Amundsen and his crew learned from the local Inuit about living off the land and traveling in extreme conditions. It was these skills that stood him in good stead later when tacking the South Pole. They also plotted changes in the Northern Magnetic Pole which, rather surprisingly, moves quite a lot. Today some locals claim descendancy from Amundsen, or his crew.

The mist had come down, the sea was calm and the land, what we could see of it, was flat and featureless. Not ideal for photographs. I could slip a couple of pictures of Saddleworth moor on a foggy day in here and you would not spot the difference. Despite the “lots of fat” name, we saw nothing more than a couple of sea birds.

The settlement was interesting and gave us a bit more insight into life in the high arctic. A little museum hosted a rather excellent bronze bust of Amundsen. Turns out he had a large and prominent nose. In the community centre my attention was caught by some public information signs about travelling on the sea ice. It reminded me of the posters you might see in the Peak District reminding walkers to take a waterproof with them. Of course, this is a far more extreme environment, so the advice made refence to such things as rifles, harpoons, satellite phones and recognising sea ice features. I also spotted a poster concerning the Erebus and Terror. You will recall that these were Franklin’s ships. Both now found in the relatively shallow waters not far from Gjoa Haven. Erebus was discovered in 2014 and Terror in 2016. The cold, arctic ocean has preserved both vessels well and they have given up some of the last pieces of the puzzle of Franklin’s expedition. Both are now preserved as historic sites and strictly off limits.

The cultural demonstration proved to be genuinely entertaining. We knew to expect throat singing and drum dancing. I was somewhat surprised when the event was rounded off by square dancing, something I think I had last experienced in Texas.

The next day we arrived at Cambridge Bay and the end of our trip. We left the Fram for the last time on the RHIBs to spend a few hours looking around. Off to one end of the town is the Canadian High Arctic Research Station. A marvellous looking building with two very interesting hovercraft parked outside. Unfortunately, no one was there. I guess they were all out doing research. Just out from the other side of town are some geodesic domes that looked to enclose radars. These are part of the Distant Early Warning (DEW) line established during the cold war. as protection from incoming soviet bombers. I asked our guide about the radar station, and he asserted that it was so secret that it was best to not mention it at all. Mid-afternoon we flew in a small charter plane to Montreal.

Next day we were heading south. We crossed Viscount Melville Sound and by daybreak passed Prince Leopold Island, an important bird sanctuary, before arriving at the northeast corner of Somerset Island. Here are the remains of another HBC trading post and the opportunity for another landing. Standing by the hut, we tried to imagine what it might have been like back in the day. Two people, a pile of provisions and a stove. Occasionally, local hunters would turn up with furs which were then compressed into 90 lb bales. Once a year a ship would arrive to take the furs and drop off more provisions.

In the evening we pressed on south. This is probably not the route that Franklin took. He went west of Somerset Island. Our route took us past Fort Ross and through the Bellot Strait. Fort Ross was the last ever trading post for HBC. Built in 1937 and operated for 11 years it was eventually abandoned when two successive resupply attempts failed because of the sea ice. The three HBC employees were eventually airlifted out in a daring rescue that involved the first high arctic parachute jump. The Bellot Straight separates Somerset Island from mainland North America. It is a narrow channel and a significant challenge to navigation. Part way through is a large cairn marking Zenith Point, the most northerly point on the American mainland. The channel is 25 km long, narrow and steep sided. Currents can reach 8 kts and there are often small icebergs creating a significant danger to shipping. In the event, our traversal went very smoothly. Sadly, the mist closed in and although we got a glimpse of Zenith point that was about our lot. We finally emerged into open ocean at Franklin Straight. So, you may guess who sailed past here once.

Before we picked up the Franklin trail again, there was one last chance for a trip out in the RHIBs. A couple of polar bears had been spotted in Peel Sound. We took turns in using the RHIBs to get a little closer to them. Not too close obviously. We did not want to scare them or ourselves. That done, the Fram turned south again. Next stop Gjoa Haven.

We were at the start of the Northwest Passage (NWP). For centuries this was a much sort after, almost mythical, route between the Atlantic and the Pacific. Before the Panama Canal, vessels needed to either risk the infamous Cape Horn or sail south of Africa and India to get to the far east. Renowned polar explorer, Roald Amundsen found a route in 1903. It took him three years, two winters in the ice. In 2007 the Norwegian Polar Institute announced that the passage was clear for the first time since records began in 1972. It is generally acknowledged that the declining ice is caused by climate change. Since 2009 the winter pack ice has cleared, albeit for a fleeting time, each year. Now it is possible, for just a few weeks annually, for the right type of ship following the right route to slip through.

The tale of the NWP is many stories of courage, endeavour, and mystery. Prominent amongst these is the well-funded, well-equipped British Royal Navy expedition led by John Franklin. His two ships, the Erebus and Terror, were hailed by whalers in Baffin Bay, July 1845 and then never seen again. We were following part of his route, along Lancaster Sound and the coast of Devon Island. Specifically, we were heading towards Beechey Island, a small piece of land just to the south of Devon Island. Here some of the first clues about Franklin’s expedition were found in 1850. However, hours before we arrived, before breakfast in fact, the ship’s PA system announced another polar bear.

I went out to look. Fully expecting to see a little white bear in the far distance. This was exactly what we saw. But then, just as I was about to go back into the warmth, someone shouted that there was a bear in the water. There were three bears, a mother and her cubs. The shipped slowed right down and we watched as the bears clambered out of the water onto the rocky land. For ten minutes or so they made their way along the difficult and steep coastline. Faced with even steeper cliffs, they eventually gave up on this and hopped back into the water. To our complete delight, they then set off swimming towards the Fram. Maybe they could smell food or maybe they were just curious. Either way they came remarkably close, while the decks resonated with the sound of camera shutters. A few minutes later, Mum appeared to decide that was enough and led her cubs away. Brilliant. A once in lifetime encounter. Well, so I thought.

Five minutes later came another shout. “Bear in the water!”. Again, the ship slowed right down and again we all watched in awe as the bear came right up to us. This time it was a single male. A big one. Clearly, he was well fed and happy. He bobbed around for a while watching us watching him. Then he turned and headed off towards the now distant shore. Incredibly. Two amazing bear encounters and we not even had breakfast yet.

After breakfast, we arrived for a landing at Beechey Island. In all, around thirty expeditions set forth to discover the fate of Franklin and his crew. The whole story was only pieced together in the last decade. Early evidence showed that Erebus and Terror spent their first winter beset in the pack ice off Beechey Island. They were prepared for this, and the ships were built to survive the ice. It would not have been a problem to over-winter there. In later years, the bodies of three of the crew were buried there along with a French Naval officer who died falling overboard on one of the search expeditions. Amundsen too stopped here to pay his respects on his successful 1903 expedition. Since 1975, Beechey Island has been designated a Territorial Historic Site by the government of the Northwest Territories. Beechey Island is a bleak and forbidding place. The land is virtually bare and pock-marked by curious depressions caused by permafrost. We wandered around a little, paid our respects at the graves and spotted some beluga whales off in the far distance. As the day ended, we were safely back on board the Fram and sailed out past Northumberland House. This is the remains of a Hudson Bay Trading Company trading post. There is also a memorial, a cenotaph in the shape of a hexagonal pillar, commemorating Franklin and some of the other brave explorers that died in the quest for the North West Passage.

For a day and a night, we sailed west across Baffin Bay. In the morning we were holding station outside Pond Inlet. Population 1,500. Mostly Inuit. Largest community on Baffin Island in the Nunavut area. Known to the Inuit as Mittimatalik. This is the traditional start of the NW Passage and our entry point to Canada. Border control formalities needed to be observed and an official came aboard to stamp our passports. A couple of other ships were hanging around similarly waiting for clearance. A big old tramp steamer called Kitimeot looked like she had a tough life. By contrast a strangely shaped super-yacht called Shinkai looked to be dedicated to easy living. Hard to work out who owned this remarkably expensive vessel, but our best guess was a Russian oligarch.

Formalities over, we were ferried ashore to be shown around the town in small groups. Wikipedia states: As a tourist destination, Pond Inlet is considered one of Canada’s “Jewels of the North”. It is one of the most picturesque communities with mountain ranges visible in all directions. Far be it for me to contradict this but, my first impressions were that it was a bit of dump. Life here is harsh. It is one of Canada’s most inhospitable climates. Long, dark winters and temperatures averaging −35 °C. Trust me, that is properly cold. Your eyelids freeze together, and the snot turns to ice in your nose. In those conditions tidying the place is possibly a low priority. Today it probably did not help that the cloud was thick and low making visibility poor. We were shown round a few places in town and asked not to visit the supermarket. Provisions were low and they did not want us wandering off with anything. We ended up in the community centre for a cultural presentation. Diane and I have seen a few of these now but this one was better than most. We passed on the fish and caribou soup but enjoyed the drum dancing, the throat singing and the demonstration of winter games. That is, competitive Inuit games, including jumping on one foot to kick a small, suspended stuffed mouse.

Next day, after leaving Pond Inlet, we sailed north back into Baffin Bay, then through Lancaster Sound and up to Devon Island where we saw a polar bear. First bear since we had been in East Greenland several weeks ago. He was far in the distance making his way along the coastline. Even with a long lens he was just a little white blob in the distance but still exciting to see. Later in the day we turned into Dundas Harbour for a possible landing but then another polar bear was spotted. This put paid to the landing. Too dangerous. So instead, we got the RHIBs out and went to look at the glacier snout. Pottering around glaciers and icebergs is always quite good fun. A few brave souls went out in kayaks. I have tried kayaks at various times in my life and never really seen the appeal. Diane reckoned that if she got in one then she would never be able to get out again. Either way, we left the kayaks to others.

Early evening, everyone was back onboard, and we were heading back out to Lancaster Sound when we came across the second bear again. He was closer to the shore now and I could get a slightly better photograph. Sadly, he did not look a very happy bear. Through the summer, the bears typically do not eat. They need to wait until the sea ice comes so that they can hunt seals. This guy really looked like he could do with a couple of seals.