Greenland…and 20 Days to Go

Kind of a strange afternoon, this. We’re anchored in among the Bjørne Øer, the Bear Islands, up Scoresby Sund a ways. Boogie, Marlies and one guest just took off in the dinghy to chop some ice off of an iceberg. Boy Wonder and another guest are assembling one of the high-end collapsible kayaks. The rest of the guests are milling about the cockpit, and I’m in the saloon area typing away.

We arrived here after motoring for about 19 hours. We pulled the anchor and left Constable Pynt around 3pm yesterday and made our way south the 16 miles to the beginning of the fjord that opens on to the larger sound. It was a lovely motor with clear skies and a fresh breeze in our faces — fresh enough, in fact, that if I’d been on a personal trip I’d have sailed and tacked back and forth down the fjord. But I’d have had to stop after about 13 miles: the wind had filled the mouth of the fjord with ice, not unlike what happened yesterday at Ittoqqortoormiit. Boy Wonder was again hoisted into the spreaders and he picked our path out through the floes.

After reaching Scoresby Sund, we turned right and headed west, deeper into the main fjord. The water was now open, with a handful of truly enormous icebergs scattered about in the deeper water. They were simply phenomenal creatures, these floating mountains of ice, with a temperament that changed with the light reflecting off their varied faces. And as the evening wore on, the light lowered and the shadows deepened, making for even more subtle and superb lighting.

Watches were divided into four, two-hour stints. I’m assigned to a team with two Finnish guests, a married couple, and we wiled away the 11pm-1am and 7-9am stands in idle chat, mostly about Finland. Nice people, and they were on Polar Bear here in Greenland last summer. Interestingly, the missus of the pair remarked last evening at suppertime that she was glad Marlies was aboard because last year the food was much less palatable (and in smaller quantities). And yet, they were back for more. Interesting…

Also interesting (to me) and perhaps to be filed under the category of “Euro behavior perplexing to this simple Yank” was when we were all eating lunch just today. Marlies was serving up seconds of hot dogs and the Finnish husband indicated he wasn’t interested. I dispensed second dogs to everyone and then grabbed my empty plate, Marlies put a dog on it and I slid it back onto the table. Finnish Husband slid over in front of the plate and started dressing up the dog how he liked it. Hmm. I grabbed another empty plate from one of those guests truly not interested in another helping and Marlies handed me a dog — for me. Never a word from the mister. Interesting…

Polar Bear arrived here in the Bear Islands at the northeast corner of Milne Land, an enormous (are you sensing a theme here? Everything in this land is on a scale unfathomable to the normal everyday back in Europe or the States). island within the Scoresby Sund fjord complex. We dropped the hook and drifted backwards to a pair of lines that Boy Wonder and a guest had secured ashore. Made fast to the three points, and surrounded on pretty much all sides by rocky islands, we’re in a very solid spot right now.

So Boogie and Marlies and Alison took off on their adventure, Boy Wonder is rigging up another adventure, and we’re all going to do a shore supper (cooked by Boy Wonder and I, as per Marlies’ schedule) á la Lille Molla in the Lofoten. Since polar bears are a possibility here and since we don’t have a rifle with us (yet another planning oversight by the owners), we’ll stay close by and be extra vigilant, and we’ll check any location out ahead of time.

Apart from the aforementioned, um, “interesting” behavior by the guests, this seems to be a fun, enjoyable crew. We’re truly multinational, with Brits, Finns, Scots, Germans in addition to our Dutch, British and American crew. All but the Germans and a couple of Brits are in for the duration — all the way across the sea back to the UK — so they’re up for adventure and they’re up for sailing and they’re up for pitching in to make it all work. 

And as for Greenland (or what we’ve seen of it so far), it truly is an amazing land — after a summer of amazing places. As with aspects of the Lofoten and Iceland, I recognize a lot of the beauty here from my days in Alaska, and in fact, one of the dangers I’ve had to guard against all summer has been to keep from being too jaded given the superlative nature of my Alaska homeland. I think I’ve succeeded so far, and truth be told, the scale here is big even by Alaska standards — for instance: the coast of Greenland is, yes, a lot like where Prince William Sound meets the Chugach Mountains, or the outer coast of the Kenai Peninsula…but it goes on for hundreds and hundreds of miles, from one horizon to the other — but the danger is ever present. I’ve been disappointingly surprised by the dearth of wildlife thus far, and that’s one area that Alaska has had it all over every destination we’ve been to this summer so Greenland is no different.

But I’m stoked to have made it here to this far-off corner of the globe and am looking forward to how the next week or so shakes out. Weather forecasts keep varying so one day we’re likely headed back to Iceland the middle of this week, the next day it’s looking good for us to be here until we drop a few guests off for next Saturday’s flight at Constable Pynt and then some. Then it will be on to Iceland — likely Akureyri but possibly Reykjavik or Ísafjörður, it depends on the wind direction — where we’ll drop off Alison (she’s the friend of the so-called marketing person for the boat company) and then head on to either the Shetland or Orkney islands.

What I’ll do remains to be seen, though it’s 99 percent certain I’ll stay aboard until the job’s done in the UK. Or at least: until we arrive in the UK; I’ll be damned if I’m sticking around to clean up the boat and prep it for winter after the owner’s screw job.

But the possibility of jumping ship remains. Boogie’s temperament seems to be drooping a bit; he’s not his usual jovial, gregarious self. I don’t know if he and I are wearing on each other after a long summer or if he’s just had enough of the BS with the owner and it’s coming out as frustration with everyone (Marlies included), but it can be unpleasant — and a boat (even a 72-foot-long boat) is too cramped for there to be unpleasantness among the crew.

And on top of that, I’m getting more frustrated with the experience. The lack of sailing is a huge factor there; I’m tired of motoring and simply being a bus (or glorified RV) for a bunch of tourists. Yes, we’d still be that if we were sailing, but if we were sailing a) I’d be having more fun, and b) I’d be getting more of what I expected when I signed on. But that’s not happening and it’s like just one more step that delays the inevitable plunge/decision: buy my boat or not. A lot of that decision will be based on my experience and comfort level with the vagaries of owning a boat, and I’m not getting as much experience in that area as I had hoped or expected.

There are 20 days left in this summer’s adventure. Twenty days in which to experience more of Greenland, hope for some more sailing, and then take the next step in this life. Hopefully it’s a life of more stompin’ on the terra.

Too Much of a Good Thing?

We’re now in Ittoqqortoormiit. Well, we’re in the small cove above which the colorfully painted wood houses that constitute Ittoqqortoormiit are perched. They cling to this rocky land that the world forgot. Third World? Forget it; we’re talkin’ 10th World. We are off the map here, for sure. Actually, there was cell-phone coverage in the bay so maybe it’s not so 10th World after all. But why anyone would live out here is beyond me…and I love far-out places. But this is on-the-edge living in a good year; a particularly long winter must be brutal.

We made our way in this morning, weaving for a couple of hours through ice floes of all imaginable sizes and shapes. Only a few big, proper ice bergs — and they were on the outer edge, out near the open water of Scoresby Sund — but there were plenty of boat-killing pieces of ice. Slow going, with hand signals relayed from the bow to the helmsman at the wheel.

Once in open water close to the village, we had an open-air lunch in the cockpit. The sun shone brightly from a bright, clear, blue sky, with the only clouds down over the land south of the fjord, and it was, in all seriousness, comfortably warm enough, despite the presence of ice all around us.

Following lunch, Boy Wonder, Marlies and the two guests went ashore in the dinghy for a bit of exploration. Boogie and I were going to go after they returned but while the landing party was ashore, the tide and a light breeze started moving the pack of ice into the little cove. Boogie had to keep Polar Bear moving around the western edge of the bay to keep the boat clear and the shore party were summoned back.

They returned and now we’re headed back out to Scoresby Sund. Slowly. The ice has indeed funneled into the bay that links Ittoqqortoormiit’s cove with the fjord, so Boy Wonder was hoisted into the spreaders, from which he can get the bigger picture of leads in the ice and relay directions to the helm via radio.

The ice continues to be the amazing factor in our recent experiences. The varied shapes they adopt — shapes that change based on the light, our position in relationship to the ice, the ice’s position in the water — are every bit a driver for the imagination as a sky full of puffy white clouds. One large berg recently evolved from a schnauzer puppy in a shoe to a castle out of Sleeping Beauty to a horse to a whale’s diving tail…all in the space of a few minutes.

And the underwater shapes of the ice floes, now visible with the sun shining high overhead, has been equally fascinating — but with the sinister overtones of what that below-the-waterline ice can do to unwary ships (think: Titanic). An innocuous flat pan of white ice can sport a jagged, knife-edged underwater blade that extends well out from its above-water perimeter. An unsuspecting boat might pass too near the floe and into peril, but with the overhead sun the cold-blue protrusion glows and winks as a natural work of art visible to the boat steering just out of the danger zone.

Not that we were in any real danger. Polar Bear’s steel hull can handle most of the ice in this bay. Even the really serious underwater lances would likely just bounce and groan and push Polar Bear in opposition of the force exerted by the boat’s motion. But there are a handful of major-league icebergs that we would have had to give wide berth to — as did the 125-foot steel tourist cruise ship that left shortly after we arrived in Ittoqqortoormiit, leaving as the tide ushered the thickening ice back in behind it.

It’s not like we would have gotten stuck in that thickening ice if we hadn’t left a little while ago…at least not for too long. But better safe than sorry. And we have no idea what’s going on ice- and weather-wise one fjord over to the west, the fjord where the Constable Pynt airport and our rendezvous with our final set of guests for the season will take place tomorrow.

We’ll be losing our two current guests — the friends of Boogie and Marlies who’ve been wonderful this trip, cooking magnificent meals (often) and being generally very cool. Here’s hoping the 10 who take their places are equally as cool.