11 Sep Novara in the Arctic NWP – stuck in ice!

When was the last time you felt gratitude for overcoming a significant challenge? Here’s a story from last week on board Novara that will stay with me forever.

It’s Wednesday 3 September, and we knew we had our biggest ice challenge coming up. Ice charts showed significant pack ice almost blocking our path west. When we reached the ice around midday, we tried to get through, but the ice was just too thick. So we carried on, probing the edge of the pack ice.

Our first mistake was to keep going in the dark. The ice edge took us towards shore – generally there are leads through ice near shore – and when Veronica and I were on watch we thought we could see a break through to open water. Wrong! Another big mistake. We pressed Novara in to it, pushing aside a couple of flows the size of buses. In 5 minutes we had pushed 20m into the pack. What we didn’t realise was that, in the dark, the pack was closing up behind us. The next thing we knew we were stuck with no room to maneuver and 50 metres of thick hard ice behind us. And it was dark. Soon I’d lost all sense of direction. We were surrounded by ice as far as our light could reach.

We pushed and reversed against huge blocks of ice. The sound was horrendous as the side of Novara graunched against the flows, the propeller creating turbulence around us. But no progress. There was a lead to our left, but we couldn’t bring the bow round to port because the wind blew us in the wrong direction. We desperately needed to use the bow thruster, but with shards of ice in the water, we daren’t for fear of breaking the thruster propeller. The rudder hit a flow as I reversed. There was an almighty scream of metal against ice. God I hope I haven’t broken our steering! Next the propeller is grinding against an ice foot. Another potentially dangerous development. Novara shuddered the length of the hull and we heard groans, and the raw guttural shriek of metal on ice. I was truly scared we wouldn’t get out.

To hell with it. We needed the bow thruster or we were toast. I pushed the button and our bow started to move to Port. Seagar kept a close watch to ensure no ice entered the thruster tunnel. “Stop!” he yelled. We were about 20 degrees to port. Hard forward on the throttle and turn the wheel to port some more, and  we were inching forward. There’s the lead. But by the time we’d got the five metres to it, it had closed. Another lead, let’s go. It too closed. Let’s try to push the flows away. Nudging against them, we put full throttle. Nothing. Hang on, a small movement, yes, we were pushing it aside. Inch by inch we were pushing a lump of ice several tonnes in weight aside, which in turn was pushing others aside. Another lead opening. This one we took and we’re in another hole. Repeat the technique. Push, reverse, bow thruster. Another few meters ahead. And another. And another.

An anxious 2 hours later we pushed and crunched and were finally out. The feeling of relief is still palpable. We had survived, and I feel supremely grateful for having such a strong and competent team around us. And for a strong boat!