Day 5 - Thursday July 28

There’s nothing more exhausting than motion sickness. Well, actually, there probably is. But when you are hit with it, it can seem like the most exhausting thing in the world. It saps you of energy, ends all higher brain function and generally incapacitates you.

I first experienced it in 2009 on Expedition #1. Not wanting to experience it 2010, I took to some good old fashioned drugs to counteract it, in the form of seasick patches. See any picture of me from that year to observe said patches. But they worked!!

So for 2011, I knew to be prepared, and stocked up on a good number of those little wonders. As soon as I arrived on ship, one of them came out and immediately made its home behind my right ear. Night one passed uneventfully for me, although sadly not for some of the students. Right on cue, as the waves hit the Clipper Adventurer, teenagers started a-swooning.

Before long, seasick bags were being whipped out and many yaks were spotted throughout the ship. Luckily, the effect wasn’t to last very long, as we pulled into a fjord called Isafjörður, our final official stop in Iceland, on the very northern tip.

It was here that we made our very first landing and cruise with zodiacs. Our resident bird expert, Garry Donaldson, led groups up to the top of some cliffs where hundreds of thousands of birds made their homes at this time of the year. The highlight of the trek was the viewing of an Arctic fox as it snuck down one of the cliffs to grab one of the unsuspecting birds for a meal.

Of course, I saw none of this. As usual, the trek was through some very treacherous and uphill terrain. Most of the group had no trouble scrambling up through the spongy tundra and jumbled rocks to make it to the top. I got about 1/3 of the way, and decided that I shouldn’t push myself. After all, there will be LOTS of other hikes.

It was at that point, I came across two students, Beatrice Yueng from Hong Kong and Yashvi Shah from Niagara Falls. Both were honest in admitting to me that they were out of their element and were having trouble keeping up with the main group. I encouraged them to do as I planned – go as far as we can, as fast as we can, and hold our heads high that we accomplished what we did. With mutual encouragement, we kept going to the point where a fog started to roll in, and we got a surreal view of our vantage point along the side of this fjord.

It wasn’t the top of the cliffs, and there was no Arctic fox in sight. But for the three of us, we felt on top of the world that we had made it to this point, and happily took pictures of ourselves from our lofty perch. It’s one of the few times that I realized that “good enough” really was good enough.

And then we realized we were only halfway on the hike. For you see, as far up as we had gone, we still had to return the same distance BACK to the zodiacs. The only advantage was that it was mostly downhill. Although that just means burning different muscles. So with a sigh, we set off for the coastline and the zodiacs. Of course, it started raining. And despite our best efforts to stick to the original path, we ended up going through the thickest, soggiest tundra we could stumble across. It’s quite unnerving to step onto what appears to be a normal patch of ground, only to sink three feet into the spongy terrain. It was exhausting and by the time we reached the zodiacs, we were ready for a nap.

But a cruise around the fjord was in the works first, and we were treated to beautiful views of the bird cliffs, some seals and lots and lots of puffins. Despite our exhaustion, it was a great sight and we excitedly snapped photos and pointed every direction at the sights to see. In the distance however, was something I didn’t want to see – white caps on waves being whipped up by some strong winds. It meant more seasickness, and I wondered if my patch would hold.

It did, sort of.

After lunch, we said goodbye to Iceland for the last time and turned out to the Denmark Strait for our next destination, Greenland. But right on schedule, the ship began rocking back and forth and before long, staff and students were flat on their backs. The Horizontal Club had been called to order, and I as its charter member was there to greet it.

Did I feel as bad as 2009? No. Did I feel great? No. I think a lot of it had to do with tiredness, and so at about 2:30 in the afternoon I collapsed in my bunk for some shut-eye. And that’s about all I remember. I do recall getting up to see if I needed to do bed checks, only to discover that all but a handful of students were still up. I also discovered I missed prime rib for dinner that night. Sigh. Stupid seasickness.

Not sure what tomorrow will bring as it’s going to be a full day at sea. Geoff says the weather conditions will improve, but I’ve learned better than to rely just on that. Hopefully it will get better.

Photo by Lee Narraway