“You really want to sail in harm’s way,” Stenseth said, displaying the flag with uncertainty.

“It’s only for the freighter’s benefit. Let them think we’re part of Canada’s Arctic ice patrol. They’ll be less likely to question us hanging on their flank for a few hours.”

Stenseth looked from Pitt to Dahlgren, then shook his head. “Remind me never to get on the wrong side of a shooting war with you guys.”

Then he promptly ordered the flag run up the mast.

With the maple leaf rippling overhead in a stiff westerly breeze, the Narwhal drew alongside the Korean freighter and matched lurches in the wallowing sea. Together they sailed through the short night and into a bleak gray dawn. On the bridge, Pitt kept a tense vigil with Stenseth, spelling the helmsman while Giordino appeared every hour with mugs of strong coffee. Holding the research ship in the freighter’s shadow through the turbulent waters proved to be a taxing job. Though the freighter was a hundred feet longer than the Narwhal, the distance between the two vessels made for a narrower shadow path. Dahlgren’s computer program proved to be a godsend, and Stenseth happily agreed to increase his beer debt with each hour they advanced undetected.

When the vessels reached due north of Bathurst, the men on the bridge froze when a call suddenly came over the radio.

“All stations, this is Coast Guard Bathurst calling vessel at position 70.8590 North, 128.4082 West. Please identify yourself and your destination.”

Nobody breathed until the Korean ship responded with its name and destination, Kugluktuk. After the Coast Guard acknowledged the freighter, the men fell silent again, praying there would be no second radio call. Five minutes passed, then ten, and still the radio remained silent. When twenty minutes slipped by without a call, the crew began to relax. They sailed for three more hours glued to the side of the freighter before passing well clear of the radar station without detection. When the Narwhal reached a bend in the Amundsen Gulf that put Bathurst out of the line of sight, the captain increased speed to twenty knots and zipped past the lumbering freighter.

The Korean ship’s captain studied the turquoise ship with the maple leaf flag fluttering overhead as it steamed by. Training his binoculars on the Narwhal’s bridge, he was surprised to see the crew laughing and waving in his direction. The captain simply shrugged his shoulders in confusion. “ Too long in the Arctic,” he muttered to himself, then resumed plotting his course to Kugluktuk.

“Well done, Captain,” Pitt said.

“I guess there’s no turning back now,” Stenseth replied.

“What’s our ETA to King William Island?” Giordino asked.

“We’ve just over four hundred miles to go, or about twenty-two hours through these seas, assuming the lousy weather hangs with us. And we don’t encounter any picketboats.”

“That’s the least of your problems, Captain,” Pitt said.