Nuuk – Sisimiut – Ilulissat and our entry into the Arctic Circle
The long passage to Greenland and our appointment with death
Nuuk – Sisimiut – Ilulissat and our entry into the Arctic Circle
The long passage to Greenland and our appointment with death
Prince Christian Sound - Aappilattoq - Nanortalik - Paamiout - Nuuk
Finally, the next day had dawned.
We were trying to realize that we were all alive.
We kept hugging and couldn't hold back our tears.
We were there, alive, fully aware of how easy it is to lose everything in an instant.
How thin is the thread that keeps us alive.
How close heaven is from hell.
Once again, the sea taught us in the most intense way how incredibly small our size really is.
The waters in the Christian canal had calmed down and so we were able to make breakfast and hot drinks that we needed so much.
I don't even remember if we had eaten anything all those days...
DAY 22nd / Sunday 24 of July 2022
Time 11:30΄
Position: 60°09΄N 44°17΄W – Aappilattoq
Reinvigorated now, we were riding across the Prince Christian Channel at low speed.
With eyes wide open we carefully surveyed our course, constantly passing between icebergs and small pieces of ice that were chipped off by the glaciers of the northern shores.
We were speechless, clearly shocked by our nightmarish adventure.
On the other hand, we were trying to forget and enjoy the unique images that the channel was offering us. It was very difficult though, as in its icy waters we experienced the most nightmarish moments of our lives.
Proceeding to its rapids, very soon the waters of the channel became calm while the steep and rugged vertical rocks that surround it presented us with enchantingly wild images. Every few meters we encountered amazing waterfalls falling from a great height and thus we were forced to constantly slow down to admire them and of course take the necessary photos.
Although we were not in the best mood, the sight had literally shocked us.
The three glaciers that dominate between the high and sharp rocks of the northern side are particularly impressive and combined with the surrounding imposing environment turn Prince Christian Sound into one of the most charming fjords in the world.
At one point we turned left and then immediately right, following the course of the canal. In front of us lays a majestic calm lake, nestled between the high and snow-capped mountains, with large icebergs scattered in every direction.
Spectacular formations, imposing and unique landscapes that take your breath away.
I have no doubt that this wild, unspoiled and natural beauty of Prince Christian Sound was definitely one of the most exciting parts of our entire trip.
An area that is really worth travelling all the miles in the world to get to know and admire.
One of the most attractive landscapes in all of Greenland.
Approximately in the middle of the lake, there was a small boat.
We approached slowly without bothering with our wakes and greeted the first Greenlandic Inuit we met.
He was a middle-aged man and a child with the characteristic physiognomy of the native inhabitants who live on top of the planet.
Without being able to communicate, they greeted us with their characteristic shy smile and urged us to visit their small village, pointing to it.
On the opposite bank, on a low and rocky plateau, we saw the colorful houses of Aappilattoq.
A very small village, with about 70 souls all of whom survive by hunting and fishing, surrounded by breathtaking icebergs and towering cliffs.
Everything seems magically made in this place.
Wild nature in all its glory.
One of the most shocking landscapes on the planet.
With a strong feeling that we are at the Edge of the World, where God himself really cannot find you, we slowly entered the very narrow entrance of the natural little fishing harbor of Aappilattoq. We approached the small pontoon where the local boats are crowded and squeezed our inflatable boat between them.
On our arrival many gathered to observe this strange vessel which approached their places. It was obvious that they had never seen anything like it before and they were touching it, petting it, taking pictures and asking us to come in to see it.
That's how we met Jaaku who became our best friend who helped us a lot with everything we needed.
First we went out for a short walk in the village and then we went with the Rib to the other side of the small cove where the gas station is. We refueled and returned to the small pontoon. We were impressed by the huge, for the village standards, market that had everything. We stocked up on supplies and headed to the little house Jaakau found us for a hot bath.
We really needed it after so many days in the ocean.
The first thing we did was to go all together to the small church to light a candle.
We were still trying to recover from our yesterday’s strong shock.
I sat on top of the glossy rocks in front of the narrow harbor entrance trying to relax. The scenery around me was breathtaking.
Absolute peace everywhere. Enchanting images everywhere I looked.
I stayed up there for a long time, speechless and thoughtful.
I was trying to realize where I was. To absorb with all my senses the eerie aura that this place exudes.
Qaanaaq may have the reputation of being the place of poets and thinkers, but I think Aappilattoq is the ideal place to get lost in your thoughts and calm your soul.
The village's only connection to the outside world is by helicopter from neighboring Nanortalik, as it is surrounded by tall and rocky mountains that isolate it from everywhere.
DAY 23rd / Monday 25 of July 2022
Time 15:30΄
Position: 60°08΄N 45°09΄W – Nanortalik
We didn't have any more time and so the next day we said goodbye to the wonderful Aappilattoq and headed for Nanortalik, 40 nautical miles further west.
We continued our course through the narrow channel, navigating through the fog and between the numerous icebergs. Soon we were off the west coast of Greenland and turned our bow to the north.
Fog and ice everywhere.
It took us 3 hours to cover the 40 miles that separated us from Nanortalik.
Nanortalik is Greenland's 11th largest settlement with 1,185 inhabitants and the first village we encounter when coming from the South.
Nanortalik, which means the "area of polar bears", is adjacent to the famous Tasermiut Fjord and has been an attraction for many tourists in recent years.
However, the dense fog and incredible humidity that prevailed everywhere on the day of our arrival, did not leave much room for acquaintance and sightseeing.
We refueled from the gas station located next to a special platform, found a place in the crowded harbor and headed to the hotel-restaurant to rest and get strength for the next.
The next morning we set sail for Paamiut, 200 nautical miles further north.
DAY 24th / Tuesday 26 of July 2022
Time 22:00΄
Position: 61°31΄N 49°01΄W – Smallsud
With strong waves against our bow, a lot of fog and countless icebergs in our way, we navigated at low speed for many hours.
It was very difficult to gain the miles while the cold was bitter and the tension within us very high from our constant focus on the radar screen and the incessant inspection of the horizon trying to avoid ice.
After 90 nautical miles of rough navigation, we stopped at a leeward bay on Nunarsuit Island for food and a short rest.
We continued to travel at low speed and when we had covered 165 nautical miles and about 35 more to reach Paamiut which was our final destination, but suddenly the starboard engine stopped working.
Shock and awe.
That's what was missing now in these inhospitable places, I muttered and bowed my head trying to hide my anguish.
This motoring agony really is priceless.
It's my only fear on any long trip.
However, knowing very well that in 90% of the cases there is an obstruction in the fuel supply, plus the fact that the engine did not issue any fault code, I was quite optimistic. Of course we also had the most special man in the crew, Carlos, so we started staring at him to hear his opinion. In the thick fog we didn't have the luxury of looking to find the cause of the problem as the stern locker had too many things to remove so as Carlos be able to inspect the fuel system. We tried several times to start the engine but it stubbornly refused to start. But everything indicated that it was fuel atrophy.
It was late in the afternoon, so we unanimously decided to look for the nearest bay, where we would be safe and of course spend the night there.
A few miles ahead of us, the map showed a narrow and long bay, at the bottom of which is a small island. Directly behind this islet was a small shelter that pointed to a safe haven.
Without wasting a moment, we turned our bow towards the entrance of the bay. We were now moving on the left engine alone, at 4-5 knots, through ice and reefs, while the thick fog was a horrible nightmare.
It is true that fog is one of the biggest challenges of navigation. But when it is accompanied by the presence of icebergs and countless small pieces of ice then it becomes particularly threatening. Of course, if the wind factor is added to the above mixture, then we are talking about a hellacious experience.
At that moment, the sea was calm but we had an additional factor that made us extremely nervous and incredibly insecure.
We were very close to the shores and riding at very low speed with only one engine, between rocks that protruded from the surface of the water only a few meters or even centimeters at times. The waters were completely unknown to us and, of course, usually uncharted, with the result that the GPS did not show us the depths.
We were trying to keep our composure and going slowly as the bow pierced through the thick fog. It might have taken us more than one hour to cover a distance of less than a nautical mile. Our anxiety was indescribable as we entered the narrow entrance of Smallsud Cove.
We slowly went behind the islet and dropped anchor.
Air temperature +3 °C.
We immediately got to work and very quickly emptied the rear locker completely.
We got out the spare parts and water separator filters, Carlos got his gear and dove into the locker. After some time we were ready to test the engine. It started operating and we let it run for about 20 minutes without showing the previous symptoms. Certain now that the damage had been repaired, we took out food and entered the cabin for our dinner.
Fortunately the heater took only a few minutes to heat up the small cabin space so we felt very comfortable removing our heavy suits.
Although quite snug, we soon fell into a deep sleep while the alarms were set for 6 o'clock in the morning.
DAY 25th / Wednesday 27 of July 2022
Position: 61° 59΄ N 49° 40΄ W – Paamiut
At 06:30΄ in the morning, we raised the anchor and slowly left our peaceful haven.
The fog did not want to disperse.
The cold is very noticeable.
Air temperature -3 °C.
Outside the entrance to our narrow cove, we picked up speed. But less than 5 minutes passed and suddenly the starboard engine stopped working again.
The cold hand of fear and agony made its presence felt.
Without a second thought, we turned our bow again towards the shelter where we had spent the night.
The frost was numbing our fingers, but we had to re-empty the stern locker and re-inspect the fuel lines.
With no time to waste, thinking that the problem might be in the boat's main tank, we took a long spare fuel hose and fed petrol directly to the starboard engine from the polyester tank, bypassing the entire central fuel system.
Now, the engine had no reason not to run.
It was already 09:30΄.
We were trying to approach Paamiut, but the icebergs and dense fog did not allow us to cover many miles.
Sometimes we thought that what we saw were figures of our imagination, like we dreamt them. It was truly a trip to the end of the world.
Many hours of navigation in thick fog, where you can't see beyond 20 meters, while at the same time icebergs and especially small pieces of ice cover huge areas, while they are 2-5 meters apart. Truly unprecedented conditions, scenes that look more like movies than real, as a result of which we travel at 3-7 knots while anxiety, awe and sometimes insecurity blocked our thinking and negatively affected our psychology.
So again on our way to Paamiut from where we were separated by about 30 nautical miles. The icebergs were many and the sea seemed inaccessible from the scattered ice that filled our horizon. The fog was still incredibly thick in some places.
It was obvious that it was created by the warmer and moister air over the frozen waters. The cold, which during the morning is particularly intense, causes moisture to condense, forming tiny droplets that are suspended in the air.
This is perhaps the main reason why fog is a very common phenomenon in these latitudes.
But this time, it was obvious that something had changed inside me.
Perhaps this is due to our suffering with fuel atrophy, which pissed me off quite a bit. I was angry with our bad luck.
This made me even more obstinate.
I didn't care about the thick fog anymore.
It bothered me a lot, but it didn't make me nervous and insecure anymore.
We had covered so many miles in all kinds of fog that it now looked very familiar to my eyes.
It was now part of our daily life.
So are the icebergs and countless pieces of ice on our way.
I slowed down and ignored the fog, focusing my gaze on the very near horizon line.
Where the thick fog was touching the sea. This was very helpful in not needlessly squinting and not blurring my field of vision so much in the fuzzy cloud of fog.
After all, all the obstacles were there.
In the blurred line of the horizon.
And the thicker the fog, the more I slowed down.
Sometimes I even stopped the Rib completely when I was unsure of which course to take or when a huge mass of iceberg suddenly appeared, like a ghost, only a few meters from my bow.
I now felt an immense familiarity and quite simply was trying to concentrate and find my way. Nothing more, nothing less.
All the Rib’s lights were permanently on, as was the AIS, while two eyes were constantly fixed on the radar, which under these conditions is the ultimate tool.
It was our own eyes in the fog and ice.
Its help was very important and filled us with confidence and optimism.
For about 10 miles we slowly traveled through thick fog and a sea filled with icebergs and small pieces of ice, products of the very large glacier that is in the particular latitude we were traveling.
It was still a few miles to Paamiut, after which we would relatively rarely encounter fog since it mainly forms on the southernmost coasts of Greenland.
Finally, after noon, and of course in absolute fog, we were navigating among the numerous islets located outside the port of Paamiut.
We first headed to the gas station located on the dock to refuel and then returned to one of the floating platforms in the narrow harbor.
A few tens of meters further there is a decent hotel-restaurant where we stayed for two nights.
DAY 26th / Thursday 28 of July 2022
Position: 61°59΄N 49°40΄W – Paamiut
On this day, Windy forecasted heavy fog and winds of 25 knots.
So we decided to stay safe on our floating platform and only concern ourselves with tidying up and cleaning the boat.
We emptied almost all the lockers and spread our things out on the platform where we were moored. We had all the time now to completely replace all parts of the fuel system. We cleaned the boat very well and put our endless supplies back inside, tidy and beautiful, in the presence of many children who watched us with intense curiosity painted in their eyes.
DAY 27th/28th - Friday/Saturday 29-30 of July 2022
Position: 64°11΄N 51°41΄W – Nuuk
Friday 07:30΄ in the morning, we untied the bow lines and turned our bow towards the North. 150 nm separated us from Nuuk, the capital of Greenland.
There, our friends, the entire Suzuki-Greenland staff, were waiting for us, where we had planned to take the boat out of the water for a full service and thorough inspection.
It was our first time riding in Greenlandic waters without fog, without floating pieces of ice, without multitudes of icebergs.
Only five to ten very large icebergs we saw and those far from our course.
The first 80 miles passed very nicely, with clear skies and perfect glassy seas.
The remaining 70 miles were pretty tough, with wind speeds around 20 knots which peaked at 25 a few miles before our destination.
But they were south-westerns and we were traveling with blue horizons.
Just as predicted by Windy who had become our best friend.
I can say we enjoyed this cruise.
We were changing every hour at the steering wheel.
We played with the waves, although sometimes they were particularly big, and we ran sometimes normally and sometimes at high speeds.
We needed this to release a little of the tension built up inside us.
Finally, at 13:00’ we entered the port of Nuuk.
We had traveled 150 nautical miles and burned 555 liters.
Kim, the Suzuki dealer, was standing on the waterbreaker. He was taking pictures and at the same time he signaled for us to tie up at the large floating pontoon where the gas station he was managing was located.
He welcomed us with great joy and helped us to tie up.
Kim's organization and speed were proverbial.
In less than one hour, the crane quickly lifted the boat out of the water and transported it to Suzuki's sea-side facility.
It loaded onto a large trailer and immediately entered a wonderful, enclosed and secure workshop. This was followed by coffee and a brief account of our trip. Although Kim's staff had to stop working at 6 o'clock in the afternoon, they stayed with us and all together put in a real race to get our damage repaired and our engines fully serviced.
They were all sensational.
Within a short time, in a completely professional manner that I confess left us speechless, the engine service was completed.
Oils, filters, spark plugs, anodes, valves and a thorough check of the propellers and lower units.
It was clear that these people knew their job very well, and all we did was watch them in admiration.
The next day, while the workshop was normally closed, Kim sacrificed his free Saturday, a day he spends with his family, and opened the workshop.
He even made sure to restore the broken windshield wiper that we carried all the way from Scotland or so.
There are no words to describe the enormous help he provided us.
On Saturday afternoon we toured the capital of Greenland which admittedly made a very good impression on us.
Kim showed us around his small town and showed us many interesting places.
It was a wonderful day full of beautiful images, but most importantly our Rib and engines were absolutely ready to continue their long journey.
...keep Ribbing!
