Arctic Journey: Prins Christian Sund and Nanortalik

Prins Christian Sund (Prince Christian Sound) is a long, narrow channel that cuts off the southern tip of Greenland, much as the Strait of Magellan saves a vessel from sailing around Cape Horn. We awakened on July 23rd to find the Explorer navigating the sound in a light drizzle.

In places glaciers are still tumbling into the sea.

In this photo the glacial outwash is full of mud, and sharply divided from the seawater.

There are a number of twists and turns to navigate in the sound.

There is one small settlement along the route, Aappilattoq.

There was, of course, ice to admire. Later we would learn that only the week before several yachts had been trapped in the sound for five days.

For those of us who needed an occasional break from helping guide the Explorer there were two morning talks.

We arrived in Nanortalik, the southernmost settlement in Greenland, after lunch. There are about 1500 people in the town and 600-700 in nearby settlements.

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A light to moderate drizzle was falling as I took this photo from the shelter of the sun deck. We were told that the Explorer was the first cruise ship to reach Nanortalik this season because of the ice.

Several activities were scheduled for the afternoon from which we could pick and choose. Joan and I definitely wanted to attend the church choir and the schoolkids dancing, but we had a few minutes to visit the open air museum first. The fellow in charge was enthusiastic and animated, and we would have stayed longer (the museum consists of several different buildings), but the church singing was about to start. The only picture I took was of old and older ice skates.

We backtracked a couple of blocks in the light drizzle to the sole church in Nanortalik, Lutheran, of course, because Greenland came under Danish control in the early 18th Century. At this point Greenland has self-rule except in matters of foreign affairs, defense, finance, and the justice system. The country would prefer full independence but still receives a subsidy from Denmark that amounts to about half the government's budget, we were told.

The interior of the wooden church, built in 1916, was warm and friendly.

Let me offer you a one-minute video of one of the songs.

Two of the elders were dressed in the native Inuit costume. The woman certainly has the colorful advantage here.

After the choir finished it was time to walk up to the school for Kaffe-mik (coffee party, with tea or coffee and Greenlandic cake) while the schoolchildren performed folk dances for us. The dances seemed familiar, because they are derived from dances learned in centuries past from Dutch and Scottish whalers. Square dancers may recognize some steps. In this video, one girl is dressed in Inuit costume, but it's too big for her and she must continually pull it back up.

When the dances had finished Joan and I put our rain jackets back on (intermittent drizzle) and returned to the open air museum. Unfortunately, it was closed and locked, even though our program said it would be open until 7:00. After peering into windows of the museum buildings -- not much to see -- Joan and I began a walk through town.

We browsed in a grocery store to see what we might discover, and our main impression was that the prices were high. Most foodstuffs come from Denmark, and are delivered to Nanortalik by ship; this means that you have Scandinavian prices with a hefty transportation surcharge. We also visited the gift shop, and as a natural consequence of a high cost of living, it was on the expensive side as well. Items made from marine mammals (seals, whales, walrus, polar bears) aren't allowed into the US unless they have proper certification that the pieces are quite old, such as fossil ivory, and even then it's such a hassle that we were advised to refrain from such purchases.

Joan and I reboarded the Explorer, which pulled away from the dock about 7 o'clock. Here is a photo taken as we eased out of the harbor. Note the colorful buildings.

Originally the colors were practical, indicating the function of the building: commercial houses were red, hospitals were yellow, police stations were black, the telephone company was green, and fish factories were blue. Now the colors don't necessarily signify anything, but are a pleasing architectural tradition that enlivens a muted landscape.

There were fabulous pieces of ice in the fjord. Also the sky was slowly clearing.

After dinner there was a stunning sunset to observe.

Zooming in on the distance icebergs with binoculars created a view as if from another planet.

Tomorrow we would travel a thousand years into the past and visit the site of one of the early Norse settlements in Greenland.