22nd April North Pole – Resolute Bay

Emma writes: here is a backdated entry from when the pilots reached the North Pole. I’m sorry it didn’t go up on the site at the time, not sure what happened there…

Jennifer writes from Resolute Bay, 22nd April: We made it to the North Pole! We touched down at 4.15pm local time (22.15 UTC) on 20th April at North 90.00.00 East,West. 00.00.00.

After nine long days of waiting at Eureka we finally got what looked like a good window for the onward push to the Pole. Together with the station manager at Eureka, Al Gaudet and Twin Otter Captain, Bob Heath we checked and double checked the weather - it was all go. I called Victor Boyarski at Borneo, the Russian station (60 miles from the Pole), ‘Jennifer the weather is good, weather at the Pole is good, here is good!’

We took off at 9.15am (local) for our fuel cache at Ward Hunt Island, 320 miles to the north under clear blue skies. Conditions were marvellous and spirits high. It even looked as though we would, as planned, be able to route south via the Russian Base and Norway as the whole route southwards from the Pole to Svalbard appeared clear. With a bit of luck it looked as though we would be able to go with the high pressure system. Having had so many delays, Colin and I had both agreed that unless the onward weather south was clear we would have to route south by Canada – we couldn’t afford to find ourselves stuck at Borneo.

We flew ever north over the high mountains of Ellesmere Island – the most northerly mountains in the world. Colin was flying the first leg and I was going to fly the leg to the Pole as he did the honours into the South Pole. I had a busy time calling family and friends on the satellite phone to tell them we were on our way – Colin would have a chance to do the same after Ward Hunt. The journey to the fuel cache was gloriously uneventful giving us every chance to enjoy and take a thousand photos of snowy mountains, glaciers and frozen inlets.

As we approached Ward Hunt Island we could see no sign any huts or drums of fuel and were just beginning to have serious doubts about having written down the correct coordinates, when round the corner of the small mountain, nestled in against the hill, we saw the small cluster of empty huts and further out on the ice shelf, the welcoming site of the promised drums of fuel. Colin dropped me off at the huts as I wanted to have a wander around and enjoy the feeling of history, of being where so many intrepid explorers had sheltered before setting off for the North Pole. The one, small, original wooden hut is still there – almost destroyed now by the winds and weather, surrounded by several more modern canvas and aluminum structures – and a privvy. I had my little wander around and then set off to walk to the helicopter, which turned out to be far further away than it looked – at least a mile across the ice. I began to think about polar bears and increased my pace, and to think about fellow Brit, Rosie Stancer, who is intrepidly walking solo to the North Pole. What a brave lady she is – always with the threat of predators and the awful possibility of falling through the ice – having to haul an enormously heavy sledge behind her. I was extremely happy to arrive safely back at the helicopter where Colin had just finished refueling.

Shortly after take off we were in two-way radio contact with Bob in the Twin Otter that was carrying fuel for us if we couldn’t get in to Borneo. They reported that the area of high pressure routing towards Norway had gone and that blizzards were forecast. Colin got through to Borneo and Victor reported that the weather had changed and that they had fog, blowing snow, ice crystals and zero visibility. We got back to Bob, he reckoned the Pole would be on the edge of that weather and hoped it might just be clear. Such is the weather in the high north.

For the first hundred miles out the skies remained clear. We had spectacular views of the pressure ridges, the ice rubble and open leads of water, and more thoughts of Rosie having to cope with it all. The blizzards of the past ten days had caused havoc and great areas of the ice had been on the move. We could see endless tracts of pressure ridges where giant, aquamarine slabs of ice rubble had splintered upwards. Then there were the open and half frozen over leads. The scene, as far as the eye could see was a crazy paving of unstable ice.

Slowly the sun became more and more obscured, the light got flatter and we got more and more anxious. If we were forced to land short of the Pole what would happen? It could be days before we could get into Borneo and even longer to continue to Svalbard. Without the Twin Otter we wouldn’t have the range to get back. Bob told us they couldn’t hang around.
We pressed on with the knowledge of others who had got to within 20 miles of the Pole and had to turn back. The last 40 miles were cliff hanging and seemed the longest miles ever. Then about 20 miles out the light improved fractionally. We could see the Twin Otter off to our left and then Colin saw another aircraft a little above and to the right of the Twin Otter.
It turned out to be one of the Russian military giant Mil 8 helicopters – and then we saw another one. Next we spotted tents on the ground! The North Pole was a hive of activity.
We circled the tents with four sledges. Four figures appeared, jumping up and down and waving a Norwegian flag. I think they had trekked there from the Russian Peninsula at Arktichevsky.  One of the Mil 8’s landed and a stream of Russian tourists came piling out. We landed close by. I jumped out and went over to greet the Russians. Colin remained on the radio, talking to Bob who was trying to find a place to land – very difficult given the flat light. Bob advised that our fuel situation was critical, that we all needed to go and find a suitable place for them to land. So our time visiting the unexpected crowd was very limited. The Twin Otter found a place to land a short distance away where we were all able to celebrate and refuel. Happiness was tinged with regrets about not being able to go by our preferred route, but we got there, we made it to the North Pole – and safely back, tired and happy to Eureka.

I received this email from Pete Ware up at Alert (the military base a little way to the east of Ward Hunt Island.)

‘This is my 4th time in Alert. I have never seen weather like this. Global
Warming is happening and it shows. I've never seen a blizzard up here, but since
I arrived at the end of December, there have been 5. I used to be able to see
Greenland all the time - this time around I have seen Greenland a couple of
times. Open water used to be a rarity, but not now. Large tracts of it all over
the place create fog and stratus. Ice crystals are abundant also.’

The weather window held and yesterday we continued south west here to Resolute. Colin has just called me from the airfield where we went to see if he could find out what the problem is with the tracker box. For all of you following us on Google Earth, you no doubt have seen that is has been intermittent at times. We wondered if the cold or the aerial damaged by the fuel drum blowing into it could have effected it. But it was much more simple: the engineer who installed the new box back in Fairbanks must have only hand tightened the nuts connecting the aerial lead to the tracker box and so it had worked loose. Finally I think we’re back in business.
Colin also said that perhaps we should be on our way to Pond Inlet today as the weather window is ending and possibly our only chance for ages of a good day around Pond Inlet – which is one of the best areas in the Arctic for wildlife as the waters open up there before anywhere else.
More from Pond Inlet!