On passage to Unartoq, Monday, 24th July 2023
On passage southwards from Qaqortoq, where we had stopped for a quick restocking of our provisions, we wave goodbye to our two days of summer and return to the frost of the fog. The temperature drops dramatically as soon as the sea-level clouds surround us, and the air instantly has a palpable bite to it. We feel slingshot into the winter. The Arctic and subarctic are lands of sudden and drastic changes, not the whereabouts of middle ground or averages.
We have learned to distinguish nuances and variations of fog and mist on our Atlantic crossing and during our time here, and the suddenness it can descend and lift with. After navigating for a good while in ever-thickening murk, the sun we left behind a few hours ago in Qaqortoq feels like just a faraway echo.
Enveloped in viscous vapour as thick as clotted cream, we grope our way towards our anchorage for the night. The fluorescent green of the radar warns of an iceberg in the narrow mouth of the bay, so we move with caution. Alex is on the helm, and I start making my way forward to the bow to help eyeball our way around the ice and through the channel.
All of a sudden, the fog develops structure and texture straight ahead, a tinge of blue in the achromatic gloom. A great wall of ice looms out of the fog. It springs up in front of us and stretches far left and right. We can just make out the ends on either side when we are close. Around the berg the water is peppered with shattered ice — growlers, bergy bits and brash. It looks as if an ogre had taken a sledgehammer and rained blows on the berg only to give up halfway and admit defeat against the bulk of the ice. This berg is not a stable fellow.
Filled with awe and wonder, we swing round and sail alongside this imposing fragment of a glacier that might have traveled from afar before coming to rest against this shore. Soon we make out the shore, emerging indistinctly beyond the brash. No way through here. We have already made our mind up not to try and steal past an iceberg this imposing to enter the shallow cove, as we might find ourselves trapped in there tomorrow morning with no way out for days to come.
So we take our leave and carry on towards Unartoq, an island further inshore in an arm of the neighbouring Alluitsoq Fjord (Lichtenau Fjord). There we will look for Greenland’s only (known?) hot springs!
Angie