For the Manitoba Chamber Orchestra, David Raphael Scott
is aboard the icebreaker
Amundsen for a chilly week with his muse. Photos and notes from the North
will be posted here
as received. MCO has commissioned a new work from the composer based on these
experiences
and his perceptions of the High Arctic and the situation of the Inuvialuit.
Scott left for Inuvik on May 14th and was flown from there
to the icebreaker Amundsen.
Scott remarked, “It's a once-in-a-lifetime experience to go on a trip
like this and I’m really thrilled
to have the opportunity to document it through the creation of music. It’s
a great honour
to be part of the Artists on Board project.”
May 23, 2008
Life on the boat has become quite routine, there have been some developments. Discussion at meals has drifted off the topic of science and into other areas. Thanks to "Bar Night" every other evening, I've even gotten marginally more proficient at darts. The environment beyond the boat continues to be a source of fascination--moving through evolving weather patterns, constantly changing seascapes, and making unusual wildlife observations (yesterday, a Falcon perched in a convenient spot on the tower).
Another development is that my cruise has been extended somewhat. Our original schedule had us leaving the Amundsen on Thursday, but — due to mechanical troubles with the plane — this plan has been revised. We will now travel on Saturday by helicopter to Sachs Harbour (on Banks Island), then take the newly-repaired plane to Inuvik. From there it's commercial flights back home.
This operation has to be carefully coordinated--there's a journalist who has to get on board, a team needing to do a beluga survey while the chartered plane is available, and two artists (me included) who need to get off the boat. If this new plan is delayed somehow, the possibility of being marooned on the ship for another week is quite real. The ship is scheduled to move further West into the Beaufort Sea in a couple of days. If we're not off by the time the ship moves again, we will quickly be out of helicopter flying range to Banks Island. As exciting as this trip is, I'm hoping for good flying weather on Saturday.
May 21, 2008
Wednesday was an interesting day on board. We spent about half the day traveling, then plowed our way into a very large ice floe and deposited about 15 scientists on the ice. They took sled-loads of gear and the “skippy” — an odd looking flat-bottomed vessel that can go on ice and water — and set out to do sampling. The Amundsen then backed out of the ice and moved into open water for the rest of the day. This allowed ice-people and water-people to work at the same time in different locations. The ice crew was always within eyesight and stayed out for about 8 hours.
This all seemed quite normal to everyone on board. After all, some of the scientists spend weeks on end at ice-camps—literally, camping on the ice working with no direct contact and only rudimentary amenities. To me, it was quite incredible to think that people are simply left alone in the middle of this vast expanse. The feeling of seeing the ship back away must be unsettling indeed!
I can honestly say that I am probably the least busy person on this ship. The scientists — students and researchers alike — are working almost all the time. Schedules can be altered because of time constraints in the ship’s movements — this can quickly change routines. On Wednesday, for example, the samples collected during the day had to be processed overnight: many of the students spent the night in their labs. The ship’s crew is also a very busy group of people. From the engine room to the bridge, there’s activity 24 hours a day. It seems like everything is cleaned everyday and even the planning and preparation of meals alone must be a daunting task. I’m getting a true sense of what is meant by the term 'ship shape.' Despite the frantic pace of people’s worklife (except mine, of course), everyone is cheerful, helpful and friendly.
May 20, 2008
My cabin is on the lowest level of the boat and I sleep against the outside starboard wall near the bow. This puts me relatively close to the surface of the water and at the business-end of the ice breaking. So, when we started plowing into the ice at 6:00 AM on Tuesday, I experienced the monumental grinding and scraping at very close quarters. A unique wake up call! We had entered the Prince of Wales Strait and were working our way into the heavy seasonal ice that clogs that passage.
By about 8:00 AM the Amundsen was locked in the ice, the helicopter was in the air and the snowmobiles were buzzing around. The visibility was quite bad and polar bear tracks had been spotted--everyone was asked to stay close to the ship and be extra cautious. The ice scientists spent the day on the ice sampling, the others worked on board.
I spent the day working on some musical sketches and drifting around the boat. I also walked in circles on the helicopter pad for about an hour to get some exercise. I think I’ll try skipping tomorrow. We had a great many seals congregate in the break in the ice behind the boat. They played in the narrow passage of open water all day long. In the afternoon it was warm enough for me to sit on deck and do some more work.
Our daily science meetings are often very interesting. Weather conditions can change the location of drifting ice sheets quite quickly so the scientists use daily satellite images to keep track of how the ocean looks. Seeing the area on this scale is fascinating — it really gives me a sense of the vastness of just our small corner of the Arctic.
Our plan after the day of sampling on the ice was to leave the Prince of Wales Strait and go around the Western coast of Banks Island. Before we could get underway though, a small group had to travel to a previously established ice camp and pick up some remaining fuel barrels. The visibility was bad and the helicopter couldn’t fly safely. A party of people set out on snowmobiles at about 8:00 PM to retrieve the fuel cache. I saw them disappear into the vast expanse of blowing snow on their three-hour expedition.
At about 11:00 PM I heard the crane lifting the snowmobiles onto the deck — I knew they were back safely. At 2:00 AM we broke out of the ice and headed into open water for the next leg of the journey.
19 May 2008
On Sunday, we left Franklin Harbour and headed North. It was quite spectacular breaking our way out of the ice and into open water. For the really thick, solid ice, the ship rides up on the surface and cracks it by sheer weight from above. You can follow the cracks as they radiate out from the bow. A couple of times the ship gradually slowed to a halt. At these points we had to reverse and take another run at the ice. Once we were out of the fast ice, we navigated through soft spots and out into Amundsen Gulf. Moving through this solid icescape was like being transported to a completely different world. The ship had been inert and static since I boarded, now it displayed immense strength and dynamism.
Sunday dinner is a special occasion on the ship. We had ostrich, duck and veal along with a bottle of wine we purchased for the occasion. This fancy meal is a very nice way to break up the time and also gives everyone a chance to get a little civilized. After dinner I went up onto the deck and was lucky enough to see whales. There were at least 4 individuals and a couple of these were so close I could see markings on their backs. It’s stunning to see these creatures in their own environment. At about 8:00 PM we cut the engines and just drifted for the night.
I was up on deck at 2:00 AM on Monday and saw the sun over Banks Island. It was just above the horizon but still fully visible: that’s as low as it gets in the sky at this time of year.
The routines will change now that we’re on open water. Those studying ice and algae are processing the samples collected in the last few days. The "water people” are out in Zodiacs or hanging over the side in cages collecting samples. Some of the scientists on board ask me what I’m “looking for” as a composer. The natural assumption is that I would be trying to imitate the sounds I encounter—the wind, the ship’s mechanical operations, etc. I try to explain (with limited success) that the “data” I’m collecting for my music is mainly in the form of my own experience of natural phenomena—the subtle change of light over the ice as the day progresses; the breaking of the ice surface and the refreezing that occurs in the ship’s wake, even the enormity of emptiness, etc. I’ve also been working on some text—the most concrete aspect of this experience, for now at least. I’ve sketched out some of these ideas but it takes a great deal of time for things to take a definitive shape. I suppose this is analogous to the work being done by the scientists: results of work done today will not be realized for a long time after the material is gathered and “processed.”
May 18, 2008
We’ve been locked in the ice in Franklin Bay for the past few days.
There’s a lot of activity among scientific personnel — going onto the ice to collect data, doing surveys, etc. Every group of people that ventures out onto the ice is accompanied by a polar bear gunner and all movements on and off the ship must be cleared with the bridge. Life on board is quite comfortable; meals are very good and strictly timed, bar night is every other day, and routines are carefully adhered to. Daily scientific meetings give everyone the opportunity to discuss their work and make suggestions for the schedule of travel and data collection. It’s a very pristine environment comprised, for the most part, of ice and sky. Despite the general sameness of the physical environment, it tends to be remarkably variable as the light changes gradually over the course of the day. The midnight sky is very light (there’s no darkness at this time of year) but has a different quality than at other times… hard to explain and a little eerie! We’ve seen quite a few seals hanging around and even a curious Arctic Fox strolling by.
I have set myself up in the crew’s lounge with visual artist George Gartrell. It’s a nice place to work that also provides a welcome break from our small cabins. I have been sleeping really well despite the lack of darkness. The constant background hum of the ship idling may contribute to this.
Today we’re heading out into open water. That means we’ll be breaking through the ice and heading out into the Amundsen Gulf. We’ll do some sampling in open water and then head north to the Prince of Wales Strait. I’m really looking forward to getting moving… breaking through ice is said to be spectacular.
MCO's 2008/09 season is sponsored
by The Great-West Life Assurance
Company.
Support has been received from Media sponsors The
Winnipeg Free Press, CBC
Radio One 990,
CBC
Radio Two 98.3, Golden
West Radio & Shaw
Cable. MCO's Chamber Chatter newsletter
is sponsored by PricewaterhouseCoopers.
Heartstrings gala
sponsor: Mackenzie
Financial Corporation.
© 2008 Manitoba Chamber Orchestra