The kayak has its origins on the world's largest island

Greenland is the world's largest island. Fewer than 60,000 people live here. The country is covered by up to 3,000-meter-thick inland ice. 18% of the land area, mainly along the western and southern coastal sections, consists of a very barren yet simultaneously beautiful and magnificent landscape intersected by long fjords that can stretch all the way to the inland ice. In some places, the inland ice reaches all the way to the sea, usually in the form of glaciers. The kayak has its origins in Greenland. It was by kayak that the hunters ventured out to hunt at sea.

We paddle at the latitude of Treriksroset

We paddle in the lee of a band of islands that forms the boundary westward toward Baffin Bay and the Davis Strait, which separates Greenland from northern Canada. It is raining and the wind is brisk. Beyond the low rocky islands, enormous icebergs slowly drift past southward. We, six paddling enthusiasts from Brunnsviken canoe club and our two Greenlandic guides Ti and Hans, set out a few days ago in our kayaks from the small settlement of Kangaatsiaq, roughly in the middle of Greenland's west coast. It is early September, and autumn is further along than back home. We are at approximately the same latitude as Treriksroset back in Sweden.

We battle tidal currents and test the dry suits

Already on the first day we get a taste of the forces of nature. The incoming tide means we can barely make headway when passing through a strait despite frantic paddling. Close to the shoreline it is somewhat easier. Our Inuit friends advise us that in the event of encountering a walrus, we should paddle close together and look fierce. Then it will back off. We never get the chance to test this tale. During a break I set down my paddle and, unfamiliar with the kayak – a rented one – I capsize and suddenly find myself hanging upside down beneath the surface. Fortunately, we have practiced for this eventuality. Through a so-called T-rescue – my nearest companion places their kayak at a right angle to mine and I grab hold of their bow and heave myself up with a jerk – I quickly get back into the right position, completely dry. A dry suit is a must here.

The beauty and silence of nature

We camp in tents, often next to abandoned settlements where an occasional dilapidated house may still stand as a temporary windbreak for hunters. Our first night turns out to be less cold than we had feared, but by then we have made use of all the warm clothing we brought and crawled into warm sleeping bags with proper sleeping pads underneath. The temperature drops several degrees below zero and there is ice on the puddles beside the tents. But the morning is fantastic. Dead calm. A low-hanging sun casts a yellow, warm light over fjords and bare mountains. The silence and solitude feel overwhelming. The low bush vegetation in the mountain crevices glows in colorful autumn hues. Most nights, large parts of the sky are filled with crackling northern lights.

Settlements, dogs, and sleds

We don't spend all our time in the wilderness. We also pass through a couple of settlements, villages, during the journey; each with about a hundred inhabitants. Greenlandic policy has long been to encourage people to move into the settlements in order to provide them with essential services such as schools, medical care, shops, etc. Families can then have a more comfortable existence while the men are out hunting and fishing. The standard of living is relatively high. People live in simple but good-quality houses. The utility pipes run on posts half a meter above ground. Around the houses, rows of Greenland dogs are tied up, surprisingly quiet except when food is being served. The dogs are not pets. They are used as sled dogs in winter. The sleds stand outside every house corner awaiting the coming winter.

We finish with paddling among the icebergs

After our long paddle, we take a passenger ship northward to Greenland's third-largest town, Ilulissat, located at Disko Bay and the Ilulissat Icefjord, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Through the fjord, the inland ice calves enormous icebergs that, after temporarily getting stuck at the fjord opening, continue out into the Atlantic. We borrow kayaks and paddle around in the area, though at a safe distance from the fjord mouth to avoid being endangered by rolling or calving icebergs.

Olle Persson