Monday, 31 August 2009, with color and context added:
For such a glorious day, it started badly enough. We had spent the night tied up at the Weather/Communications Station, Prins Christian Sund, Greenland. The totally ruined jetty was in the process of being replaced/repaired. A 30’ old red steel cabin cruiser belonging to the contractor fixing the jetty was tied up at the corner of the pilings which form the edge of the new jetty. We had tied up five feet outside of the red boat with lines to the other corner of the pilings, to shore off the port bow, to a rock just off shore aft, and to the red boat. This is only possible in very settled conditions, no wind, no waves. To get ashore, we had to pull Maryam close to the red boat, climb aboard it, then down to a floating platform, up a ladder, then along an I-beam welded to the top of the pilings. The Communications Station is up 283 steps, in the saddle of several hills where communications towers are situated. The station provides a vital communications link for the 200 airplanes per day flying between North America and Europe.
We had spent Sunday afternoon at the station and needed to go back Monday morning to get an updated weather report for the six-day trip to Newfoundland. Sunday night Al had suggested that I was not up to the 283-step climb, but Monday morning I was the only one awake at 0730 local. So I decided to take the computer up the hill for the internet connection to download a new weather forecast. Fortunately, I put the computer in Al’s new waterproof 66° North bag bought in Iceland. I pulled Maryam up next to the red boat and started to step over. Just as I got my feet on the red boat, I lost control of the line holding Maryam close to it. The boats quickly separated and I found myself with my feet on the red boat and my hands on Maryam. Then I was hanging from Maryam’s lifeline. Then I was in the sub-zero water shouting HELP.
Al came on deck to throw me a line. After a little coaxing, he lengthened the line sufficiently for me to tie a bowline (non-slip knot) with the line under my arms. As Al and Trond started to try to lift me, the contractor brought the float around to the space between the boats and I was able to get on it. Even though the water was below 0°C, it was neither shocking nor painful. I was in the water for a few minutes and in my wet clothes outside for maybe five minutes more, but I never felt that I was losing my wits nor the use of any faculties. It was also not painful. In fact I had no great sensation of being especially cold. Trond had come on deck straight from his bed clad only in his underwear briefs. As I lay in the water looking at him, I thought, “Strange, he looks colder than I feel.” Getting into the pool in St Barths has felt colder, probably due to anticipation. In the end the major losses were to my pride and my iPhone. Al’s 66° North bag worked perfectly. Also noteworthy was the difference between the woolen clothes and the cotton ones: when wet wool continues to provide good insulation; cotton the opposite. I attribute some of my lack of feeling cold to my Marino woolen underwear and new Dale of Norway sweater bought in Bergen specially for the trip .
Trond took the computer up the hill and got a new forecast which indicated a safe, albeit moderately rough passage to Newfoundland. We departed at 1000 local for a glorious trip through Prins Christian Sund, the sound across the south end of Greenland. Our first diversion was into a small fjord on the north side of the sound called Sermeq Kujatdleg with a glacier at the end. We frolicked there for a couple of hours. Trond went on a small iceberg for pictures and the experience. We put a small ice floe into the freezer for use with rum and tonic in the Caribbean. We sailed through ice pieces up close to the edge of the glacier where we tried to provoke a major calving by shooting the flare gun. The sound produced a few minor calves, but not the big one. We celebrated by toasting the crew of Maryam with a small gin on glacier ice.
Our next task was to replenish the water. We thought we could put the bow directly under a large waterfall at the side of the fjord, but a couple of rocks appeared to block the way. So we put Trond ashore with a long line. He tied it to a big rock, led it around a point and we tied it to the bow as a spring line. By keeping the engine in gear, I was able to hold the boat quite steady while Trond secured the hose in a small stream close to the big waterfall. We filled both tanks and, with buckets of water from the stream as it fell into the sea, we washed Maryam’s decks.
Prins Christian Sund (PCS) is about 50 miles long. From the east, where we entered, it lies east-west. It is less than 1/2 mile wide with mountains on either side rising as high as 1800 meters. The eastern end is impassable to non icebreakers until late July. We saw many bergs but had no trouble navigating. PCS is quite deep, but there is one relatively shallow (70 meters) section about 20 miles in called Qornoq. One must transit this at slack tide; otherwise the current can be swift and occasionally dangerous. We caught the tail end of the slack at high tide and got a nice lift as we proceeded west on the ebb.
About 30 miles in is a crossroads with a large fjord to the north and several outlets to the south. There is also a small natural harbor with a jetty to which we could tie by overhanging both bow and stern. We spent Monday night there so we could stock up at the local store and so we could complete the PCS transit in daylight. The name of the village is Augpilagtoq, I counted about 50 homes, but I think some of these were abandoned. Probably 150 people live there. As we entered, the kids came running, and then a few adult Inuits appeared. One spoke a few words of English and more Danish (Greenland is still officially part of Denmark). Danish is sufficiently close to Norwegian and Swedish that we were able to communicate a little. We learned that the 40’ Japanese sail boat we had seen on Sunday (the only boat of size we saw in PCS and the only sailboat in Greenland) had spent the previous week tied up there awaiting good weather for a crossing to Iceland. Augpilagtoq has no bar, but one house was having a wild party with Cajun music audible from more then 100 meters away. We met and exchanged pleasantries with one quite drunk older woman walking home from a smaller gathering at another house. We closed the evening on Maryam with Famous Grouse Scotch and glacier water accompanied by microwave popcorn.
For such a glorious day, it started badly enough. We had spent the night tied up at the Weather/Communications Station, Prins Christian Sund, Greenland. The totally ruined jetty was in the process of being replaced/repaired. A 30’ old red steel cabin cruiser belonging to the contractor fixing the jetty was tied up at the corner of the pilings which form the edge of the new jetty. We had tied up five feet outside of the red boat with lines to the other corner of the pilings, to shore off the port bow, to a rock just off shore aft, and to the red boat. This is only possible in very settled conditions, no wind, no waves. To get ashore, we had to pull Maryam close to the red boat, climb aboard it, then down to a floating platform, up a ladder, then along an I-beam welded to the top of the pilings. The Communications Station is up 283 steps, in the saddle of several hills where communications towers are situated. The station provides a vital communications link for the 200 airplanes per day flying between North America and Europe.
We had spent Sunday afternoon at the station and needed to go back Monday morning to get an updated weather report for the six-day trip to Newfoundland. Sunday night Al had suggested that I was not up to the 283-step climb, but Monday morning I was the only one awake at 0730 local. So I decided to take the computer up the hill for the internet connection to download a new weather forecast. Fortunately, I put the computer in Al’s new waterproof 66° North bag bought in Iceland. I pulled Maryam up next to the red boat and started to step over. Just as I got my feet on the red boat, I lost control of the line holding Maryam close to it. The boats quickly separated and I found myself with my feet on the red boat and my hands on Maryam. Then I was hanging from Maryam’s lifeline. Then I was in the sub-zero water shouting HELP.
Al came on deck to throw me a line. After a little coaxing, he lengthened the line sufficiently for me to tie a bowline (non-slip knot) with the line under my arms. As Al and Trond started to try to lift me, the contractor brought the float around to the space between the boats and I was able to get on it. Even though the water was below 0°C, it was neither shocking nor painful. I was in the water for a few minutes and in my wet clothes outside for maybe five minutes more, but I never felt that I was losing my wits nor the use of any faculties. It was also not painful. In fact I had no great sensation of being especially cold. Trond had come on deck straight from his bed clad only in his underwear briefs. As I lay in the water looking at him, I thought, “Strange, he looks colder than I feel.” Getting into the pool in St Barths has felt colder, probably due to anticipation. In the end the major losses were to my pride and my iPhone. Al’s 66° North bag worked perfectly. Also noteworthy was the difference between the woolen clothes and the cotton ones: when wet wool continues to provide good insulation; cotton the opposite. I attribute some of my lack of feeling cold to my Marino woolen underwear and new Dale of Norway sweater bought in Bergen specially for the trip .
Trond took the computer up the hill and got a new forecast which indicated a safe, albeit moderately rough passage to Newfoundland. We departed at 1000 local for a glorious trip through Prins Christian Sund, the sound across the south end of Greenland. Our first diversion was into a small fjord on the north side of the sound called Sermeq Kujatdleg with a glacier at the end. We frolicked there for a couple of hours. Trond went on a small iceberg for pictures and the experience. We put a small ice floe into the freezer for use with rum and tonic in the Caribbean. We sailed through ice pieces up close to the edge of the glacier where we tried to provoke a major calving by shooting the flare gun. The sound produced a few minor calves, but not the big one. We celebrated by toasting the crew of Maryam with a small gin on glacier ice.
Our next task was to replenish the water. We thought we could put the bow directly under a large waterfall at the side of the fjord, but a couple of rocks appeared to block the way. So we put Trond ashore with a long line. He tied it to a big rock, led it around a point and we tied it to the bow as a spring line. By keeping the engine in gear, I was able to hold the boat quite steady while Trond secured the hose in a small stream close to the big waterfall. We filled both tanks and, with buckets of water from the stream as it fell into the sea, we washed Maryam’s decks.
Prins Christian Sund (PCS) is about 50 miles long. From the east, where we entered, it lies east-west. It is less than 1/2 mile wide with mountains on either side rising as high as 1800 meters. The eastern end is impassable to non icebreakers until late July. We saw many bergs but had no trouble navigating. PCS is quite deep, but there is one relatively shallow (70 meters) section about 20 miles in called Qornoq. One must transit this at slack tide; otherwise the current can be swift and occasionally dangerous. We caught the tail end of the slack at high tide and got a nice lift as we proceeded west on the ebb.
About 30 miles in is a crossroads with a large fjord to the north and several outlets to the south. There is also a small natural harbor with a jetty to which we could tie by overhanging both bow and stern. We spent Monday night there so we could stock up at the local store and so we could complete the PCS transit in daylight. The name of the village is Augpilagtoq, I counted about 50 homes, but I think some of these were abandoned. Probably 150 people live there. As we entered, the kids came running, and then a few adult Inuits appeared. One spoke a few words of English and more Danish (Greenland is still officially part of Denmark). Danish is sufficiently close to Norwegian and Swedish that we were able to communicate a little. We learned that the 40’ Japanese sail boat we had seen on Sunday (the only boat of size we saw in PCS and the only sailboat in Greenland) had spent the previous week tied up there awaiting good weather for a crossing to Iceland. Augpilagtoq has no bar, but one house was having a wild party with Cajun music audible from more then 100 meters away. We met and exchanged pleasantries with one quite drunk older woman walking home from a smaller gathering at another house. We closed the evening on Maryam with Famous Grouse Scotch and glacier water accompanied by microwave popcorn.
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