The Arctic Grail

is the extremely appropriate title of the book I'm reading about the search for the Northwest passage, with lots of being trapped in frozen ships with salt pork, burning the decks for fuel, contempt and pity for Eskimos who are usually saving the Explorers' rears, and a fine measure of fortitude, drinking, daring, foolhardiness, breathtaking ego, claming large pennisulas and naming them after a brand of Gin (Boothia!) and dysfunctional transoceanic relationships. (We can only thank god that the age of exploration largely ended before the age of ubiquitous marketing. Shiver.)

Part of this is background for a possible actual Arctic journey/ projecy I've been tossing about for awhile that is begining to get some traction, through contacts from UW, CPW and the Alaska Native Arts Foundation, to wit:

An Arctic of the Mind: Climate Change, Art, and The Transformation of the Arctic in the Imagination

Synopsis: As atmospheric warming transforms the Arctic regions and the experiences of those living in them, it resculpts the very idea of what the Arctic is. This project supports artistic research towards a touring international "circumpolar" show of artwork, exploring themes of transformation in the arctic driven by accelerating climate change. Tapping indigenous artists working in a contemporary vein and other artists working with arctic themes, the project will also build artist relationships with the science community, between artists and international curators, and create opportunities for artists to physically experience the Arctic as a primary source.

There is the real possibility of getting some funding from the National Science Foundation, which is very interested in "synthesis," as arctic science has come to make clear that reductionism only gets you so far. Some arctic art projects have happened, but scattershot, a bit postcardy, and not really focused on more aggressive contemporary techniques.

All this got me thinking about things of speculative concern to Our Laird. One is that reading about all these people trapped on ships for three or four consecutive winters in the Arctic made me sad that these explorers had no role playing games! How much stark raving madness might have been prevented and replaced with adaptive fantasy? (It's interesting to read of happy ships, which cultivated good relations with the Natives, what, and invariably organized theater, and unhappy ones, which tended to eat their frozen lead-poisoned comrades.) Imagine this conversation:

Well, that's the last of the meat-biscuit. It's blubber for tomorrow, lads, but buck up, the sun will be up in a mere 40 days, and then we'll dig out a 8 foot trench around the ship as we discussed to refit her - I tell you artlessly that if we pull together, she shall float again! Now then, Billings, I believe you were being attacked by a Balrog. Are you defending with the plus ten mace or the Spell of Binding?

Sound of a force-10 howler above, a harmonica, and two dice hitting an oaken deck.

This boils down to a word of encouraging interest - if you were still inclined to guide the late 19th century adventure by means as necessary.

A re-starting point - a history and photos of the "Bear", Capt. Mike Healy's Dundee Revenue cutter from the 1880's , provided thoughtfully by the Mill Valley Freemasons. Amazingly, the Bear lasted all the way to the early 60's, even having served in WWII.