Classic_Boat_2016-01

‘

Making cocktails

with iceberg lumps

is a not-to-be-

missed activity’

GREENLAND VOYAGE

varnished saloon table. We were screwing together a new

bed in the lazarette as our four guests got out of their

taxi, but having shown them around, we were relieved to

fi nd that they were relaxed and made very few demands

other than to be supplied with an intravenous fl ow of

Earl Grey tea. Having been teased about my English

tea-drinking habits by the crew thus far, I was delighted

to have some compatriots. Crates of biscuits were heaved

aboard and we motored out of Nuuk, heading north.

A high pressure system sits over Greenland for most

of the summer, forcing

depressions south and resulting

in fair weather, but light wind,

which means heavy use of the

Iron Topsail. Meanwhile

katabatic wind and the funnelling

effect of the fjords combine to

make for interesting sailing.

Thick fog is also common and

can make navigating through

icebergs a worrying experience.

We entered Evighedsfjord, (‘everlasting fjord’),

nervously making our way towards our fi rst glacier, until

the growlers became too thick in the water, at which

point we broadsided it with binoculars and cameras, and

picked up a few chunks for drinks. Making cocktails with

iceberg lumps is a not-to-be-missed activity in Greenland

and we spent an inordinate amount of time hanging

various crew over the side with hammers and buckets.

Having ticked ‘glacier’ off our list, we dropped the

anchor for the night in a protected bay at the mouth of

the fjord, and in the morning went ashore. From the top

of a nearby hill, the view was impressive, but not as

impressive as the sheer quantity and size of the

mosquitoes that plagued us on the way up. There

are few land mammals in Greenland, so what these

brutes normally eat is a mystery, but they were thriving.

Onwards we sailed – or motored – into calm seas and

blue skies, tracing a pencil line up the west coast. We

took inshore routes where possible, winding between

beautiful islands and through fjord systems, watching

breathtaking snow-capped mountains glide by on either

side, and avoiding an increasing number of icebergs. We

scratched our heads over our charts, on which there were

many unsurveyed areas, and sometimes just one narrow

line of soundings to follow.

Humpback whales often kept us

company, waving their enormous

fl uked tails before diving into the

murky depths of the fjords.

As we continued north the nights

got shorter, until we crossed the

Arctic circle with the midnight sun

shining, a shot of local liquor in

hand and a toast to the Inuit spirits

of the sea. From here on, the sun would not set at all.

We stopped in various tiny harbours, often mooring

against shaky fuel docks, with barely enough depth and

little space to manoeuvre. We were regarded with

suspicion and surprise at fi rst, and then always with

kindness and hospitality.

We encountered huskies, seals, polar bear skins, and

hundreds of fi sh hanging on washing lines to dry. And

everywhere we went, our Antiguan shipwright Gino had

to put up with the awe of kids and adults who had

Clockwise from

top left: Growlers

made navigation

tricky at times; a

lonely coastline;

another iceberg

meets the

paparazzi;

humpback

whales were a

common sight