It remains only to say a huge thank you to Future Capital Partners, Shockwave Components (the brilliant Dave Smith and Daniel), Simrad, Mako Global and M Power for their support and sponsorship and also a massive thank you to the great John Coffey for having pulled off the logistically most challenging expedition I have ever lead. You have done so so well and deserve a decent rest and break now! Well done buddy...

Here's to the next adventure!

Bear

At 130pm local time we pulled into this small remote village of Paulutuk, our end point, at the tip of Darnley Bay - and all of us are so so relieved!

What an amazing 36 hours. As we headed North West yesterday through the initial glassy seas we pulled into a small sheltered bay and discovered an abandoned USA earfly warning radar base. It was a pretty awesome sight, rows of metal buildings, built onto the rock, looking like some lunar base in the middle of nowhere. I can only imagine what you would have had to have done to get posted to this place!

We left there and as we rounded the northern tip of Dease Strait and entered the infamous Beaufort Sea we began to get hit by what was the beginning of some large beam seas, which are always the most dangerous ones for a small inflatable craft like ours. But we knew the weather would be worsening the next day.

We took a brief look at our proposed anchorage and together reckoned it would be worth going for gold and heading another 130 miles along this barren, shelter less coast to Pearce point. (Dave (Pearce) was especially excited by this!) It was make or break time for us. The sun disappeared and the prospect of being caught out at sea in the beaufort loomed. As did the gritty prospect of attempting to anchor and find shelter in the dark.

We were now being caught up in some horrible seas and in the words of Tim: "the most terrifying conditions yet!" But this is the Beaufort Sea doing what she is so famed for - wild, windy, confused seas, unforgiving and unpredictable. But the team all helmed fantastically with great skill and concentration and finally in the half dark we ducked into this tiny small cove protected on all sides by rock. It would prove the best of all the spots we have used.

I spotted a very big grizzly as we pulled in, which added a slight edge to our night, and we found big fresh spore and some giant paw prints. (Decision made on the bear watch and armed patrol!) All was good though and the bear stayed away, and at first light we left Pearce point and headed for our last leg in. As if the Beaufort Sea was reminding us never to take anything for granted, as we rounded the corner of Darnley bay, hoping for sheltered seas, we got hit by fierce winds and large cresting mixed beam and head seas. Yuck!

The team knuckled down one more time, and finally we made the RV point. We are at now anchor in 5 ft of water in a whistling wind, awaiting our supply vessel, whereupon we all intend to open a large bottle of whisky, pack our kit and prepare for a dawn flight out from this tiny dirt airstrip on the coast, in an even tinier plane. It is then time to head south and back to everything that we all love and have missed so dearly. Tina, Jane, Shara, Anita and Mrs Jones (!), we are coming home safe and sound - as promised. You, like me, have good reason to be so proud of what these guys have achieved. Mission done.

Bear and team

Its 3 AM and we are reporting in as we sit by our campfire on Bear/Boat watch. Actually, it's a laundry watch, as we are drying out tons of wet kit. It is a treat to be far enough south that there is even any driftwood to burn at a campsite. We're still 100 miles north of the tree line but for the first time we've found kindling and logs and so been able to make a little bonfire (well, thanks to Ben, it's not so little...) We've made it all the way to the mainland of the Northwest Territories and are within striking distance of completing this epic journey, so everyone is in great spirits.

Bear watch tonight is particularly relevant, since we just scared off a grizzly bear a few hours ago, who left big paw prints in the sandy shoreline and a smelly, steamy pile of dung for us as he loped off behind a hill whilst we were dropping anchor in this tiny cove. After we rowed ashore in the dinghy we followed him over the rocky hill but couldn't see him anymore, so we are confident in our location but thought it prudent to keep a shift running on alert w/shotgun for the night.

Today was a big day. We left Ross Point this morning with an ambitious goal of getting through the remainder of the Dease Straight and out into the first parts of the Beaufort Sea for the night. We were well behind schedule due to weather and needed to cover alot of water. Unlike the treachery of yesterday, we were blessed today with light winds behind us, and millpond seas for several hours.  We stopped and a small chain of islands that probably haven't been visited by anyone but a few birds and some antelope during the frozen months. We climbed to the summit of the largest island, claiming ascent of the unclimbed peak. 

After lunch we set off for the rest of the day's journey.150 miles to cover. That seemed ambitious given the difficulty we had covering just 65 or so yesterday. By 4 PM we were only 10 miles away from the protected bay that we'd chosen on the charts. But seas were building from behind us, slowing our progress and causing us to take multiple waves over the console, filling the boat with 1 degree sea water. Forecast has been for winds to grow and seas to continue to build. And we were quickly reminded of why the Beaufort Sea has a reputation. It is very unfriendly water. 

Quick pause. Team consultation. Brigadier Grylls took charge of the discussion (he's been terrific expedition leader for sure). A few of us were very cold and tired (us two in particular). But we made a unanimous decision. Stopping now would put us in jeopardy as we'd have to cover another 200 miles tomorrow, with potentially bigger swells and the wrath of the Beaufort to deal with for the entire leg.  We decided to press on, knowing that this unprotected coastline had no decent anchorages for another 100 miles. 

And so we pushed forward. Dave Pearce fought his way through the swell for hours. Tim Levy ran navigation allowing us to hug the shoreline when needed. And we put behind us another 160 miles before reaching our new goal of Pearce Point (named previously, but kindly, for our chief medic and comedian). This puts us only 15 miles from the top of Darnley Bay, and only 50 miles from Paulatuk which is the end of our journey. We sat 'round the mess hall tonight (a few rocks strategically placed to buffet the wind) reflecting on how blessed we have been on this trip. Favor has surrounded us.  There was the occasional bad joke mixed in, and one or two tasteless but funny ex-commando stories from the boys. But we all feel lucky. It has been a life-changer for everyone.

Tomorrow we hope and expect to write with good news of our successful completion of the FCP Northwest Passage RIB expedition.

Ben J and Dave S

P.S. from Dave S.  - Ben Jones has recovered from yesterday's blow.   He's stuck with the expedition.  He got back in the saddle today and helmed the closing leg of our 310 mile segment.    We were worried about his knock yesterday and thrilled that he's in good form today.  Even if for no other reason than that we need his engineering skills!

We left Cambridge Bay in mid-afternoon, and took time out to motor over to the historic wreck of Amundson's third Northwest Passage ship which is mostly submerged but still visible at low tide on the Eastern shore of the harbour. We then proceeded out into the open waters of Dease Strait, and put behind us 90 nautical miles and the journey turned out to be a really special time, with dramatic skies and surprisingly tame seas. We made rendezvous with the ice breaking vessel supporting us, which has been attempting an East to West passage and has been a huge friend to our expedition in so many ways. We spent a few hours aboard, only to be confronted with building winds from the West, causing the ship to drag anchor. We were forced to set the RIB back out to sea in the pitch black of night, in winds gusting to 35 knots, whilst the ship set course for deeper waters and shelter on the northern side of the channel. After the prospect of a night at sea in stormy waters, I'm glad to report that we found safe anchorage east of the Richardson Islands. We will be on shifts through the night as we may have to set off at any time if the weather deteriorates further, but for the time being we are enjoying safe haven and enjoying a display of Northern Lights.

Tomorrow the wind is expected to build, and forecast shows 40 kph gusting to 60 kph from the northwest, which will make for some very wet, slammy and hard travel. But then the weather is forecast to clear, and we hope the sun should pop through the clouds in 24 hours. We have set a goal to get to the appropriately named Camping Island by tomorrow evening where we can drop anchor, set camp and dry out our kit by the fire, if we can find some driftwood, which is surprisingly hard to come by.

We spend many hours talking about friends and family and longing for home, and we all feel truly privileged to be able to participate in this voyage. Our team has really come together as the warmest of friends. I know so many people have been praying for God's favour on this expedition.  Bear and I were talking earlier today, and it struck us that in fact those prayers are so clearly being answered. So thank you!   

More tomorrow....

Dave S

We changed course and headed North to find him and finally located him just off the ice pack.

We brought him coffee and food and he looked pretty relieved to see us!

We fixed a tow line and started pulling him away from the ice shelf towards clearer water where the wind could blow him West along the ice edge rather than back into it.

It took us several hours but finally we had him clear.

He was very worried for his dog though who had not been ashore for some time so we offered to take the dog with us to Cambridge bay our next stop. He was again very happy! What a nice man and what a privilege it is always to witness and to share such great camaraderie between people who are out together in the middle of nowhere. I love that feeling so much.

We took his dog and waved him off but the challenge for us was that the rescue left us critically low on fuel.

We skirted the ice shelf and slowed our speed and did quite a bit of praying and mental mathematics of fuel ratios! Well done Tim on that one!

Finally we made it into Cambridge bay at last after quite a substantial sea - it has been very windy and the skies had grown very dark and menacing. There was also a lot of ice suddenly all around the approach to the bay which means we have had to be very vigilant.

With the port in sight though I couldn't resist getting out the wakeboard and waterskiing the last mile into town through the ice - Baltic cold but good fun and something I promised my boys that I would do! Tick!

Now we have refuelled and drunk a lot of tea. Time to head on west....

P.S. the dog is safe in port with someone awaiting Matthew's arrival in four days time, God willing!

Bear

So when we sheltered from the north wind behind this wind swept and truly bleak little outcrop of rock in an unchartered channel of sea, little did I realise what we would find.

What was unique about this place was that the channel that accesses it is so shallow, which in turn means that any bigger vessel coming down here would be almost bound to run aground. But you wouldn't know that when you look at this strait. It heads south and is big and wide.

This reason no vessels go down here nowadays is that the only chartered waterway through the north west passage runs further to the east in the deeper water.

So when we discovered the human remains, the fire blackened rocks, the mast shaped wood, the stone circles of possible camps, and bone carved sewing needles, you can imagine the excitement I felt in the pit of my stomach. Is this possibly a clue as to where the fated Franklin expedition passed by and what might have befallen his lost crew and ship.

So here is the case: if you are starving and out of food, and men are dying around you, and your only hope of salvation is to be rescued, you would surely burn the wood from your stricken ice beaten ship in a last ditch attempt to get spotted and to stay warm - at least until you run out of all food supplies.

I don't know the full answers - we are now currently at sea some 200 miles further along the north west passage, but what I do know is that we were in unchartered waters and that we stumbled upon some dramatically compelling clues that point to the presence of desperate men from Western culture. (Again, where would Inuit find such vast supplies of wood in a landscape bereft of trees, and why are there human bones and western looking graves and large fire blackened stones on a small rocky outcrop in the middle of nowhere, in the area of the passage that Franklin was known to have gone missing?)

Here in 2010 it is exciting, to the bottom of my own bones, to know that exploration is still alive and mysteries are still out there to be solved....

Tomorrow we continue on further into our journey...

Bear

--------------------

Bear Grylls North West Passage Expedition unearths possible clues of the mystery of Franklin's lost expedition...

Franklin's doomed mission to find the Northwest Passage between 1845 and 1848 ended in terrible pain, suffering and deprivation, as three ferocious winters took their toll on men, materials and supplies. In the end Franklin set off with a small group of men, trying to head south, attempting to escape the grip of their frigid jail. Neither of his vessels, the Erebus or the Terror, has ever been found (despite multiple search expeditions, including one currently underway).

Today, for us, the mystery of whether we had accidentally stumbled on the last desperate days, weeks or months of their miserable demise deepened. Our tiny island, no more than a couple of acres, and inaccessible to all but the smallest craft today, bore signs of large fires on the Northern side - abutting the Wellington Straight (where Franklin was known to have passed through) - as well as pins made of whale bone,  together with human remains. To build a fire on the Northern side made little sense, given the direction of the wind, save if it was being used as some form of signalling beacon. Perhaps their vessel had become beached in the narrows of the Straight and, in despair, and out of food, they finally resorted to burning their only method of travel - their only hope of escape.

After such an eventful overnight, the remainder of our day progressed smoothly, moving further south to Gjoa Haven on King William Island at a latitude of 68 degrees North. Our arrival and requests for fuel supplies caused chaos as Bear was besieged by old and young alike wanting to ask him a million questions about his "Man Vs Wild" exploits. Throughout this remote region, peopled by the hardiest humans imaginable, their knowledge of Bear and his show, and their admiration for his peculiar preference of cuisine, has been universal! Thanks to everyone for helping us get shipshape and fuelling us for our next leg to Cambridge Bay.

Gjoa Haven is well known as the site of the Amundsen museum, celebrating the achievements of the famous Norwegian with the first successful crossing of the Northwest Passage. I wonder what he would say if he could see the day when it might be undertaken in a 11 metre open RIB at 40 knots pushing through the ice!!! Times have certainly changed.

Tim Levy & Dave Segel

Today our goal was to reach a small island group in the uncharted waters off the coast of King William Island. We figure not many boats have come through this area at all, and certainly none could have come down the shallow narrows we navigated. After 170 miles of travel, and 8 hours at sea, we worked our way into some shelter from the strong North winds by anchoring behind a desolate, barren island. This island of stone and dirt sits about 8 meters high at its peak, and perhaps 200 yards in diameter. It's a nowhere. No vegetation. No nothing. We've named this island Jonesy Island, after our Welsh marine engineer and crew member Ben Jones. We named it Jonesy Island for a reason.

We rowed to shore and set up our bivvies, and propped the dinghy up as a windbreak so we could hide behind it whilst we ate our meal. As Dave P boiled more supper in a bag, Jonesy came back from his reccie with surprising news, he'd found signs of previous visitors on the other side of the island. We all ran up to see the evidence. There we found the rocky outline of a grave set by some stranded visitor long ago. And at the grave, we saw bones. And a small piece of felt or fabric. And then as we looked there was another grave. And another, and a fourth. Ben is a hero, he's a discoverer. Could this group of travellers be from Franklin's expedition perhaps? They were thought to be in the King William Island area after abandoning their ship. Jonesy had uncovered history?

The sun had gone down but we had to know more so we walked the perimeter of the island under moonlight in search of clues. Bear found what looks like part of a mast blown up on shore. Dave P found more graves, and stones arranged like perhaps settlers had built canvas tents and held them down with heavy rocks. And we found more bones. Human bones we suspect.

Then, a great surprise, as we are walking just near the camp, Bear kicks a rock by accident, but it doesn't sound like a rock. It sounds hollow. Oh my. Bear picks up a human skull!  Ancient, almost petrified, but well preserved. What a strange thing. Who was this person?

So here we sit late at night on this scary forlorn island where people who visit seem to perish. I am on night duty, shotgun and bearspray near-by, making sure we don't have unwanted visitors in the night, and also keeping a close eye on the RIB to react quickly if it starts to drag on the anchor. It affords me a little chance to send you these notes and reflect on our Wednesday. Actually Wednesday doesn't mean much to us here on Arctic time...

All are tucked into sleeping bags and going to sleep. Tomorrow we want to resume our archaeological work and attempt to piece together the tale of the lost souls on Jonesy Island.

Dave Segel & team

Interesting Aziz told us that when he arrived in 1978 - and until the mid 1980's - the Harbour was completely frozen over the entire year and an ice breaker would be sent in in July to break up the ice. Since then, however, the period without solid sea ice has got longer and longer - and from a time where nothing but snow would fall, its now not uncommon for Resolute to have rain between July and mid September. Certainly something is changing dramatically - albeit rather too late for Franklin and the other British Explorers of bygone eras!

Having had to pick our way into Resolute yesterday, we were amazed that the sea ice had entirely been swept away by the wind and tides overnight and we had a clear passage into the Barrow Straight where we encountered our first really serious ocean conditions. Dave Segel helmed the boat with consummate skill, taking some seriously steep, narrow pitched waves and yet keeping the rest of us, and the boat, in one piece! The boat really came alive in his hands and we are all in awe of Dave Smith's work in producing what must be, by some distance, the world's most exceptional RIB. Gradually the waves relented and we enjoyed the last couple of hours in today's 190 mile leg in calm seas driving southwards into the sun and (slightly) warmer waters. The crew is working brilliantly as a team - enjoying a life changing experience - and having a blast at the same time.

Tim Levy

Ok we have made it to Resolute Bay!

Been an amazing day of fighting our way through the thick sea ice and fog for the first time!

We left Beechey Island in calm seas and almost immediately ran into a pretty substantial beam sea and Tim helmed so well through this.

We made it across the sound and the huge cliffs loomed out of the sea and mist with the sun finding a small gap in the clouds to illuminate the land and guide us through.

We stopped briefly at the long line of deep sea ice and had a cup of tea to take stock and ready ourselves for the next phase and our first real time in amongst it all...

as soon as we started moving it became a game of chess to weave our way through the maze of floating ice. We were at a crawl with Ben helming, Dave on the roof with the binos and Tim on the foredeck with the boathook pushing the ice left or right to make a path.

We finally pushed through on one engine with the other engines raised to avoid damaging all of them if we had an 'incident!'

Eventually we found a clear-ish channel of smaller ice and could open it up and pray! The hull pushed the little bits of ice aside and we were soon flying around the edge of the ice pack heading for Resolute.

Finally we had to turn north back into the sea ice and weave once more towards Resolute.

Then suddenly the ice opened and out of the dense fog we could see the natural harbour of Resolute Bay the most northerly point in the Passage.

We refuelled on the shingle shore, dropped anchor and are now holed up in building sorting kit out and readying ourselves for a 6am departure where we now head south into Peel Sound and this is where it will get even more interesting!

Well done my team- legends one and all!

Bear

-------------

All,

We've had an epic day. We encountered big seas and gloomy fog across the Wellington Channel, only to break out of the fog and discover a wall of ice in front of us as far as we could see, covering 70%-80% of the sea surface.

With patience and a little raw power from the throttles here and there we pushed ice out of the way and snaked our way through to open water an hour or two later. 

After 15 more miles of 20%-40% ice we found Resolute Bay in the advection fog.  What an achievement! Resolute is one of the furthest outposts in the Arctic, and the must-pass-thru location for anyone attempting to reach the North Pole from Canada. Excitement and relief both.

We drove the RIB up on the beach and coaxed our scheduled petrol truck down to the water so we could run 2000 L of fuel into our 8 tanks. We swapped out propellers, bled the air on the shock mitigation system, and then put the RIB out to anchor so we could sleep under a roof on land for a night.

Summary is, we're having a blast. Trip of a lifetime. Lots of joking and laughing, and then the occasional very serious moment which keeps us on alert all the time. Everyone is in great spirits.

The entire team is terrific. Support and logistics people have been tireless in prep and prep and more prep. They've been on constant alert.

We couldn't do this without the team on land making it all work.

Tomorrow we're departing early. Not at sunrise, because that's pretty much right after sunset. We've got our longest day yet in front of us, and all we know for certain is that there is a large ice field just outside of Resolute Bay that I can see from the window of our motel. But we're rested and ready for it.
 
Dave Segel

All

Broke camp early. Set for Beechey Island. Historical sight where Franklin buried of three casualties of his expedition in search of the Passage 250 years ago.

We powered along the Devon Island coastline at 41 knots, 74.5 degrees North of the equator, with seals and whales and birdlife all around.

Glaciers poured ice into the sea. "Bergie" water (floating with sea ice) required everyone to be on alert.  Fog rolled in from the left, then closed from behind, then loomed in front.

Late in the day and several hours late, we made our rendezvous with the support vessel. Tonight is for repairs and prep for our journey to Resolute tomorrow. 

+ Forecast sea state: not known.
+ Ice condition: variable - clear to 9/10+ coverage.
+ Conditions in the high arctic can worsen rapidly.

We have every confidence that our RIB can deliver all that we need, but this journey isn't going to be that simple.

We have been fortunate so far. Keep praying for us.

Bear and team