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Beer!

We made it! Very thrilled to arrive safely in Longyearbyen and be
welcomed on the beach by Liv. Most of the last week has been spent
dreaming of the beer and food we are now consuming. Barentsburg
(Russian mining town) was an eye opener with it's crazy dilapidated
buildings and mining equipment. Luckily these were mitigated by the
hotel that served pizza and vodka.

Here are a few pics - can't write any more now as there is cappuccino
waiting at the nearest cafe. :)

A HUGE thanks to everyone for sending us thoughts and messages of
support throughout the trip! It has been great to know people have
been following our progress. Hope to see you all in real life soon!

Cheers,
Ra and Mim

http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?ie=UTF8&hl=en&msa=0&msid=114746585868269518369.0004347ff701bdddc5d3f&t=h&om=1&ll=79.432371,21.796875&spn=3.38229,29.619141&z=5

WIND

JUST SAT OUT & BATTLED A WEEK OF GALES. 4 DAYS IN TENT. RA NEARLY THRU WAR&PEACE. MET PEOPLE 4 1ST TIME IN A MONTH. HOME STRAIGHT NOW!

ALL ACTION IN STORFJORD

BIG SURF, BELUGA, BOAT BREAKING, BOOM&RUMBLE OF GLACIERS. 3M SWELL+FOG=HARD NAVIGATION. CAMPED IN GALE @ SOUTHCAPE.

THE ICE WARS

SLOW DAYS GETTING AROUND/OVER/THRU ICE. GREAT TIDAL CURRENT INC MOVING ICEBERGS @ HELEYSUNDET. OUT IN STOREFJORD NOW- NO ICE!

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What it all looks like...

I left my camera with Ra and Mim, so it's courtesy of new tourist friend Corinne that I can upload a few shots and show you what it looks like. Of course, the day I jumped on the big boat, the weather dramatically improved...

These glaciers have a front wall around 100m high. As Ra's mum says, you have to stay 300m from a calving glacier, as not only does the ice crash down from above, it also breaks off underwater and rises to the surface, causing waves.


Hanging out with masses of people on shore took awhile to get used to - advantages included cups of tea, provided after we'd taken a gentle stroll. The eyeopener is the orange outfit they make you put on to board the small boats - modelled by the chap on the left.

After a week of excellent creeking in southern Norway, I arrived in the UK to find high water here too. The Thames flooded in July! I must confess that while I do feel anxious for my great aunt, stranded without power or water, mostly I'm excited to be getting out for just one more play session before heading home.

GOD'S TROUSERS IT'S COLD!

GOD'S TROUSERS IT'S COLD! THRU HINLXPET W BLUE SKIES & STUNNING VIEWS. S THEN N WIND.EXITING DAY YEST W LOTS OF ICEFLOWS & HORIZONTAL SNOW. NOW WAITING OUT STORM IN TENT

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Jul 13 80 DEG NORTH

80 DEG NORTH! SAW FIRSTST BEAR TODAYDAY. LOTS OF BLUE SKIES. HINLVPET & ICE? TOMMOROW. WHISKEY &DUCK NOW.

Updated google map with progress can be found here:
http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?ie=UTF8&hl=en&msa=0&msid=114746585868269518369.0004347ff701bdddc5d3f&t=h&om=1&ll=79.432371,21.796875&spn=3.38229,29.619141&z=5

'The truth is that the demands of the world are infinite and your time
is not. Things will always be left undone. Just make sure they're not
the things that matter' - Martha Beck

Seal meat and trappers

Ra and Mim are on good form, they have paddled past Mushumna, met a real live trapper and eaten their first seal meat.

In the past, subsisting on reindeer and seals while trapping foxes and polar bears could be a very lucerative way of spending the winter. These days people who want to spend a season trapping apply to the Governor and a very small number are chosen. It's no longer financially worthwhile, but appeals to people who are awfully keen to get away from it all.

Mushumna is also the last chance for a looong time to charge the batteries on the satellite phone, and to get inside out of the wind. The hut there (like a DOC hut, with small triple glazed windows) houses trappers and is visited by Sysselmannen field officers, scientists and a few very motivated tourists.

The weather is glorious! Off to do a spot of artic sun bathing and recover from the rigours of last nights' drinking session with miners.
Polly

Then there were two...

It seems that my unquenchable yen for artic sea kayaking was doused in the first long crossing, and after 12 days out I called it a day. Factors in the decision included my quite unexpected tendency to turn into a basket case when away from land, the fact we were about to head east and away from regular shipping routes, and Mim and Ra's positive response to the plan of continuing on in a team of two.


The first four days out brought the very best of Svalbard paddling - blue skies, tailwinds and our first major crossing over Isfjorden started with the sea mirror calm. The first few days were always going to be a challenge; the sheer size of the first crossing got to me and I had a tanty on the beach, everyone felt their muscles talking to them, and the pressure of trying to make ks - and yet not thrash ourselves too soon - was a wee balancing act we tottered thru.

Giving ourselves a rest and paddling by the midnight sun conincided with some cold snowy days, when we holed up in the tents and let the world drift away in stories about clouds, Mao and weighty russian classics we'd brought as reading material. We got into a rhythm as a team, and developed new and useful tricks - setting up a good trip wire on a gravel bank (Ra) and having a pee in big swell miles from the coast (me).



The wildlife was a constant delight - puffins diving in front of us or doing ambitious takeoff manoevers and being wiped out in the waves, artic birds of all sorts, seals who inquisitively came up to say hello! and reindeer were a feature of every campsite. Even I was distracted during a crossing when we spotted a small pod of Minke whales travelling north. Looking for a campsite, I was inspecting possible landing options when a rock I thought might be useful shelter from the on-shore swell surged upwards. Miriam yelled polly polly polly polly polly! and I went from brisk forward paddling to urgent backward strokes, as the whiskers and huge tusks of a male walrus came into view. The team in full reverse watched as he made his way out to sea, pausing to give us an appreciation of just how large his shoulders were. Walruses weigh up to 1.5 tonnes, and have a reputation for being generally peaceable - and occaisionally attacking kayaks. I blessed the swedish makers of our white kayaks, walruses get excited by the colour red. Walruses are very short sighted, and the three we encountered all lunged alarmingly towards us when they heard us - which we nervously attributed to their natural curiosity, rather than a vengeful nature.

Making a decision to evacuate - particularly before its all gone to custard - is always a difficult process, and I felt very torn about it as I stomped along the beach at Bjornhamna, about as far to the northwest as you can get on the map of Spitsbergen. I knew that once the satellite phone came out of the bag everything would change rapidly, and while I was looking forward to a hot shower, it was good to have a bit more time in touch with the hairs on the back of my neck as I kept an eye out for polar bears.

I found out the ship Nordstjernen was in the area and 15 mins after a zodiac turned up I was done, with big hugs for the team - the next walruses, glaciers and whales I would see would be from the deck of the ship. In a haven of beer, central heating and friendly Norwegians, I reflected on whether there are any lessons to be learned from this rather expensive artic experience. While the obvious one is preparation - it would have been useful to have done a few big crossings and learned about exposure and resulting panic somewhere closer to home - others were familiar themes of motivation (the more miserable you are, the keener about the end goal you need to be) and the fact that money can get you out of most tight places, if you pick when you pull the plug.

After three days on board ship it felt great to stretch my legs in Longyearbyen, and hear the news fro m Ra and Mim. No more tedious polly-epistles promise (I'm off to run some nice stress free whitewater) but do watch this space for how they get on! The ice forecast for the hinlopen straight is positive, with continued winds from the south and west. They have two great boats, three guns, a lot of excellent food and half a bottle of whisky. No one has sucessfully made it round in the last ten years.

Fingers crossed!
Polly

FELLOWSHIP SPLITS

POLLY HAS DECIDED TO LEAVE THE TRIP, & HAS GOT ON A CRUISE SHIP TO LONGYRBYEN. MIM & RA REPACKING & CONT NORTHWEST.

A GREAT WARM UP

BEAUTIFUL SUNNY START, TAIL WINDS. NOW FREEZING. PUFFINS & SEALS LOVELY. WALRUSSES VERY EXCITING! MUCH TIME IN TENTS. HOPE 4 SUN.

We're off!

We leave tomorrow - Tuesday 26 June - and the sun is out in Longyearbyen. It must be nearly 15 degrees if you’re not in the wind! Lovely. As you won’t see any pictures till we’re back - here are some artic pics taken in the past couple of days.

It’s been great to take some time to sort stuff out before taking off. We’ve practiced shooting at the rifle range, considered food drops, sorted waterproof gun bags, packed all the food and developed a couple of options for our trip wire system. The locals have been unbelievably friendly and helpful. And of course by staying the weekend we got to celebrate the summer solstice... and recover from the party.


Before the party, new friends Eric and Liv made us a gorgeous fruit salad and made sure we started the night well with champagne and beer at their place. The boys went swimming at 2 in the morning... after lots more beer.



Playing with guns starts off scary but with some time at the rifle range we were all a lot more comfy. I put big holes in the 25m target with Miriam's shot gun. If the polar bears are as accomodating I'll be fine.

Yesterday we packed - and much to Miriam and my surprise everything fit in the boats! Ra, our eternal optimist, was completely sure it would all go.

And a fairly dreadful shot of Svalbard reindeer, truly strange beasties, visiting the campsite.

I'm feeling a funny mixture of excitement and nervousness. We're all pretty keen to get the paddles in the water!
Hugs to all
Polly, Mim, Ra

Longyearbyen, Svalbard

Arriving yesterday at 2am, we were greeted by a blast of 6 degree air on bare arms (and in Ra's case, legs) and what seemed to be an overcast afternoon sky. Both completely toasted, we lugged our considerable pile of gear out of the airport, though a building site and down a coal smeared hill to the sea - and Miriam's yellow olympus tent. It is great to be here and see the team.

Longyearbyen is a town full of surprises. As you drive in, your first view is of old coal mines and the infrastructure needed to support mining. In other places, you might expect this rubbish to be cleaned up - here is preserved as part of the island's heritage, and there are strict rules about looking after it. While fresh food is understandably very expensive, it's much cheaper to buy beer here than it is in mainland Norway, as the Sysselmannen (govenor) imposes much lower taxes. It's ridiculously easy to buy outdoor gear, excellent baking, and weapons (a common sight is people biking about town with a large shotgun on their back). Reindeer graze what passes for grass here, and we've seen eider ducks and various sorts of tern.

We're sorting thru the extraordinary pile of gear and food needed for the trip, and quizzing mostly friendly locals about everything from fishing to huts to ice and walruses. I've seen my first proper map! It really is a loooong way round.

We woke up this morning to discover that demolition Longyearbyen style is to burn down buildings, to give the fire team some much needed practice. Here is our tents, kayaks, and the fire, with the airport control tower behind it. Classic.

It looks like we'll be off Monday at the earliest, which gives us the opportunity to join in the solstice celebration here (and recover from it!) and find our more about possible food drops. My fingers are crossed, although Ra hopes fervently we'll be able to fit it all in the boats.

Love to all!

Polly, Miriam, Ra

Artic adventure

Flying half way round the world always makes my head spin, and the contrast of winter Wellington to summer Maidenhead has been unreal - especially considering this week is all about getting to know new baby Isabelle, 3 weeks old tomorrow and the delight of Colin and Jules.

Maidenhead is a wee stop on route to the biggest adventure yet. Friends Ra and Mim dreamed up the idea of sea kayaking round Spitsbergen, the largest island in the Svalbard archipelago, and our last few months have been on fast forward, sorting gear and logistics, working full time, and training when possible. Fantastic to think that this time next week the team will be in Svalbard.

We'll start the trip in Longyearbyen, the island's largest settlement, and head north on the 1200km mission. Spitsbergen is home to more polar bears than people, and despite early whaling and coal mining, it's now protected by the Norwegian government. I'm hoping we'll see some truly extraordinary landscape and enjoy the creatures who live there.

Our first task will be to pack a small mountain of gear into three sea kayaks. We have eight weeks food and two of most things, and the aim is to get round self supported. Boating! Can't wait to get those first paddle strokes in the water.

We've got a satellite phone, and a spare battery, and the plan is to text Louis updates, who will then put these on this blog. We'll try to send news once a week. Please be aware that if our "frivolous" battery runs out then there will be no more updates!

Everyones' good wishes and enthusiasm for this trip have been amazing. Thank you all - and see you in the spring.

Polly

Home!

Home! It’s glorious. December went by quickly, with masses of family time and as it was the wettest December on record, regular runs on the local Hutt gorge. I struggled with the usual headspace issues created with landing in a new place, with added complications that actually this place isn’t new, I was born here…

Christmas hurtled by, and it was time to meet up with the lovely Kate on the ferry south. Sharing stories from the last three years over a few monteiths she proposed that instead of heading straight to the Coast, we join a four day sunshine trip down the Clarence on route. With more old friends, sun and a raft full of wine and cheese at the put in, the plan seemed a cracker. Ignoring the weather forecast of a looming southerly, we floated down through one of New Zealand’s largest high country sheep stations, feeling a long way from the rest of the country’s holiday plans. The southerly hit the next day, and as I rowed the raft through driving sleet I reflected I had not been as cold running the Etive in the snow.

Five days later we emerged in Murchison, where the weather had been hot and people had started to wonder where we were. Laps on the lower Matakitaki restored feelings of being on holiday and it was fabulous to catch up with the kayak school team. We cruised down a day later to Hokitika, for the wet west film festival – and some proper west coast boating.

A day out on the Whitcombe was a much needed break from the constant social whirl, and despite the fact that Ngaio and I didn’t run our most stylish lines, we did reflect that three years ago we had a very different experience – mine largely on the bank of Colliers Gorge. That night Mick was down from Murch and we set up a team for the Arahura. With a sunny day and a lovely high end of medium flow, I spent a moment at the put in quaking that everyone else on this team is famous, and what am I doing here? This thought disappeared as soon as we dropped into the first rapid, and we had one of those shiny days out where everyone flies over drops and the smiles at the takeout last all the way back to town. More old mates turned up and we ran the more of the classics and went back for repeats. Prayers for rain were answered and we walked into the Styx and romping down the lower runs. It cleared again and we kept Dando busy, amazed that we managed to get two good weeks in without having to stir from our base at the campground in Hoki.

Employed for the first time in eight months, it’s been good to have a routine which includes walking thru the town belt on the way to work, and regular swims in the harbour in the evenings. Wellington is a sparkly wee village, and I’ve actually bought a house in Kilbirnie, close to the only surf beach in town. Happily, I could rent it out tomorrow, so that feels about the right level of commitment for now. I’ll be back in the UK for a spot of baby admiration in June, before taking on the biggest adventure yet – a circumnavigation of Spitsbergen in Svalbard. Eighteen months ago two inspired (or mad?!) friends dreamed up the mission to sea kayak for eight weeks round an island a looong way north of Norway. While it’s difficult to train for artic conditions, 100kg boats and 50km days in Wellington harbour, I’m doing my best.

Chai and samosas

Namaste!

I've been boating with an ever-increasing team of absolutely lovely boaters. Yoga sessions, serious attention to eating and drinking and occaisional river trips have all been good. It seems that the objective of coming away from this trip svelte and fit is being happily dashed.

Meeting Ngaio off the plane and hearing James' classic kiwi accent has been like visiting home without going there. On a four day trip down the sun kosi, we pitched our candy striped fly with matching groundsheet, and the boys learned about girl talk under the stars. John, our token pom, has been a nice balance to my excessive enthusiasm to paddle constantly.

It's the first time I've re-visited anywhere, and Nepal is a great place to come back to. The locals have had a pretty hard time here over the last few years, and it's amazing they've retained their friendly openness. I'm finding it more difficult to be constantly delighted about some things (small children, tourist shops) but the essentials of Nepali river trips, chai, samosas and days and days of boat scoutable class four are outstanding.

We've managed a nice balance between self support trips and staying in villages - and even had a Nepali cultural evening put on by the local school for us one evening. The boys did some sort of haka as their contribution, and Ngaio and I tried to keep up with the graceful hand and wrist movements made by the local women. For those who've been boating here, we've had great trips on the Balephi, the Modi and Madi Kholas, and are planning our next move... maybe way out west.

I've been unemployed for that glorious amount of time that means I've forgetten entirely about what it means to go to work, and have only the vaguest feeling that I'll need to find a job in the future. It's fabulous.
Polly

A bedtime story for creekboaters

Heya all

Duncan and I have been boating our way thru the middle of BC - to the town of Likely (where the hell is Likely?) visited the abandonned mining town of Quesnel Forks - down thru the desert with truly enormous rivers (the Thompson is low at 2700 cfs) and to shiny Whister (more like Queenstown than I feel comfortable with).

The Cariboo/Chilcoten area has a feel not unlike remote spots on the NZ west coast - where the land is rugged and the search for gold is still seen in the rivers today. We've had some truly magic days on the water - highlights were the Chilko, Stein and Nahatalatch and met more lovely locals. At the cark park (read kayakers camping area) for the upper Cheakamus we met some Americans from North Carolina who are writing a guidebook to the best places to boat in the US.

Duncan decided he was not up for class 5 about the same time I discovered that low volume creeks are simply wonderful. We've been out exploring waterfalls - most memorably Rogers
Creek, a bedrock gorge with three 20 foot drops. A mandatory 60 footer! Leland laughed as we got out in the eddy before the first drop. The pools were green and it was possible to stop and surf the boils between each fall, waiting for each member of the team to plummet off the edge and land safely clear of the hole at the bottom. Leland got some truly spectacular photos as we managed to coordinate Andrea and Taylor's run of the second and third drop simultaneously. At the bottom of the drops we whooped and hugged each other - giddy with the fun of it all going so well.

We spent a few more days boating with this team (on Callaghan, Snowcap, Soo and Cayoosh creeks), before heading to Skookumchuck, and got the playboats off the roof. This amazing tidal playspot comes with rave reviews, and despite feeling sore, I had two days of fabulous surfing. Clear water, purple starfish, red aneomones and more friendly locals... bliss.

Our tour of BC was to finish at the Ashlu festival. Set up by locals to publicise and preserve one of the most beautiful rivers I've ever seen, the an 11th hour decision by the provincial govenment to support a hydro scheme means that it was the last chance to get down the mighty Ashlu.
The friendly mini-mine section and play run are gorgeous, and with encouragement from a group of truly superb group of local(ish) boaters I decided to take on the harder mine run. It's awfully big in there - one rapid "ate my lunch!" as they say here.


Our BC trip is done... the only thing left to sort is - how can I persuade the powers that be to let me move to Vancouver?

love to you all
Polly

Logjams great and small

Hey all

Duncan and I have been exploring the small corner on the bottom right of the truly enormous province of BC, where the rivers are all at a fantastic medium flow, the sun shines all day, and at night you sometimes get an impromptu displayof awesome lightening and thunder storms.

We're learning about what it means to travel together. Duncan is like a specially sensitive mosquito campsite test- get him out of the car at any time of day and wait five minutes. Been bitten yet? No. Excellent, we can stop here then. Mozzies here are ferocious and don't seem to understand that they are supposed to be nocturnal.

After driving up thru Glacier National Park (beautiful!) we abandonned Seattle friends in Alberta and drove west in search of water. And found it. A week of boating in the Kootenays has made us into - if not a seamless team - at least a functional one. A day on Horsethief creek at highflow illustrated the fact that in a 2 person team you have to constantly be on your game. We both had sobering encounters with logs in one rapid, with the result that Duncan hiked out of the canyon while I cautiously pursued his boat down the river. Towing a creek boat past logjams great and small I reflected how wood is such an important hazard here in the northwest.

The locals are awfully nice here. We've had offers of help, shuttles and information from strangers on the river bank who quickly became friends.

Just as I surfaced from the news of losing one friend on theriver, another drowned in on the Sjoa in Norway. Chris Rendu was a great Hurley buddy - a person who enjoyed his boating more than anything else, whether taking photos or trying outhis new tricks on the wave. I've been thinking a lot about those who were with Chris on the river and all those who will miss him now he's gone.

Mick, who runs the NZ Kayak School has a habit of saying things as if they were written on huge bulletin boards on the highway. Sooty told me how he proclaimed one morning at an instructors meeting "Just bring them back alive!" While you can obsess too much about risk, I'm definitely developing a new and more conservative approach to my paddling on this trip.

We met up with the Seattle truck convoy again and ran a few local gems with long shuttles that we simply couldn't manage on our own. Sharing stories, beers and help with flat tires has been fun. We'll next head north to Kicking Horse river, and up to Jasper where as well as being tourists (Banf! Lake Louise!) we'll go in search of the mighty Fraser.

love to you all
Polly

The land of the brave and free

Hey gorgeouses

While mates from NZ come to an end of their 2 year working holiday visas, my first bug trup has begun. Leaving the UK I felt I was leaving home - home is after all where your friends are, where your local playspot is, with tofu burgers on the bbq and the coffee smells like it's time to spring out of bed.

A couple of weeks of being a lady of leisure in Maidenhead coincided with the world cup and much time on the couch with beer in hand proved essential training for future kayaking expeditions. Time also for a last trip to the French Alps and some truly excellent playboating. Mike and Ritz get the friends of the year award for testing, buying and insuring the most immaculate car I have ever owned. Freed of car-shopping duties, I have instead been hanging out and connecting with local paddlers. Seattle has an amazing range of rivers within an hour or two of town. It's all been very relaxed - Ritz and I have been out trying new playboats on the Skykomish and sea kayaking on Lake Washington.

My first weekend in the States was the 4th of July weekend - Independence day. As we headed off to the Deschutes River in Oregon, we admired the number of houses swathed in red, white and blue. The Descutes is a lovely 3 day rafting run, and we drank beer and sat in sun and experienced the super mellow pace that is a US rafting trip. Shot any Indians lately? asked Ritz as we passed Warm Springs Reservation.

The best and cheapest fireworks are available on the reservations - to celebrate a holiday which is about as colonial as you get. It's against the law to set off fireworks in Washington State, but the locals were either blissfully unaware of the $500 fine or the sheriff never made an issue of it. Seattle went mad with double and triple happys, as rockets were set off in every back yard. There are so many trees here, I couldn't understand how the whole place didn't go up in
smoke.

We came home to the news that Sam Rainey had died on a river in Norway. The week went out of focus as I struggled to get to grips with something that is still more a matter for tears rather than coherent reflection. There have been lots of emails from the paddling community and like everyone, my thoughts have been constantly with Sarah and Sam's family and with Miriam and Ra who were with him on the river. Sam was a good mate, fantastic on the water and a lovely man. We will all miss him terribly.

Mike and Ritz and I took some time out off the water by joining friends on top of a mountain in the Canadian Cascades for the weekend. Lots of hugs, hiking, gin and dancing helped me gain some sort of perspective, and think cheerfully about paddling again. Like Mick says, sometimes
you have to be lucky ay.

Love and hugs to you all
Polly