JONAA East Greenland 2019 Expedition - Part One
ARCTIC TRAVEL / GREENLAND
Writer: Baldvin Albertsson
Photographs: David Godi, Vilborg Einarsdottir, Agust Runarsson, Daniel Bookham, Baldvin Albertsson, Kristjan Fridriksson
Video: David Godi
January 2020
It was the third of January, 2019. A new year lay ahead of me and I needed something for inspiration to help me figure out what I should do with my life this year.
What I needed was obvious, I needed a quest.
So, without getting too dramatic, a trip to my local bookstore sufficed in search of some nugget of inspiration to give me an idea of which path I should consider.
Director and writer, Baldvin Albertsson was a member of an “into-the-arctic-wilderness / let’s see what happens" expedition of JONAA connected people from four countries, who came together and made an adventure happen in July 2019. This is the first part of his tale from that 12-day journey, sailing 1200 km up and down the coast of southeast Greenland in absolute peace and quiet from the rest of the world.
Inspired by the world’s first travel blogger
The book store had just recovered from the busy Christmas shopping spree and had not that many books left, but thankfully I was not looking for Scandinavian “noir “ nor biographies about people in their 30s.
No, I needed a travel book, something to remind me of the outside world and how indifferent you, me and everyone is to the universe.
Sounds grim?
Well so is January in Iceland.
The book I chose that day after some careful evaluation was Travelogues: The Greatest traveler of his time 1892-1952.
I had heard the name of Burton Holmes about a year before. Burton was a Chicago born adventurer who traveled the world with his camera, coining the term “travelogue”. He financed his travels by selling tickets to his lectures which were based on his photography and also later, moving images that he shared with an audience all over the United States during the “roaring” 1920s.
He was basically the first travel blogger.
Burton Holmes traveled the world, that same world that you and I live and breathe in. But I found out that Holmes belonged to another era; a world that was.
That made me think.
Imagine, his first great voyage across the Atlantic took him months to prepare and plan how to get from Chicago to his first stop, Norway. Which at that time was very different from how it is now, required meticulous planning and took over 10 days for him to reach.
I could be in Norway before dinner if I wanted to.
Holmes crossed the Atlantic ocean and ten days later he jumped on land in Norway and had to rely on his research and planning. Holmes went to town, hired an interpreter, a local guide and set out to explore and experience, carefully documenting everything with his camera.
This lifestyle became his life’s work and he would travel further, to every corner of the world.
As technology developed he would return to Chicago and show his audience moving images of local people, like Bedouin horsemen, Japanese samurais. Buildings and landmarks like the Eiffel Tower or the Taj Mahal and European cities at their cultural peak in the world they belonged to, before the first war.
Before the world would try to annihilate itself twice.
One could imagine that Holmes saw every country in our world, and the reason I knew his name was because the first known footage of Reykjavík, my home town was shot by Holmes and his cameraman when they came by in 1926.
My version of Travelogues would have had a slightly different cover.
This would have been my cover. JONAA©Kristjan Fridriksson
“To travel is to possess the world”
With this quote from Holmes echoing in my mind, I soon got an idea which path I wanted 2019 to lead too.
But as I let my imagination wander I was soon filled with despair as I compared his time in Norway to when I went there to attend a wedding the previous year.
I imagined Burton Holmes' version, finding himself in an alien landscape, orientating, breathing the air with the wind pounding on his back as he was about to cross a misty mountain pass with Olaf, his faithful Norwegian guide. While in my version I would be circling the same roundabout in Oslo for the third time as my wife and my faithful A.I assistant, Siri yelled at me as I missed my exit for the fourth time!
Maybe that was my exit? “To travel is to have a flat tire and argue with car-rentals”
My conclusion was then leaning towards the sorry fact that I live in the present, where there is nothing left to explore, nothing to find. Except at the bottom of deep-sea trenches or traveling to distant stars
Had I been born in the wrong time in history? Did I miss all the exciting stuff?
What was it going to be in 2019? Tenerife or the Canary Islands?
January went by as I kept on reading “The Greatest traveler of his time”.
I had given up, but unconsciously I kept wishing for an adventure as I read about all the faraway oriental places shrouded in the mystery of the old world. There I sat, moping. Completely oblivious to the fact that the biggest old-world adventure of them all was geographically next door to me, 90 minutes away.
Long before the first sight of Greenland, there was a promise of an adventure ahead. JONAA@Kristjan Fridriksson
Wishing actually works
Almost to the day, exactly 7 months later I sat in Reykjavik airport rummaging through, what had been a “neatly packed and organized” luggage with a stealthy hint of panic on my face.
This was an unusually hot summer on Icelandic standards so I was already drenched with sweat. Which was no wonder as I was in full costume, like an arctic commando. Almost like I was planning to parachute into the Arctic and set up camp on the first iceberg I would see. Thankfully I did not parachute, as I was so hot I would probably have melted through the iceberg like an asteroid.
In the likely event, I would have to set up camp on an iceberg. At least I had “drilled” myself for that eventuality in my imagination.
The main reason for over-dressing was to save precious space in my luggage which gave passersby the impression of a very friendly invasion force, bound for an expedition into the unknown.
Before the fateful day of departure, there had been a meeting with the group where we had been given a briefing, like a ‘do and don’t list’ when it came to what to bring on an Arctic expedition.
I had socks, loads of socks, extra clothing, extra hat, extra socks, a toothbrush, and Snickers.
Loads of Snickers.
Each and every item packed and protected by a waterproof, plastic zip-lock bag.
Every piece of clothing, any garment, nothing could be made of cotton, no cotton allowed. A great opportunity for me in hindsight as I had never known the comfort of wearing silk underwear.
My trusty travel bag and every available pocket were filled with all kinds of clever things, flashlights, binoculars, socks, and even more Snickers.
I decided to start minimizing all movement so I would not faint from over-heating and save my strength for the ice and cold that awaited me on the other side of the strait.
Soon all members of the expedition had arrived and before we knew it we were waiting to board the Bombardier jet with Air Iceland Connect that would take us to our destination, a name I had known all my life but knew nothing of, Kulusuk.
As we sat in our Arctic commando outfits excitedly discussing our wild expectations I became aware of a large group of Chinese tourists who were also waiting for the same flight, dressed like they were on their way to Disney-land.
Trust me, we were the fools!
The last thing we did before boarding was most bizarre as we filled our water canteens in the unisex toilet in the boarding area before being airborne. Just one of those funny things you do when you are as stressed as you are excited. I have no idea why, as we had all been prepared and stocked on knowledge but still had no idea what to expect!
The flight out was beautiful, especially for someone born and raised in Reykjavík as the local airport is close to the central area of the city where I grew up. I looked down at all the little streets and all the little houses I was used to walking past every day. The jet then took a turn revealing an amazing view of the Snæfellsnes Peninsula on our right. Home to Snæfells glacier, the setting of Jules Verne's -Journey to the center of the earth.
Now I had a 90-minute flight to go through everything in my head.
I was a member of an expedition whose goal was to travel over 1200 km up and down along the east coast of Greenland in search of a certain mythical uncharted territory in the Skjoldungen region. The plan was to go back and forth in less than 12 days and be back for our flight home. It was no ordinary or organized tourist trip, but a group of people connected professionally or connected to Greenland through film and photography productions and JONAA, Journal of the North Atlantic & Arctic, who had come together and made this happen.
The Expedition Group
Expedition leaders. Arctic photographer and film location specialist, Kristjan Fridriksson and Inuit hunter and master ice-navigator, Tobias Ignatiussen.
Valgeir Magnusson, chairman of Pipar/TBWA & Ghostlamp. Chairman/founding partner at Nordic Angling.
East Greenland huntress, kindergarten teacher in Tasiilaq, Silpa Ignatiussen, Tobias’s wife.
Julius Nielsen, outstanding captain, navigator, guide and well known hunter with fience Maren Larsen.
Heimir Bjarnason, film editor and producer.
Vilborg Einarsdóttir, producer of the expedition and editor-in-chief of JONAA, Journal of the North Atlantic & Arctic.
Cinematographer at Tjarnargatan, Iceland, Einar Ólafur Eyland.
Enos Kristiansen, fosterson of Tobias and Silpa Ignatiussen, an upcoming captain and hunter at only 16 years of age.
Risk manager and marine insurance specialist at Allen Insurance, Maine, Daniel Bookham.
Film director & producer, Guðbjörg Sigurdardottir with TV host Kristjan Einar Kristjansson, business development specialist at Pipar/TBWA and founder/CEO of Nordic Angling.
Archaeologist and TV host, Christina Rein Seehusen with Agust Runarsson travel specialist, photographer and owner of Iceland Magic Travel.
Þorvarður Godi Valdimarsson, manager at production company Skjáskot, Iceland.
Filmmaker & photographer at Skjáskot, Iceland, Davíð Godi Þorvardarson.
The author of this article, director and playwright, Baldvin Albertsson.
No television, no toilets, and and no E-mails
Also, I find it important that when you talk about uncharted territory, that should imply to the reader the lack of all civilian infrastructure including, no mobile reception, no internet, no warm beds, television, no toilets, and no E-mails.
They had me at no E-mails!
So plenty of good news. No E-mails and stunning arctic nature everywhere.
The expedition would be led by a legendary East Greenland Inuit hunter and navigator and his “brother from another mother”, an Icelandic photographer who has spent more time photographing in Greenland than in his home in Iceland for the last two+ decades. The two had sailed all the way from Nuuk on Greenland’s west coast, past the southernmost tip of this world’s largest island and up the east coast to Tasiilaq in 2010. During that trip which took weeks, the hunter had told the photographer of myths passed to him from his grandfather, who got them from his grandfather and he from his, and the idea of following these tales on an expedition was born.
Nine years later here we were on our way to realizing their dream. Along came also the hunter’s crack team of local talent, who also happened to be “in the family”. No wonder as the total population of the Ammassalik region in East Greenland is around 4000 individuals in all.
Their job would be to navigate the boats through the icy waters of the coast and do their best to keep us alive from the unforgiving nature and be one step ahead of each hungry arctic predator, whether on land or in the deep sea
As I sat in my window seat thinking about Jules Verne it dawned on me. Might I have wished for more than I could handle? Something surpassing my modest “hobbit” bravery? You know, but as I thought about it, the less scary it got as the whole thing got more exciting again.
It’s East Greenland, not Mordor.
So basically, if you are reading this for advice on do’s and donts’ for an Arctic journey, please continue reading. I might repeat certain things, but in the end, that is for your benefit!
Disclaimer: The main reason I prefer milder climates to hot ones is the fact that if you are hot, you are hot.
But if you are cold, you just put on another layer.
“Watching me watching you…” A special mention was made on the size of the paws of this full grown male bear. He was the closest encounter of four bears that the photographer and the hunter had made on the 2010 trip. JONAA©Kristjan Fridriksson
“The do’s and don’ts”
Our first don’t was to make sure to not wear an ounce of cotton, the main reason being that if clothing made of cotton gets wet, it stays wet. So I wore wool, gore-tex and other synthetic clothing and underwear made of silk. Also, a clever ploy to confuse the local predators in case they would pick up my trail. As they would go looking for a bipedal plastic fork (wearing silk underwear) instead of poor me.
The list went on including good gloves, preferably with a nice grip, binoculars, reliable footwear, walking sticks, zippo’s and basically whatever the store I went to had for sale. Everything made perfect sense.
Having been briefed on the weather and the cold, the next topic was wildlife, the number one concern?
The polar bear.
To make sure we all understood the reality of this threat, we were shown the picture above. This was one of them clever polar bears that tried to trick one of the expedition leaders on a previous trip in 2010.
Since there are only around 700 of them in Greenland there was even a slight chance of meeting that particular polar bear again as we would be going through the same neighborhood as where he was last “glimpsed”
That followed with this picture below of the same polar bear charging at the photographer - who true to his profession could not resist taking “over the shoulder” pictures while running for his life to get to the boat.
We understood.
Photographed “over-the-shoulder-running”. JONAA©Kristjan Fridriksson
Being this day and age, we as a group decided on our arctic “joke etiquette”. The group as a whole agreed we could go along with loads, even annoying knock-knock jokes which were safe for the sake of mentality to agree upon, due to the lack of doors and wood for that matter in the Arctic. But we had to front the elephant in the room, which was on everybody’s mind and banish all polar bear jokes.
Not funny in the Arctic, because they are very dangerous, but thankfully a rare sight to see as there are not that many around. Also, they are supposed to be very intelligent and due to their harsh arctic upbringing, they come with a very limited sense of humor.
In the unlikely event of an encounter with this dangerous animal, the protocol was fairly simple. Stay away and notify the camp with your polar bear whistle, which was issued to each member of the expedition. And, blow that whistle under no other circumstance! Use the walkie to notify the camp of any other emergency.
Also important! Never leave camp unless in a group and always bring a walkie-talkie. Even when you leave to do those things most of us like to do in private, you bring a friend.
The Inuit in the group would have the proper measures to deal with any danger, armed with both intimate knowledge of nature and hunting rifles. And they had permission from authorities to shoot. Actually they had been asked to shoot any polar bear on sight, as the 25 animal quota needed to keep the East Greenland numbers in balance had not yet been met.
Other dangers included, but not limited to, avalanches, icebergs (imploding and exploding), ice-cold waters, slippery slopes and to always tread carefully as we would be miles away from any help if anything happened, from sprained ankles to life-threatening injuries. Still, the producer of the trip, armed with first aid knowledge, 20 years of extreme arctic locations experience and a huge waterproof pelican trunk, stocked with all kinds of everything one might find in a nice little clinic, told us that probably anything up to an appendix problem could be met on the trip. It might not be painless, but it could be met.
Two versions of a rescue plan had also been worked out with Air Greenland, should a mayday situation arise while up to 600 km from any other humans, helicopter or hospital.
During the briefing, my mind was already packing the bags, deciding on what to bring and such until they told us that every article that we would pack had to be protected in a zip-lock plastic bag, in the fairly likely event of a bag falling into the sea, as we would be sailing each day of the journey.
You get the polar bear, but nothing quite prepares you for this predator. JONAA©Kristjan Fridriksson
The Greenland air force
Feeling like I already had plenty to do, there was one final thing to prepare for, a very important thing. Something I could never have imagined, that in the country of rugged mountains, glaciers, dangerous waters filled with orcas and polar bears, our biggest worry would be - the mosquito.
Known as “GRAF”
The Greenland Air force.
I did bring mosquito nets, but I definitely did not prepare in an adequate manner for the scourge of the mosquito.
More on that later. Actually a whole chapter in Part two.
To be honest I didn’t know much about Greenland except for stories my grandfather had told me. He was a professional pilot and flew many years during the 60s for the same airline ferrying me across to Greenland .
At that time their biggest client was the U.S army which had bases scattered all along the rugged coastline of Greenland that covered the DEW line.
The “distant early warning line” that stretched from Alaska to Greenland.
During that time he mainly flew a Skymaster that had a cupola in the plane that they used to calculate their route by observing the stars. In his time in Greenland he saw all kinds of interesting things, even once managed to snap a photo of a polar bear.
The job also had it’s perks as he would often be invited for dinner with U.S serviceman and had access to the Base exchange stores where he once bought my father and his sister Christmas presents, in Thule of all places!
At that time probably the fanciest toy store in the North-Atlantic.
Arrival to Kulusuk. JONAA©Daniel Bookham
Familiar but different
The one thing I knew about my destination was the weather. Having lived most of my life in Iceland, I am used to all kinds of weather but something told me that what I had in store would be different.
Familiar, but different.
Having checked the forecast earlier it was known that we would be welcomed by heavy winds and rain which became very apparent as the plane started to descend. The bombardier jet really felt the wind and the clouds were thick and snowy white, with my imagination running wild as I tried to imagine the landscape beneath me.
Soon the clouds cleared a little bit and I saw this one piece of ice drifting in the Greenland sea like it was headed the same way as we were.
Clouds covered my view again briefly, then it cleared again and we saw little islands and inlets appear surrounded by the rough sea and the horizon dotted by ice. As we flew above ground I could see the terrain clearer, revealing little blobs of white, pale green and chunks of brown rocks as we were soon terra firma in the middle of the airstrip in Kulusuk.
The weather was harsh and the horizon clogged with clouds and fog, almost as if trying to tease us by covering the landscape with a foggy veil. We made our way from the plane over the primitive airstrip and into the tiny duty-free store of the tiny airport terminal in Kulusuk. The first thing I noticed was that all the signs were also in Danish which is not odd as Greenland is a part of the Kingdom of Denmark.
Which is interesting if you think about it in colonial terms! Denmark which sits at number 30 in European countries by area size, covers 44,493 km². Greenland (which is s not on the list as it is a colony) covers 2,166,086 km2. It makes one wonder which country should be the colony.
Our luggage was checked through the airport and was waiting to be on our bright red Air Greenland helicopter which would take us to our destination, Tasiilaq. According to plan, we were to be airborne shortly after our arrival but it was pretty obvious that the great adventure would have to wait a little bit for better weather.
We sat politely for a couple of hours at the airport waiting for the expected announcement that our helicopter ride would be delayed. We used the time to relax and have some Danish hot dogs and very chilled cans of Pepsi max which had expired their before date four months earlier.
There are nearly 60 thousand people who live in Greenland and around 270 souls in nearby Kulusuk.
The lack of travel information was not due to miscommunication but to the cute fact that there was only one person at the information desk that day as his colleague was sick at home.
Finally, Air Greenland came about, delayed the flight and soothed our disappointment by setting us up at both the best and the only hotel in town for the night! Usually, I would find a delayed flight disappointing but my adventure senses were tingling! Finally, we were on our way!
The rain was pouring and heavy winds battered the car as we traveled down dirt paths and could barely see our surroundings. A few minutes later we had arrived at the lovely Kulusuk hotel, surely an oasis in the arctic desert.
Hotel Kulusuk, an oasis between the airport and village. JONAA©Baldvin Albertsson
JONAA©Baldvin Albertsson
Even the buffet had a hint of adventure
When I entered the lobby the place kind of got me thinking of The Shining. But the absolutely adorable polar bear themed hotel carpet dissipated my fear. Rendering the urge to look up “murder” in danish irrelevant. But if you are wondering, a la Shining it would be “drom” in danish, a bit lackluster to be honest. And if we take it further, renisturod (dorutsiner) in East Greenlandic.
The hotel was packed with travelers, mainly our Chinese friends from Reykjavik airport and we were all happy that we were inside. The rooms were clean and charming, maybe not the fanciest but I had imagined myself sleeping on rocks that first night, so we were happy.
We had lunch at the hotel, a buffet with comfort food comprising of three main courses, chicken-noodles, soup, bread, salads, and herring. Comforting, a bit bland but did the works. Not very Burton “Holmesque” but the information given to me was that all food was cooked from a frozen Arctic-doomsday cache supposed to last at least six months.
Even the buffet had a hint of adventure.
The Chinese tourists whom we had traveled along with were thrilled at their stay and took photos of the Arctic blizzard from inside where they enjoyed the buffet and were for obvious reasons not as blazingly hot as the local Arctic-commandos were.
It did not take long to debate what to do with the evening ahead so we all put our gear on, Arctic commando style and out we went into the storm to visit the nearby town of Kulusuk, intended on walking.
But the great staff at the hotel were kind enough to arrange transport so we were escorted to Kulusuk 5-10 minutes’ drive from the hotel.
Because of the weather, we did not see much on our way except for raindrops and the dirt road ahead, but soon we started to see silhouettes of buildings, building up an impression of the town, enveloped by the storm and the silence of the white crosses that started popping up along the road at an alarming rate.
Where I come from we hear that in Greenland life is tough. Low income, no future, doom, gloom, murders, and suicides. The oddly placed cemetery next to the road “ringed” true to the low life expectancy associated with this part of the world at least.
One cross next to a road does imply a lot of possible scenarios to the “why and how”.
But many crosses give a different context when you arrive in a small town like Kulusuk where few of the nearly 300 souls who live above ground are to be seen. Most huddled inside, safe from the storm.
There we had it finally! Our first deployment on the expedition! Now we were exploring the town, quickly identifying the main landmarks, the local convenience store, harbor, oil tank and a church in case we would get lost.
We did get lost, but in thought, this place was so beautiful in its own right, even in the gloomy light under the howling wind, the houses were charming like they aged and matured in the arctic weather like fine wine.
Sightseeing in Kulusuk
We departed Iceland, prepared for any kind of weather on the expedition or so we thought. The colossal downpour that delayed us in Kulusuk for 24 hrs though was a bit more than expected and made one think of the upcoming days sailing in largely open boats. But that fortunately did not happen. All pictures in selection. JONAA©David Godi
Nobody was out except the Arctic dogs, chained outside like the wild, semi-tamed arctic animals they are.
We were warned not to come near them as they are extremely dangerous due to their upbringing in the unforgiving nature of Greenland. Their simple mantra, you won’t survive without being tough.
We saw these beautiful, darling little puppies seeking cover in the warmth of their mothers as they watched us curiously walk by. All the dogs looked the part, graceful and regal, yet rough with dirty spots. All had that stare, how they surveyed their surroundings. Each dog filled with character, almost like they could start talking there on the spot and tell us their amazing stories about life and death.
Soon we were so drenched that we took cover from the storm in the local convenience store. There we all agreed that we had underestimated the weather so we decided to learn by the locals and stock on extra clothing that had the seal of approval by the Inuit.
We found the staff friendly and polite and glimpsed a little bit of the locals as they dropped by at the store. Kids walked past and took a glance at us and smiled as they reached into the soda coolers for drinks and snacks.
I caught myself thinking about the high mortality rate in Kulusuk as the store atmosphere did not make me feel like we were in such a gloomy place, but we were definitely in Greenland.
Speaking of mortality rates. Members of the group were soon admiring the firearms on display in the shop, they were easy to reach and we all had a good laugh until we learned that you could buy a rifle without any kind of permit in Greenland.
Then we were told that the next police officer around was in nearby Tasiilaq, only a “short helicopter journey away”.
As we went back into the car we had a short fright as a local Arctic dog was reported on the loose but had no interest in us. We saw him and he did not even look at us back as he probably knew we had seen enough for now.
We were happy to get back to the warmth of the hotel.
The last pictures before leaving Kulusuk, grounded ice beneath the hotel. JONAA©Daniel Bookham
Early next morning we walked back to the airport and waited patiently until we heard the distant rumble of our ride to Tasiilaq. There it came hovering in the distance, the red, metallic body of the helicopter gleaming in the morning sun.
We boarded Air Greenland’s bright red Bell 212 and were finally on our way to Tasiilaq!
This helicopter ride sits comfortably in third place, according to Lonely Planet as the world’s most amazing helicopter journey. Being my first ride ever in a helicopter I would rank the ride as number one!
Thinking about Burton Holmes, this was was definitely more exciting than crossing those roundabouts in Oslo!
The view was amazing and the group gasped the whole way. Seeing this alien world with a bird’s eye view helped to remind everyone of where we were headed. Rugged, brown, ancient rocks, jagged mountains and this clear white glacial line at the end of the horizon.
No roads, no infrastructure, nothing.
A few odd icebergs floating below us and little patches of fog.
I found it was indeed a very short and sweet helicopter ride as we flew into the fjord and were greeted by the sight of the town of Tasiilaq, clotted with fog and illuminated in certain spots where the sun shone through, revealing all the picturesque houses.
We continued now on foot with our luggage and were welcomed by other members of the expedition that escorted us through town. They had been in Tasiilaq for a few days preparing.
Tasiilaq, the Metropolis of East Greenland
Arriving to the heliport on the outskirts of Tasiilaq, nestled between the town’s dump-site, the camping site and the area where our leader keeps his sled dog team during summer. JONAA©Agust Runarsson
Pictures above clockwise JONAA©Agust Runarsson, JONAA©Daniel Bookham and JONAA©Kristjan Fridriksson
The weather reminded me of Iceland, unpredictable as it changed swiftly to sunny and a bit too warm (again) for our Arctic clothing.
When you think of Kulusuk, it really matches what one thinks of populated centers in east Greenland. But in the Arctic context, Tasiilaq is like a metropolis with its roughly 2000 souls, hotel, two-story supermarket and a local pizza place (which was not open at the time I was there).
I needed one more article of clothing so in the local store I bought this neon-colored trap hat. A very clever purchase I thought in case I would get lost as I could probably be spotted by the neon glow from outer space.
The town is beautiful and feels like it’s cut in two by a miniature-valley in the middle so when you go further to check out the Super-market you walk up a hill, kind of reminded me of walking from Pigalle up to Montmartre. Close to the harbor an old 19th-century church, the “old” one watches over the silent fjord. Surrounded by ancient stones and the odd Danish cannon to let you know that this is actually a museum. A really cool museum.
As you could have guessed an old church on the East coast of Greenland is not a huge dome with arches but a beautiful frontier church built of imported wood. Inside you can learn about what the place used to be called.
Back in 1884, the Danes found the people of Ammassalik by surprise!
But they were probably not nearly as surprised as the locals, who at that time were not aware that there were any other human beings or other animals in their world.
It was just them in the beautiful Arctic world governed by the sun, the moon and the seasons.
Truly the people of the land.
Inside the museum, there are loads of things to see, ancient canoes, skins, clothing and statues of ancient spirits carved out of arctic-ivory. These little animated spirits, called tupilaqs in the local language, both good and evil that once defined this world that was.
With loads of things to see, what really stuck with me was the collection of photographs of the Ammasalik people who were photographed by Danish speaking aliens, who thankfully documented their culture and rituals.
What struck me were their eyes, that look.
Eyes that had seen everything I had not seen yet.
A world that was.
The Ammassalik museum, in the town’s old church. JONAA©Daniel Bookham
An insight into a world that was. JONAA©Agust Runarsson
What I did not know then was that I would soon, basically in minutes, be in the company of someone who knew this world that once was, and knew where it was to be found.
Before leaving the comfort of Iceland, my “not so dangerous semi-Arctic island” I was made sure that I would survive the expedition because of our local expedition leaders.
The expedition consisted of a total of 16 people with a fleet of three boats.
The Arctic flotilla consisted of a speed boat, great for scouting and quick runs, a smaller speed boat that hauled extra gasoline and provisions with a skeleton crew and then what I liked to call, The mother ship. Which was a larger boat with sleeping quarters and a roof. People would then be free to switch between boats during the voyage.
Our Inuit “mötley-crew” was lead by Inuit hunter and master navigator, Tobias Ignatiussen, our expedition leader and lifelong friend of photographer Kristjan Friðriksson and producer Vilborg Einarsdóttir, who were in the forefront of making this all happen.
His wife Silpa a very resourceful woman and his partner in crime.
Next, we had Julius Nielsen, the very charming English speaking Inuit captain whom I spent the most time with. Maren, his fiance, and Enos, Tobias’s teenage foster son who took care of the fuel boat whilst casually smoking his pipe.
We stood on the pier with all our luggage and had already started to adapt as we had formed our first human chain to get all the luggage on board, distributed according to the laws of physics between the three boats.
Most of our group assembled and ready to sail from Tasiilaq on the afternoon of day 2 in Greenland. Standing in front of the three boats that were to take us on the journey of a lifetime. JONAA@Agust Runarsson
Towards a world that is
I climbed on board the “large” boat. I did not know it then, but this relatively small and cozy boat would be, for a good chunk of my arctic expedition my floating home. Compact but big enough.
The bridge, where the captain steers the boat was a small space with a table and benches attached to the enclosing walls. Below the bridge, sleeping quarters for two people usually filled with luggage and other provisions. In the back, or as they would call it in nautical terms, the stern. There you could get some fresh air with great views and proximity to the deep, dark sea below.
I was kind of proud of myself that day, as I found out that I don’t get seasick!
That was a relief! As I am allergic to probably every terrestrial animal in the world, besides dinosaurs and not very adept at anything remotely “dangerous
So not being “seasick” for me was like an indication of things going in the right direction.
And the right direction it was!
Our boat swayed and moved up and down in rhythm with the majestic waves. The sky was grim and pale, with white clouds as far as I could see
Some passengers retired to the stern for fresh air and with their silent mantra on repeat, echoing in their minds “ don’t vomit on day one!”.
I found the whole thing exhilarating! Man against nature, that kind of thing!
Firm, familiar land behind me, in front, the vast expense of the world waiting to tell me if my wish that January morning seven months ago would come true.
On we went, breaking through the waves, slowly and surely. Even experiencing some “mild” engine problems in the big boat in the first hour of the expedition, but in Inuit terms, it was deemed as a “no biggie”.
As I peered my eyes to see further I saw the weather was shifting almost like on cue, the curtain moving. Lights up.
Slowly the horizon was unveiled before my eyes.
Almost like it wanted me to wait until I was really ready.
The world of adventure and experience I thought I had missed my chance at.
The world that is! ▢
Baldvin Albertsson is a director and writer, born and raised in Reykjavik, Iceland. When he is not trying to figure out the meaning of life he is either producing, directing or teaching.
He is currently working on the second part of “To travel is to possess the world” . Soon to be featured on JONAA.
Baldvin can be found on Twitter as @BaldvinAlberts
