Cruise to Greenland aboard icebreaker Kapitan Khlebnikov

We are about to embark on a journey to places separated from the North Pole by only a few miles of frozen ocean. But first to Greenland, the largest island in the world, so named by Eric the Red in 985, to encourage settlers to move here from Iceland. In fact, 80% of the land is covered by a solid sheet of ice. Such a journey requires a special ship. The venerable Russian icebreaker Kapitan Klevnikov, built in Finland in 1981, has covered close to a million miles in both north and south polar regions. Those of us joining the ship for this leg of the journey fly to Kangalasek by charter plane from Ottawa, the capital of Canada. A sign at the airport lists the flying times to various destinations. The topmost arm shows 3 hours and 15 minutes to the North Pole. The school bus takes us the short distance to the point of embarkation for the Zodiacs. After donning life jackets, we head out for our long-anticipated rendezvous with the Klevnikov, which has reached this spot from Vladivostok by way of Siberia, Franz Josef Land, Svalbard, Iceland and the east coast of Greenland. We have been instructed on the importance of using the wrist grip before heading up the boarding ladder with our carry-on bags, containing our all-important cameras. Check-in baggage comes aboard by crane. Doesn't the brochure have such fantastic images? Does it? That's called marketing. All right, what we're going to do is reality. So I'm going to hand over the first part of the is that you are in charge of only one thing, that is the weather. She's joking of course, but the truth is that the weather ultimately decides what we can or cannot achieve during an expedition cruise of this nature. We are soon underway down the 90-mile-long fjord, which leads to open water and the town of Sissimut, 75 miles north of the Arctic Circle and Greenland's second largest town, after the capital Nuuk. The site has been occupied for 4,500 years and was settled by the Dutch in 1720, although whalers had been coming here earlier than that. The Danes took over in 1739. This will be the only port on the entire trip where the ship is able to come alongside, allowing us to walk ashore. Here we take on 700 tons of fuel at 60 tons per hour. As a memento of the era when she was built, the Kapitan Klebnikov still carries the hammer and sickle emblem above her distinctive icebreaker bow. The town's notice board carries a variety of announcements and it is clear that the local language goes in for very long words, containing lots of doubled letters. A local fishing boat heads out to sea. I'm not sure why this boat is towing a selection of plastic crates. Here a local Inuit man demonstrates his skill in righting his elegant and remarkably slender kayak. The Russian crew try their hand at fishing while awaiting the completion of fueling. Late in the day Klebnikov leaves her berth and slips out of the harbour. She is noticeably smooth and vibration-free with their triple screw diesel electric drive, employing six engines developing a total of 29,000 horsepower. We slide past rocky skerries as we head towards open water. Inuit guest lecturer Keteisi addresses us in the auditorium. Every iceberg has a soul, it has a human soul, so we have to be there because they've been on the land for centuries, for hundreds and hundreds of years, so when it finally comes into the water and becomes an iceberg, we have to really respect it. Our next destination is Ilulissat, at the mouth of the ice flow from the Jökulsárvon glacier, which discharges up to 20 million tons of ice per day. This map illustrates how far the glacier has retreated in recent years compared to the previous 100. When we come aboard the two helicopters are stowed in the hangar with the zodiacs on the aft deck. The time has come to deploy the zodiacs for immediate use and later to reload them on the forward deck. The helicopters are moved out. We watch local tour boats cruise among the towering icebergs and are anxious to join them. If there's anything you really hear about just let me know and I'll talk ad nauseum or take you over to where you want to see or give you the right photo angle, whatever you guys need. The glacier is a good 40 kilometers away, so there's a lot of ice spewing out here and it is the northern hemisphere's most productive glacier. So it's 10 kilometers across the glacier front, so really long, really deep fjord with a really wide front and the amount of ice it produces is astounding. So it's got an annual creep or flow rate of about 15 kilometers and if you take that all down it means it's moving about 40 meters per day, which again is a huge amount of ice. And another interesting point is the amount of ice it does dispense. Some of these icebergs are huge, like these ones are pretty big, but it goes even bigger. Some of them are the size of, you know, cars and buses and city blocks and small towns. They're insane. They've recorded a tidal wave produced by one of the carvings to produce a 10 meter high wave and so much ice is exported from this glacier that one of the days can be up to 20 million tons. What does that mean? That means New York's water supply for a year can be spilled from this glacier in a day. So a really almost incomprehensible amount of ice spilling out from this incredible glacier. It's clear, right? So it's the same stuff, it's just older. So what's happened here is, because it's older, it's been it's had thousands upon thousands of years of weight upon it, of glacier ice pressed upon it, which has compressed the air out of it. So the white stuff has just got more air in it. So this is a thousand year process, so it is upwards of 10,000 years old. Can I stand? Yes, you may. If you were to drink exclusively this water and not drink regular water, it's not got minerals in it. We returned to the ship for a tasty lunch and in the afternoon, head into the ice strewn Ililusat Harbor, followed by a demanding uphill hike to a viewpoint overlooking the ice fjord. Along the way, we passed the area reserved for some of the town's 2,800 sled dogs. A curvy boardwalk leads to a vista of staggering proportions and unimaginable beauty to which photography cannot begin to do justice. This is one of the few places where the Greenland ice cap reaches the sea, and the phenomenal outflow of 40 meters per day from this one glacier, the most productive in the northern hemisphere, is a sobering thought. The adjacent land clothed in vegetation and lichens of brilliant hue provides a vivid counterpoint to the dazzling ice. Truly a memorable day. An early 5 a.m. dawn reveals magnificent vistas and a placid sea adrift with spectacular icebergs. We pass a small anonymous village nestled at the foot of immense mountains. The town of Umenak is dominated by a mountain nearly 5,000 feet high. We are now at 70 degrees latitude and 600 kilometers north of the Arctic Circle. We speed ashore for the promised and rare dry landing. I notice several pallets of quality street candies sitting on the dock. These are a favorite luxury in the UK, usually reserved for special occasions. A colorful fishnet and an outcrop of deformed granite gneiss form interesting patterns. Late in the day, we move further up the fjord for a sightseeing helicopter flight over the Storr Glacier. The surface of the glacier is fragmented and treacherous with cobalt blue pools of meltwater. On our return to the ship, while underway back towards the open sea, we attend the captain's champagne party on the forward deck. Expedition leader Shelley gives a short address followed by a few words of welcome from Captain Vladimir Boldelov. The next day is spent at sea as we head north 400 nautical miles to Cape York. While underway, we have the option of attending a number of lectures in the auditorium. Sea ice is frozen salt water, frozen sea water. Glaciers, such as on the Greenland ice sheet here, that's fresh water, snow. Actually, I'm going to deal with what kind of earth we might see during the trip. We actually already see some of those since the start of the trip. The bridge of the Kapitan Klevnikov is open at all times except during critical maneuvering. Paper charts are used in conjunction with the electronic versions. This is one of two control stations. The weather prevents any landings at Cape York, which is hidden from view behind a veil of mist. We continue on to Parker Snow Bay at 76 degrees north latitude. Rugged mountains and floating castles of ice loom out of the mist. The Klevnikov drops anchor. We embark on a bumpy ride ashore. While the more athletic go for an energetic hike, I elect a potter examining rocks and colorful lichens. The ship relocates a few miles to Cominskite Bay, followed by a helicopter ride over the nearby glacier. We continue north to Kanak, previously named Thule, our last port of call in Greenland, before continuing on to the Canadian High Arctic. The town is hidden in the mist when we arrive, but the Zodiacs are launched. The base of the boarding ladder is obstructed by an errant ice flow. This is moved by the prop wash from the Zodiacs. It is a wet landing on a muddy beach. Shelley provides a briefing before we disembark. We meander through the town past colorful houses where both laundry and fish are hung out to dry in the chilly wind. A large satellite disc connects the town to the distant outside world, which brings obvious advantages, along with the downside of showing young people what they might lack in the way of opportunities. We visit the small museum and learn much about the techniques used to hunt seals using traditional methods, which are mandatory. Again, sled dogs are much in evidence, but both they and the sleds they pull await the onset of winter. Vegetation is sparse, but the fluffy heads of cotton grass dance like ballerinas in the chilly wind. We visit the cemetery high on the hill above the town. The flowers are all artificial, as real flowers do not grow or survive here. This is our last landing on Greenland, and from here we move on to Ellesmere Island and the Canadian High Arctic, which we will cover in part two.