Northern Highlights: The British Polar Sun Expedition

I had only recently returned to the UK after a late summer’s trip to the Bugaboos;  Warren and I had succeeded in establishing a new 1000m route over 8 days and getting struck by lighting on the summit as a reward!  Consequently, I was still enjoying the unique experience of being completely uninterested in climbing, and could calmly look a guidebook squarely in the face without feeling depressed at the prospect of being stuck behind a desk.  Life was great, but unfortunately it only lasted two weeks.  My urge to climb flooded back just as the October ’94 edition of “Climbing” came out, complete with a 12 page article by Eugene Fisher on  Baffin Island.  I was totally smitten with this  Arctic Big Wall paradise, and so was Warren thousands of miles away in Hawaii, where he was hanging out with his girlfriend.  I should explain that Warren is in the essential oils business and earns his living massaging nubiles in order to sell the stuff.  Some guys just get it tough.

Warren’s original plan was that we form a trio with ex-pat rock ace Kevin Thaw, and simply head out there the following spring and go “murder the mother”.  In true Hollinger style Warren’s only thought was to attempt the biggest thing out there and bugger the consequences. The stupendous  North Face of Polar Sun Spire, lying deep within the confines of Sam Ford Fjord, the most impressive of the 26,  became the immediate objective.  Polar Sun presented a dead vertical sweep of granite estimated by Eugene to be over 4200feet high, greater even than the huge 3800ft. West Face of Mount Thor in the southern sector of the island.   

We faxed and phoned through the Winter, Warren in Hawaii, Kevin in California and myself in Gloucestershire.  Preparation for this trip was especially difficult for me as my wife Jackie was expecting a baby in February ’95, and I was gambling on an early birth !  This was combined with a very busy schedule at specialist retailer’s Cotswold The Outdoor People, heading up their sales and marketing  team. 

13th May 1995.  Flew into Montreal through the early morning light,  Warren was waiting but not with Kevin.  Instead a Colorado climber, Mark Synnott, was with him.  Kevin had had to bail at the last minute, and Warren found a very able replacement, his old buddy with whom he had done a number of hard Valley nail-ups’ as well as the Nose in a day.  We were a trio and suddenly life changed up a gear as we plunged headlong into a frenzied two day session of Wall provisioning and logistics.

As we flew into Clyde River, the tiny Inuit settlement before the ice, reality hit.  It was well below zero, and the only thing I could make out through the swirling snow was a solitary PortaCabin, which was THE Airport, and a mean looking guy wearing a bear fur jacket and a look that came straight off the frozen wasteland that surrounded us .  Jushua Illuaq was to be our guide and arctic mentor for the next week and as I looked into his scarred face I thought inside myself that this was going to be a fun trip, and mind control was going to be top of the agenda.

Within 48 hours we were on our way, powering across the ice on skidoos and into the arctic vastness that is the Eastern Fjords.  Lying slumped on the Komotik (an Inuit sledge)  trying to maintain circulation in the -25 0C wind-chill I thought back to Fisher’s letter of support for our expedition; “The proposed climb on Polar Sun Spire, if successful, will certainly stand as one of the most sustained rock walls in The World, on par with routes on Great Trango.  The violent sea ice peculiar to East Baffin also ensures that this venture will have a seriousness and isolation rivalled only by Antarctic climbs.  This is corroborated by C.D. Len Forest, Commander of the Canadian Coast Guard icebreaker fleet.  In conversations with me he has declared that the ice choked eastern coast of Baffin is ‘Canada’s Pole of Inaccessibility’, more cut off from the World than even the coasts of Ellesmere Island.”

The views coming into Sam fjord were absolutely stunning and we begged our guides to take us on a tour of the very peaks we had dreamed about through the pages of Eugene’s article.  After a 3 or 4 hour ride we decided to leave Polar Sun as our first objective because of the vast amounts of early season snowfall.  We plumbed instead for the gothic might of The Great Cross Pillar, and its awesome South Face.  Great Cross is so named because of a distinct cross that can be seen to the west of the main pillar.  Formed by black water streaks, the cross was not obvious until pointed out to us by Gramps, a village elder and so named by us because we were unable to pronounce his real name, Iqaqrialuq.

We pitched camp right underneath the face on the rock hard sea ice.  Celebrations were well in order.  We had arrived intact , we had a gobsmacking objective right ion front of us and so right on queue Warren produced the old Jack Daniel’s.  Everything would have been fine had it not been for the fact that we had been without sleep by this stage for at least 24 hours, unacclimatised as we were to the constant daylight at these latitudes.  Moreover, our last full meal was over 12 hours ago.  The raw alcohol hit deep, affecting us in very different ways.  Mark fell over unconscious, I started to run around dementadly fearing a polar bear attack at any moment, whilst Warren suddenly leaped to attention and grabbed the rifle that we had been advised to carry because of the bear threat.  He leaped out of the tent and proceeded to blaze a trail of wanton destruction, the sawn off , pumpaction shot gun exploding in his hands as he let fly round after round.  Ice, rock, plastic barrels, all succumbed to the onslaught.  Eventually I managed to wrestle the deadly weapon from his shaking hands.  He collapsed in the tent and went instantaneously into a deep sleep.  The Polar Sun made a complete circle above our heads before we surfaced again.

Having well and truly established Base Camp we immediately started fixing rope, working on a line up the overhanging central buttress of the 2800ft pillar.  We spent 5 days on and off fixing, and then cut loose and blasted for the top.  On the fourth day proper on the wall I took up the belay as Warren proceeded to lead out a 10 hour horror pitch.  It started as a hook traverse on crystals across to a death block. This was so named because it rested on a sloping edge at the start of the seam Warren was about to follow. If he fell he’d take the rock with him, slicing the rope in the process.  Warren then ran it out on body-weight No. 1 Heads to the lip of a small overhang.  Reaching way out in his aiders he made a blind hook placement, rocked over onto it, only to see it oscillate wildly as he came up to eye level with it.  20 meters below I could virtually feel this tiny piece of metal, on which all our destinies depended, vibrate like some supersex toy at an Ann Summers party.  Mark, a full 100meters below us was rushing around doing multiple back flips in an effort to clear the hanging portaledges.  They were in prime drop zone position, directly below the pitch and already the beneficiaries of a number of large missiles Warren had cleared from the route.

It was fully storming by now and yet despite the conditions I was totally gripped by the awesome antics being performed above me.  The hook on which  Warren’s whole life now depended was obviously not happy, forcing him to act quickly.  Like a quick-draw Pro in a pistol shoot-out he whipped a small blade from his rack and threw a hand placement in the thin crack that issued up from the roof below him. He clipped the piece, was just about to weight it, when the hook blew and all 14 stone of him went straight onto the fragile knifeblade.  It immediately slid from 90 degrees to 180.  Downward pointing, hand placed pegs just don’t inspire confidence.  With that in mind Warren decided to take matters into his own hands, literally.  Faced with an imminent fall of around 60 meters, with the death block for company en route, he decided the best option was to go for a sloping ramp up to his left.  Wearing a full Buffalo suit, a 30 pound wall rack and with koflach’s on his feet he made a full out dyno, leaving his aiders  for the soaked rock ledge above.  He grabbed the ramp, but immediately his legs swung free and he hung suspended below the frozen sea ice 800 feet below.   My heart fell in to my salopettes as he mantelshelfed the edge.  His last decent piece of protection was a rivet level with the belay.  Hanging from one arm, Warren pulled off a loose flake to create a foothold, then squeezed one butt cheek on to the ledge.     Directly in front of him, just within arm’s reach, was a perfect No. 2 Camalot placement.  He checked the rack and screamed.  I still had most of the cams at the belay.  He yelled his instructions and I fastened the required units onto the zip line.  Balanced precariously on the tiny wet ledge Warren gingerly pulled the line in through his teeth, grabbed the Camalot and buried it to the hilt.  A1 placement……..Big relief!  Both Mark and I were left stunned at the sheer death- defying bravado of this gnarly Canadian freshman, cranking it out in only his fourth year of climbing.

As we abseiled down to our portaledge camp after the pitch I realised that if I continued with Warren and Mark then we simply would run out of food and water.  I told the others I should be the one to go down, as I was the weakest member and the next day I rapped off the wall.

On June 3, after 13 days of capsule-style climbing, Warren and Mark topped out on the Wall.  Crossfire (VI, 5.10, A4) climbs 19 sixty meter pitches, and ascends the South Buttress Direct of Great Cross Pillar. 

Once safely down Warren got a really bad cold, so Mark and I started work on our original objective, Polar Sun’s huge North Face.  After two days of climbing and over 700 feet of ascent we both decided that it was too dangerous to continue.  The route was threatened by huge hanging blocks of granite in the crack line we were climbing.   As it was Mark nearly died when the rope he was jumaring on, as he cleaned one of the pitches, dislodged a large boulder that caused a minor landslide!

With only 10 days left before our scheduled departure all three of us ferried loads to the base of the 700 meter West face of Second Turret.  We fixed five pitches during several days of bad weather, then blasted in a 40 hour push up and down, establishing Nuvualik (VI, 5.10+, A3+).  This is the Inuit word for the formation, and means “High Point”. 

Near the summit, we were  shocked to find a vintage bolt.  Manteling onto a small ledge just below the top Mark found an ancient-looking 3/8-inch bolt with a heavy steel hanger.  The Turret would clearly not be a first ascent (though our west face route was definitely a FA)but we were totally perplexed as to who had climbed this mountain before us.  It was only after consulting that old Big Wall guru Geoff Hornby many months later that the truth emerged.  As Geoff sardonically commented, if you want to know anything about Canadian climbing always consult the Canadian Alpine Journal.  Geoff even remembered  vaguely an article on Sam Ford and, once questioned, promptly sent me a copy of a report from a Swiss team who had visited the area in 1987.  They had actually climbed 2 routes on the Turret, and one of the climbers was a very young Xavier Bongard, now famous (albeit posthumously) for his ascent of “The Grand Voyage” on Great Trango, the mother of all Big Walls.

Climbing on the Turret was really extreme with pitches involving every discipline of the climbing game.  One pitch that Mark led had both Warren and I staring in disbelief as he used free climbing and direct aid techniques to ascend an iced up, overhung niche, which would have not looked out of place among the pages of “Cold Climbs”.  Nicknamed “The Tunnel of Hoar” this section resembled something like the iced-up interior of a wine bottle. 

On top we realised we had to get off fast.  Looking down into the Fjord we could see the unmistakable signs of early season break-up.  Large cracks ran the entire width of the fjord and we knew it was only days before the skidoo would be unable to get in and many weeks would then ensue before the Inuit fishing boats would be able to rescue us.

Once back down from the Turret we crawled back to Base soaked to the skin in the constant drizzle and bent double with our 45 kilo haul bags.  Within 24 hours we were on the skidoos, in a rush back to Clyde River to catch our flights home.  We ran straight into an horrendous storm and the skidoos got bogged down miles from shore in the early ice break-up.   The machines stopped, we got drenched in the freezing slush, and suddenly frostbite and a slow death seemed a likely conclusion to our otherwise successful expedition.  At the eleventh hour an Inuit Team, also fleeing the storm, turned up out of no-where and together we made it back in one piece……!

For me it was the end of a brilliant trip, but for Warren and Mark it was really just the start. They had already decided to return the following year.  Warren now takes up the story:

THE GREAT AND SECRET SHOW

Having travelled to Baffin’s Eastern Fjords in ’95 with Jerry and let Polar Sun Spire’s imposing North Face stare us down for the 13 days of our Great Cross Pillar ascent,  we realised that we had no choice but to return the following year.  We genuinely thought that this could very well be the largest unclimbed Big Wall on the planet.  Armed with this knowledge we took it as our sworn duty to attempt the route or suffer a life of haunting memories about the “Big One” that got away.  The project received Top Secret status and all serious inquiries were dealt with cunning deception.  Once the smoke screen was laid, we plotted our mission to successfully scale the wall before the competition had any clue they had been scheisted!

With the help of the Mug’s Stump Award, various sponsors and our ever draining VISA cards, we found ourselves once more at the base of the Spire, only this time we were heavily geared, fully briefed from our experiences the previous year, and determined on a new, more direct line up the face.  We took on a new partner, Jeff Chapman; though lacking somewhat in hard big wall FA’s, he was renowned for the amount of pain he could suck up.  The latter quality being an essential ingredient, as we would endure 39 days of climbing and 36 days living on the spire to complete this 4400ft. route up the frigid North Face.  “The Great and Secret Show” (VII, A4, 5.11,WI4) was by far the most demanding route any of us had ever encountered.  After 1000ft of 80-90 degree climbing to a snow ledge, the angle swung hard past vertical and never kicked back for the next 2000ft.  The following 1400ft would average 85-90 degrees to top out this wall. 

Because of the nature of the rock features in Sam Ford Fjord, continuos cracks are not the norm and the 2000ft crux was pieced together by discontinuous corners and incipient seams.  This section accounts for over half the time spent on the route.  Yosemite rules were applied directly, and in most cases, if a pitch could be done with less holes yet would take longer we opted for intricacy.

To describe this show pitch for pitch would be a study in futility.  I believe that understanding how the cogs that make the engine work, and not just the road travelled , is the greater service I can provide.  I would like to leave you with a better understanding of those cogs.  Why were we there?  What kept us on the wall?  How did we handle the solitude?  Which partner did I want to kill first?

The only way I can achieve this is by letting you into my head at the moment the events took place.  So…………..

MAY 21, 1996

I have absolutely no idea what the day is today.  Never quite sure if it’s AM or PM.  But that is how it is out here.  It seems that we are mostly up in the middle of the night since the wall is sometimes in the sun during those hours if it’s not cloudy or storming.  I’ve been real lax about the entries in the journal, so here is the recap:

we flew into Clyde River May 5th and stayed in a hotel for the next three days.  We did a show for the school and all the students, educating them on what the foreigners will be doing when they come to climb.  Unfortunately I think we all caught colds from the kids that 2 weeks later we still haven’t shaken.  An incredible journey was spent touring the Gibbs and Clark Fjords (the two above the Sam Ford Fjord) scoping the imposing lines for future teams.  There are so many walls waiting to be done.

We raced back to Sam Ford with the thought that a Japanese team may try to get on Polar Sun first.  The next day was great and we fixed two pitches when the Japanese showed up and told us they would only climb 1000ft and come back next year to do the wall.  With a population of 125 million packed onto 4 small islands I guess you have got to grab any excuse to get away.

That night a big storm hit and 60 + mph winds ripped the sides out of our tent and we dove at everything that was about to be blown down the fjord.  In our underwear, covered in snow, we scrambled to get clothes on and hoped none of the really important pieces got blown away.  What a start!

JUNE 8, 1996

(Day 15, On Wall:12)

First hanging bivy off snowledge.  We’re now 1600ft up the route, and have spent 12 nights sleeping on the wall.  Went down for more food and fuel on June 4 after 18 gallons of water froze solid and we determined that 3 ½ gallons of fuel was not enough.    On June 6th we headed back up the wall with 21 days of food stretchable to 30 in a pinch.  Through the headwall we have bought 26 gallons of water (206lbs) five haul bags , three bullet bags, one bucket, and two portaledges.   The wall is steeply overhanging for the last 600ft and so there is no way to get back to the anchors.  We are totally committed now!

JUNE 12

(Day 19. On Wall: 15)

We have found that the person with the day off seems to have to suck it up quite a bit because food is always on the mind.   Our rations are very sparing right now.  Consequently, we are all a bit edgy and probably have one heated argument every day or two.  We’ll go a bit heavier once we make it to the next snowledge 8 pitches above us.  I figure we are all pretty hungry seeing that a day on the wall for us is 36 hours.  The pitch for that day may take 10-12 hours to lead, and we cook in the morning, jug, haul the day’s supplies, lead, clean the pitch, come down, take off gear, discuss the pitch and cook dinner.  This takes about 20-24 hours each day.  So we are consuming one day’s worth of food every 36 hours. This definitely makes for grumbling stomachs!

Bivvy living is very comfortable.  This new A5 Diamond ledge is the shit.  It definitely makes this climb bearable.  The man in the hammock downstairs (Little Rico) has it pretty cushy yet you have to sleep on your back, never on your side, but you get use to it.  Upstairs is wider, longer and taller than regular doubles, and the breathable fly stops condensation from building up and turning to ice.  Not so in Little Rico but that’s the breaks.   We take turns in Little Rico; two nights down, four nights up.  At least you can sneak between the fly and the ledge to go up and down, so you can avoid leaving the shelter.

The wind has been mild or non-existent for the longest time.  The weather has been getting warmer (relative term) rising above freezing occasionally.  Though it has been overcast for the last 5-6 days.  The ice is showing real signs of melting.  Major cracks are forming and the snow has almost melted off the top leaving that reflective sign of naked ice ready to change to it’s liquid state.  With this weather comes some other draw backs, it may start raining.  The wall’s snow supply is melting. That means some of the cracks will be soaking wet and running with water.  This could result in hypothermia for the leader on the day.

I am a bit worried about the last part of the route up the right side of the pillar.  It is all black stained and probably fed by a snowpatch behind the pillar.  Another problem with the warmer temperatures is that at least every 30 minutes, all day long, rocks are cutting loose all around us.  Luckily we have picked a very steep route and the bivvy is under roofs.  But when we hit the large snowledge we will not have the same luck finding good shelters for the portaledge.  We will have to play it by ear.

It sounds like a war zone around here.  Missiles fly by and crash into ledges.  It’s pretty wild, yet it becomes routine.  It is actually enjoyable when we get a moment to trundle something big (not always as fun for the leader who is continually worried about chopping himself or his rope).  We all get ready and watch the show.  Jeff seems to get the biggest loose shit.  He cut loose a 500-800 lb. Block.  Whoa! Did that one ever explode  We pull all the ropes in tight and watch the missile tear up the air and hear it explode a second or two after we see impact.

Today has turned out quite nice.  It is Mark’s lead and I have the day off.  I cleaned up the rock dust and shrapnel chunks out of the ledge.  Straightened things up a bit and repaired a burn hole in Jeff’s sleeping bag.  He has been smoking 3-5 cigarettes a day and is not a practised smoker.  We have been working well  as a team, drying out each other’s kit, repairing each others shit. Big news! Just got an hour of direct sunlight!

I sometimes secretly wish we could stay up here longer.  On the mellow days there seems to be no other place I would rather be.  The living is hard, yet comfortable.  The quiet is so fantastic, not another human being for  miles.  No sound except the air in your ears and the rock missiles.  People think we are crazy but they have no idea the world they are missing.  I hope one day I can let people, at least vicariously, live these moments with me again.  I know Erika will.  I have been thinking a lot about her lately.  It seems  odd that so soon into our first year of marriage I am in a far away land, apart from her.  I yearn to be with her yet I am torn by my compulsion to have these incredible experiences.  How could I be blessed to have the best of all worlds.  I hope she is not too scared for me.  If she knew how relaxed and happy I am right now I think she would be able to handle our distance better.

It was my lead yesterday (48 hours ago).  I had a 13 ½ hour lead and an hour drilling the belay.  I was exhausted.  It started with a bolt ladder (17 rivets) which took 4 ½ hours, then I never placed another bolt for the next 100+feet.  It was scrappy; 10-15 heads, 10 Bird Beaks, 4-5 Baby knifeblades and a few small Arrows.  The guys thought for sure I would have to drill and said it was a great lead.  Hard to say If I would have taken a 200ft. fall.  The No. 3 Heads were good yet you could not very well call them A1 placements?  Mark cleaned the pitch and was amazed at how easily all the pieces came out, especially the beaks.  The rock was very loose and flaky and I came down covered in dust and dirt.  It was caked in my eyes and clothes and I filled the ledge with it.  I have had rock crusties in my eyes for the last 24 hours.  Not good. We are moving like slugs, but still trying to enjoy the process, not the goal.

JUNE 17

(Day 24, ON THE WALL:21)

Apparently today is the day we were to be picked up and brought back to Clyde.  That is definitely not to be.  We are 2600ft up the wall and have no intention of turning around until we reach the top.  Sorry Erika.

Jeff has just led 10 hours while it snowed on me for 6 of those hours.  It was wet snow, almost rain and kept me huddled in the belay bag.  Luckily Jeff appreciated my situation and didn’t asked to be zipped any extra gear. 

I crank out the next pitch in an amazing 6 hours, our fastest for weeks.  We are cutting our sleep back and will attempt to go faster on the upper section, and try and get 2 pitches in a day.  We are all hustling, hoping we can make it out before break-up.  The guys aren’t so psyched about staying here for 6 more weeks and another wall.   I knew they wouldn’t want to do another climb when we got up on this one.

Mark and Jeff are trying to make a single push to the top of the big snowledge.  It looks to be 200ft to the lip and 100ft up to the top of the ledge.  After 10 long pitches of overhanging rock we are happy to see continuous cracks and less than vertical climbing.  The weather is getting colder ( good news for getting back to Clyde, bad news if you are climbing).  It is full white out conditions and the guys have opted to go without the belay ledge.  They have been out for 8 hours.  I hope they make it back before they get too cold.

Looking down at the ice – what a fantastic view!  We notice that the ice is looking more solid than last year.  Yet the cracks are HUGE!  They cut across the mouth of the fjord in 5 or 6 places.   That alone could stop us getting out, in which case we could end up like Paul Gagner and Rick Lovelace last year.  They nearly starved before being discovered by a native hunting party. We met them coming in last year, as we were preparing to leave.  The only way we will know if we can get out is when we make that fateful call to the Inuit on the radio in a couple of weeks.  Morale is still god though, and we are working like a well oiled machine.

JUNE 22

DAY 29.  ON WALL: 26

I wanted to start this entry all romantic but my initial thoughts have just been literally knocked out of my skull.  A small avalanche nailed me with one large chunk, clocking my noggin.  It felt like it almost knocked me out. No concussion, but I wish I had had my helmet on at the time.

We have been hit by 5 days of snow.  Winds are mild, but the snow is heavy.  We have now reached a big snowledge.  We have stamped out a good platform and set up the bivvy.  Of course the snow started pouring down as we set things up.  Needless to say we and the portaledge was soaked when we stepped in.   But eventually everything dries.  After 24 hours of sleep I venture out .   All hell breaks loose and 5 hours later, after a fantastic A2 Head and Beak seam I call it quits.  I had made 100ft. and I am completely soaked.

We have a  problem with this bivvy.  Apart from being in a drainage zone we are being continuously bombarded by small avalanches, funnelled right into us from above.   The guys headed out at 5pm, by 10 the sun hit, and by 12 the bigger snow patches started sloughing off.  The chunks coming off the top are definitely testing the integrity of this ledge, poles, fly and all.  If something seriously large cuts loose I am not sure what is going to happen.   We have got to get out of here fast.  Avalanches are hitting all around, every 30-60 seconds (no shit it really is that continuous).  The sun is wreaking havoc up there.  Water is pouring down, soaking everything.  Yesterday all our gear froze solid.  Today it is all drenched. 

JUNE 28

DAY 35. ON WALL 32

We established Camp 5 on a big ledge at the top of a full rope length of ice to give us a water ice rating.  The camp was the most incredible perch I have ever seen.  The view is phenomenal!  We took tons of pictures so everyone would get a feel for what it was like.  Our portaledge now sits on the edge of the pillar, 3500ft. up.

We finally got a couple of splitter days.  The sun is out in full and the avalanche danger is great.  Jeff led the next pitch and found more ice climbing.  Unfortunately the chimney was also flowing from run off and he got worked.  All we could hear were curses and whimpers as if he was going to take the inevitable fall that would kill him.  When he got down to the ledge he was soaked and hypothermic.  Mark and I stripped him, put him into dry clothes and cranked up the stove, and spent the next few hours watching him recover.  We found out later that he had been caught  underneath a waterfall trying to thread a chockstone!

We could see the black corner looming above, vertical and leaking water like a sieve.  I knew  to do these pitches we needed overcast conditions and like clockwork 24 hours later the temperatures dropped to subfreezing.  We blasted.  A 5.10 free pitch led to a natural stance, quickly followed by precarious 5.11 face climbing around a 400lb block.  I knew if I knocked this one off, our bivvy, 300ft below was history.  I managed to make it to the black corner, hoping to find a convenient camalot placement.  Wrong!  It was laser cut, about 12 inches wide and 15feet deep.  The back was full of ice all the way.  Mark led the black corner in about 8 hours with wood blocks, No.5 camelots and rivets. 

The day is clearing up and our timing is perfect.  Jeff heads up from his day off to lead, and the direct sunlight makes his pitch go much faster.  I lead a short 5.10 face pitch to the base of the final headwall.  I’m blown away that I can now look down at Basecamp.  It has been 21 days since I last left it and it feels great to see it, even though it is just a speck, 4500feet below.  All the snow under the tent has gone and none can be seen around it for 100feet.  The view is breathtaking.  It really gives us a sense that this episode in our lives is drawing to a close.

Mark leads out the final 300feet traverse with Jeff simuling  and me belaying them both.  On the most perfect day of our entire stay in the fjord, we summit.  Once on top we snap obligatory shots, lie around and try to savour our achievement.  

I begin to drift into a deep dream as the adventure we have just endured washes over me like a warm sea.  Hours of agony pass by and everything is peace.  But I begin to be aware of a slight distraction, a constant sound.  The forgotten humming of snowmobiles enters my dreams.  As one we realise our weeks of total isolation have been broken.  We tear open the Base Camp fly to find three dark specs on the ice heading our way.   The last piece of the puzzle is falling into place.  We are going home and nothing in the world is going to stop us!

BAFFIN ISLAND LOGISTICS

Location: Baffin, the World’s fifth largest island is located deep within the Canadian Arctic. Formerly part of the Northwest  Territories, since 1992 it is part of the new Inuit Territory of Nunavut.  No roads connect Baffin Island’s 9 tiny villages, and all approaches to climbs are by foot, boat, snowmobile , or dog sled depending on the season.  The island has an arctic climate, and the major climbing areas are all north of the Arctic Circle.

Inuits and the Environment: The Inuit people are a culture in transition.  When you sit and talk, 35 year olds will describe how they spent their early years living in igloos or canvas tents, running with the wild life, feeding off caribou, seal meat and whale.  Yet they operate hi-tech computers, and send messages by fax or Email just as easily as any Westerner.  They have grown up on the land and so have developed unique senses of sight, smell and memory retention.  They can navigate for hundreds of miles without any form of compass, they can shoot seals you cannot even see, and they survive daily in an environment that is the most inhospitable on the planet.  Their bodies are naturally adapted to the cold; they eat and crave meat and fat, and will often go a whole week with only one bowel motion because of the efficiencies of their bodies.  Characteristically they do not live long.  50 is a very good age for an Inuit, conferring the title of Elder, once attained.  Inuit tales of survival are legendary but a story last year captured all our imaginations.  A four man team from Wyoming had hired Jushua Illuaq to pick them up after a crossing of the Barnes Ice Cap in late summer. Only a few kilometres off shore  a bowhead whale capsized the small vessel and all went swimming.  The 4 Americans died within an hour, but Jushua survived 12 hours in the sea, swam ashore and spent a further 2 days crawling back to civilisation.   The Inuit people are the toughest you will ever meet. 

If you go to Baffin respect their ways and their land.  The island is one of the most traditional bastions of Inuit culture.  Whatever you bring to this land will be invading their way of living.  Pack out anything you bring in, including all your rubbish.  Qullikut Guides now operate a system that attempts to stop littering necessitating a garbage bond.  Sam Ford is a popular hunting area and the Inuit often travel there.

Climbing History: Baffin’s modern mountaineering history began in 1953 with the Swiss ascent of Mount Asgard’s north summit.  Big wall climbing proper began in 1972 with Doug Scott’s team making the first ascent of Asgard’s Southwest buttress (vi, 5.9,A1).  Since then there have been numerous climbs on the island, but virtually all within the Auyuittuq National Park to the south of the island.  Ascents in the Eastern Fjord region have been comparatively few and far between.  Sometime around 1978 a British team visited Sam ford Fjord.  An Inuit man living in the fjord at the time remembers hearing them on The Turret.  In  1987 a four man Swiss team climbed two routes on The Turret and a third on a peak they called Beluga Peak which is believed to be Polar Sun Spire.  In 1992 Conrad Anker and Jon Turk climbed two multi pitch walls in Sam Ford – Kiguti Buttress and Mugs Stump Spire.  In 1995 Gagner and Lovelace climbed the South East face of Walker Citadel (4000ft, VI,A3, 5.10) and the Spaniards Ascaso, Ballester and Pepe Chaverri (see OTE interview No. ?)  climbed the North Pillar of Kiguti (3000ft.,VI, A3+, 5.10).

Climbing Potential:

Sam Ford Fjord –

Broad Peak. With the highest summit in the area, this massive formation offers mixed big walls on every flank.  It’s east face is over 6000ft high.

Tugalik. Stretching for miles, Tugalik has enough rock to keep climbers busy for years.  Difficulties include a loose approach and wet, crumbly rock.  At it’s high point the wall is over 4000ft.

Nord Eiger. Unclimbed

Kiguti. A large blank wall to the North of the main pillar offers a major aid climbing objective.

The Fin.  With steep rock and obvious features, this 2000ft. formation seems much cleaner compared to other rock in the area.

Chinese Wall. Unclimbed

Mount Kitchatna.  This beautiful mountaineering objective lies to the south of Broad Peak at the head of the glacier that spills from the icecap.  It is not visible from the fjord.

Great Cross Pillar.  The whole south buttress is seamed with lines. Plenty of sunlight, a 15 minute walk-in and good rock have got to make this wall attractive to future Arctic Wall Warriors!  Perhaps even more ambitious is the ridge to the north, a 3000ft rock ridge, capped by a 2000ft wall.

Walker Citadel. This gigantic monolith offers several mixed wall climbing objectives up to 4000ft.

Polar Sun Spire. The largest objective in the area, but its major challenge has already been snaffled!

There are many other huge walls lining many of the unexplored fjords in this region.  Two in particular that were recced during the 1996 trip include Gibbs and Clark Fjords both above Sam Ford.  The Inuit have been everywhere and Qullikut Guides can easily organise a tour for you.

Weather Windows: Travelling early around mid May  you will find the sea ice frozen and so access via snowmobiles is fast and easy. Temperatures are low, between 0 and -20 degrees centigrade.  Break-up is at the beginning of July, giving you plenty of time for more than one objective.  The frozen fjords means that you can walk between formations.  The colder temperatures mean snow instead of rain, but as the summer rolls on you will experience some sleet, and rain but mostly just fog and low lying clouds.  Wind speeds at the very most reach 70 mph.  High winds are rare.  The secret is to climb end of May/early June  and get out by the end of June.