It all started with a hair
Iceland – Greenland | Anno 2023
Monday 14 August | Reykjavík
Tuesday 15 August | Denmark Strait
Wednesday 16 August | Denmark Strait
Monday 14 August | Reykjavík
Unreal. Hardly a cloud mars the steel-blue sky. The sun reigns over the city as if it's the most normal thing in the world. The beautiful wooden houses on the shore of Lake Tjörnin are reflected crystal clear in the calm water. Mallards, greylag geese, seagulls, and swans are being tossed chunks of bread. The terraces of the old town are packed. In short, a beautiful spring day just like we know back home.
Only the cool breeze reminds us that we are close to the Arctic Circle
Lake Tjörnin
But that’s not the case. We are in Reykjavík, the capital of Iceland. This is one of those rare days when the country doesn’t live up to its chilly name at all. Only the cool breeze reminds us that we are close to the Arctic Circle.
In this luminous setting, the Ráðhús shines more than ever. At first glance, this postmodern construction surprises. But if you let the refined interplay of concrete, glass, and water sink in, this pale giant takes on a pleasant and warm character. By the water’s edge, it even seems as if the round pillars are lifting the city hall out of the lake.
Ráðhús
Further on in the old town lies Austurvöllur. This is supposed to be the city’s main square, but today it looks more like a peaceful green park. In the centre stands the statue of Jón Sigurðsson, Iceland's 19th-century independence hero. The Icelanders sometimes gather here when they disagree with government decisions. But on days like today, this is a place where the city's residents come to enjoy the warm rays of the summer sun.
Alþingishúsið houses one of the oldest parliaments in the world
Alþingishúsið
Just like the square, the adjacent Alþingishúsið, the parliament building, appears rather modest. Yet, this is something the Icelanders can be proud of, as it houses one of the oldest parliaments in the world. Over a thousand years ago, in 930, the country’s most prominent leaders gathered annually at an Alþingi to pass laws and administer justice. Back then, it was held in the open air, but today it takes place in this sturdy building made of volcanic stone.
Austurvöllur
It’s a bit of a climb to Hallgrímskirkja, as the Icelanders built their cathedral at the highest point of the city. When architect Guðjón Samúelsson unveiled his design in the 1940s, it caused quite a stir. Indeed, we can't miss it, two strange wings seem to support the tower like a rocket about to take off. They represent the impressive basalt columns that are abundant on this volcanic island. Unfortunately, Samúelsson never got to see the result of his work. He died in 1950, and his cathedral was not completed until 1986.
Two strange wings seem to support the tower like a rocket about to take off
Hallgrímskirkja |
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Organ |
As striking as the exterior of this Lutheran church is, its interior is quite austere. The only standout feature is the enormous organ, a colossus 15 meters high and weighing no less than 25 tons. Of the 5,275 organ pipes, some are ten meters long. The quality of sound produced by this instrument is widely praised. So much so that the church pews can be flipped during a concert, allowing you to look back and optimally enjoy the music.
Like Christopher Columbus five hundred years later, it was not the American continent that Leifur Eiríksson ‘discovered’, but an island off the coast
Outside, Leifur Eiríksson stands confidently gazing into the distance. His statue serves as a reminder that he was the first European to set foot on American soil. However, this is not entirely accurate, because, like Christopher Columbus five hundred years later, it was not the American continent that this Viking ‘discovered’, but an island off the coast. For Columbus, that probably was San Salvador; for Eiríksson, it was Newfoundland. Nevertheless, his exploits were enough for the United States to gift this statue to Iceland in 1930 in commemoration of the thousandth anniversary of the Alþingi.
A vibrant mix of light and colour greets you from the polygonal glass facets
Hallgrímskirkja |
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Harpa |
Another landmark in the Reykjavík skyline is Harpa, the impressive concert and conference hall by the harbour. The bold construction of steel and glass evokes Iceland's basalt landscape once again. A vibrant mix of light and colour greets you from the polygonal glass facets, a blend that constantly changes depending on your position, the angle of light, and the colours of the sea and clouds.
But it is the MS Fram that we are searching for in the old harbour, the expedition cruise ship from Hurtigruten that will be our home for the next eighteen days. It is waiting for us at Myðbakki. In a mobile immigration office on the dock, our passports are checked. A gangway leads us to deck 3, where both we and our luggage undergo a security scan. Just submit our Health Information Form for approval and we can receive the key cards. Before we know it, we are settling into our cabin shortly after five.
In 2018, the Fram, during its first attempt at the Northwest Passage, couldn't even reach its final destination in Cambridge Bay due to ice forming early
MS Fram
Wi-Fi will be available on board throughout the journey, it turns out. This is the result of an agreement that Hurtigruten made with SpaceX last year. That way Starlink became available, Elon Musk's broadband network that puts twelve thousand communication satellites into low Earth orbit to connect the world's most remote areas to the Internet.
Furthermore, an app will assist us with our daily activities – checking the day's program, consulting the menu, signing up for excursions, reserving a table in the restaurant, exploring additional information, and more. We are particularly fond of the WhatsApp group Fram Wildlife Sightings, which will alert us as soon as the Wildlife Watchers on the forward deck spot any signs of life in the water or on land. Let them come, those whales and those polar bears!
That way Starlink became available, the broadband network that aims to connect the world's most remote areas to the Internet
In the meantime, we learn how to orient ourselves in this vertical world. This will become our first reflex – what deck am I on, and which deck do I need to be on? We will eat on deck 4, where the Lecture Hall and the Science Center are also located. For outdoor observations, we can go to the forward deck on deck 5 or the aft deck on deck 7. If we want to avoid the harsh elements, we can settle in the Explorer Lounge on deck 7 and enjoy the surroundings from our comfy chairs. The tender pit – the spot where we will board a zodiac – is located all the way down on deck 2, directly across from the Medical Center, where Dr. Veronica is in charge. If desired, we can also use the gym or the outdoor jacuzzi on deck 7 or relax in the sauna on deck 8. And if we encounter any problems, we can always turn to the friendly ladies at the reception on deck 4.
The thought alone makes us a bit queasy
MS Fram with lifeboat and tender pit |
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Ship’s bell |
Seven-thirty. Time to gather in the Explorer Lounge – wait, where was that again? – for the safety briefing. Since the Costa Concordia disaster in 2012, this has been mandatory for all cruise ships. The ship isn't allowed to set sail without it. We are introduced to our Muster Station, which is the place we are required to gather in case of an emergency. For cabins with odd numbers like ours, this is on deck 5, port side. Oops, port side? Is that the left side of the ship?
That's where our lifeboat is located. It looks fairly large – 9.6 meters long, 4.5 meters wide, and 3.4 meters high – until you realize that in an emergency, 150 people would have to fit inside. The thought alone makes us a bit queasy. If needed, we're instructed to wear a TPA, a Thermal Protective Aid that will shield us from the extreme cold during an evacuation, even in the water. Candice briefly demonstrates how to put one on. Her demonstration quickly convinces us that there's no way we could manage that on our own.
Eight-thirty. Finally, the moment has arrived. The Fram casts off its lines and sails out of the harbour. We're amazed at how smoothly and quietly it happens, even in open water. You can’t feel the engine's rumble, and you can barely hear it hum.
From Reykjavík to the fjords of southern Greenland, the settlements of western Greenland, Baffin Bay and then onward through the Canadian Arctic Archipelago to Cambridge Bay – that will be our route
Skyline of Reykjavík with Hallgrímskirkja (centre) and Harpa (right)
In the distance, Reykjavík's skyline slowly fades away. The imposing Hallgrímskirkja that dominates the city, the Harpa concert hall gleaming like a gemstone even in the evening sun, the tall apartment blocks along the coast, and the harbour buildings all shrink smaller and smaller. Gradually, the entire city is swallowed by the horizon.
It's high time to turn our gaze westward. We know fairly precisely where this journey will take us – at least in theory. We have a map with the route of the Northwest Passage neatly outlined: Reykjavík, the fjords of southern Greenland, the settlements of western Greenland, the Baffin Bay, and then onward through the Canadian Arctic Archipelago to Cambridge Bay.
However, we're somewhat in the dark about what exactly to expect along the way. We know many explorers made desperate attempts to navigate this passage, with many losing their lives in the process. It's well known that Roald Amundsen was the first to successfully navigate the passage at the beginning of the 20th century. But what we ourselves will see, what we ourselves will experience, what problems our ship will be confronted with, we can only guess for the time being. In 2018, the Fram, during its first attempt at the Northwest Passage, couldn't even reach its final destination in Cambridge Bay due to ice forming early. Passengers were dropped off in Resolute, more than 700 kilometres further north. However, in 2022, after years of hiatus due to the pandemic, the Fram successfully completed the planned route. For us, the prospects seem favourable for now. But we are well aware that this can change at any time. Exciting. Fascinating.
Their expertise appears to encompass the most diverse disciplines
Now that all administrative and logistical concerns are behind us, the real journey can begin. That was part of the message from our Norwegian captain Sverre during the welcome drink. He also introduced his crew. For 132 passengers, there are 103 crew members on board. It doesn't surprise us that most of the crew are Filipinos – there are seventy of them. We’ll soon come to appreciate their dedication and service. The same goes for the other nationalities, including Norwegians, Germans, French, British, and others. However, Mars still rules over Venus, as there are only 23 female staff members.
We're especially eager to meet the expedition team, a group of specialists responsible for planning, executing, and guiding our zodiac cruises and landings, while also providing scientific, historical, and cultural insights along the way. There are twenty-two of them, mostly from Canada and Scandinavia, with expertise spanning a wide range of fields: geology, oceanography, ornithology, earth sciences, glaciology, ecology, marine biology, geomorphology, palaeo-archaeology, and more. Even a historian is part of the team, and surprisingly, his contributions will become some of the most notable during the voyage.
Heidi is actually an urban Inuk, but her head and heart reside with the Inuit living along the coasts of the Canadian Arctic Archipelago
But right now, it's the presence of expedition team member Heidi that captures our attention. She is Inuit – singular Inuk – a people once rather dismissively referred to as Eskimos. She lives in Toronto, Canada, making her an urban Inuk, but her heart and mind reside with the Inuit living along the coasts of the Canadian Arctic Archipelago. Her role, along with her sons Gregory and Eli, is to introduce us to aspects of Inuit culture and teach us how to engage with it respectfully. It’s an essential task, and the trio will carry it out with great enthusiasm and skill.
Tuesday 15 August | Denmark Strait
The sea is calm, the sky is mostly blue, the sun shines brightly in the sky. Nothing disturbs the peace just before seven as we awaken. Only the steady pitching of the ship reminds us that a sea voyage always involves some swell. We are on the open sea now; the Fram sailed through the night. This won’t change in the coming weeks, as we have quite a few nautical miles ahead of us.
Iceland and Greenland were once colonies of Denmark. It makes sense, then, that they named the strait between them the Denmark Strait – a northern variant of Mare Nostrum, so to speak. It will take us two days to cross this strait. Two long days with nothing much to experience.
A dull affair then? Think again
Northern fulmar
A dull affair then? Think again. We have to attend lectures and briefings, we’re expected at the Science Center for a thorough introduction, we need to learn to identify birds and whales, we must learn to observe clouds to complement NASA’s satellite observations, we have to pick up our Muck boots on deck 2, we have to regularly check our app, and, most importantly, we must not miss out on paying due respect to the patisserie department's work in the lounge every day at three, under approving murmurs. And let’s not forget the most important task of all – we need to keep a sharp eye on the sea, as whales and other curious creatures will regularly make their appearance.
Forward – that’s what fram means in Norwegian. Appropriately, the home port of our Fram is Tromsø, Norway. It turns out the ship was built in 2007 by Fincantieri, an Italian giant that constructs just about everything you can find on the sea – from warships to luxury yachts, cruise ships to submarines. In 2022, the Fram underwent a thorough refurbishment. Normally, an expedition cruise ship like ours can last 25 to 30 years, as Captain Sverre will later explain, but with proper maintenance and the ability to adapt to new regulations and expectations, it can easily last 50 to 60 years.
Then suddenly, a fire breaks out near the zodiacs.
Despite its impressive dimensions – 114 m long and 20.2 m wide with a draft of 5.3 m – the Fram is relatively small compared to other cruise ships. And that’s a good thing, as it allows us easier access to smaller fjords. The fact that the hull is ice-strengthened and therefore does not have to fear pack ice is another key advantage. On rare occasions, we’ll cut through the waves at 14 to 15 knots, but most of the time, the captain will maintain a cruising speed of 12 knots. That’s twelve nautical miles per hour, or 22.2 km/h – the speed of an experienced recreational cyclist, roughly.
Northern fulmar
Then suddenly, a fire breaks out near the zodiacs. We’re not alarmed – it’s a simulation for a scheduled drill. But for the crew, such safety drills are taken very seriously; they spring into action in full gear. Safety must also be a constant concern for us, as we’re reminded during the mandatory AECO briefing shortly after eleven. The necessary guidelines have been devised by the Association of Arctic Expedition Cruise Operators, which oversees all expedition cruise operators in the Arctic region.
While the crew extinguishes the virtual fire, we learn how to behave appropriately in the remote Arctic. There's a lot to it, as expedition leader Maria explains. Safety, sustainability, and environmental friendliness are key, but so is respect – respect for the local population, for the fauna and flora, and for cultural relics.
In the Arctic, all cultural relics are legally protected
In the Arctic, all cultural relics are legally protected. These could include human graves, the decaying ruins of trappers' cabins, or the winter houses of the Inuit. But also cairns made of stacked stones, a scattered stone circle that once held a tent, a bleached muskox skull, or even a rusted part of a ship are all considered relics. Some may be hard to recognize as such, but the rule is always the same – don’t touch.
It goes without saying that plants have an incredibly hard time surviving in this harsh climate. If you step on a small plant, you disrupt a process that may take years to recover. We must avoid that as much as possible. Approaching Arctic dogs for a quick photo or to pet them isn’t a good idea either. These are working animals, not pets. During the summer months, they lie idle, chained at the edge of the settlement. The heat and lack of activity make them restless, while during the cold winter months, they thrive.
Tirelessly, the northern fulmars circle behind the Fram, gliding on the thermals with their stiff, straight wings hardly moving
Northern fulmar |
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Dealing with polar bears is a topic all its own. We may encounter them in both Greenland and Canada, and we’re eager to get as close as possible – but not too close. Before each landing with zodiacs, a team of scouts will go ahead to thoroughly survey the area. If a polar bear is found nearby, the landing will be cancelled without hesitation. Additionally, the expedition staff on land will carry flare guns to scare off polar bears with blanks and loud noise if necessary. Should that not be enough – which rarely happens – they have a rifle to prevent worse outcomes. In such a case, we will strictly follow our guides’ instructions. Maria emphasizes that this is definitely not the time to snap a few photos.
Once near land, the external speakers will be turned off to disturb the surrounding wildlife as little as possible
Announcements will occasionally be made through the PA system, the Public Address System. While we are on the open sea, this system is connected to the speakers in the hallways and on the outer decks, as well as to the phones in the cabins. However, once we approach land, the external speakers will be switched off to minimize disturbance to nearby animals.
The zodiac landings must also cause as little disruption to the natural environment as possible. A maximum of one hundred people can land at any given time. Since there are 132 of us – not counting the guides – landings in the wilderness will always occur in two shifts. Most of the time, these will be wet landings, where we wade through the water for a short distance. Hence, the need for muck boots. After each excursion, we must clean our boots to avoid transferring organisms from one island to another. Naturally, when embarking or disembarking, we use the sailor’s grip, where we grasp each other by the wrist. And, of course, we always wear the life jacket available in our cabin while in the zodiac.
At the moment, the ice map still shows dense ice in some areas we need to cross
Ice map showing dense ice (A, B, C) north of King William Island
Planning such a landing is always a bit of a gamble, Maria sighs. Every evening she will present the plan for the next day. Let’s call that plan A. But this entire season, they've only been able to execute plan A once. No matter how you look at it, weather conditions are the deciding factor. For Arctic Canada in particular, it’s the ice conditions. At the moment, the ice map still shows dense ice in some areas we need to cross. Let’s hope the situation there will have improved in two weeks.
Explorers were often forced to wait for better weather conditions, and sometimes even had to overwinter in harsh circumstances
But then there's still the wind. Often, it turns out to be a formidable spoiler. Heavy wind can make Zodiac landings impossible, and it can also push ice floes together, which could even cause problems for the Fram. Too little wind isn't good either, as that can lead to thick fog. That's just part of sailing the Canadian Arctic Archipelago. Explorers who were searching for the Northwest Passage over the past centuries could certainly relate. They were often forced to wait for better weather conditions, and sometimes even had to overwinter in harsh circumstances. Our British historian Benjamin will bring these stories to life for us.
Sei whale
Enough talking, we bundle up and head to the foredeck to get some fresh air. Just in time to spot the dark silhouette of a sei whale in the distance. Easy to recognize, according to Ellie, our marine biologist, because it's the only whale where you can see the blow and the dorsal fin at the same time. With other whales, you’ll only see the dorsal fin after they’ve started their dive.
The sei whale reaches speeds of up to 55 kilometres per hour, more than double the top speed of our Fram
In terms of tonnage, this is the third-largest marine mammal – weighing 28 tons and almost 20 meters long. Only the blue whale and the fin whale are bigger. Moreover, it's a fast swimmer, reaching speeds of up to 55 kilometres per hour, more than double the top speed of our Fram.
That enormous body naturally needs a lot of food, several hundred kilograms a day. Krill, copepods, and other schooling crustaceans are its favourite food, but it won’t turn down fish and squid either.
You’ll rarely see sei whales near the coast; the open ocean is their favourite habitat, especially the deep sea. They can stay underwater for up to 20 minutes but rarely dive deeper than 300 meters. You’ll never find them in tropical areas, nor in polar regions. For now, this one seems to be enjoying these subpolar waters, but as it gets colder, it will migrate south to slightly warmer waters. That lifestyle pays off, as sei whales can live to be 65 to 70 years old.
Sei whale
Then the captain's voice comes through the PA system. He’s making it a habit to inform us daily, around noon, about the whereabouts of the Fram. At the moment, we are in a part of the Denmark Strait known as the Irminger Sea. We've already covered 185 nautical miles, with 460 more to go before we reach the southern tip of Greenland. The weather forecast for today and tomorrow is good, so it should be a calm voyage.
When we convert those nautical miles to kilometres, it turns out we have 1,200 km to cover to reach our first destination. At a speed of 12 knots – about the pace of a leisurely cyclist – it will take us 54 hours of sailing.
The captain also mentioned that the sea here is 1,700 meters deep. A bit further north, the Denmark Strait is even deeper. And something spectacular happens there. We tend to think that seawater only moves due to the wind and tides. But that's not the case. Temperature differences and variations in salinity can also be driving forces. The icy cold water coming from the north collides here with the warm water from the south. Since cold water is relatively heavier than warm water, it sinks to the bottom, slides beneath the warm water and continues southward.
The largest waterfall in the world, with a drop of almost three thousand meters, is located underwater
But the seafloor isn't flat. An underwater mountain range blocks the cold water, causing it to accumulate behind this natural barrier. Eventually, it flows over the top of the mountain range. There, it plunges constantly downward, from a depth of 600 meters to a depth of 3,500 meters. So, it’s an underwater waterfall of nearly three thousand meters. And it spans about 160 kilometres in width. Even Victoria Falls and other famous waterfalls pale in comparison. The largest waterfall in the world is underwater.
Sei whale
But we don’t notice any of that underwater power. Nothing reveals the presence of a waterfall – no thunder heard from miles away, no beautiful rainbows in splashing foam, not even the slightest current on the surface. Only with scientific measuring equipment can the phenomenon be detected.
As we examine minerals through the microscope, a new world opens up
Science has more in store for us, as we hear after lunch from Vivi, our cheerful Finnish conservation biologist and energetic go-getter. The well-equipped Science Center on board is designed to spark curiosity, increase knowledge, and stimulate interest. We’ll be able to come and go as we please. Software is available to identify plants and animals, and powerful microscopes are at hand to study water samples and minerals. It quickly becomes infectious. As we examine minerals through the microscope, a new world opens up. What we once called pebbles and stones often turn out to be sophisticated structures, with a surprising display of lines, shapes, and colours.
Vivi now introduces us to something that looks quite primitive: the Secchi disk. In fact, it’s nothing more than a round white disc attached to a long measuring rope. But in its simplicity, it proves to be a handy measuring tool. From a Zodiac, you lower the disc into the water and record at what depth it becomes invisible. This gives you a reasonable estimate of the presence of phytoplankton, a crucial food source. Just as grass feeds land animals, phytoplankton feeds marine life. But phytoplankton is much more than that. More than 60% of the oxygen on Earth is produced by phytoplankton. The fact that we, as humans, can breathe easily is largely thanks to the photosynthesis that these microscopic plants perform day in and day out.
The prime suspects are the ships that transport iron ore from the open-pit mine at Mary River
Vivi’s enthusiasm is now in full swing. Observing cloud formations and passing the data to NASA. Sending photos of humpback whales and orcas to Happy Whale to track individual animals. Observing birds and reporting the findings to eBird. Sharing wildlife sightings with iNaturalist. All of this is possible on board, and it’s relevant too, even if amateurs like us do it. Why? Simply because these remote areas are rarely visited, and observation data is therefore scarce.
This is precisely why Vicky and Betty are on board. They’re called guest scientists, and for their research, they will continuously take measurements. Their study focuses on the presence of microplastics in this subpolar environment. To do this, they sample the intake water from the Fram, take seawater samples from the places where we will land with the Zodiacs, and continuously collect air samples. The latter helps them map the emission of black carbon, a substance that contributes to global warming. The prime suspects here are the ships that transport iron ore from the open-pit mine at Mary River. They could be emitting significant amounts of black carbon.
And last but not least, Betty grins as she explains, they will place containers around the ship to get an idea of our microplastic emissions. Huh? Our microplastic emissions? Yes, indeed. The synthetic clothing we’re wearing, like the red windproof and waterproof jackets with neon yellow hoods we’ve received, inevitably release microscopic particles as we move around.
At the stern, we notice that only northern fulmars accompany us. Tirelessly, they circle behind the Fram, gliding on the thermals with their stiff, straight wings hardly moving. They remain at sea year-round, only setting foot on land during the breeding season. As a result, they ingest quite a bit of salty seawater. This salt is excreted via a salt gland and two tubes on their beaks. To the casual observer, it looks like they have a runny nose. Their relation to the albatrosses of the Southern Ocean is unmistakable.
They feed on fish, squid, plankton, and fish waste, mostly picking their prey from the water’s surface but occasionally diving for it. Microplastics pose a threat to them too, as these harmful substances accumulate in their digestive systems. They even eat jellyfish, which presents another problem: sometimes they mistake plastic for a tasty jellyfish. Plastic has been found in the stomachs of about half the birds, sometimes even in chicks, which can lead to their death.
Only during the breeding season do northern fulmars reluctantly seek out cliffs to raise their young. You’re better off staying away from them then, as they can spit foul-smelling stomach oil up to two meters. If this substance gets on another bird’s feathers, it can impair its ability to fly and may even lead to death.
In one gulp, it can take in up to seventy cubic meters of water, equivalent to the volume of a room measuring four by seven meters and two and a half meters high
Fin whales
Then, halfway across the horizon, two fin whales appear. Or at least their spouts, as we don’t see much of their bodies yet. They can grow up to 27 meters long, making them the second largest animal on Earth.
In the Gulf of California, a group of sixteen orcas has been seen chasing and killing a fin whale
Yet, this giant among marine mammals mainly feeds on the smallest creatures in the ocean – krill and copepods. To do so, it turns onto its right side and swims towards its prey with its mouth wide open. In one gulp, it can take in up to seventy cubic meters of water, equivalent to the volume of a room measuring four by seven meters and two and a half meters high. It then expels the water, leaving all the tasty food trapped in its baleen. From that, it gets about ten kilograms of food. Considering that it needs about 1,800 kilograms of food daily, it has a lot of water to filter.
This gentle giant seems invincible, but it’s not. No matter how large it is, the fin whale still has enemies. First and foremost, humans. Due to intensive hunting, it remains an endangered species. But orcas can also pose a serious threat, even to adult whales. In fact, in the Gulf of California, a group of sixteen orcas has been seen chasing and killing a fin whale. It took them an hour to catch and kill it. They nibbled on the sinking carcass for about fifteen minutes, then left it to its fate.
But it has an important advantage – we’ll experience six days that are twenty-five hours long
In the west, the sun is slowly setting. For now, it still does that. In about two weeks, when we reach our northernmost point, that will no longer be the case. Then we’ll be able to enjoy the midnight sun all night long. Due to the heavy cloud cover, we can’t see it right now. Nevertheless, visibility over the calm blue water is excellent.
Tonight, we’ll set the clock back an hour – three o'clock will become two o'clock. We’ll do this a total of six times during this journey. That’s just how it is when you sail close to the pole; the meridians are close together, and the time zones are quite narrow. But it has an important advantage – we’ll experience six days that are twenty-five hours long.
Wednesday 16 August | Denmark Strait
Pilot whales, around 30, at 2 o'clock. Still a little sleepy, we take note of the message in the WhatsApp group. About thirty pilot whales have appeared on the starboard side. But it's seven in the morning, and unfortunately, we're not ready for it. And our cabin is on the port side. By the time we make it outside, the pilot whales have disappeared from view.
It's strange. It's as if the sea surface is covered with a sheet of black velvet. There are hardly any waves or even ripples on the water, at most a gentle swell. Yet, we are still in the open sea. A grey blanket of clouds has completely taken over the sky, and it's raining a little. There’s barely any wind, yet there’s no mist. Even the northern fulmars are giving us a break for a while.
It all started with a hair. With this bold statement, historian Benjamin immediately grabs our attention after breakfast as he begins to sketch the history of Greenland – or Kalaallit Nunaat, as the Inuit call their land. Don’t expect a dull list of historical facts from him. Benjamin wants to tell a story, zooming in on the motivations, ambitions, successes, and setbacks of his main characters. He seeks to uncover the why and how of their exploits.
The current inhabitants of Greenland do not descend from a single people who colonized this vast island from Alaska in the distant past
Great shearwaters
Although his claim is somewhat exaggerated, it was indeed the analysis of a human hair that shed new light on the first waves of migration. The current inhabitants of Greenland do not descend from a single people who colonized this vast island from Alaska in the distant past. No, Greenland has experienced several waves of migration. Time and again, different peoples settled on its coasts, attempting to survive under extremely difficult conditions. They managed for a few centuries but eventually disappeared into the mists of time.
The human hair in question was found near Qeqertasussuk on the west coast of Greenland in the 1980s. It was still in perfect condition when researchers subjected it to modern DNA analysis in 2010. What did they find? It was 4,000 years old. So it belonged to a man who was part of what we now call the Saqqaq culture, which existed on Greenland's west coast between 2500 and 800 BCE.
These migrants must have crossed the Bering Sea during the winter when the strait was frozen
A comparison with peoples living in the far northeast of Siberia also revealed that our man was genetically related to them. In other words, around 5,000 years ago, there must have been a migration from Siberia to Greenland. Note that at that time, there was no land bridge between Siberia and Alaska. These migrants must have crossed the Bering Sea during the winter when the strait was frozen. This meant they took an enormous risk, as it’s likely they had no idea how wide the strait was or where they would end up once the sea ice began to melt.
Great shearwater
The same applies to the wave of migration that settled in the far north of Greenland and managed to sustain itself there from 2400 to 1300 BCE. This culture is called Independence I, a name that refers to Independence Fjord, the site where the first findings were made.
Both cultures had long vanished by the time yet another wave of migration arrived around 700 BCE. Where these people came from exactly is unknown, but they were no ordinary folks, Benjamin emphasizes. They succeeded not only in colonizing West and East Greenland but also the vast territory of Canadian Nunavut. Their name, Early Dorset, refers to Dorset Island near Hudson Bay.
The Thule are the direct ancestors of the current Inuit, both genetically, culturally, and socially
After the Early Dorset came the Late Dorset. This seems quite logical, you might think. But it’s not that simple. It took a thousand years before the Late Dorset made their appearance. From 200 to around 1100, no one seemed interested in moving to Greenland.
Then the Thule emerged. The picture now changed completely. From 1300 onward, they spread along the coasts of Greenland. What happened to the Dorset is unknown. The fact is that after 1500 nothing was ever heard from them again. The Thule, on the other hand, have managed to endure to this day. They are the direct ancestors of the current Inuit, both genetically, culturally, and socially.
Great shearwaters
In the meantime, a migration of a very different calibre had begun. This time, the migrants came from the east, specifically from Iceland. There, Norsemen had settled a few decades earlier to escape their tyrannical rulers in Denmark and Norway. However, as fertile land in Iceland became increasingly scarce, they wanted to try their luck in Greenland.
In 982, Erik the Red had already taken a look and named the island Greenland – a cynical marketing stunt to entice as many colonists as possible to embark on an expedition to the inhospitable island. By 985, time had come. A fleet of 25 ships led by Erik sailed from Iceland to the southern tip of Greenland, following the same route we are now taking. But with less success, as only 14 ships survived the crossing.
Even under dense cloud cover or during twilight, when the sun is below the horizon, the Norsemen could determine the position of the sun with a piece of Iceland spar
Still, it commands admiration how the Norsemen navigated even on the open sea. Ancient annals speak of a mysterious sunstone that helped them in this regard. Even under dense cloud cover or during twilight, when the sun is below the horizon, they could determine the position of the sun with it. Scientists suspect that it was Iceland spar. When you hold this transparent mineral in front of your naked eye, you can detect the polarization of indirect sunlight. You can then determine the position of the sun with an accuracy of a few degrees.
Unbeknownst to them, these Norsemen benefited from what we now call the Medieval Warm Period, a time when temperatures in the Northern Hemisphere were significantly higher than before and after. This medieval summer lasted approximately from 950 to 1250.
Black-legged kittiwake
Yet it must not have been pleasant to arrive in the rugged environment of the fjords of South Greenland in open boats. There was hardly any fertile land, except deep in the fjords. The land was rough and undeveloped, and the climate was merciless. But Norsemen were not easily deterred. They had come to stay and founded the Eastern Settlement. At its peak, about 4,000 people lived there. Erik the Red himself settled in Brattahlíð. Today, about five hundred ruins still remind us of their presence.
Gradually, the Norsemen moved north along the west coast of Greenland. The area around the present capital, Nuuk, seemed so attractive to them that they established the Western Settlement there. However, this region never had more than a thousand inhabitants. So far north, the growing season was far too short to produce enough crops.
Conflict seemed inevitable as the Norsemen moved further north and the Thule were heading south
Conflict seemed inevitable as the Norsemen moved further north and the Thule were heading south. It is certain that they encountered each other at the end of the 14th century, and that they traded with each other as well. However, their relations remained tense, bordering on hostile. The Norsemen mockingly called the Inuit skrælings, presumably an Old Norse reference to the animal skins they wore. The Inuit, for their part, held the Norsemen in low regard because they did not even possess proper clothing made of animal skins to withstand the extreme conditions.
Black-legged kittiwakes
Then suddenly, decline set in. The Norsemen left. The last document found in the Eastern Settlement dates back to 1408. The reason for this exodus is still a matter of speculation. Several hypotheses have been formulated, the most likely of which points to the Little Ice Age as the main culprit. This period afflicted the region from around 1400 to 1850. It was not a ‘true’ ice age; the average annual temperature did not even drop by 1 °C, but in this precarious environment, that was enough. Harvests failed, and livestock could not survive the winters. Solid ice encased the coasts of Greenland, making the interior inaccessible to ships.
After 1500, there were no more Norsemen in Greenland. The Inuit reclaimed Greenland for themselves. They knew how to deal with the Little Ice Age. In their kayaks, the Inuit were excellent hunters, using their harpoons to hunt seals, narwhals, and even whales. Their traditional clothing, made from the skins of seals and caribou, was well-suited for these extreme conditions. Unlike European clothing, it did not become useless once wet.
The Inuit did not have gender-specific roles; women and men contributed equally to the community, at a time when that was far from the case in Europe
The Inuit did not have gender-specific roles; women and men contributed equally to the community, at a time when that was far from the case in Europe. They carved artistic figures from sperm whale teeth and made maps from wood with cut outs on the edge representing the cliffs along the coast. This was not a culture that merely survived, Benjamin argues; this was a culture that thrived.
Meanwhile, in Europe, the Danish king Christian IV began to worry about his subjects in Greenland – not so much about their well-being, but about the revenue he was missing out on. He sent three expeditions to Greenland between 1605 and 1607. However, there were no Norsemen; all that was found were ruins.
The idea that the Norsemen had either died out or emigrated was hard to accept. In 1722, Bishop Hans Egede was sent out to locate the vanished Norsemen and also to convert them. Because by this time, Lutheranism had taken hold in Scandinavia, a benefit that the Norsemen in Greenland had missed out on.
Egede continued to exude cultural superiority, which makes him a controversial figure, much like Christopher Columbus, for example
Egede landed at Kangeq and named this place the Colony of Hope. But no matter how hard he looked, he could not find any Norsemen. So he began converting the Inuit instead. He wasted no time; by 1724, he had baptized the first Inuit child. Later, the colony was moved inland and renamed Godthåb or Good Hope. Ultimately, that place would become Nuuk, the capital of Greenland.
While Egede may have done positive things, Benjamin notes, he continued to exude cultural superiority, which makes him a controversial figure, much like Christopher Columbus, for example. His statue in Nuuk has been vandalized with red paint.
In 1911, Greenland received two parliaments – one for the north and one for the south – but Denmark kept a tight grip on the reins. All important decisions were made in Copenhagen, over the heads of the Inuit.
Pilot whales
Then came World War II. Nazi Germany occupied Denmark. Kauffman, the Danish ambassador to the USA, unilaterally signed an agreement with the USA in April 1941. This allowed the USA to establish air force bases in Greenland to prevent a possible German attack. This was not taken lightly in Copenhagen. Kauffman was accused of high treason, and his rank and status were stripped from him. However, after the end of the war, his rehabilitation followed quite swiftly.
in 1968 a B-52 carrying four hydrogen bombs crashed on the sea ice. There is still a suspicion that only three of the four bombs were recovered
The fact that the USA still has an air force base in Pituffik – the former Thule Air Base – is a result of this treaty. It was here that in 1968 a B-52 carrying four hydrogen bombs crashed on the sea ice. There is still a suspicion that only three of the four bombs were recovered.
Meanwhile, the Greenlanders had developed a taste for self-determination. In 1953, the colony became an autonomous province and received representation in the Danish parliament. In 1956, the USA offered 100 billion dollars to purchase the island, but the Greenlanders resolutely rejected that offer. In 1979, the island gained Home Rule, and in 2009, Self-Rule. From then on, Greenland even had the right to unilaterally declare independence, provided that the population approved it through a referendum – a step that the Greenlanders are currently not inclined to take. This is because Denmark would immediately tighten the financial purse strings. However, Greenland did leave the European Economic Community in 1985 – a quiet Grexit, 35 years before the tumultuous Brexit. Since then, Greenland has managed its own fishing grounds.
Pilot whales, great shearwater
Pilot whales on the port side close, our app reports. This time, we’re quick to respond. The pilot whales gracefully slice through the mirror-smooth silver surface of the water. In a synchronized ballet, their glossy black, curved backs repeatedly emerge from the water. Their sickle-shaped dorsal fins make them easily recognizable. As with all dolphins, the fin is located in the middle of their back, while in whales, the dorsal fin is positioned further back. Pilot whales especially thrive in cold or even polar waters.
Nowadays, it is believed that noise pollution caused by human activities is the primary reason why pilot whales sometimes lose their way
Pilot whales are exceptionally social animals. The pod we are observing consists of twenty to thirty individuals. It was once thought that such groups were led by an alpha female. Their English name, pilot whale, stems from this misconception. The mass stranding of pilot whales was then attributed to a navigational error made by the leading female. By following her lead, the entire group would strand themselves. Nowadays, it is believed that noise pollution caused by human activities is the primary reason why pilot whales sometimes lose their way.
They can grow to four to seven meters long, making them the second-largest dolphin species after orcas. Speaking of orcas, they are actually their biggest enemies, not counting humans. Pilot whales feed primarily on squid, cod, turbot, mackerel, and the like. However, orcas do indeed have pilot whales on their menu. Nonetheless, it has been observed multiple times that a group of pilot whales chases an orca. Of course, this is not to devour it, but perhaps to prevent it from capturing one of their own or simply to defend their hunting grounds.
It turns out that an orca is actually a dolphin, and despite its name, a pilot whale is not a whale at all. What’s going on here?
Pilot whales
If we thought we knew what a whale was, we’ve now encountered a few puzzles. For example, it turns out that an orca is actually a dolphin, and despite its name, a pilot whale is not a whale at all. What’s going on here? Ellie, our marine biologist, has answers to such questions.
Scientists refer to them as cetaceans, a group that includes all whales, dolphins, and porpoises. They share the common trait of being mammals, not fish, even though they live in water. You will regularly see them surface to take in a supply of oxygen. They are warm-blooded, give birth to live young, produce milk to nurse their young, and protect them until they can stand on their own two feet – or should we say fins?
The most important distinction among cetaceans is not whether they are a whale, dolphin, or porpoise, but whether they belong to the baleen whales or the toothed whales
Black-legged kittiwake
The most important distinction among cetaceans is not whether they are a whale, dolphin, or porpoise, but whether they belong to the baleen whales or the toothed whales. Because that is a world of difference.
Baleen whales have enormous baleen plates in their mouths that form an efficient net. When they open their mouths, various small creatures, such as plankton, krill, and small fish, get stuck. However, these tiny plants or animals, measuring just a few millimetres, are not very nutritious. Therefore, for a baleen whale, the goal is to consume as many of these organisms as possible. Baleen whales are equipped with enormous mouths, comparable in volume to a room in a house. Naturally, a large mouth requires a large body. It’s no wonder that baleen whales are the largest animals on Earth. The blue whale, the fin whale, the humpback whale, and the bowhead whale are just a few examples.
While baleen whales, like humans, have two nostrils, toothed whales have only one
Toothed whales, on the other hand, are smaller. They do not have baleen but do have teeth. You can confidently call them predators, as they feed on fish, squid, and even seals. Dolphins and porpoises are classified as toothed whales, along with orcas, belugas, and narwhals.
The sperm whale also belongs to the toothed whales, although it only has teeth in its lower jaw. Its upper jaw contains only sockets that fit those teeth neatly. The most famous sperm whale of all time is undoubtedly Moby Dick.
Porpoises resemble dolphins but are smaller and have a flat face, while dolphins often have a bottle-shaped snout.
Black-legged kittiwake
While baleen whales, like humans, have two nostrils, toothed whales have only one. The other nostril has evolved into an organ that they use for echolocation. For a hunter, this is a handy tool. You emit a sound, catch the echo, and determine the position of a potential prey in this way. The dorsal fin has undergone a similar development. A baleen whale cannot do much with it, whereas a toothed whale relies on its dorsal fin to be agile enough when chasing its prey. Funny is the tiny eye of the cetaceans. You have to search hard on the body of a colossal whale to find its eye. They hardly use their eyes, they mainly respond to sounds.
If you want to spot cetaceans, you will mostly succeed in productive regions, according to Ellie, that is to say in regions where there is a lot of food to be found. That is primarily on the continental shelf. But fjords are also popular, because the transition from salt water to fresh water creates a kind of wall through which food is brought to the surface. Just like at the edge of the pack ice, because that is where larvae are released as soon as the ice starts to melt.
Ellie shares a few more observation tips. A black spot on the water’s surface could be a school of dolphins. Lots of birds above a certain spot in open water likely indicate a baleen whale foraging there. But usually, it’s their spout that attracts attention. For fin whales, that spout can easily reach eight to ten meters high. If the whale spouts its fountain diagonally in front of it, then you are definitely dealing with a sperm whale. If the spout is more of a fluffy affair than a nice vertical stream, it’s probably a humpback whale drawing attention.
In the early evening, the seawater loses its velvety character completely. The dark grey water surface now undulates wildly in all directions. Black-legged kittiwakes, easily recognizable by their black wing tips, are unfazed by this. Unperturbed, they glide along the rippling water, just like a couple of sooty shearwaters. A northern fulmar fearlessly sails its course, now high above the wake, then low above the water along the ship.
Their surprising appearance, their improbably colourful beak, and their funny behaviour have earned them the nickname clown of the sea
Puffin
But it is the puffins that manage to surprise us. It takes a while before we notice them. Only when they emerge from a cloud of splashing water do we finally spot them. This is partly thanks to their camouflage. Like all other auks, they have a black back and a white belly. Birds of prey in the sky find it hard to distinguish their black back in the dark water, while predators in the water have difficulty distinguishing their white belly from the bright sky. Their surprising appearance, their improbably colourful beak, and their funny behaviour have earned them the nickname clown of the sea.
It is not easy for a puffin to get out of the water. They are so short, those wings
Puffin
It's not easy for a puffin to lift itself out of the water. They are so short, those wings. In fact, they're more suited for swimming underwater – even more than ten meters deep – than for flying above water. But time and again, they manage to do it, frantically flapping in a mist of water droplets, taking to the sky. Once launched, they can reach speeds of up to 80 km/h.
As funny as the scene might seem, for puffins this is business as usual. They spend a large part of the year on the open sea. Unlike most birds, their beak doesn't open like scissors but moves both jaws in a parallel motion. This way, they can catch several fish in succession and still hold them in their beak.
Only when breeding season begins do they seek out steep cliffs along the coast. There, they pair up, dig out a burrow themselves, or borrow one from an absent rabbit, and begin incubating an egg.
Puffins dig out a burrow themselves, or borrow one from an absent rabbit, and begin incubating an egg
Puffin
Later in the evening, it becomes a bit misty in the distance. While visibility had been almost unlimited until now, it has now been reduced to just a few hundred meters. This doesn't stop expedition leader Maria from calling it the best weather she's experienced this year during the evening briefing. And she has more good news. Tomorrow morning, after two days at sea, our patience will be rewarded. Our crossing of more than 660 nautical miles will come to an end, and we will have the coast of Greenland in sight. Or, to put it another way, things will start to get interesting.
If we can trust the ice chart, we don’t have to worry about solid ice, only a bit of loose ice in some side fjords
Specifically, around a quarter to six, we will reach the entrance to Prince Christian Sound, an event not to be missed. If we can trust the ice chart, we don’t have to worry about solid ice, only a bit of loose ice in some side fjords. During the day, temperatures will rise to a comfortable 10 to 13 °C (50 to 55 °F). There won’t be any rain, and the wind speed will barely reach a modest 2 m/s. In short, things are looking good for tomorrow.
Great shearwaters
Meanwhile, the mist around us keeps getting denser. There is no wind, and even the sea has once again donned its black velvet cloak.
Once more, we have to set the clock back an hour – three o'clock becomes two o'clock. This means we are now four hours behind Belgium.
Jaak Palmans
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