Adventure in the Scoresby Sund with Tilvera
Greenland sailing expedition
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WideOyster photographer Frits Meyst boards the sailing ship Tilvera. Together with ten other adventurers, he braves katabatic winds, biting frost, crashing glaciers and thickening pack ice to penetrate deep into a wild and desolate island continent, home to polar bears, musk oxen and Arctic hares. Sail through one of the last places on our planet where Mother Nature is still in charge and humans are merely guests.
“Are you Frits?” asks a seasoned polar adventurer – judging by his clothes – with a Flemish accent, as I step off the De Havilland Canada Dash 8 aircraft next to the unpaved runway of Constable Pynt in southeastern Greenland. While my boots sink deeper and deeper into the mud, I reply in surprise: Yes, how did you know? He laughs and points to all my cameras. “Belén asked me to give you this,” he says, pushing a hunting rifle into my hands. “And here are some cartridges.” Seeing my bewildered look, he quickly adds: “For the polar bears.” He waves; he has to leave as his plane is about to depart. There I am, with a gun in my hands. I’m not sure I feel safer. Anyway, let the adventure begin.
He pushes a shotgun into my hands. “And here are some cartridges.” Seeing my bewildered look, he quickly adds: “For the polar bears”
My Captain
In a nearby bay, the Tilvera awaits, a beautiful 22-meter-long steel two-master built in the Netherlands and designed for all weather conditions and oceans. For the past twenty years, she has sailed around the world, including expeditions to both poles and no less than eight trips to Antarctica.
“Welcome aboard, I’m Belén García Ovide, and this is my captain, Heimir Hardarson,” she laughs, sending a loving wink in his direction. The Spanish scientist and her rugged sailor from Iceland are the proud new owners of the Tilvera. Although Tilvera Expeditions is new, the couple behind it has decades of experience sailing and exploring the oceans. For the past ten years, Belén has dedicated herself to marine research and led projects in sustainable tourism, whale research, plastic pollution, and citizen science. “My goal is to combine the three pillars of my life so far: sailing, science, and education,” she says. She met ‘her’ captain when she worked as a guide on one of the whale excursions his family business organised. He has been sailing the oceans since a young age and now has more than twenty years of experience as a captain. “Heimir has an enormous drive for adventure, the ocean, and nature in general. He is a visionary and enjoys creating new possibilities and conducting expeditions in inventive ways,” says Belén. “He realized many innovative ideas at North Sailing, such as converting some boats into electric or hybrid boats to sail more environmentally friendly.”
We float without anchor in a crystal-clear, dead-still world between ice chunks that stand out white against the pitch-black water of the mirror-smooth fjord
Eleven guests from three continents listen attentively to the introduction and safety briefing, and soon after, we lift the anchor and sail on the motor in the windless Scoresby Sund towards the setting sun.
Polar Disco
Night falls. We float without anchor in a crystal-clear, dead-still world between ice chunks that stand out white against the pitch-black water of the mirror-smooth fjord. The abundance of stars visible in the polar night evokes an almost melancholic mood.
Together with my Swiss cousin Marco, I take the first watch. Everyone on board takes turns on night watch, keeping an eye out for icebergs and ‘bergy bits’, pieces of broken-off iceberg large enough to damage the ship. The world is serene, but we remain alert. Suddenly a green explosion lights up the dark night. The ghostly green light moves quickly through the darkness, fading and brightening. To the left, another explosion. Again, one to the right. Magenta and green wisps streak high through the sky, sometimes sharp as spotlights, sometimes flaming. It is the disco of the Greenlandic polar night, the aurora borealis, and we are the only ones witnessing the light show, the rest are snoring in the forepeak.
Suddenly a green explosion lights up the dark night. The ghostly green light moves quickly through the darkness, fading and brightening
Skyscraper
The sun hangs just above the horizon as I stick my head out of the hatch. Cautiously, we approach the Sol Glacier, a twelve-kilometre-long ice mass that, with its slow pace of about ten meters per day, is considered a fast glacier. The constantly pushing ice tongue ensures that the falling ice provides a deafening continuous spectacle. Pitch-black vertical basalt walls rise on both sides of the ice mass, like two-thousand-meter-high gatekeepers looking down on us. Then suddenly, blue ice breaks off – blue ice is old ice, snow that falls on a glacier and is compressed into ice – the size of a skyscraper, with a sound best compared to a jet breaking the sound barrier, while a turbine of a Boeing 747 warms up thirty metres away. The avalanche of chunks thunders straight at us. Freed from the glacier, where they had been part of it for thousands, if not tens of thousands of years. The white cloud quickly comes closer. My first reflex is to take cover, but the photographer in me wins. A little later, we are engulfed by the cloud, and ice crystals hail down. When the cloud clears, everyone is covered in a layer of ice glitter. Wow!
Downtown Harlem
In front of the Vikingebugt (Viking Bay), the first gigantic iceberg comes into view. One about the size of downtown Harlem. The ice mass towers sixty meters above the deck, and in the middle is a huge, melted cathedral. To give me an even better idea of the iceberg’s dimensions, Belén takes me in the zodiac. From the rubber boat we see how tiny the Tilvera stands out against the enormous blue ice wall. “Isn’t it beautiful? Just 24 hours in and we’ve already seen the northern lights, a collapsing glacier, and a massive iceberg. Now all we need is a polar bear, and we can go home?” she laughs. “This is why the ship is called Tilvera. In Icelandic, tilvera means ‘existence’ but also ‘being in the moment’. If we can convey this feeling to our guests, we create ambassadors for the polar region. And with that, we contribute to the protection of one of the last pieces of unspoiled nature on earth.”
“Isn’t it beautiful? Just 24 hours in and we’ve already seen the northern lights, a collapsing glacier, and a massive iceberg. Now all we need is a polar bear, and we can go home!”
We sail into the Viking Bay. Mission: spotting polar bears. Heimir grabs his binoculars and navigates as close to the coast as possible while Belén scans the drifting ice. As darkness falls, Heimir spots two white spots high on a rock: a mother and her cub lounging after a copious meal. “We’ll anchor here, hopefully, they’ll go hunting again tomorrow morning,” announces Heimir. “That’s the advantage of this last expedition of the season, there is no pressure to be somewhere at a certain time. Now we can wait for the bears, which increases the chances of good sightings.”
The next morning, everyone is up early. We peer upwards, but the bears are gone. Heimir starts the engine, and we slowly make our way through the ice. Belén is the first to spot him. “There! That yellow dot next to the white ice is his head.” Polar bears are indeed yellow, as it turns out when the bear curiously – or is it hungrily? – stares back. Leaning on his forepaws, he climbs nimbly onto the ice. For a moment, he poses before sliding into the water. I am amazed at the speed with which he moves forward. “Polar bears can swim 75 to 100 kilometres a day,” says Belén.
Explore Greenland with North Sailing
North Sailing is based in Húsavík, Iceland. With traditional wooden sailing ships, they organise expeditions in East Greenland. The journey departs by plane from Reykjavik in Iceland. During the last expedition of the season, you have the chance to sail the ship back to Iceland. A great adventure in itself, but with Húsavík being the whale-watching capital of Iceland, you have a chance to kill two birds with one stone. Interested in sailing along?
Join Ocean Missions as a volunteer
Belén García Ovide is also the founder of Ocean Missions. This foundation aims to map the ocean around Iceland in terms of the environment. They do this by taking paying volunteers to support the scientists. This way, they make scientific expeditions possible and help with research on microplastics, whales, birds, and pollution. Anyone with a heart for the ocean can sign up.
Bear Snacks
At Denmark Ø, Heimir drops the group ashore to explore the uninhabited island; he will pick us up on the other side. There are no accurate maps of the island, so we brace ourselves for a little adventure. Daiane the ship’s first mate, leads the way with the rifle, and Belén brings up the rear. After a first steep climb, we enter a realm of rugged beauty and icy wonders. From the tops of the mountainous island, with peaks rising sharply from the coast, you have a breathtaking view of the unspoiled wilderness. The sun is low and reflects warmly in a few small glacier lakes along our route. It could hardly be more idyllic… But then the radio crackles: “Belén, this is Tilvera, there are two polar bears at the landing spot, and they are hunting seals. Be careful and find a new landing spot for us.”
The adrenaline rushes through our bodies. Polar bears are formidable hunters, and we too are on the menu. We quickly decide on an alternative route and need to pick up the pace as the walk is now a bit longer. Steep descents, wading through marshy tundra up to our shins – it doesn’t matter to us. Never have we been so happy to see the Tilvera. With the setting sun in the background, she sails towards us into the bay. Everyone is relieved and excited and high fives are given once we are safely on board. Heimir shows his images: a mother and her young one chewing on a seal. I’m jealous.
Then the radio crackles: “Belén, this is Tilvera, there are two polar bears at the landing spot, and they are hunting. Be careful!”
The violence of the piteraq
In the Fønfjord, a wind with hurricane force suddenly pounds against the ship. “That’s a piteraq, a cold katabatic wind that is channelled from the Greenland Ice Sheet through the fjords,” Heimir shouts over the storm as he checks a hatch. “Fønfjord is a drainage pipe for ice sheet wind.” The rigging howls and the Tilvera bucks like an untamed horse on the wild waves. Fortunately, today it remains a brisk 37 knots, or force 8 on the Beaufort scale.
As quickly as the wind picked up, it dies down as soon as we turn into Røde Fjord. Beautiful rust-brown sedimentary mountains with a high iron content stretch along the water, against which several large icebergs have smashed to pieces, ending their journey here.
As the sun sets behind the horizon, we step into the zodiac and pull forward in the mirror-like water. The silence of the icy evening is only interrupted by the cracking and grinding of the icebergs. The bow wave of the zodiac sounds like ice cubes in a glass of whiskey. The cold bites at my cheeks and I can no longer feel my fingertips, but it doesn’t matter. The surreal beauty of fifty shades of blue around me makes me feel like I’m in a frozen Tolkien world.
Fønfjord is a drainage pipe for ice sheet wind.” The rigging howls and the Tilvera bucks like an untamed horse on the wild waves
As the expedition progresses, the nights get colder. The first pack ice begins to take hold of the fjords. Heimir has more and more difficulty navigating the Tilvera through it. A reminder that we will have to leave Scoresby Sund before too long. The wind picks up and we sail out of Nordvestfjord towards Bjørne Øer, the ‘Bear Islands’, named after the mountain ridge, that resembles a bear’s claws. We pass hundreds of icebergs, and then the sharp mountain peaks of Bjørne Øer emerge between the ice mist and the setting sun. For the last time, we set foot on Greenlandic soil for a BBQ under the northern lights. As the East Greenland wilderness prepares for the always-returning winter dominance of a harsh Mother Nature, we begin our 550-kilometre sailing trip through the Danish Strait, back to Husavik in Iceland.
Sail with Tilvera
In addition to the Greenland expeditions for North Sailing, Belén and Heimir also sail their own expeditions in the polar region. With the Tilvera, they offer purposeful expeditions to improve your relationship with nature and preserve our oceans in the Arctic regions and soon, worldwide. Join one of their Arctic (and soon Antarctic) sailing adventures in places like Svalbard, Jan Mayen, Lofoten, and Patagonia