No skiing today, but we have nevertheless been on the move. The Arctic ice sheet beneath us is being pushed steadily Westwards by the strong winds, at a speed of about 3 km per day. It's a pity that this `free ride´ is not carrying us Northwards towards the Pole. Admittedly we did come here to ski, but it would have been nice to think that, even as we sipped hot cocoa inside our tents, we'd still be getting closer to the ultimate goal.
Yesterday evening we threw a birthday party for Henkku (alias Captain Haddock). Organizing parties is a routine familiar to us, well practiced on previous expeditions. We emptied all superfluous gear from the largest of our tents (Hilleberg Kero 4 GT). Then we filled the tent with a stove, seven mugs, stuff for making Rum Toddies, seven men, and large amounts of cheerful good spirit. There was plenty of chatter and resounding song. We unanimously concluded that, as far as partying is concerned, this Expedition is second to none. Challenges are welcome, of course, but the winner is a foregone conclusion.
This morning we slept in, but when we awoke it was stiflingly hot inside the tents. The outside temperature had risen during the night to – 18 C, and the sun warmed the fabric of the tents. Then we opened our sleeping bags, and the temperature went up even further. Usually, there accrues overnight a coating of frost on the tent ceiling, accumulating from the moisture of our breath. This frost now fell like snow onto our sleeping bags, and began to melt.
The day was spent gathering strength in mind and body, and servicing our gear. The list of chores: repairing ski-poles; re-gluing strips of fur onto the bottoms of our skis (Ed: for grip on the snow); servicing electronics gear; adjusting pulkha harnesses; miscellaneous sewing; as well as airing and drying our gear to get rid of accumulated frost and ice. In the preparation phase of the Expedition, we allowed for general wear-and-tear to our equipment, and thus we have with us a selection of spare gear and repair kits. In addition, many chores are preemptive: we try to spot equipment damage before it becomes a problem, thus avoiding unnecessary interruptions to the next 10-day skiing stint.
Already this early in spring, the sun remains high enough in the sky to enable the solar panel to charge the batteries of our communications gear. This enhances our ability to read your incoming messages, so keep them coming, please. Unfortunately, though, we are so short of time in the evenings that we are unable to answer all of your questions. Do not be offended, therefore, if you have not yet received a reply.
The exception proves the rule, so here is the answer to one frequently asked question: Where does our drinking water come from? The answer is simple: Snow. We can't use seawater: it's too salty. Also the Arctic ice is too salty, and difficult to get melted. Pulling water with us on our sledges is also not possible. It takes a lot of time and fuel to produce enough water from snow, but there is no alternative. Each tent team uses 1.5 man hours in the morning, and 2 man hours in the evening, merely to melt enough snow for drinking and cooking water.
When you add to this the time needed for pitching and striking camp, eating, sleeping and most importantly, for skiing, you can imagine that our days are pretty full. At this stage of the Expedition, we use 11 hours per day for skiing, including breaks.
Tomorrow, the trek continues. Hopefully, we shall soon be clear of the pack-ice in the zone offshore from the continental coastline.
Today is Friday, so here is a Poem. Even Finnish Vagabonds do it, you know. This Poem is especially for those of you who have commented on our slow progress towards the Pole.
`With peeling Nose and broken Ski,
Crawl into Tent on bended Knee.
Arctic trekking's a Slow Job,
So stop your fretting, You Yob!´
(Ed: OK! So this was a crude translation. But so was the Finnish original!)
All is well with the Expedition.