For almost a week, we cruise along the north coast of Canada. We pass through Amundsen Gulf, along Dolphin and Union Strait, across Coronation Gulf and up Dease Strait. We set off early each morning and anchor in the late afternoon. I spend most of the cruising time reading, keeping a journal and taking photographs for our school project. Annabel mostly reads and takes notes on her library of Franklin books. She tells me the interesting bits to put in my journal, so I’ll look smart without having to work for it.
After we anchor each day, we explore using the Zodiac or kayaks. We’ve seen seals, walruses, countless birds and the occasional caribou. We have passed and been passed by several other boats, but the landscape is so vast and empty here that after only a few minutes’ walk inland, you feel like the only people in the world.
“Here we are, at the heart of the Franklin mystery,” I say. Annabel and I are on the deck of the Arctic Spray, watching the sunrise and enjoying a breakfast of eggs Benedict, pancakes and orange juice. The mornings are getting colder, and today there’s a skim of frost on the ship’s rail. We’re wearing our warm jackets to keep out the chill wind. Yesterday we sailed across Queen Maud Gulf and are now anchored off a cluster of low islands. “How are you enjoying the cruise so far?”
Annabel finishes her last mouthful and says, “Life on board ship is okay. The food is amazing, and everything is comfortable. But the company could be better.”
“I know what you mean,” I say. We’ve hardly seen Rob and Terry since we left Sachs Harbour. They only appear at meals, and then they scuttle off before anyone can talk to them. “I suppose they’re working on their research.”
“If their research can be done in their cabins, they could have stayed home. I expected that they’d be off taking readings and collecting samples at every opportunity.”
“Maybe the area they’re going to study is later in the cruise,” I suggest.
“Maybe,” Annabel says. “Billy and Martha are nice enough.”
“Yeah,” I agree, “but they seem to think that the best part of a cruise is sitting on deck dozing.”
“And their only topic of conversation is how much better all the other cruises they’ve been on were.”
“That’s not fair,” I say. “Martha can also complain that there are no onshore tours.”
“And Billy keeps telling Moira that it would be a good idea to bring weapons along to kill any game we see.”
“I’m sure Moira thinks that’s an excellent idea,” I say, and we both laugh. “If she asks me one more time how I’m doing, or if I need anything, I’ll scream.”
“Her relentless cheerfulness is a bit hard to take. I don’t think we’re cruise people,” says Annabel.
We sit in silence, watching the rising sun paint a bank of clouds to the north vivid shades of pink and orange. The islands are dark silhouettes against the bright sky. “Do you think the Erebus is nearby?” I ask.
“It must be,” Annabel says. “It’s in Queen Maud Gulf, and Jim said it was a few miles off some low islands.”
“Do you think the answer to the mystery is on one of those islands?”
“Could be, but which one? They all look the same from here.”
“I know that people have been searching for the answer to the Franklin mystery for 170 years,” I say, “but I can’t help hoping that we’ll find something.”
“It might not be as unlikely as you think,” Annabel says. “For those 170 years, most people believed that the ships were crushed in 1848 and that everyone died on a hopeless trek down the coast of King William Island. The discovery of the Erebus and Jim’s stories suggest that at least one ship wasn’t crushed and that not everyone died in 1848.”
“So?” I ask when Annabel doesn’t say any more.
“People search where they expect to find something,” she says.
“So they wouldn’t have searched near where the Erebus was discovered.”
“Not as thoroughly as along the shores of King William Island,” Annabel points out. “There are dozens of island over there. Any one of them could be the one that Jim’s ancestors were on.”
“It’d be so cool to find something. I dream of finding an old musket, an officer’s sword or skulls.”
“I dream of finding a piece of paper. A last message telling us what happened. Trouble is, finding anything would be horribly frustrating.”
“How so?”
“Because we couldn’t touch it. We’d have to leave everything exactly as we found it for the archaeologists to work on.”
“I suppose so,” I say, “but it would still be cool.”
“Good morning, you two.” Moira’s voice intrudes from behind us. “How are you doing? Anything you need?”
I choke back a laugh.
“Good morning, Moira,” Annabel says. “I don’t think we need anything at the moment. We’ve just had a lovely breakfast.”
“Excellent,” Moira says, and I cough loudly. “We’ll be anchored here for the day. What are your plans?”
“I thought we were heading up to King William Island today,” Annabel says.
“That was the plan,” Moira says, her smile firmly fixed in place. “However, there are reports of ice drifting down the coast of King William Island, and the captain wants to avoid it. You may have noticed that the wind has changed.”
“Yes,” Annabel says. “It’s from the north and a bit colder.”
“There’s a storm over the Arctic Ocean,” Moira explains. “It won’t affect us, but it’s pushing broken ice in odd directions. Best to be careful.”
“Absolutely,” Annabel agrees. “We don’t want to end up like Franklin’s men.”
Moira doesn’t find this funny. “Enigma Tours takes the safety of our passengers very seriously. We would never put anyone in harm’s way.”
“Of course not,” Annabel backtracks. “I didn’t mean to suggest that. Could Sam and I go exploring some of those islands if the Arctic Spray’s not going anywhere today?”
“I don’t see why not. I’ll organize the Zodiac to take you over.”
“We could take the kayaks,” I suggest. “They’re short enough to fit in the Zodiac.”
Moira looks uncertain. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. I wouldn’t want you going off to different islands.”
“We’d just use the kayaks to explore the coast of the closest island,” Annabel says. “It’s easier than walking.”
“I suppose that would be all right. I’ll tell the chef to make some sandwiches and flasks of tea. Be sure and dress warm.”
I resist the temptation to say, “Thanks, Mom,” and nod. Moira hurries off.
“Do you know what?” I ask.
“What?”
“It’s going to be an excellent day.”