Stunt Story: If We Weren’t on a Russian Spy Ship, We Would Have Died
September 2017: I’m boarding a plane with the cast and crew to shoot a movie in Greenland. Our destination: Disco Bay—a magical slice of the Arctic known for its towering icebergs, pristine waters, and, if you’re lucky, the elusive narwhal. While Greenland sounded like the ultimate dream, our journey would take a turn so wild, it bordered on a Hollywood thriller.
The entire cast and crew took over the plane, turning the cabin into a buzzing cocktail of excitement and chaos. Coming straight from Pittsburgh, we were itching to swap steel factories for icy horizons. After landing, a bus took us to a bay where our next transport awaited: a zodiac boat. But this wasn’t just any boat trip; it was a warm-up for the main event: boarding a real, functioning Russian spy ship. You read that right.
As we jumped aboard with our gear, I couldn’t help but laugh at the spy equipment next to our camera gear. Cameras, sure—but next to literal spy gear? It felt like we’d stumbled into a Cold War reenactment. The crew was Russian. The language? Only Russian. Our captain announced (via translation) that it would be a 24-hour voyage to Disco Bay. So far, so good.
The Calm Before the Storm
At 4 a.m. the next day, I was up before everyone else. Alone on the deck, surrounded by Russians and a sun that refused to sleep for long, I soaked in the surreal beauty. Massive icebergs glided by, some the size of strip malls, others like floating neighborhoods. It was otherworldly, peaceful, and utterly humbling.
When the rest of the crew woke up, we hit the ground running. Or paddling, in my case. I was doubling for Cate Blanchett—my second time—so my “stunt” was to kayak around icebergs, day after day. Easy enough, right?
The crew piled onto zodiacs rigged with cameras dangling inches above the icy water. Cate jumped into her kayak like a pro, with a safety team tailing nearby. Just as she reached a particularly picturesque iceberg, it happened: a massive calving event. A piece of the iceberg cracked and crashed into the sea with a thunderous roar. The safety team said witnessing this was rare, but on this shoot, nothing was ordinary. We had whales coming to check out “the scene” near our zodiacs. The sunset view from “my stunt” was nothing short of an out of body experience. This was a job of a lifetime.
In the evenings, the crew would lay on the top deck looking up into the sky where the aurora borealis gave the most spectacular end of the day show. I was truly living the dream.
We were supposed to spend a week in Disco Bay. But on the third day, close to wrapping for the day, an announcement came over the intercom in Russian from the Captain: “A Category 1 hurricane is heading straight for us. We must leave immediately.”
Cue: adrenaline.
Within an hour, we packed up and began the 24-hour trip back to the fjord. At first, the waves were manageable, though ominous swells hinted at what was coming. About an hour in, one of the safety guides asked if I wanted to sneak onto the deck to “ride the waves.” Uh, YES.
The waves were already reaching 20-25 feet, and every third wave crashed over the ship, drenching us with freezing seawater that froze before smacking us in the face. The Russian spy ship handled it like a champ, but my face? Instant icicle. Naturally, I filmed the entire thing. The footage was too good to keep to myself, so I shared it. Within minutes, it went viral—onboard. Everyone demanded airdrops, and soon, we had a top deck party with a few more people. The waves grew larger, the wind wilder, and every single moment was pure excitement.
By the time the waves hit 50 feet, the captain ordered everyone inside. The party shifted to the library, where we played Scrabble while watching the storm batter the ship through bulletproof windows. The tension in the air was undeniable. We laughed, but deep down, we all knew this wasn’t just an adventure anymore—it was survival.
The 100-Foot Waves
At midnight, the hurricane caught up with us. The waves reached 100 feet, lifting the spy ship to unimaginable heights before slamming it into the water like it weighed nothing. The entire ship was engulfed. I secretly joined the safety guide on the bridge, where I had a front row taste of the storms enormity. The captain whispered something that made my stomach drop: “If this were a normal ship, we’d be at the bottom of the ocean right now.”
Exciting? Yes. Terrifying? Also yes. Suddenly, all I could think about was my 4-year-old son waiting for me back home. I needed to survive—for him.
After hours of fighting the storm, I stumbled down to the bar. Cate Blanchett and her glam squad were there, calmly hanging out as liquor bottles slid off shelves and smashed onto the floor. The vibe? Chill chaos. But even Cate’s cool couldn’t calm my growing nerves. The thought of sinking into the icy depths was too real. I forced myself to bed, praying to wake up on solid ground.
The captain had promised calm waters in a few hours, but “a few hours” stretched into eight. By morning, light filtered through the storm, and we finally reached the fjord. The waters were serene, a stark contrast to the chaos we’d endured. We emerged, bleary-eyed but alive, cracking jokes over breakfast as relief washed over us.
The Russian spy ship had saved us.
The Hollywood Ending
Back on land, the adventure wasn’t over. One of the actors shared my viral video on The Tonight Show, giving the world a glimpse of our Arctic odyssey. Even better? A clip of the storm footage from my iPhone made it into the final cut of the movie, Where’d You Go, Bernadette.
Looking back, it’s insane to think about how close we came to disaster—and how much fun we had anyway. If I learned one thing from this experience, it’s this: When life hands you hurricanes, Russian spy ships, and 100-foot waves, make sure your camera is rolling.
