Christoffer Petersen blog

Walking along the black sands I saw many craters in the sand. I could feel my feet pushing through the crust but it took me a while to figure out that ice was the cause of it. Ice that had once detonated from the side of a berg had been washed up and deposited on the beach by the tide. The weight of the ice broke through the hard but thin crust of sand on the beach. Before I saw the clumps of ice I found craters with dark patches; I later realised that this was melt-water where the ice had been.

The midges were rather hungry here and, seeing as it was a beautiful day for a paddle, I saw no reason to linger.

Further along the coast was the hunting camp of Ikorfat. The remains of one cabin, a turf-built and wooden beam construction, took longer to find as I was more than a little preoccupied with the newer cabin with B number 1240 (B for “bolig”). All houses in Uummannaq area are given a B number, including the tiny water stations dotted around the towns and settlements. B-1240 is a classic example of a well-used permanent camping cabin with an all purpose room for cooking and sleeping in. I think they see more use in the winter months as hunters harness their sledge dogs outside, seeking shelter from the elements on the inside. I was also more interested in sleeping inside my tent – we had become well used to one another by now – but the inside of the cabin was worth checking out. A big stone in front of the door suggested no one was home and that foxes were not welcome!

Time doesn’t quite stand still within the cabin. It is possible to move between the ages, back and forth, as one explores the items left behind and some left ready for the next occupants. Coffee-filter papers had been used to write messages, while the occasional piece of licorice testified to the effectiveness of the stone door-stop. A tea-towel hung over the petroleum stove, the bed boards ready, hunters could arrive any minute and find it just as they left it.

Time had already stopped for me that summer as the sun circled continuously about the horizon and I was quite taken with the alarm clock hanging from the curtain rail, ornamented by the dried curlew (?) head and a small, dried skin bag. Quite taken until I peered out of the window and checked out the front yard. When real-estate agents talk about “location, location, location”, I wonder if they were thinking about Ikorfat?

Back outside, I wandered back and forth for hours. Just wandering, not feeling the need to go anywhere or do anything but wander, look, listen and breathe deep the sea air tempered with the freshness of glacial ice.

I couldn’t get enough of this place. It was full of rich finds and stories drifting through the tall grass about the tent, between the cracks in the walls of the cabin and among the pebbles eroded by the sea and tumbling ice. As the icebergs crashed and boomed at incalculable intervals, I wandered some more.

Once, in Uummannaq, I had the chance to buy Greenlandic chicken – seagull, 20,- dkk per gull. I have yet to taste one but imagine they will be a bit … well, like chicken. This fella had been enjoyed by a fox, perhaps, as his footprints showed where he or she had loitered about the camp.

It was damn fine here and I crawled into my pup-tent and fell asleep to iceberg artillery in the near and far.

Chris

Original post with comments.

And, in other news, the Kickstarter campaign for Afua, my first collaborative work, ends tomorrow. Click here if you’re curious. 😉

From my diary:

It is amazing how much I got out of speaking Greenlandic yesterday. It is important to note that Niaqornat has overwhelmingly shown/revealed/exceeded my cultural goals for the expedition. I got by on my level of Greenlandic – with lots of small confusions, but I got by. I sorted it almost without Danish. In fact, Danish did not help one bit! I got a good feeling about the settlement and deliberately left good gear there almost just to prove that I can.I must be sure to mention Niaqornat in this way on my blog, in my trip report. I think the Sermitsiaq article might have helped. Malene certainly saw it, followed the link and recognised me as I walked into their house. Cool, eh? Yes, Niaqornat has been a success, but I might be here a while.

Venturing further [away from the tent], looking for a place to shit, I saw a model turf house not ten metres from my tent. Five metres beyond that are the foundations of an original dwelling – I must have been tired or preoccupied with the beach not to notice them yesterday. I wondered at the Greenlandic hunters who called this place Tuperssussat- the camping place. I hoped their spirits would watch over me when I left this place as the breakers were going to make mincemeat of my folding kayak.

I actually left from the main beach in the settlement itself and spent a long time talking with a hunter who was very familiar with kayaks and a brother to my next-door neighbour in Uummannaq. We talked – in Greenlandic – about the differences between our kayaks and I was introduced to his qajaq that was parked not far from my own. As we talked he was very patient with my stumbling Greenlandic. At the same time he was polishing a polar bear skull.

Interestingly, the cruise ship had entered the bay and was shuttling tourists into Niaqornat on zodiacs. They were gathering on the main beach to see a seal being butchered. Niaqornat has a good relationship with the cruise ships and I was pleased to see the positive response they created among the tourists.

It was time to move on though and I thanked the hunter before pushing off and paddling on. I paddled along the coast, enjoying the long stretches of beach, a truly beautiful coastline and one I had not experienced before. I made a rough landing in light surf and bent the rear deck strut as I exited the cockpit a little too quickly. The Kodiak is a sturdy boat but, as Folbot themselves say, it is not intended for surf and, although light, the waves were interesting enough to force me to move a little quickly. It was a beautiful place to bend the boat though!

As I pitched camp on a rather open expanse of green, the midges found me and we had some discussion as to how long I was going to remain outside the tent. Luckily a breeze picked up and I enjoyed exploring the black sandy beach. A fox challenged me but I just couldn’t get an eye on him. I retreated, content, into my portable home.

Chris

Original post with comments.

This post  – see original link below – was supposed to open with a short and sleepy video diary. But it doesn’t seem to work. You’re not missing much! 😉 So we’ll just move on. And yet… it works! Might not play in your inbox. But really… not missing much!

I didn’t do much on this day beyond enjoying the beach, the waves and the bergs, stranded like me. Melting bergy-bits for water I spent some time adjusting the tent for wet weather.

As usual, sleep got the better of me once I realised that I was in no danger of flooding. I have an sad case of paranoia whenever I camp somewhere flat. I just imagine there is an iceberg out there with my name on it!

The scraggly beard I was working on helped with the freckles! Can’t do much about the balding though.

Chris

Original post with comments.

I had seen a lot of Capelin during the previous weeks on the water and it was interesting to see them drying in Niaqornat. Quite often I came across a small island where Capelin were laid out to dry in the sun. You can only do that when there are no dogs around to eat them though!

The sledges were not needed much this winter as the sea ice never really came. I left my own sledge behind in Uummannaq as it could not come with us to Qaanaaq. There is something special about sledges waiting patiently for the ice to come each year, and something even more special in hearing the creak of the runners across the ice. These sledges were quite still despite the wind blowing through the netting.

I did not need to sleep on the school house floor as I pitched my tent on the black sands of Niaqornat’s beaches instead. I did meet a colleague of mine in the settlement and enjoyed catching up on Nuka’s news from the summer.

Hanging on this rack you can see Lumpsucker, the lighter fish drying on the left and what I think is shark meat drying on the right. The dried lumpsucker is pretty damn good … tastes like chicken!

I didn’t take many photos of people during the expedition as I really didn’t want to intrude on people’s lives. These two kids were some of the few exceptions. It was the mohawk that got me!

On the other hand, I took loads of photos of dogs and these two pups play-fighting caught my attention.

I didn’t see any other kayaks on the water but my own. I think there were others around but no Greenlandic kayakers that I was aware of. Having now moved to Qaanaaq I can see how much the use of kayaks has become limited to recreation and competition in the Uummannaq area. It has been ten years or so for some hunters since they last caught a narwhal from a kayak in Uummannaq. In Qaanaaq, however, kayaks are lashed to boats and ready to be used whenever whales are sighted. They have to hunt from kayaks up here and it makes for a totally different role that the kayak plays in the more traditional hunting communities.

Musk oxen are pretty eh? And this one was pretty dead too!

Having parked the kayak I then moved all my gear over to one of the more amazing campsites I found during the expedition. Climbing up a thin, slippery, wooden staircase I walked up and over a little knoll before finding a black beach, all for myself.

As the rain continued and the wind blasted the waves and bergs into the shore I set up the tent and set about finding some ice for my coffee, food and water supply.

The waves had washed many bergy bits up onto the sand and it was a simple matter of collecting them to thaw out later.

Wet as it was I couldn’t resist wandering up and down the beach, exploring. It was an overcast day and yet full of exciting sights and revelations, not least the area I was sleeping in. For once my tent was clean and I crawled in to sleep … for quite some time.

Chris

The original post with comments has mysteriously disappeared. Thank goodness for backups! 🙂

P.S.

The Kickstarter campaign for Afua, my first collaborative work, is going well. We’re at 97% funding, and just five days to go. Talk about a nailbiter! 🙂

From my diary:

I just realised, had I gone ahead with my original plan I would have met this weather in Illorsuit. I would have been severly screwed and stranded as no jolle (dinghy) would risk running me over to Niaqornat in this. I would also have been very committed to the crossing when the weather calmed down. Not good. Funny how fate/decisions/uncommon good luck play a role, for the good this time, in our lives. Thank god I made the decisions regarding the sat phone!

These thoughts were lazily drifting through my mind as we ploughed through, up and over the waves in the hotel boat sailing to Niaqornat. Arne had arranged for me to sail with the TeleGreenland charter and my boat and gear was stowed amongst their drills, rigging equipment and assorted strong-boxes. We sat inside and chatted while I wondered if I was indeed going to throw up any time soon. It was a little rough out.

Arriving in Niaqornat a few hours later, I couldn’t have planned a better introduction. It wasn’t all that normal for the TeleGreenland guys to unload a kayak so we started to draw a little attention. As the boat sailed away we started to haul gear around. As the helicopter had been cancelled due to the winds it seemed likely that all the gear, including new receiving dishes for the mast, would have to be man-hauled up the mountainside. I volunteered to help, it was the least I could do.

My first impressions of Niaqornat were thus obscured a little as I got involved with moving stuff. I was aware though that several fisherman were curious about my boat and they chatted around it before several of them agreed to help move stuff up the mountain. They were paid to do so.

On the way up to the mast one must first pass through the settlement cemetary. Although I can’t imgaine how tough it would be to carry one’s loved-one in a coffin up the side of a mountain, nor can I imagine a more beautiful resting place; close to nature and with a good view of whales, icebergs, and activity on the water and ice.

The mast was a little further up the hill. On reaching it I was given a wonderful bird’s-eye-view of the settlement and could really begin to appreciate how different it was to any of the other settlements in Uummannaq. Click on the picture below to get a bigger image of Niaqornat!

The water on both sides of the settlement has previously caused problems with flooding, but it makes very interesting geography!

While the TeleGreenland crew worked on the mast I gave my thanks and left them to it. They were more than a bit concerned that I was going to paddle back through the weather and wanted me to consider coming back on the boat with them. I assured them i would give it some thought. Back in Niaqornat I chatted with three of the local fishermen. In my pidgin Greenlandic, amid a lot of smiles, we talked about the weather and my journey. They made it clear that it would not be smart to paddle and I wholeheartedly agreed. They suggested I could get a more recent weather update from the Post Office.

Here my Greenlandic was put to the test, or rather, my Greenlandic was interpreted, correctly, with a heavy dose of common sense thrown in. I introduced myself to the lady behind the counter and asked for a weather report. Instead of this, after a good deal of conversation that I didn’t follow, I realised she was organising for me to sleep on the school house floor. Clearly, nobody thought I was going anywhere this day! The nice thing was that she was so very accommodating and had anticipated my needs.

At that moment a European woman entered the Post Office and we got talking. I just thought she must be a teacher but it turned out that she and her colleague were artists in residence spending a few months in Niaqornat. I was quickly invited in for coffee and made to feel very welcome. I was wondering over my very positive reception in Niaqornat and realised, on seeing the laptop in their house, that the Sermitsiaq article had been seen by more than a few people and I was “known” to be paddling in the area. Sabine and Malene were working with the medium of film and natural resources and it was very cosy to be drinking coffee out of the wind and rain surrounded by interesting art projects made of bones, seaweed, skulls and stones. It was also from the kitchen table in their house that I saw my first and only glimpse of a pod of whales swimming past the settlement. Malene’s work can be seen here.

After a few hours of chatting I decided I had to make some decisions. With the offer of yet another floor to sleep on I returned to the weather to explore a bit more with my camera. I was bumping into kids I knew and hunters I had seen several times in Uummannaq. One guy was keen for me to move my kayak. He explained that the dogs would be able to get at it as long as it was on the ground, so he helped me heave it up onto the plastic fishing bins full of nets and gear. I was really pleased at the amount I was communicating and I began to feel very much at ease in Niaqornat, that and an overwhelming sense of the expedition finally coming to life and achieving the goals I had hoped for. Here I was, conversing purely in Greenlandic, being understood and, more to the point, being helped by the locals.

As I wandered about the settlement I found the usual hunting and fishing paraphernalia and yet I looked at the sledges and nets, outboards and buoys with fresh eyes. The down-time in Uummannaq had done me good and the lift up to Niaqornat had lifted the weight of “timing” from my mind. I could afford to spend a few days in the settlement, giving the weather time to blow itself out.

Like all the other settlements there are plenty of Greenlandic dogs dotted about the place. One unfortunate puppy had been enjoying a carton of tomato juice stolen from the dump. He had his head so far into it that he could not pull it off. Muffled cries of distress could be heard as he bumped into oil drums and stuff in his desperation. I took hold of the carton and pulled it off his head, not realising just how tight it was his whole body lifted a foot off the ground before he promptly returned to earth, free of his ketchupy burden.

Still chuckling I spent the next few hours sitting on the beach cracking open stones in my search for fossils.

Yeah, life was good.

Chris

Original post with comments.

Hanging around in Uummannaq I spent some quality time with different people that I knew from work, not least Makkak and Sammu. Invited for pre-holidays kaffemik (a Greenlandic party to celebrate birthdays, confirmations, weddings and other things) I quickly accepted knowing that the brilliant cakes and coffee would prepare me for the next leg of the expedition. Between coffees, Saamu told me that I was in Sermitsiaq, one of two national newspapers in Greenland. A journalist had seemingly found the expedition Facebook page and published an article on Sermitsiaq’s web page. Curious, I checked it out on the internet. It was interesting that they focused on my change of plans – a tiny bit of drama perhaps – but little did I realise how much this one article was going to change the shape of the expedition from that point on.

The following day, the 12th of July, I found myself in familiar surroundings, Hr. Mortensen’s café, psyching myself up with a hot meal before paddling off towards Qaarsut, the next settlement on my journey. I took the time to write in my journal while the Philipino and Thai staff served the basic meal of the day. Hr. Mortensens is a popular place to eat for fisherman etc.. I’d eaten here many times before and after finishing yet another coffee, decided I couldn’t delay any longer.

Having repacked and streamlined the boat I set off for what I thought would be a straightforward crossing. Sure, it was a bit breezy but only when I poked my nose out beyond the point of Spraglebugten did I get hit with the full force of the wind and start to encounter interesting waves. For 35 minutes I battled against the wind heading for the shelter of Uummannaq harbour. It was a bouncy and wet paddle to say the least. The Folbot Kodiak handled it well, as usual, and I pulled into the harbour to be met by Arne of Hotel Uummannaq, a little surprised to see me return so soon – the waves and wind were almost non-existent inside the harbour.

Arne mentioned that his boat was being chartered to Niaqornat early the following morning and that I could hitch a lift. It would mean leapfrogging Qaarsut and going straight to my ultimate destination: the settlement of Niaqornat. It sounded like a good plan, and would be as if I had arrived from Illorsuit – as per my original intention.

Things were turning out well and as the wind picked up I was hearing reports of friends who had also dropped Illorsuit from their itinerary due to bad weather – and they were in boats. I could risk being stuck in Niaqornat for a few days, but it was a risk worth taking – of all the settlements in Uummannaq fjord, Niaqornat was the only one I had never visited.

Having packed everything I quickly needed a place to sleep and was very grateful to sleep in a real bed in Birthe’s guest room. Birthe, a colleague of Jane’s at the hospital, had been following the expedition with interest and it was great to chat over even more coffee and shower one last time!

Chris

Original post with comments.