We’re down to just one or two meals a day. And those are filled with grit. Eating less is actually a survival strategy of sorts, because none of us want to leave the tent for any reason, let alone for pulling down our pants. The wind continues unabated. From our protected nook it is not too bad, especially since we have now dried out from the rain that pounded us throughout last night. But down below, where Mike and Bryce have set up their tent, the wind is more variable. Mike, on one of his rare visits up to our camp describes it as “periods of calm and then it is like someone comes by and beats the tent with a baseball bat.” Turns out his rare visits had less to do with who we have become and more to do with physics. Tents are less likely to blow away if someone is sitting inside.
Who have we become? Semi somnambulant creatures sleeping 16 hours a day or more — deep dreamy sleep — and people who write haikus about the wind. How long will this continue? This morning, talk turned to emergency rescue. How does it work? How hurt do we have to be? In reality, getting out of here in any other way than our planned route would be an incredibly difficult and cost prohibitive operation. But also, in reality, all we need is one good day to paddle to the closest place a Twin Otter can land, a day that in any other year would be a normal day.
We have ten days left on this trip, and for lots of reasons we are hoping for good weather – it is close to impossible to film in these conditions. Locked in our tents, we can only wait and hope that the pack ice that has blown away from shore will stay far away until we can escape our aerie.