I'll go Greenland Dogsledding here!!
This trip, to the very unusual destination, was to be split into two Phases - the first to Iceland and the second to cross the Denmark Strait to Greenland.
Phase One is to be composed of a taxi to Malvern Link Station, a train to Reading Station, a Rail-Air Coach to Heathrow, a fixed-wing aircraft to Keflavik in Iceland, and these followed by a land connection to Reykjavik.
Phase Two is to be composed of a land journey back to Keflavik, a fixed-wing aircraft to Kulusuk, a helicopter to Ammassalik and ground transport to the Hotel in the hills. Once there, two further forms of transport are to be experienced by me for the first time - namely a skidoo (or snowmobile) and, the main reason for the voyage - husky sledding.
The taxi-firm got me off to a very poor start, for 'Leg 1' of Phase One, by not turning up at the agreed time. After much worry (like it hadn't turned up before the train was due for leave from the station), I decided to walk with my luggage to the said station (about a mile) to catch the following train. I had some in-built contingency here, but it would leave me less than the specified check-in time at Heathrow. Furthermore, it doesn't stop at Reading!! On my arrival at the station, the ticket office guy explained that the train hadn't turned up either!! It was obviously very late! However, he said that if it doesn't arrive then the next train may be re-scheduled to stop at Reading. Funny old world isn't it. On the Station was a colleague waiting for this un-arrived early (6.31 a.m) train for his meeting in London. He was more worried than I because of lesser contingencies. When eventually the 7.34 a.m train arrived we separated into (his officially paid for) first-class and (my privately funded) standard class accommodation.
Now the "good news" - on enquiring with the ticket-selling-inspector about a possible stop at Reading, she (yes, it not a man's world now!) said that they have received a 'special instruction' to make an extra stop at Reading. What a nice lady!! Therefore, by two strokes of bad luck, I could well be at Heathrow in plenty of time. This would have been my first choice of train, if only it had been scheduled that way!! That way , I would not have to wait TOO long there. Also, I would be catching a different Rail-Air Link Coach than I had anticipated. Exciting, isn't it?
Having said that, it seemed a very long wait at Heathrow after the fast coach-linkage provided. My flight to Reykjavik was scheduled for 13.00 hours, and once arriving at the appropriate 'gate' and its individual waiting-hall for that flight, it became clear that the aircraft would be very crowded. There seemed to be several school parties waiting for the same departure. Should be a nice quiet trip!! Several elders of the tribe (either senior pupils or young teachers) were providing the underlings with their required snippets of information.
They weren't too noisy really, or even too excited. The noise level increased when boarding-time arrived, but it was not too disorderly an event. I made my way to my seat, 15F, and these children and their keepers seemed to occupy the rest of the plane. However, these English teenagers were much quieter than the omnipresent American passengers with their dominating drawls. Much consternation was raised by one of the 'keepers' when he realised that some rows, contrary to his information, contained all youngsters leading to exit doors. He therefore arranged for them to be rearranged to conform to his 'understanding'. When one of the stewards came around a few minutes later, apparently to check on those with special dietary requirements, none were in their expected places! Furthermore, a later arrival found that his/her seat had gone - and so, probably, had all the rest. I decide to disconnect myself from all this confusion and read my 'usual' magazine from the rack on the seat in front of me.
My 'usual' magazine is the one that gives both 'route' and 'aircraft' information. My 'partner-in-travel' (i.e. seat 15E) on this Boeing 737-400 was a quiet-thoughtful-youngish youth who communicated with the person on his left in seat 15D. From our position above the right-hand wing, our view was a little restricted (more for them than for me because I had a window-seat and could look out at an angle!!) I had got that seat 'by-request' at check-in earlier (at one stage fearing that I may lose it in the game of human-chess being played by the 'keeper' of these youngsters).
After the delicious meal (a gorgeous chicken in lemon sauce) provided by IcelandAir once we were 'at altitude', the lad in 10E and I got talking quite a bit. They are only going as far as Iceland, - to a Study Centre (for Geology) just south of Geysir. I was able to provide us with maps of the place which helped our discussions. We had also both noticed the impressive acceleration of the 737 along the Heathrow runway - which we had commented upon. However, the 'magazine' had shown us that the combined thrust of the engines (at 47200 lbs) was only a little bit less than that of the ThrustSSC car . However, the plane has a gross weight of 145480 lbs (i.e about 70 tons -at about ten times SSC's weight). Thus the car, that I've been writing about for a year and a half, will have ten times the acceleration as the 737 !! It must feel even more impressive than what we've experienced here, and Andy Green, the driver will now have experienced it! This lad and I spoke at great length on motor sport and, in particular, the World Land Speed Record bids that were just about to be made. We also communicated quite a bit on computers and programming, which both he and his Dad do.
We spent a very pleasant time chatting miles above Scotland and the Atlantic Ocean until a snowier Iceland came into view. Spectacular views of Hekla and other volcanos revealed that they had more snow than on my previous visit in 1994. We approached Keflavik over almost the same path as on that occasion, but seeing less of the moss-covered volcanic lava on the plains.
On being met by the Arctic Experience representative at the airport, I followed the directions behind a large Icelandic driver (reminiscent of their guys in the World's Strongest Man competitions) to the appointed 'minibus'. I sat in the empty front-seat behind the driver's position - for a better view of their unique countryside. Behind me sat a couple of chatty young women with English accents. It turned out that we were, each of us, going onto Greenland for the same adventure. As the minibus filled up, I thought that this 'load' must represent the total expedition - the number being about right!! Having, individually, checked- in at the Hotel Island (pronounced 'Iceland') we then went our own ways, - I wanted to photograph some of the missed opportunities from 1994.
Food wasn't important in my eyes - but photos of the Hofti House were. I had visited its exterior in 1994, as had President Reagan and Gorbachev for their historic East-West peace get-together. It had been seen on TV sets around the world. I certainly remember it fondly. It is a beautiful wooden building overlooking the sea, - a place that encourages peaceful thoughts, and, unfortunately, a place where my films ran out during my 1994 treks around Iceland. Thus, my late-afternoon and evening walks concentrated on this area. The light was too dim for reasonable photography, and my feet were too sore for the distance - so I vowed to myself to take them in the morning!
In the morning, after a very large beautiful breakfast, and a short briefing about the Greenland trip together with transport-timings from another representative, we realised that the number on our expedition would be quite small. I then took another walk around Reykjavik and took quite a few pictures approaching and around the Hofti House. Mission accomplished!!
Thus the main purpose of the morning had been completed. Now for some other matters. The scenery and activities around Reykjavik are totally different from the UK and mainland Europe - so I set out to visit some new places not seen in 1994 PLUS some new exploration. My travels took me past the Swimming pool and the camp-site (not as active as in 1994!) - and outside the 'Pool' was a kiosk where I purchased a small snack (a large Icelandic equivalent of the hot-dog). This was done 'on the move' - as it saves wasting time and allows more time for sightseeing!!
I hadn't planned to use time, unwisely, in the hotel eating. We left there on the bus to the airport at 1.30pm, checking in at 2.15pm. That left a little time for photography before the flight - so I took a couple of photographs of a baby dinosaur (an artistic metallic sculpture) emerging from its egg near the actual pool. Internally, the airport building was quite large but nothing compared with the Central European airports. It was really quite busy out here on this volcanic island!! I just bought a packet of Icelandic liquorice allsorts "to keep me going".
My flight to Kulusuk was my first in this type of aircraft, the "Dash 7" (or DHC-7- 103 to give it the full 'name'!). It is a small 44 seater - but it looked like a 20 seater from the outside!) This was a propeller-driven aircraft - too small to 'plug-into' the terminal building walkways. Thus, after collecting our boarding-cards, it was a case of (i) down the steps (ii) across the tarmac and (iii) up the steps into the Dash 7.
To prevent my boarding-card blowing away from out of my passport as I descended this long angled flight of steps, I decided to wait until on solid ground at the bottom. Once at the bottom, I could then, striding boldly across the tarmac area, insert the card into the passport. Safer, I thought! Wrong!!! Whilst concentrating on this intricate task on the 'level', I suddenly lurched uncontrollably forward - as I had come , apparently, to the edge of an un-noticed kerb. I prevented myself from falling over and dropping passport, camera, papers, cabin bag etc by planting my right leg (in a 'welly') firmly on the ground. However, my forward rotation unfortunately continued, so my left leg had to be found from somewhere and planted, quickly and heavily, on the 'deck'. Still not sufficient to stop my 'falling over' yet, two or three further slapping-steps were taken (in blind-panic!) to offset the forward rotation and bring me safely, almost calmly, - though shaken, - to a stand-still on the tarmac. I may have looked a `wallie' with this `wellie'-performance of noisy slapping movements. I certainly felt it although other passengers were apparently unconcerned - and appeared not to have noticed!! [The very least I could have expected, from those descending the steps, was a hearty round of applause. It was not forthcoming!!] This noisy episode was 'apparently safe'. However, for the next 20-30 hours, my muscles in my right leg were somewhat painful.
A quiet sit-down, in the small Dash 7, allowed me to exercise and check-out the right- leg, unobtrusively in my seat. If I could get the leg back-to-normal, it would be useful on this expedition. I planned to take a few photos whilst airborne in this craft - as we cross the Denmark Strait between Iceland and Greenland. Moreover, many books talk about 'pack-ice' in the Strait - and I've never seen any of that yet. I've seen plenty of icebergs and other 'glacial debris' but only heard of pack-ice. I'll soon find out what the difference is!!
As this early-medieval aircraft, with its propeller-driven mechanism, took us from our isolated place on the tarmac via a short taxi-way to a runway, it didn't even bat-an-eyelid - but took a short take-off run and we were away!! No waiting and queuing for a take-off-slot for us here at Keflavik!!
Our crew of two, he (pilot/navigator/announcer/commentator) and she (ticket-inspector/ hostess/cleaner/anything-else-that-the-pilot-wanted-doing!) looked after us well on this short- medium-lengthed trip. We had meal/refreshments when up to a quite small altitude in this jam-packed 44-seater. Our good-lady had to do this on her own as the pilot was otherwise engaged! Sometimes, the door connecting the cabin to the passenger area swung open and we could see Fred-up-front and a forward view sometimes. I say "sometimes" because, in reality, we were in a continuous climb with a nose-up attitude ( the aircraft, -not the crew, who were REAL people rather than plastic clones as in the rest of Europe).
Not seeing anything new like pack-ice, or even icebergs, more attention was given to people inside the cabin, the booklet, the way the aircraft 'ceiling' had to be constantly mended by the jacqueline-of-all-trades hostess, and so on. Eating came high up the list on most people's minds - as most of us clearly hadn't eaten for a while. Furthermore, once over the sea (Denmark Strait), the view was obliterated by 100% cloud.
Only when the descent towards the clouds was well underway, did the view get more interesting. Some structure appeared in these clouds which wasn't apparent at altitude (with my eyes!). I can analyse the photos at my own leisure, later, with optical aids.
Later, when the clouds dispersed, there were a few odd mini-icebergs sprinkled about the water. Several miles further on, there appeared white-horses though not very big due to the lack of wind on the surface. This lack-of-wind seemed to give an interesting effect. Thus, when a small non-moving patch of water had chilled sufficiently, it froze. In fact, it appeared to freeze in tiny patches, appearing like sheets of A4 paper floating on the sea. As we neared Greenland, these 'sheets' had increased in number and gathered, like dogs, into 'packs'. Quite a different meaning to pack-ice than I had expected!! I has previously assumed that it would be ice which is compacted in thickness rather than these icesheets moving about 'in packs'. I am sure that the Inuit peoples have different names for every sort of ice.
This type of ice increased as we got into the journey. First the packs began packing and making larger horizontal arrangements, - then some chunks of iceberg were completely surrounded by this packing arrangement. Even small mini-icebergs were tall compared with these lateral plates which were very thin. Later on, we were able to see packs of icebergs as well as packs of thin-sheet ice. Every combination of thin-sheets and bergs appeared on this journey. Truly an impressive sight with memorable combinations of types of ice meeting-up having been formed by two entirely different processes.
I was doubly fortunate sitting on the left-hand side of the aircraft. The sun was at the optimum angle for increasing the beauty. Looking out the opposite windows was plagued by a fierce glare from the sun.
As we got closer to the Greenlandic coast, the snow-covered-mountains presenting a marvellous panorama, it appeared that there would be absolutely nowhere to land - even if there was a flat bit (and that seemed highly unlikely!)
The "Dash 7" edged closer to the mountains, heading up the coast, until out of my left-hand window (completely filling it!) was a mountain - just a few feet from the wing-tip ..and extending to far higher altitude than our current position. The mountain turned left, so our plane did the same. We appeared to be in a fjord because, on the right-hand side, albeit further from the corresponding wing-tip, was another mountain!
This must be the island of Kulusuk outside my nearest window. As we droned slowly round the edge of the mountain, losing altitude most of the time, the undercarriage gradually extended. Looking out of the window in a near-vertical direction, I could see the ground coming up to meet us. It was just snow-covered rocks!! When it seemed that the wheel was only about a foot above this dodgy rocky-ice -covered outcrop, a surface devoid of snow showed-up and we were plonked down on what must have been the first metre or two of the runway.
Within a few seconds into our deceleration, we were splashing along through considerable wetness on this runway. The views from all windows were stupendous with totally-snowy mountains and airfield. When we came to a halt, just a few muddy yards from the terminal building, we were all anxious to get off and see what was in-store for us next.
I knew that we were not at our 'destination' yet. This was just an off-shore island where we would change from our fixed-wing connection from Iceland to our rotary-winged vehicle (a helicopter - you dummy!) which will take us to Ammassalik. That is on another off-shore island, far more rocky and less flat than Kulusuk.
In preparation for this next leg towards the 'interior', I waded through the mud between the Dash-7 and the small set of huts (that's the Terminal Building!). We 'checked in' and dumped our cabin-baggage in the left-hand building. Then, trigger happy with the camera, I explored the snow-covered area outside the buildings. The snow was obviously a minimum of 6feet (or 2 metres) deep over the whole area - apart from those parts that had been excavated.
In front of the buildings, even closer than the Dash-7, was an interesting-looking helicopter. Beyond both were snow-covered mountains enclosing the most beautifully scenic airport that one could imagine. Each of these was begging to be photographed. So I did.
Behind the Terminal building were the remains of the 2-metre deep snow, separated by a great wall of sliced-off-snow from a cleared road. It looked an imposing wall - taller than myself (but that's not difficult!) I took several photos outside the airport's 'terminal' with dramatic beautiful mountains in the background. Bobbie or Ruby took a photo of me with my own camera.
There were too many of us to get on a single helicopter (a 9-seater Bell 212) so I was separated from my companions as they boarded for its first trip to Ammassalik. I would have to await the arrival of another fixed-wing aircraft from Kulusuk to make up its next load. It seemed to take ages to arrive - and then an even longer time before we were called to make our way to the 'whirlybird'. All the time, the assertive passenger-controller(or airport- manager?) kept everyone amused by his personality. Most of this dialogue was conducted in the Greenlandic or Danish language (I don't know either!) - so I couldn't appreciate his humour properly - until he conducted some in English.
Now I'm off with a new group of strangers to the helicopter, - first over the sloshy mud, then over compacted snow to where the 'chopper' sits, the icy mountains in the background. I'm about half-way-back in this group, taking photos on the way out there before climbing aboard. Choppers are said to be noisy beasts, so I was prepared for it!! On start-up, the noise increased, although far less than I had anticipated. It was pleasant enough so I did not put on the available ear-defenders. I'd rather hear naturally, rather than muffled or attenuated, provided it was neither uncomfortable nor too noisy. Thus I could hear and see perfectly naturally for this flight.
"Lift-off" was far more gradual than I had expected. No steep ascents; - no crazy angles!!! Just a pleasant gentle rising above the terminal's grounds - over the snow, the hills, the slowly moving scenery - as we headed westwards to Ammassalik. Visibility, for me, was almost non-existent, although it was quite a clear day. The nine passengers, however, were seated amongst piles of freight, kit-bags, boxes etc, etc.. It appears that we humans had been added as an 'afterthought'. Over the bags and other freight, directly in front of me, I could see two helmets rotating about vertical axes. They must have belonged to the pilot and co-pilot, just two or three feet in front of me.
Impossible to see much detail of the scenery on the flight, I had detected rises over hilly terrain, ice-covered waters and an 'approach' in mountainous territory.We were about to arrive at the Ammassalik Heliport. Nice landing! After releasing the seat belt and the rotors had stopped, the doors opened each side, the steps were provided - and a careful descent onto the sheet-ice near the building was made. Gingerly skirting the building I made my way to the check-in desk. (The whole building was only shed-sized!!)
I didn't know anyone in this group and was waiting to hear from somebody about my luggage which was, presumably, ahead of me and already unloaded!!? The earlier trip of this chopper could well have dumped my 'goods'. The check-in girl was apparently busy with other matters - but a guy approached me, thinking I was the missing person from the previous flight, and asked if I wanted the Hotel Angmagssalik. I gave him a nod and the universal thumbs-up sign to indicate that I was pleased to see him - and we strode off towards the truck, that he was to take me in, to the hotel. Hut, hotel, igloo - what's the difference, - they all mean "a dwelling place"!
On climbing up into the passenger seat of this means of transport, because of the conditions (and common sense!), I felt around for the seat-belt, or whatever, - all to no avail. There was one, visually, but the driver said "You won't want one of those because we haven't got any roads here!!" As we rocketted away from the helipad area, it was quite clear that he was right. No roads! Correct!! Instead of roads we have sheet-ice, very steep hills, hairpin bends and a six-foot wall of snow delineating the boundaries of the 'canyons' that we were travelling along. He was right; there appear to be no roads!!
It was almost full-throttle all the way, sometimes "backing-off" a little for some bends. After one such bend, the exit appeared to climb almost vertically on sheet ice!! My driver floored the throttle and the engine roared excitedly - and we accelerated very efficiently and speedily at a great rate of knots up this wall!! "This is no ordinary vehicle", I thought (but great fun to drive). My rally-driving expert pilot explained that each of these vehicles is "four-wheel-drive" and has "fully-studded" tyres. [Something like that was needed to explain how he could, so easily apparently, disobey the laws of physics!] We arrived eventually at the summit of the hill on which our hotel was perched - having passed my earlier-arriving friends near a T-junction (to the right) on a left-hairpin. We all waved amazedly at each other - but I had now arrived. Gingerly, I descended from the 'truck' and, even more gingerly, walked the five or six yards to the entrance of our hotel, which appeared to be almost buried in snow.
I checked-in. I was here!!
This is what the entrance looked like!!
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Go to Part two of 'TALE EIGHT' to continue.
.. or go to 'Winter Tales' index to re-orientate.