Arctic Journey: Skjoldungen Island, Greenland

The morning of July 22nd found us off the eastern coast of Greenland near Skjoldungen Island. We were well rested, for we had turned the clock back an hour twice in our voyage from Iceland, and now the Explorer was only two hours ahead of Eastern time.

As you can see from Google Maps, the Greenlandic coast is riven by deep fjords headed by glaciers. In this image, you can see that Skjoldungen is not an island off the coast, but a section of the coast transformed into an island by multiple fjords.

As we drew closer the ice grew denser. The East Greenland Current is a major route for transporting ice into the Atlantic, and the fjords hold a mixture of sea ice and glacial ice. It was good to know that the Explorer is an ice-class vessel with a "DNV Ice-1A Super" rating on the forward hull.

The glacial ice is dirtier.

We gently eased through the ice, cautiously approaching a hooded seal, a species limited to the central and western areas of the North Atlantic. The Lindblad philosophy is to get as close to wildlife as possible without disturbing their natural behavior. Always keep your binoculars handy!

The views were impressive as we eased up the channel. But would we find a place to land??

The ice itself was fascinating to watch as we cruised.

I've got millions -- well, hundreds -- of ice pictures, but just one more for now.

There is an abandoned settlement here.

Captain Oliver Kreuss and Expedition Leader Lisa Kelley found the cove they were looking for.

After expedition staff scouted out the landing, the guests began to come ashore by zodiac. Several staff members were armed with rifles, in case a polar bear showed up. The first shot is a blank, to scare the bear away. If the bear will not be dissuaded, however, lethal measures can be taken.

Joan and I joined one of the "long hike" groups, and we set off up the sun-drenched slope.

Climbing uphill in the brilliant July sun, the group quickly decided to remove some layers.

As we worked our way up the slope the kayakers paddled into their adventures.

The hikers continued past a crest and discovered a snowfield, behind which lay a frozen pond or tarn and, ultimately, a pass.

Time and energy didn't allow for a dash to the pass, but we explored the melted portion of the tarn.

The waters were nearly transparent and astonishingly reflective (click on the photo to enlarge).

Here staff member Eric Guth is answering a question from the group.

The tarn empties from one corner and flows inevitably to the sea.

Then it was time to work our way back to the beach, downhill. Both Joan and I were a bit too casual about the cross-country effort; she tweaked one knee and I twinged an ankle. Fortunately, these incidents were more reminders to be careful than they were injuries.

This dwarf willow was unusually tall due to a sheltered and sunny location.

There was a lot of photography happening on the way down.

Then it was time to sail back out to the Atlantic and continue south towards the tip of Greenland. On leaving the Skjoldungen Fjord we discovered that the cold Atlantic air had created a low fog bank.

Everyone knew when the Explorer shoved aside a chunk of ice.

Peering into the distance we could detect icebergs worthy of the Titanic.

We passed a snoozing hooded seal, very probably the same one we had observed hours before.

A bit later a pebbled sky, backlit clouds, mountains, and reflections combined to create a scene that made me blink and rub my eyes to make sure that the vista before me was real, and not just spots before my eyes.

An hour later we encountered a pod of humpback whales. Every time we would see a whale flip its tail on diving, called "fluking," a collective "Ahhh!" would fill the ship. Here is a sequence of four photos from one such event.

The patterns on the underside of the tail are unique, similar to human fingerprints. They're used to identify individual whales and track their locations and activities. Here's a closer look at the fluking of a different humpback than the one above.

One whale swam close to the ship for a while. In this picture his or her blowhole is clearly visible.

In these clear waters the lighter-colored body parts can been seen when the whale is underwater. Sometimes you can even track them as they swim submerged, waiting for one to resurface. In this photo, the left front flipper is visible.

Joan and I also saw a humpback demonstrate a remarkable sinuosity, not just whole-body movements.

Then it was time for us to move on, enjoying the sunshine that had succeeded the fog.

It had been a busy day. We wound down from the outdoors excitement with a talk on Plants of the Arctic and dinner.

Arctic Journey: Breiðafjörður (Breidafjord) and Flatey

On the morning of July 20th, after a welcome night of sleep, we entered the Breidafjord, a large shallow bay which separates the Westfjords from the rest of Iceland. On the port side of the Explorer was the Latrabjarg, Europe's largest bird cliff at 14 km long and 441 meters high. If you don't count Greenland or the Azores it is also the westernmost point of Europe. Capped with a layer of fog or cloud, it looked most mysterious.

Joan and I were two of four guests on the bridge when a large creature came close by the starboard side. Consulting with the captain, he identified it as a basking shark, the second largest fish after the whale shark. Many of my at-sea photos were taken from the bridge, which provides an elevated viewpoint and knowledgeable and experienced spotters, including the captain. In addition, you are sheltered from the weather on the bridge. The only downside is that I'm taking photos through windows.

A bit later everyone on board had a good look a small pod of orcas, or killer whales, that we encountered further into the bay. They hung around for at least half an hour.

The youngster always stayed close to its mother.

Here is a closer look at the accompanying male, with the large dorsal fin.

The pigs accompanying us on this voyage, Katy and Posy, usually watched from the cabin window, although they sometimes attended lectures if there was the possibility of interesting pictures.

During lunchtime, guests can take their meal in the observation lounge, where the views are better, instead of the dining room. On a pretty day such as today it fills up rapidly.

Flatey island, our goal, is indeed flatter than most of Iceland, as this view from our approach shows.

The Explorer was too large to use the ferry dock, so we reached the shore via zodiac.

Flatey was a commercial and cultural hub for a long time. For example, a monastery was founded in 1172. The island had a large population for its small geographic size from the mid-18th Century through the 19th Century, but in the 20th Century it dwindled, until now the year-round population is only five. However, there are a large number of summer homes and guest houses on Flatey, so its population swells during the summer.

Flatey is visited year-round by a ferry. From the settlement of Iceland to this day it is easier to travel by boat from any point on the Breidafjord to another than to use the roads.

This photo shows how the village center appears from the spot of our zodiac landing.

The first leg of our walkabout was to the ferry dock, which has a small café and gift shop. Outside fish were drying.

Sheep have been the major livestock of Iceland for a thousand years.

They are very relaxed and comfortable.

Next we visited the church, built in 1926.

The interior of the church was painted with scenes of island life and history in the 1960s by a Spanish painter, Baltasar Samper.

Here is a closeup of one section.

Close by is the library, the oldest and smallest in Iceland, established in 1864.

Inside, among other books, is a copy of the Flateyjarbók, or Flatey Book, written in the late 14th Century. The original book remained on Flatey until the mid 17th Century, and was repatriated to Iceland from Denmark in 1971.

Then it was time for us to walk through the village on our way to the bird sanctuary. On our way we stopped to admire the knickknacks and trinkets that some of the youngsters had created and displayed for sale. When we reached the bluffs,

it was PUFFIN TIME. There was a flotilla of Atlantic puffins just off the shore (click on the photo to enlarge).

A few souls clambered down for a better, more contemplative look.

Too soon it was time to wander back to the zodiac landing for a zodiac cruise. On our way we watched a couple of families come out to play in the small harbor in what must have been very cold water. But then, these are hardy Icelanders!

One of the zodiacs on its cruise ...

Our cruise consisted of circumnavigating the small bird island just off the harbor. There were closeups of puffins outside their burrows,

hanging out on rocks,

and swimming in the water,

as well as nesting kittiwakes.

Then it was time to return to the Explorer and the captain's Welcome Cocktail Party. This began 36 hours at sea, crossing the Denmark Strait to Greenland.

July 21st, the transit day, was filled with lectures and time to hang out on the bridge. Lectures included The Geologic History and Tectonic Setting of Greenland and Iceland, Introduction to the Vikings, An Introduction to Greenland and Arctic Landings, and not least Guest Speaker Tim Severin and the first part of his description of the Brendan Voyage. Also our boots, poles, and jackets were, as necessary, decontaminated to avoid bringing non-native species of plants, insects, and the like to Greenland.

The next morning would find us off the east coast of Greenland and Skjoldungen Island.

Arctic Journey: Reykjavík

On July 18th Joan and I flew to Iceland to begin a back-to-back (two itineraries strung together) with Lindblad Expeditions, which would visit Iceland, Greenland, and two islands of Arctic Canada, Devon and Baffin. This post is the first in a series, which will take a couple of months to complete, describing that trip.

We arrived in Reykjavík at about 6:00am, which was 2:00am by our home clock, so it was a day without a night (or sleep). Our contingent was bussed from the Keflavik airport to the hotel Icelandair Natura, on the grounds of the domestic airport.

There we were given day rooms in which to recuperate and wash up before a group lunch. Joan and I take the approach of "bash on" in coping with jet lag, so after a brief pause in the day room we embarked on a walk. First, we headed up through a park to the Perlan (Pearl) situated on top of the adjacent hill.

The hemispherical structure was added to four hot water storage tanks in 1991, creating space for restaurants, shops, and a museum. We didn't go inside -- it hadn't opened yet -- but circumambulated the structure and headed down the hill, passing by an artificial geyser.

Joan and I strolled past the University and paused at the edge of the Nauthólsvik geothermal beach, which opened in 2000.

After our group lunch back at the hotel we all boarded buses for an afternoon city tour before boarding our ship, the National Geographic Explorer. Our city tour kept us rolling; the National Museum and the Hallgrímskirkja Church were where we spent the most time. I don't have any pictures from the museum -- our group was milling about and I'd been up for, oh, 36 hours at this point. One great "exhibit" was the outline of a Viking longship in the floor. If you think that spending hours in a cramped airline seat is torture, imagine spending weeks at sea in one of these open-air warships.

Here's a photo of the exterior of the church, the primary landmark of Reykjavík. There is freedom of religion in Iceland, but the state church is Lutheran.

The interior, front ...

and towards the back.

In front of the church is a statue of Leif Ericson, donated by the U.S. in 1930, on the 1000th anniversary of the founding of the Althing, the Icelandic parliament.

Then our bus arrived at the ship, which wasn't ready for us yet. We were supposed to arrive no earlier than 5:00pm, but the guide thought the instruction was no later than 5:00pm, and we showed up on the dock at 4:30. We had to wait a few minutes while the staff scrambled into proper dress and position, and then we boarded the Explorer.

While the ship was still docked I could see the historic harbor locomotive Minor, now on exhibit, one of two sent to Iceland in 1913 for the harbor project.

With us in the harbor was an Icelandic Coast Guard ship.

In addition to being experts at sub-Arctic search and rescue, disposing of World War II naval mines, and the like, the Coast Guard was involved in the Cod Wars with Great Britain.

The large building in the background is the new Opera House, which opened in 2011.

Then it was off to sea, to arrive in the morning at Breiðafjörður, Iceland's second largest bay, and the island of Flatey.