Greenland, Many Icebergs, Two Muskoxen and the Midnight Sun

By Linda Bigelow, Guest Contributor

Linda Bigelow is a free-lance photographer who relishes off-the beaten-path travel. When not on the road, she and her husband Lee live in St. Jeannet, France. This photo story is from their trip to Greenland, June 4-23, 2009.  Text and photo credits:  Linda Bigelow.

Lee awakened me with one word: “Icebergs!”

We were two nights into a magical voyage on the Sarfaq Ittuk, a once-a-week ferry that serves Greenland’s West Coast. After departing from Nuuk, Greenland's capital, we stopped briefly at small settlements on the way to the town of Ilulissat and its famous ice fjord. We had crossed the Arctic Circle the day before and were definitely in the “land of the Midnight Sun.”

Clouds hung low over the Davis Strait and formed halos around the black granite, coastal mountains. The spotting of battleship-like icebergs signaled our approach to the ice fjord. Our captain skillfully wove a delicate path through the massive icebergs and the slush until we reached the mouth of the Ilulissat harbor. (photo right).

Ilulissat

In Ilulissat we stayed at a hostel (photo left), converted from a workers barracks and operated by World of Greenland, which had just reopened for the season. A bit frayed at the edges, it was nonetheless clean and functional. My husband Lee and I had a tiny room with bunks, table, two chairs, and small closet. Bathrooms and a well-equipped kitchen were down the hall. Perfect! We cooked nearly all our meals, as did the few other international guests, all of them friendly and considerate.

Ilulissat's number one attraction is the Kangerlua ice fjord (designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2004). (photo left). We hiked about 30 minutes over a granite ridge via well-marked trails to reach it. Crossing over the ridge, the ice fjord spreads out into an array of massive, blue-green-white, floating ice sculptures. Loud cracks, creaks, and groans split the air like thunder. Somewhere an iceberg has broken apart, releasing cascades of water and an avalanche of ice and slush into the fjord. (photo right: Walk to the Ice Fjord) People are warned not to walk along the edge of the fjord, because these events create mini-tsunamis. (A number of tourists have been swept away and drowned.)

From the top of the ridge, we saw the breakup of an iceberg, the powerful gush of water, the avalanches, and the mini-tsunami. We also heard the thunderous noise; and, best of all, recorded it. We were awestruck. Back at the hostel, the manager said these events are only seen about every six years. We were lucky. (photo right:  Greenland landscape.)

Icebergs That Hang Out in the Kangerlua Ice Fjord

Why do so many icebergs hang out in this particular ice fjord? Once upon a time the fjord was completely filled with a glacier. As it receded, it left a pile of moraine across the fjord’s mouth. The Kangerlua glacier - now receded 40 kilometers back into the Icecap - calves huge icebergs, most of which are trapped behind the moraine until they break apart enough to float piece by piece over the moraine and out to sea.

Some icebergs are stuck in the fjord for as long as two years before they are chipped down to size. Icebergs with jagged surfaces have recently broken off the glacier, whereas those with smooth surfaces have rolled over, exposing the bottom - smoothed or engraved by years of grinding against the bottom of the fjord. Icebergs of all sizes drift in the sea around Ilulissat, some originating from other fjords. It is a magnificent sight.

In town, colorful, wooden houses are constructed on the granite. Land is communally owned, and house plots are doled out by a committee. (photo left: Ilulissat houses, sled dogs on tethers and sleds stacked for summer storage). Roads are dusty or muddy. Staircases and pathways link most of the neighborhoods. We found no fresh food market, but we did find the public fish and game market. NO agriculture produces local fresh fruit and vegetables, for there is virtually no soil. People hunt and fish. A comprehensive supermarket sells frozen, canned, and a few fresh items, most of which are imported from Denmark. (photo right : Back to School!)

The Greenland Dog - a Rare Breed

Sled dogs have their own plots of land where they are tethered on long cords which stretch from their own wooden dog houses. One of the most memorable sounds is of a large group of sled dogs yipping and howling. Anything can set them off, but it is usually the thought of food. (photo right: Greenland dog.)

When not working, they are fed only about three times a week so they do not become accustomed to regular meals. When they work, they are dependent upon whatever the hunter has killed. This feast does not occur every day. Although not entirely tame, the dogs were also not aggressive.

We were advised to ignore them so they would not become accustomed to human friendliness. They ignored us as well. We understood that if a sled dog travels below the Arctic Circle, it can not return, for fear of its bringing disease with it. Additionally, “foreign” dogs are not allowed. Unfortunately for this beautiful breed, it is gradually being replaced by the snow mobile, which does not need fuel all year round.  (photo left: another Greenland dog.)

Flowers that bloom in the cold

When we first arrived in Ilulissat, the countryside itself was bleak. The only colors were the blazes of red, yellow, blue, orange painted on rocks to identify the different trails. With each day, however, we would notice another tiny new flower popping up. In some protected places, there were many miniature Arctic versions of their temperate counterparts. (Photo left:  Early coral root  or corallorhiza trifida); photo right: Lapland Rosebay or Rhododendron lapponicum). We followed one wet trail across the tundra. We jumped from one tuft of matted grass to another to proceed. Temperatures ranged from just above freezing to 12 degrees Centigrade. The day after we arrived it snowed lightly. By the time we departed Ilulissat, many flowers were blooming, and we walked with our jackets unzipped.

Taking in the Midnight Sun

The Midnight Sun was an amazing experience. Eye masks were absolutely essential to sleep at “night”. There was never need to turn on a light. People strolled at any time of day. A telephone pole outside the hostel became a sundial, as the sun circled overhead. One evening we determined to stay up until midnight, walk to a commanding point, and take some photos.

It was very, very cold, despite the sunshine, but we found a nice point of land near the Illulissat hospital which overlooked the sea, icebergs, and the town. (photo left: Illulissat harbor and  its icebergs in the Midnight Sun; photo right: Illulissat Hospital.) 

Despite all the wondrous attractions of Ilulissat, there were two things we could not do or see there. Muskoxen - but they were nowhere in the neighborhood. And we wanted to walk on the Icecap, but the nearest place was not yet accessible. Normally, visitors could travel by fishing boat up a more northern fjord to an Ice camp and then go by helicopter to a point on the Icecap. This year, however, the sea ice was late in melting from the fjord, and boats could not get to the Ice camp. Hiring a helicopter from Ilulissat for such a trip would be prohibitively expensive.  (Photo left: watch out for musk ox sign).

To the Ice Cap

So we changed our itinerary and flew to Kangerlussuaq, a relic of an airbase now used as a way point for Europeans going to Greenland. (Photo left: plane to Kangerlussuaq). The town is virtually nonexistent, but what is there offers a means to search for muskoxen and walk on the Icecap. We hiked to the area where “everyone” sees muskoxen, but despite a full day off-trail we found only their hoof-prints, their droppings, and bits of their fur clinging to low bushes. We did finally see two of these animals on the excursion to the Icecap. (Photo right).

We joined a group of about ten others and piled into a boxy, covered truck bed fitted with large windows, bus seats, and very large tires. The drive was a fairyland of muted beige, blue, gray fields and lakes with a backdrop of craggy ice. The rutted road followed the edge of the Russell glacier until we stopped at the base of a dark gray, uninviting moraine. Here we followed a gravel trail up and over the moraine and down onto the Icecap. What a thrill!(Photo left: tour group and truck.)

I could hardly believe my feet were on the Icecap. It was exhilarating. I expected to slip and fall down, but no, the ice crystals are so large, that it is not slippery. The ice crunched under my feet, and there were small pools of water. The ice is dirty and not smooth, but it extends forever and there is a certain, raw beauty about it. We were told that it is white, clean and smooth about 25 kilometers farther in. There is also a scientific station at the Icecap’s summit (3238 meters high) where scientists work in under-ice laboratories. I would love to see it someday.  (Photo left:  Lee and Linda Bigelow on the Icecap;  photo right: close-up of the ice.)

Why do so many icebergs hang out in this particular ice fjord? Once upon a time the fjord was completely filled with a glacier. As it receded, it left a pile of moraine across the fjord’s mouth. The Kangerlua glacier - now receded 40 kilometers back into the Icecap - calves huge icebergs, most of which are trapped behind the moraine until they break apart enough to float piece by piece over the moraine and out to sea.

Some icebergs are stuck in the fjord for as long as two years before they are chipped down to size. Icebergs with jagged surfaces have recently broken off the glacier, whereas those with smooth surfaces have rolled over, exposing the bottom - smoothed or engraved by years of grinding against the bottom of the fjord. Icebergs of all sizes drift in the sea around Ilulissat, some originating from other fjords. It is a magnificent sight.

In town, colorful, wooden houses are constructed on the granite. Land is communally owned, and house plots are doled out by a committee. (photo left: Ilulissat houses, sled dogs on tethers and sleds stacked for summer storage). Roads are dusty or muddy. Staircases and pathways link most of the neighborhoods. We found no fresh food market, but we did find the public fish and game market. NO agriculture produces local fresh fruit and vegetables, for there is virtually no soil. People hunt and fish. A comprehensive supermarket sells frozen, canned, and a few fresh items, most of which are imported from Denmark. (photo right : Back to School!)

The Greenland Dog - a Rare Breed

Sled dogs have their own plots of land where they are tethered on long cords which stretch from their own wooden dog houses. One of the most memorable sounds is of a large group of sled dogs yipping and howling. Anything can set them off, but it is usually the thought of food. (photo right: Greenland dog.)

When not working, they are fed only about three times a week so they do not become accustomed to regular meals. When they work, they are dependent upon whatever the hunter has killed. This feast does not occur every day. Although not entirely tame, the dogs were also not aggressive.

We were advised to ignore them so they would not become accustomed to human friendliness. They ignored us as well. We understood that if a sled dog travels below the Arctic Circle, it can not return, for fear of its bringing disease with it. Additionally, “foreign” dogs are not allowed. Unfortunately for this beautiful breed, it is gradually being replaced by the snow mobile, which does not need fuel all year round.  (photo left: another Greenland dog.)

Flowers that bloom in the cold

When we first arrived in Ilulissat, the countryside itself was bleak. The only colors were the blazes of red, yellow, blue, orange painted on rocks to identify the different trails. With each day, however, we would notice another tiny new flower popping up. In some protected places, there were many miniature Arctic versions of their temperate counterparts. (Photo left:  Early coral root  or corallorhiza trifida); photo right: Lapland Rosebay or Rhododendron lapponicum). We followed one wet trail across the tundra. We jumped from one tuft of matted grass to another to proceed. Temperatures ranged from just above freezing to 12 degrees Centigrade. The day after we arrived it snowed lightly. By the time we departed Ilulissat, many flowers were blooming, and we walked with our jackets unzipped.

Taking in the Midnight Sun

The Midnight Sun was an amazing experience. Eye masks were absolutely essential to sleep at “night”. There was never need to turn on a light. People strolled at any time of day. A telephone pole outside the hostel became a sundial, as the sun circled overhead. One evening we determined to stay up until midnight, walk to a commanding point, and take some photos.

It was very, very cold, despite the sunshine, but we found a nice point of land near the Illulissat hospital which overlooked the sea, icebergs, and the town. (photo left: Illulissat harbor and  its icebergs in the Midnight Sun; photo right: Illulissat Hospital.) 

Despite all the wondrous attractions of Ilulissat, there were two things we could not do or see there. Muskoxen - but they were nowhere in the neighborhood. And we wanted to walk on the Icecap, but the nearest place was not yet accessible. Normally, visitors could travel by fishing boat up a more northern fjord to an Ice camp and then go by helicopter to a point on the Icecap. This year, however, the sea ice was late in melting from the fjord, and boats could not get to the Ice camp. Hiring a helicopter from Ilulissat for such a trip would be prohibitively expensive.  (Photo left: watch out for musk ox sign).

To the Ice Cap

So we changed our itinerary and flew to Kangerlussuaq, a relic of an airbase now used as a way point for Europeans going to Greenland. (Photo left: plane to Kangerlussuaq). The town is virtually nonexistent, but what is there offers a means to search for muskoxen and walk on the Icecap. We hiked to the area where “everyone” sees muskoxen, but despite a full day off-trail we found only their hoof-prints, their droppings, and bits of their fur clinging to low bushes. We did finally see two of these animals on the excursion to the Icecap. (Photo right).

We joined a group of about ten others and piled into a boxy, covered truck bed fitted with large windows, bus seats, and very large tires. The drive was a fairyland of muted beige, blue, gray fields and lakes with a backdrop of craggy ice. The rutted road followed the edge of the Russell glacier until we stopped at the base of a dark gray, uninviting moraine. Here we followed a gravel trail up and over the moraine and down onto the Icecap. What a thrill!(Photo left: tour group and truck.)

I could hardly believe my feet were on the Icecap. It was exhilarating. I expected to slip and fall down, but no, the ice crystals are so large, that it is not slippery. The ice crunched under my feet, and there were small pools of water. The ice is dirty and not smooth, but it extends forever and there is a certain, raw beauty about it. We were told that it is white, clean and smooth about 25 kilometers farther in. There is also a scientific station at the Icecap’s summit (3238 meters high) where scientists work in under-ice laboratories. I would love to see it someday.  (Photo left:  Lee and Linda Bigelow on the Icecap;  photo right: close-up of the ice.)