Tag: diane salter

Our last port of call, in western Greenland, was Ilulissat. Third city of Greenland. With a population of just 4,500, there are almost as many sledge dogs here as people. The harbour area is quite small, so the Fram anchored off and we were ferried ashore on the RHIBs. No bus tour, but there was a shuttle service up to a visitor centre. Ilulissat is the most popular tourist destination in Greenland. These days it is tourism, not fishing, that is the town’s principle industry. Part of the attraction is the nearby Ilulissat Icefjord. This is a spectacular fjord into which calve enormous icebergs from Sermeq Kujalleq, the most productive glacier in the northern hemisphere. This is one of the few glaciers where the Greenland icecap directly reaches the sea, and it is moving fast. Up to 40 m per day. Listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site, it is described as a dramatic and awe-inspiring natural phenomenon. Seemed like it might be worth a look.

The bus took us through the main town and out past another dog town to the Ilulissat visitor centre. We chose to save the centre for later and went off for a walk. A wooden walkway helps in crossing a boggy area on the way to the coast at the outlet of the fjord. I think there must be some sort of bar at the exit because many icebergs were jammed here. This makes the rest of the brash fill the fjord in a very spectacular and satisfying way. Despite being 250 km north of the Arctic Circle, it was quite a warm and sunny day. Perfect for a hike. We could make a loop by walking back along the rocky side of the fjord then cutting over a hill back to the visitor centre. It was a slow walk with many stops to gaze across the constantly moving ice. If we stopped for more than a couple of minutes the mosquitoes found us.

We walked for three hours or so, but I think, if you had the time, there must be days of fabulous hiking around here. The visitor centre is an interesting building shaped like the wingspan of a snowy owl when it is in flight, apparently. There are numerous displays about how people have lived in the area, the geological history of the glacier and how studying the ice is helping develop the current scientific understanding of anthropogenic climate change. Visitors are required to remove their boots before entering. It is possible to walk across the roof which gives some nice views. We poked around for a little while and then hopped on the shuttle back to the ship. In the evening we sailed out into the fabulously named Disko Bay where I glimpsed a whale. Then it was north past Disko Island and finally west across Baffin Bay to Canada and the entrance to the North West Passage.

Overnight we sailed 320 km further north. We crossed the arctic circle and arrived in Greenland’s second city, Sisimiut. Population 5,500. Sisimiut means “the people living in a place where there are fox dens”. Originally established to support the whaling industry, fishing is now the principal industry in Sisimiut. Shrimps, salmon, halibut and cod. The Royal Greenland fish processing plant at the port is the largest within Greenland and is amongst the most modern shrimp-shelling factories in the world. 20,000 tonnes of shrimp a year. The city is very striking. Brightly painted houses and a busy port all surrounded by picturesque mountains.

Once again, we set off on a bus tour but this time the trip proved to be much more interesting. There were dogs. First, we looked at a local bronze of a fisherman catching a fish. A few shops of interest were pointed out. Then we got to the dogs. Lots of dogs. About a thousand of them all living in an area well outside the main conurbation know locally as “Dog Town”. There is only one type of dog in Greenland, the Greenlandic Sledge Dog. Other breeds are not allowed and dogs that ever leave Greenland are not allowed back. The dogs live outside, year-round, in an assortment of kennels and shelters. Each dog owner has a designated area in Dog Town and it is strictly forbidden to interfere with dogs that are not your own. Fortunately, our guide explained, she had her own dogs so we could go to see them. She had about a dozen dogs. These were used for pulling sledges in the winter. Greenlandic Sledge Dogs are big strong animals with a thick, insulating fur. They can sleep outside quite comfortably even when the temperature is well below freezing. In the summer they can easily overheat so mostly they just laze around. Fortunately, everyone on our small tour was much more interested in dogs than shops and schools so we spent quite a while with them. Also, there were puppies. One pair were several weeks old. The other two were just a few days old so their eyes had not opened yet.

Eventually we had to leave the dogs and got dropped off by a museum not far from the port. Diane and I stuck our head in a couple of the buildings but did not find much of interest. We are not good museum people. Instead, we wandered back to the Fram. Our coats were shedding dog fur for several days and probably carried a canine whiff with them, but we did not mind.

Further up the western coast of Greenland we approached the little town of Paamiut. Population 1,300, it is the tenth largest settlement in Greenland. We sailed straight past Paamiut and up the fjord to the east. Here was another magnificent glacier emptying directly into the sea. Also, there was a chance to go ashore. As usual, the expedition team landed first to check for polar bears and set up the armed guards. Then we got ferried ashore in the RHIBs. At the start of the voyage, we were allocated to a boat group. The order in which boat groups go ashore is rotated. This time we were in the last RHIB to land. A short walk up the hillside brought us to a fabulous viewpoint. Mountains, glaciers and the fjord. Someone saw an arctic fox earlier, but it was long gone by the time we got there. Superficially, these landings can seem like a lot of effort for a short walk. For me, they are completely worth the trouble just to stand on such a remote place as Greenland. To take in some of the terrific and rare sights. Just a short walk but a special one.

Next day we arrived in Nuuk. The population, 19,600, is about a third the entire population of Greenland. Nuuk is the capital city. There are a few roads but none of them go anywhere outside the city. The Nuummioq (citizens of Nuuk) are well served for education with a university and several other establishments of higher learning. There is also a good healthcare provision and a cultural centre.

We began our visit with a tour on a bus. This did not take very long. We stopped outside the Royal Greenland fish processing plant, a major source of income derived from an awful lot of frozen shrimp. We also looked at the university and a large graveyard where the locals like to be buried with a view. Finally, we were dropped off at the city cultural centre for a short presentation. A couple of songs, some drum dancing, and ten minutes of crazy mask dancing later we queued to taste some local delicacies. Dried fish high on the menu along with a few other things that did not bear close inspection. Diane and I slipped out of the queue and took a wander round the shopping centre instead. The sky was getting dark and ominous as we took the bus back to the harbour and rejoined the Fram.

We spent the night and the following day sailing north towards Greenland. I amused myself by trying to photograph the sea birds following us. These are Northen Fulmars, they have a reputation for flying after ships. Everything I read suggests that they are opportunistic feeders hoping to find something tasty from the vessel. However, watching them swoop, glide, dive and generally mess around behind us, I could not help feeling that they were just having a good time. Photographing them was tricky because they move so fast. Fortunately, I had time to take many, many out of focus pictures and then throw most of them away.

In the morning we had arrived at Prince Christian Sound, gateway to a series of magnificent fjords in the very southernmost tip of Greenland. The sound is 100 km long and narrow, just 500m wide in places. Steep, bare rock walls rise up to 2,000 m above it. Several glaciers calve directly into the fjord and numerous waterfalls cascade down the precipitous cliffs. We got the RHIBs out to have a closer look at one of the glaciers. I always find it fascinating to peer into the dark blue recesses and caves in a glacier. Not too close though. These glaciers are quite active, towers of ice regularly collapse into the water and would be extremely dangerous to a small boat. There were many small ice bergs and lumps of ice floating around and this gave us an idea. After a bit of messing around we managed to retrieve a piece of ice from the water and took it back to the ship with us.

RHIB trips done, we pushed on through the sound. Diane tested the ice and found it to be pure, fresh water. Perfect. We left it in a bucket and hoped it would not melt too quickly. Much of the rest of the day was spent on deck, camera at the ready, watching cliffs, glaciers and waterfalls drift past. Quite remarkably there is a settlement here, called Aappilattoq, where the tough people live off hunting and fishing. The handful of colourful houses nestle on bare rock underneath a steep and forbidding mountain. Access by land is probably quite impossible. We spotted a small helipad but even so it is an incredibly isolated outpost.

I set up a small time-lapse camera to capture part of the passage.

As we reached the far end of the fjord the mist arrived. The Fram was enveloped in a thickening fog. Fortunately, this did not seem to upset the navigation at all, but it did mean there was very little more to see on deck. We retreated inside, collected our piece of glacier ice, and headed for the bar. Here, the very obliging barman mixed a gin and tonic for using our carefully collected ice. Apparently it was very hard and difficult to break. It did however make and excellent cocktail and seemed a very appropriate way to end the day.

Siriuspatruljen (the Sirius Patrol) is an elite Danish naval unit that conducts long-range reconnaissance. Set up during the advent of the cold war in 1950, they patrol and enforce Danish sovereignty in NE Greenland. Soldiers patrol in pairs, using dog sleds. They travel independently for months at a time in the winter and cover a combined distance of 20,000 km. Volunteers sign up for this duty but need to satisfy a gruelling qualifying course before the elite, few, are chosen. These are properly hard men and are truly maintaining the Viking spirit. Women are allowed to apply – but so far nobody has. The name, Sirius, comes from the main star in the Canis Major constellation, also known as the Dog Star. Ironically, although Sirius is the brightest star in the night sky and is visible across most of the world, it is not visible at latitudes above 73°N – the location of the patrol’s main operational area.

We landed at their base but did not encounter any active Sirius solders. Instead, we had a pleasant walk up a hill to a view over the next fjord. We also saw a few dogs tied up outside but were warned to give them a wide berth. On the way back from our stroll we met a couple of “old dog men” as they introduced themselves to us. They had sailed up to the base in a small red boat just as they had been doing for years since they retired. We chatted a little about the old times and they reflected that this was probably their last trip up here.

By early afternoon everyone was back onboard, and we set sail for Reykjavik. There was no rush. We still had a long and spectacular trip back out along the fjord. Plenty of time to take in more of the austere rocky magnificence of the awesome cliffs and powerful glaciers. At the mouth of one wide valley that opened into the main fjord we spotted muskox. The name derives from the strong odour emitted by males during the seasonal rut. However, despite the name, muskox are more closely related to sheep or goats rather than oxen. Big, hairy things, they are up to 1.5 m at the withers and weigh up to 400 kg. Native to Greenland and Arctic Canada, they are well equipped for the conditions with thick, dark hair overlaying a lighter layer called qiviut that is prized for its softness and insulation value. Sadly, we could only see them from what seemed to be a great distance. Even with my best camera lens the animals can only be discerned as little dark blobs.

Approaching the entrance to open water we came across drifting sea ice. Although well broken up, this was still thick and dense in places. Possibly strong enough to cause the Fram a few problems. We slowed right down and worked our way forward using the excellent manoeuvrability of the ship to dance round the larger icefloes and bergy bits. The sunset provided a perfect backdrop to the scene, and we enjoyed some spectacular dusk views while sitting out on deck with a glass of wine.

Next day we made our way serenely down the coast of Greenland. The captain kept a course close to the coast in case we might sight anything. All was peaceful on the Fram so we got to have a tour of the bridge. I could, at this stage, go off on a rant about the terrible state of digital chart systems in the over-regulated marine world. However, I could see that nothing much has changed, and I got bored of this rant fifteen or more years ago. Suffice it to say that the bridge was loaded with official, type approved navigation displays that were largely being ignored in favour of a small, cheap system designed for yachts. Diane got to sit in the captain’s chair. Late afternoon, the tannoy barked into life to announce polar bears. This was true but, again, they were far, far away. So, try as I might, I could only add little white blobs to my collection of animal pictures. That evening there was a little party in the bar. The following day we crossed the Denmark Straight ready to arrive back in Reyjavik early the next morning.

Northeast Greenland National Park is the world’s largest national park and largest terrestrial protected area in the world. At almost a million square kilometres it covers the whole of the top, righthand part of Greenland. Nobody permanently lives there. Typically, the wintering population, a mix of scientists and military, amounts to about thirty people. We had permission to visit a small part of the park.

Two days later, early in the morning, we sailed into Keiser Franz Josephs Fjord. The sky was dark and overcast. Fog clung to the mountains. The steep, dark and imposing fjord walls loomed over us. The place was dead. Usually, at sea, there is always some life around you. Sea birds, especially near land, things swimming in the water, occasionally animals on land. Here there was nothing. The land was steep, rocky, barren and almost lifeless. Just the occasional patches of rough grass and stunted plants. There was not a bird to be seen and the water remained still, dark, and deep. All felt a bit sinister. We stopped a couple of kilometres short of the snout of the massive Waltershausen Glacier. This is fed directly from the main Greenland ice sheet and is around 10 km wide.

The Fram has a Dynamic Positioning (DP) system. This keeps the vessel on station without needing to tie up or drop the anchor. It is rather clever while being extremely easy to use. Once the ship is in the required position and orientation, the skipper presses a button, and she simply stays there. Under the covers is a sophisticated process that monitors the ships position and orientation then uses the bow thrusters and azimuth pods to keep her there. This is an enormous benefit and allows the Fram to stop and deploy the RHIBs from a position that might be impossible to maintain otherwise. In front of the glacier the bottom is several hundreds of metres deep, far too deep to use an anchor. Elsewhere, it means that the seabed is not damaged unnecessarily. In the RHIBs we could get right up close to the glacier and see some of the very dark, old ice formed deep inside – ice that is possibly hundreds of years old.

In the afternoon we went for a walk. This is Greenland, it is not so simple to just go for a walk. First the “Expedition Team” go ashore and secure the area. They check for polar bears and set up sentries. They also unload a great pile of survival gear, food, shelter, and water, just in case we inadvertently get stuck ashore for a while. Then we can be ferried ashore by RHIB in small groups. One of the conditions of visiting the national park is that only a few people can go ashore at a time. We all keep our life jackets on in case we need to return to the boats in a hurry. This time, we also slapped on extra mosquito repellent. It was a pleasant walk and nice to get off the ship for a while. We climbed a small hill to take in a view of some lakes and the surrounding area. That done, and in the spirit of all great expeditions, we headed back to the Fram for diner, a glass of wine, and an early night. Next morning, we would find out about the Sirius dog patrol.