Day 4 Devon Island and the trail of the St Roch

Day 4 Thurs Aug 28

 

Walking on Devon Island

We've sailed east through the night, into another time zone, and almost to the mouth of Lancaster Sound.  If we continued directly east another 400 km Greenland would be our next port of call.  But instead we cruise into a small inlet on the south shore of Devon Island, beneath the massive ice cap that covers the eastern half of the island.  Sandstone cliffs top darker older formations in long U shaped glacial valleys.  Several glacial tongues reach down to the sea and the bays are littered with icebergs large and small.




The tundra on Devon Island, starkly beautiful in summer light

Devon Island is the largest uninhabited island in the world, but it wasn't always so.  The Dorset lived here in historically, then the Thule Inuit who crossed Beringia from Siberia arrived here perhaps 1000 years ago, hunting the abundant caribou, muskox, seals and whales.  More recently the RCMP briefly maintained a presence with a lonely outpost staffed by constables and local Inuit aides.  Nowadays, somewhere in the bleak interior, a private group live in splendid isolation pretending to emulate a Martian outpost.  Seriously.

We've been eager to explore ashore, so finally released from the zodiacs we divide into groups and surge off to see hilltops, artifacts, flora and fauna.  Our guides are adamant that we travel in groups, attended by a leader with a rifle, even though they thoroughly scouted the area for bears before we arrived.  To our advantage, someone knowledgeable is always on hand to spot birds, explain geology or identify scat.

The remains of a Thule winter home, a cave in the permafrost

The Thule site is a simple collection of rock circles - the ancient equivalent of tent pegs to hold their homes down in wind - and a few smooth oval mounds.  These are the remains of winter homes dug into the ground, covered over with earth, stones, and bones to make a tiny cave dwelling.  Perhaps they wished they had never come.

The RCMP outpost is a forlorn collection of clapboard buildings on a barren plain looking east to the sea.  A small graveyard contains three bodies, including one poor constable who committed suicide on his lonely watch.  Common sense must have dictated that this was hardly a feasible use of resources.  The post was abandoned in the 1930s.

The RCMP play a significant role in our voyage.  We are commemorating the 70th anniversary of the RCMP ship St Roch.  From 1940-42, the St Roch made her eastbound crossing of the north, spending 2 winters in ice.  In 1944 the little boat made the first ever single season crossing, returning to Vancouver.  These were the war years, and with the threat of both Russia and Japan at our shores the government had made a priority of a northern presence.  Pity we don't value our northern sovereignty now.   This afternoon one of our group give a talk on these voyages.  Doreen Larson Reidel is Captain Henry Larson's daughter, and she fills her talk with personal stories and wonderful slides.

A full day, and a satisfying one.  After hot toddies on the forward deck at happy hour, and wine with dinner, we fall into dreamless sleep.




A more bleak and dreary home I can't imagine.

The RCMP post on Devon Island, lost, alone and far away.