Creative thawing of the kemmerer nozzle

Unbelievably, started on the second pull. Way to go Whippy!

Things we Froze Today
4 hands
4 feet
2 survival suits
4 gloves
secchi rope
zooplankton net
zooplankton net rope
integrated water sampler (of death)
kemmerer (inside and out)
kemmerer rope
boat
cargo net (to the boat)
motor
motor tilt switch
buoy(s)
pH sensor
gas tank

Things that we Broke Today
kemmerer (several times)
Horiba water quality meter
Marilynn's knee
Heidi's back
Marilynn's sanity
Heidi's patience

Bubba Big Munch

So, after leaving the Kent Peninsula, Marilynn and I moved to our next site at the Naujaat Hills. We decided to employ new anti-bear tactics, including anchoring the boat offshore (as previously mentioned) and taking a bear monitor along with us. The Naujaat Hills were beautiful, the charr fishing was fabulous, and we were in high spirits. On the last day we said to each other, "we probably don't need a bear monitor, we'll be on the water most of the day and we haven't seen any bears." We did take our shotgun as per usual, though.

Well, approximately 3 hours into the day, Marilynn and I were electrofishing in the rapids that cascade down from the lake.

Marilynn: "Heidi, what's that?"

Heidi: "THAT'S a bear, eating our gear. Again."

Marilynn: "What should we do?"

Heidi: "First, I think we should remove all things from our bodies that are trippy, such as electrofishers."

Marilynn: "Good plan."

So, the usual routine. Fired off bear bangers. No response from bear. Sounded air horn. No response from bear. Shot off 8 shotgun shells in direction of bear. No response from bear. Bear is between us and the boat, and is ripping apart my brand new $100 seal bag.

Heidi: "YOU BUGGER. UNHAND MY SEAL BAG."

Marilynn: "Heidi, perhaps we should be happy he is not eating the boat. "

Heidi: "Indeed. Perhaps we should also contact camp."

At this point, we decided to move to a point where we had a better view of the bear and, since he was not responding to bear deterrants, wait until he got bored. He eventually did, and we took the opportunity to move to the zodiac. Since the radio and satellite gods were not with us on this fine day, we then removed our gill nets and followed the bear up the shore with the boat to get some pictures while we waited for our helicopter pickup time.

Marilynn: "Heidi, that is a rather large bear. Do you think there is anything left of our seal bags?"

Heidi: "Very unlikely. He probably ate my cliff bar, too, dammit!"

Marilynn: "Heidi, I believe we have lost another cooler."

The bear was then named Bubba Big Munch, because it was big and munched everything. We lost our best field bags, a cooler, and my second bottle of sunscreen. Sigh.

We are now known as the "bear girls."

The easiest thing we've ever done. Stupid Spinny. Stupid Chewy.

Spinny Escapes: Part Deux

After the arrival of Chewy, we decided that the safest course of action for boats was to anchor them offshore. Unfortunately, we may or may not have miscalculated the force of outgoing currents with the tide.

Emerging from the cabin after a satisfying lunch of soup and nut bread, Marilynn saw Heidi yell, “Shit! Where in the hell is Spinny?” and run down the hill as fast as one wearing waders and dodging hummocks can run. Mark the bear monitor spotted Spinny, approximately 300 metres offshore in the Arctic Ocean and well out of swimming range. Inside Spinny, there were floats, rope spools, and the depth sounder. Decision time.

Marilynn: Can we finish the work without that boat?

Heidi: Maybe, but we’d have to pull up a gill net without a boat, which may involve swimming down and cutting off the anchor and then dragging it from shore. Not fun. I think we should drag the zodiac down the rapids and retrieve Spinny.

Marilynn: Heidi, we then have to get the boat back UP to the lake, and Chewy chewed the cart. I think we should let the dingy go.

Heidi (pathologically stubborn): I really think we should get Spinny.

Marilynn: I really disagree with this decision. Okay, let’s go.

We proceeded to drag the zodiac down the bouldery rapids until we became permanently stuck about 2/3 of the way down. We removed the 4-stroke motor (which we were now cursing because it is extremely heavy to haul through bouldery rapids), and finished hauling both to the foot of the rapids. At this point, Spinny was out of sight but Mark the bear monitor had kept an eye on its trajectory. We followed the waves out into Parry Sound and spotted Spinny with the binoculars about 3 miles offshore.

Heidi: Well, we said we wanted to see the view from the ocean.

Marilynn: This is the most ridiculous thing I have ever done. Rescuing a DINGHY in the Arctic Ocean.

Heidi: THERE SHE IS!!!! And we’re actually rescuing the rope. We are fresh out of sideline without those spools.

Marilynn: So, this entire calamity can pretty much be blamed on our chronic shortage of sideline?

Heidi: Yup.

Whereupon we pulled up, deflated Spinny, and placed her firmly in Zippy. Upon arriving back on shore, Heidi said,

“Let’s take stock. The boat, boards, and motor weight approximately 700 lbs (as estimated by the helicopter while slinging). We have no cart because Chewy chewed the wheels. In other news, we can’t deflate the zodiac and take it apart because Chewy chewed the air hose so we won’t be able to re-inflate it.”

Marilynn: This is going to be the EASIEST thing we’ve ever done (this is our canned line whenever something is going to be ridiculously difficult).

Marilynn cunningly fashioned handles out of some random tubing we found on the shoreline and we hauled the motor (as pictured) 500 m up and down a hill in the sled sans wheels. The boat, well, we don’t have a picture of that. Basically, we took ratchet straps, hooked them around our shoulders, and started pulling 300 lbs of boat. For 500 m. Up and down a hill. Over tundra.

Spinny may be burnt at the end of the season. Grrrrrrr.

Heidi, looking a little swollen after swimming for Spinny

Spinny Escapes: Part 1

So, when we were out on the Kent Peninsula we had a zodiac on Nauyuk Lake. Zippy is a nice, sturdy zodiac with a peppy 4-stroke 15 hp motor. There is a set of rapids that joins Nauyuk Lake to the Arctic Ocean and this set of rapids is impassable to zodiacs. So, on the ocean side we had an inflatable dinghy (no motor, no keel). The dinghy’s name is Spinny, named for her incredible penchant for spinning.

Well, we may or may not have miscalculated the height of tide at this particular location. Emerging from the cabin after a satisfying lunch of nut bread and cashew butter, Marilynn watched Heidi yell, “SPINNY!!!!” and run down the hill as fast as one wearing waders and dodging hummocks can run. Heidi thought she could still grab Spinny with her waders on. Marilynn, meanwhile, grabbed Heidi a long iron pole that happened to be lying on shore. Heidi charged into the water, extended the extremely heavy pole, and felt herself slide down an extraordinarily slippy piece of algae-covered bedrock. Deciding that all was lost anyway, she dropped the pole and started swimming (in waders) after Spinny. Spinny was retrieved, and Marilynn laughed for at least 15 minutes at Heidi’s waders, so full of water that she looked like she was 300 lbs.
We have decided that Spinny is a recalcitrant teenager, bent on escape.