Westworld Saskatchewan

Summer 2015

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(opposite) liz bryan, gl archive/all canada photos s u m m e r 2 0 1 5 | w E S t w o R l D 29 The saga of the many epic and tragic jour- neys to find the Northwest Passage helped define my vision of Canada – a country of heroic proportions, in spirit as well as size. It stretches wide along the populated south but continues just as far north into the Arctic, whose vastness is still very much unknown, frozen but fragile, the stuff of dreams. I always hoped that one day I could travel through Canada's polar labyrinth to chart my own passage of discovery. And I am doing it now, a comfortable cruise through the same anguished waterways the explorers sailed, but unlike the three Franklin seamen and the rest of the explorers who perished here, I will be coming home. e timing of my adventure is perfect. I was sure 2014 would be the year when the ships of the long-lost Franklin expedition would be found. And just one September day before our ship, the RV Akademik Sergey Vavilov, is to sail out from Cambridge Bay, the well-preserved wreck of the HMS Erebus is found below the ice-filled waters of Queen Maud Gulf. e search vessels had been forced by thick ice and storms south from their intended search positions, and the Erebus is found more by serendipity than by design. Because of political protocol, the news and amazing images are not released to the world until two days later, when we are at sea. Our cruise, we later learn, passed very close to the underwater site as we headed to Jenny Lind Island to look for snow geese and muskoxen. e announcement of the Franklin discovery is made during the daily pre-supper gathering in the lounge. A triumphant thunderous clapping fills the room. I almost expect a breakout of God Save the Queen – it was after all a British ship that had been found – but later we all sing Stan Rogers's famous Northwest Passage shanty, and mine aren't the only tears. It's true then, we are here to celebrate the triumph of the find – after 170 years of not knowing the fate of the ship. e Franklin find is an incredible beginning to an incredible journey, the very best Arctic experience I could ever hope for. We will thread our way through the pack ice of Victoria Strait, tracking the Northwest Passage up the west side of King William Island and the Boothia Peninsula, September 2014 S o very small. In this huge expanse of snow and gravel, overlooked by brooding cliffs and facing a cold black Arctic sea, the graves of the three young sailors from the Franklin expedition, and one from an 1853 search ship, lie unutterably forlorn. e morning's brief flurry has drifted against the wooden markers and a bleak sun lights up the names of the dead. It is surely a beautiful place, but how can photographs begin to capture its emotional impact? If spirits linger here, do they know that they are part of a glorious history? And that strangers will come in ships to visit their graves? Have they heard that just a few days ago, one of Franklin's ships was found? I whisper the news and hope they are glad. Cold comfort.

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