Tag: simon salter

Reykjavík

We had a day in Reykjavík . The Fram was extraordinarily busy disgorging passengers, collecting fresh ones, bunkering fuel, and loading victuals. We, on the other hand, needed to do a little shopping but otherwise had an empty day. Diane’s birthday was fast approaching so a helicopter trip seemed in order. She has always been excited by helicopters and, as we discovered, a flight in Iceland is something special. With a little help from Jón, our friend in Reykjavík , we booked a trip. The weather was perfect and ideal for the half-hour stroll from the harbour to the airport. We even managed to get the necessary shopping done on the way.

Our captain was the incredibly cool Solveig and our aircraft was a six seater Airbus H125. I do not know anything much about helicopters, so I looked this up. We shared the trip with a very pleasant American couple who were visiting from one of the big cruise ships. We compared notes about sharing a vessel with 6,000 passengers as against the 200 onboard little Fram. We walked out to the helicopter, settled in and, after a very short brief, took off. First, we flew south towards the coast. Reykjavík looked very neat and tidy from the air. I caught a brief glimpse of the Fram in the distance. Then we were flying over part of the great divide. The line where Iceland is pulling apart at a few millimetres each year. From our vantage point we could clearly see the fault lines and volcanoes. As Solveig explain, in Iceland, if it looks like a volcano, then it probably is. I asked about living with volcanoes and the possibility that your house might suddenly get destroyed. Solveig said that people just get used to it. Apparently, whenever there is a new eruption, everyone packs up their trucks, not in preparation for escape but to drive out and get a good look at it. We also passed over some oddly coloured lakes and a massive steam vent.

Reaching the coast, we flew along the cliff edge for a while and then turned inland along the the Reykjanes Peninsula. Iceland is an extraordinary country. There is so much volcanic activity that the ground seems alive. From our viewpoint we could see many volcanic cones (if it looks like a volcano, it probably is a volcano) and vents emitting sulphurous steam. Solveig took us in to land at what appeared to be a small car park right next to one of these cones that was dotted with fumaroles venting steam. Closer inspection revealed that we had genuinely landed on a small car parking area – an ideal place to park your helicopter. I did notice that Solveig followed standard car park protocol in carefully locking the doors of the vehicle before we left. A short climb got us to the crater rim for a round of photographs then back to our aircraft. I could not help thinking that this was an incredibly cool way to explore volcanoes.

Geothermal power station

We flew over the Blue Lagoon, a man-made geothermal spa. The water is a byproduct from the nearby geothermal power plant Svartsengi. Superheated water is vented from the ground near a lava flow and used to run turbines that generate electricity. After going through the turbines, the steam and hot water passes through a heat exchanger to provide heat for a municipal water heating system. Then the water, rich in salts and algae is fed into the lagoon. A remarkably high silica content accounts for the milky blue colour and forms a soft white mud on the bottom of the pool. Bathers like to wallow, hippopotamus like, in the pool while smearing the mud liberally about themselves.

Then we circled round the new volcano a couple of times. The cooling craters of Litli-Hrútur are the newest landscape of Iceland. The area, known as the Fagradalsfjall volcano, has erupted three times since 2021 and remains a top attraction in Iceland’s southwest corner. The broad valley where all recent activity has occurred is completely uninhabited and considered very dangerous. New erupting fissures and craters can open up anywhere without any notice. However, it is only 35 km from Reykjavík and glow was visible from Iceland’s capital. Litli-Hrútur was still emitting lava, smoke and steam when we first arrived in Iceland. Sadly, for us, it stopped while we were exploring the fjords of eastern in Greenland. None the less it was still fascinating. You could clearly see where the fresh lava had flowed to merge with slightly older rock and fumaroles were everywhere. Brand new rock was laid out underneath in complex swirls and patterns. We looped past one of the earlier calderas., a fearsome looking carbuncle of cooling lava and vents, then turned for home. I could very happily spend days flying around an incredible country like Iceland and I would strongly recommend a flight. But be warned, this is Iceland, so the cost is fearsome. Even our short trip cost around €1,000.

Blue Lagoon

We calmed down a little on our walk back to the harbour. Although even when we stopped for a beer all we talked about was how fantastic the flight had been. Eventually we arrived back at the Fram to a pleasant surprise. There were fewer passengers on this next leg of the trip, so we were offered a free cabin upgrade. This new cabin had a balcony. We did not hesitate for a moment and so ended a particularly good day drinking wine on our balcony as the ship set sail for West Greenland and the North-West passage.

Sirius Dog Sled Patrol

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.

Greenlandic sledge dog
Sirius base

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.

Small red boat

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.

Muskox

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.

Keiser Franz Josephs Fjord

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.