An important part of the Ocean Change expeditions is interacting with the local people. We have so far visited Inuit in their homeland on the coast of Labrador five times. Fish always plays a special role in these visits. Whether at the subpolar northern tip of Labrador or at its southern tip (which, incidentally, is at the same latitude as Hamburg): it’s
it all starts with fish. As soon as we’re moored, people come onto the jetty, marvel at the ship and welcome us.
And then, without fail, the same question: ‘Do you want some fish?’ Of course we do!
Sometimes it’s a fisherman who’s just filleting cod. ‘Take as much as you like,’ he’ll say. When we tentatively mention that there are nine of us, the reply is: ‘Then you’d better take 10 fillets.’ Sometimes someone comes to us with smoked, vacuum-packed Arctic char fillets; other times it’s a young fisherman who supplies us with salmon fillets. Hospitality in the form of fish. We enjoy the delicious meals that Miriam conjures up from these gifts.

Alongside these delights, work on the Dagmar Aaen takes centre stage whilst we’re in port.
A ship needs protection – especially wooden ships. This becomes even more important when a wooden ship is sailing in Arctic waters. The components are subjected to much greater stress here. Incidentally, a sailor doesn’t ‘strike’ his ship – he ‘paints’ it.

But many other components also receive care and attention. First and foremost, the radar. Off the coast of Labrador, it stopped working – the display lighting had failed. The expedition office in Bad Bramstedt was contacted via satellite phone and asked to procure a replacement bulb and send it to Labrador. It’s actually a simple component. Unfortunately, however, neither the display nor the radar unit are still in production; spare parts are no longer available, and alternatives from China would only be deliverable after many weeks.
Navigating at night and through the ice without radar is dangerous. So we have to improvise. Marie and Lukas carefully opened up the radar unit and examined it. An alternative could be fitted into the opening where the faulty bulb used to be. But what? They finally find what they’re looking for in the galley. There are LED light strips attached to the ceiling that might fit. No sooner said than done. We still have a spare LED strip on board. It can be cut to size and fits perfectly into the opening. The power supply is also improvised and everything is screwed together. Then comes the big moment. What happens when we switch on the radar? It works!! There’s huge joy on board; the radar is operational again.

Improvisation is a regular part of life on board an expedition ship.

Meanwhile, in the galley, Miri has switched off the stove. Our Dikson diesel stove is an absolutely reliable and frugal companion, running 24 hours a day, day and night. It’s not just a hob and oven, but also heats the midship.
Once it has cooled down, the cast-iron hob – which measures almost a square metre – is carefully cleaned and oiled. Ash residue is removed from the flue, and now we can cook and heat the ship again.

Meanwhile, Matze – our ship’s carpenter – has cut to size, sanded, fitted and painted a bracket for a fish chopping board. This means that when filleting fish (and there’s certainly plenty of that on this voyage), the smell stays on deck.

Up in the rig, Mika and Marie have replaced a leather lining so that the jib halyard block doesn’t chafe against the fairlead. Or, in non-sailor’s terms: a strip of leather to protect against chafing. There’s always something to do…
Thomas & Matze

Position: 55.607497, -60.320435