East Greenland: Tinit and Kayaking

August 16th was a split day at Natural Habitat Adventure's base camp in Greenland. In the morning our group took a short but chilly zodiac ride to the small town of Tinit and explored.

Two sled dogs were chained at the spot where we landed, not to be petted. They had no work to do until the was solidly iced again; some fish and seal had been laid nearby for their food.

The first activity was hiking. One group took a longer hike, while Joan and I joined the group taking a short uphill hike followed by a walk through town. At the top of the hill was the town cemetery and a panoramic view. This photo is looking back towards the town. There's plenty of ice in the Sermilik fjord in the right of the picture.

This photo gazes more northerly and up the fjord.

A closer look from the tip of the cemetery. I'm standing close to a picnic table, and a memorial cross for all the hunters who never came back. The ground here is stony, so burials are conducted by stacking rocks.

We returned to the lower levels and Julius, a Tinit native and our trilingual staff member (Greenlandic, Danish, English), pointed out the civic hall, water tank, school/church, and other buildings. Joan purchased a pair of pig-bone earrings and a necklace carved in the shape of a ptarmigan, a powerful bird in the East Greenlandic tradition. We later caught up with the man who carved these pieces, and he agreed to a photo.

A stroll closer to the shore.

Julius took us to visit the home of his in-laws once our group had completely reassembled. We greeted by a spread of cookies, coffee and tea, and settled in for a good chat. The photos of family members adorned the walls, and one of the adopted daughters made a brief appearance. Adoption is a Greenlandic tradition, and Julius' in-laws intend to continue adopting as long as they are able.

 Julius' father-in-law had recently been at one of his cabins overlooking the fjord, and saw a polar bear walk by, not for the first time. His cabin appears to be on a favorite route for the bears to reach the fjord.

Julius demonstrated the technique needed to use an ulu, the traditional all-purpose knife.

Our guide Katie modeled some of the handiwork of the family. Julius' mother-in-law said her recent work wasn't her best, due to aging eyesight, but it looked astonishingly accurate to us. 

Some patterns were made with beads and some with dyed sealskin slices.

When Julius' father-in-law was asked what the biggest change he had seen was, he said it was the decline of hunting. Late formation of ice in the fjords means that the seals either arrive later or bypass Tinit for locations further north, and earlier melting of the ice means the time that dogsleds can be used for hunting has shrunk. An additional injury to the traditional means of earning a living is that the fish species in the fjord are changing.

Afterwards we spent a few minutes investigating the village grocery. "Grocery" is an inadequate term; it was truly a general store with not only foodstuffs but clothing, toys, and equipment. The cargo freighters from Denmark cannot navigate the winter ice between November and April, so stock become sparse as that season wears on.

Our group returned to base camp for lunch and a long afternoon of kayaking.

Joan took a moment to greet our watchdogs, two of Julius' sled dogs whose loud warnings deter polar bears from entering the camp, as does an electric fence wire around the perimeter. This pair is more socialized than most sled dogs, and could be approached, carefully.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, Joan and I were still wary of kayaking, but were willing to give it yet another try. Our group didn't kayak directly from camp because the iceberg-rich destination was too far away. We rode in zodiacs to a starting point, where the kayaks had earlier been parked. From there we were to paddle to a resting spot and then on through the ice formations.

The first kayaking leg had little to recommend it: there was hardly any ice, and the modest tide was flowing against us. It was a workout just to reach the resting spot, which, to us, would have been a much better starting point. As before, keeping up with the group was frustrating. Helpful hints weren't helpful, such as, "synchronize your paddling," that is, both on the left side then on the right side, while unsynchronized paddlers were pulling away from us. Joan even uttered her first and only curse word of the trip on this outing. At least she had a longer paddle and was no longer drenched by water dripping off the blade.

When we reached the rest stop,

Joan and I had had enough, and we weren't the only ones. Another pair bailed out here, and added to the one guest who had been in the safety zodiac from the get-go, there were now five guests in the zodiac and seven in kayaks. We waved to the waterbugs as they shoved off.

The zodiac was a fine place to be. The sun shone, I didn't worry about whipping out my camera, and we riders and Julius had a jolly time. Some kayakers wondered about all the laughter coming from the zodiac.

And we saw plenty of ice, too.

What a glow on the bottom of the ice bridge; click to enlarge.

Of course, the paddlers had their fun, but they needed to keep up with Ken, the kayak master.

The time came to return to base camp. There we found a cluster of pink tents, a touring group plunked down just outside our polar bear fence.

Later, in a shop, I saw a map that revealed dozens of recognized camping spots in the broader area, including this one. Greenland is becoming a destination for outdoors-minded Europeans, even for skiing across a stretch of the ice cap.

Our evening movie in the common tent was The Hunt, narrated by David Attenborough. We saw the episode on the changing of the seasons in the Arctic. The photography was stunning, and I can't imagine the work that went into it.

Joan and I were in the tent closest to the interlopers. We could clearly hear them, full of banter and chatter in French, until 10:30 or so, way past our bedtime.

Tomorrow, exploration by zodiac up the Sermilik fjord. No kayaks!

Galapagos: Floreana (Part 2 of 2)

After the first two activities of the day, and before lunch, it was time to go snorkeling for the second time on this trip. Both the advanced and the beginner groups would swim just off Champion Islet, the advanced snorkelers on the more active side in terms of current, and the beginners on the calmer side. However, unlike the first snorkeling trip for beginners, there would be no beach; we would slip into the water from the zodiac and never set foot on a solid surface. This was enough of a step-up in challenge for me that I decided to again use the snorkeling flotation vest, and leave the underwater camera behind. (I will have underwater photos, just later in the trip.)

Lynn Fowler, the expedition leader, accompanied our beginner group. I enjoyed it and felt a sense of accomplishment, although this was the first time I'd swum in a group. I needed to stick close to Joan, my snorkeling buddy, without bumping into anybody else. One highlight was when Joan spotted a chocolate-chip sea star.

After lunch Lynn gave an absorbing presentation on her graduate study work in the Galapagos. To quote from the Lindblad web site:

Lynn completed a doctorate (also at the University of Florida) in 1983, based on her research of the giant tortoises of Alcedo Volcano on Isabela Island, where she spent a year and a half living on the rim of the crater collecting data.

Then the Islander began to sail around Floreana to the site of the first "post office" in the Galapagos. In this photo, taken from the stern, Champion is on the left and Floreana on the right.

It's a wet landing at the post office beach.

Here's the post office. It was established by whalers in 1793; seafarers would deposit letters in the barrel and pick up the ones they could carry onward.

Vanessa explained the history and operation of the post office.

Then all the letters and cards were brought out of the barrel, and the destinations read out by our three naturalists, Vanessa, Christian,

and Jeffo, whose picture hasn't appeared in this blog until now.

There were one or two Ohio-bound pieces, but none close enough for Joan and me to consider hand delivering.

After returning to the Islander there were two activity choices: kayaking and zodiac cruising. Joan and I opted for the zodiacs, but saw some of the kayak operations. Here the kayakers are being helped into their vessels from the embarkation zodiac. (Click on the image to enlarge.)

The kayakers' zodiac kept an eye on things after all the kayaks set out.

This zodiac cruise was the best so far. Early on we approached a beach full of resting sea lions.

The sand must make a great back-scratcher.

Some sea lions were enjoying the surf.

At least one was determined to investigate us.

Sally Lightfoot crabs, and oystercatchers.

Here's a brown pelican.

I love this picture of the snoozing sea lion and the sally lightfoot.

This great blue heron didn't want to pose for me, but instead sat stealthily in the mangrove, where these birds nest.

Two kayakers passed in front of a large mangrove thicket. These salt-tolerant plants have extensive underwater root systems that provide invaluable shelter for young fish and turtles. The extensive nutrients in the brackish water (sea water diluted by freshwater seepage) also encourage bird nesting. The endemic and endangered Galapagos penguins of Isabela island depend on mangroves.

This clump shows that the tide is in.

Kayaks as well as zodiacs must take the channels between rocky islets.

Other tour boats are at anchor here, but we seem to own this patch. The Islander does have the 2pm-6pm slot.

A visit from another Islander zodiac.

Rick shares our zodiac, and he's having a great time too.

Sunset comes quickly at the equator -- the sun doesn't approach the horizon at an angle, but drops straight down.

It's time for everybody to return to the Islander and the evening program.

Not to mention dinner!