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Support Whisper Polar Expedition Spitsbergen 2009.

         South Manitou - beach, shipwreck and wounded leg

        In the afternoon we leave Leland and set sail for South Manitou Island. The wind dies quickly and Piotrek joyfully jumps into the water and... tows our 5-ton boat. However, even his yellow fins can't help much and so we turn our engine on. We drop the anchors in Manitou Bay well known for its great depth and steep bottom. Rumor has it, that there once was a ship which took cover from an upcoming storm by running its bow onto the beach. When the storm was over, the captain put the engine on reverse, pulled back and sailed away. Such a maneuver was possible only due to extraordinary depth of the Bay.

        There are five other sailboats anchoring in the Bay and two motorboats rafted side by side. What's symptomatic, while sailboats quietly rock on their anchors, the motorboats are surrounded by two screaming Zodiacs and everyone can (or rather must) appreciate Eminem's jumpy rhymes.

        In the very morning, we row our dinghy to the shore and begin an intensive sightseeing programme. We visit an old Coast Guard Station, currently working as a summer Rangers' Base and an abandonned lighthouse. A neverending, as it would seem, path through the forest finally leads us to the other side of the island. There it is: a shipwreck of Francisco Morazan - a ship that sank there in 1960 and since then has been resting in peace, temptingly close to the shore. There is just one thing between us and the wreck: a very steep sandy bank. Somehow we must get down. While everyone is thinking of the safest way, our Cap gives an example of suicidal bravery: he jumps down with "Banzai!" on his lips. He lands on a sharp rock. Despite his wound, Piotrek is still eager to see the shipwreck, not minding his "scratch", as he says.

        The shipwreck, which is now a dark habitation for seagulls, lies within 1000 feet from the shore and is easily accessible due to shallow water that surrounds it (about 7 feet). Interestingly enough, there is some sort of a groove dug in the bottom of the lake. It looks like the ship made it with its hull while running aground. As far as we know, the crew was rescued, yet we can't get rid of this grim feeling and as soon as we are done taking pictures, we are ready to get back to the shore. Our overall impressions from the beach are mediocre: it's awfully hot, smells like dead fish and with swarms of seagulls hovering overhead. We planned to see 300ft high sand dunes on the west shore of the island and Cedar forest, that is supposed to be somewhere around, but a long way home and the approaching darkness forces us to retreat.

        The Next day we are back in Leland. We say goodbye to Ryan and Katka (not for the last time, because we'll see each other in Detroit soon) and instead of a promissed promised siesta we get back to work. Some say that cruising is fixing your boat in exotic places. We don't even fix ours, we still build her. In the evening we indulge in Rod Steward's love songs in our living room. The cheapest car radio bought at the supermarket works like a charm.

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