To the ice

Skipper's update.

Lionel H: 5/07/2026

Salmon fishing on the River Lange was a success for Trumble, Charles Outhwaite’s son, who flew out to embarrass the rest of us. He caught two, one of which was delicious.

We reprovisioned and refuelled, at a horrendous price, in Reykjavík. (Fuel is about half the price in Greenland). Charles’ new shipment of wine was duly received. The cellars are now full again, with clarets from Woods Hill, stock from Mr Gosselin and the recent delivery. Whatever the threats ahead, thirst will not kill us.

We like the way that in the Faeroes and in Iceland Customs come to you in a van to do the necessary. They do not ask too many awkward questions, thankfully!

Our last Icelandic night was spent at anchor under the Reykjanes Peninsular 18 NM west of Reykjavik.

We sailed off the anchor in the morning of 29th June and all went well until we tried to furl the Genoa once out of the lee of the peninsula. It came in by one wrap, then the electric furler failed. We could neither furl or unfurl it and with a wrap around the forestay we could not get the sail down. Valiant efforts on a pitching bow by the bros. meant that about two hours later the sail could be laboriously wound in by hand, using a winch handle on the motor on the forestay. The staysail and a main, reefed and unreefed a number of times, took us to Greenland. We couldn’t lay our course at first, so sailed her free for comfort, knowing (hoping) that the wind would back as we went anticlockwise around the north of a low. We got lucky. The first 24 hours were fast and the second night was uncomfortable as the seas were large and for a while the wind went light so we slopped about with a lot of banging, above and below decks.

On our second morning we saw the first icebergs; big ones on either side, about 30 miles from the nearest land. Much excitement on board! Then the mountains came into view, snow capped and glaciated. As we closed the coast, quite close in, the wind died, the sun came out and we motored with mountains to starboard and a stately line of large icebergs to port; a wonderful variety of sizes and shapes shining in the evening sun, some with iridescent blues.

It was a most fabulous way to make landfall in Greenland and we dropped the hook off Tasiilaq at 11 p.m. after covering 410 NM in 63 hours. Celebrations involved a fine midnight supper, in full daylight of course, a magnum of Champagne (kindly given to us in St Vaast by Richard Jelf and Xenia Buckhurst), a magnum of claret and a bottle of vintage port. There was a slow start the next day to explore Tasiilaq (which does not take long) and to lunch ashore. Whale burger was off the menu because the whale needed another 24 hours in its marinade.

We were able to reprovision for the last time for a few weeks and buy a rifle for Polar Bear protection. Our passports were stamped with no questions asked.

A circumnavigation of Ammassalik Island provided two remarkable anchorages; one recognised and one not. Lunch was in a tiny, shallow, unnamed cove, now called Belle Colombe Bay, about two miles south of a recognised anchorage in which AIS told us there was a French yacht. Horrors! We passed a 37m Dutch yacht in the afternoon. That is the only yacht seen since leaving Reykjavík. The night was spent at anchor off the tiny settlement of Tiniteqilaaq. The pilot book says “it may be possible” to transit a very narrow passage from there to Sermilik Fjord. Red rags and bulls? We surveyed it first by dingy and got through with at least 24 inches under our lifted keel. Most dramatic squeezing through a very narrow passage, swerving a bergy bit in the middle and coming out into a huge fjord full of icebergs of extraordinary shapes, bergy bits and some brash ice we had to push through. One bit said hello with a resounding clonk! We had to go closer to the icebergs than recommended to get some drone footage

Everyone aboard is overwhelmed by the landscape of endless mountains, snow, glaciers, icebergs, bergy bits and growlers which we are trying to miss. Superlatives fail. We took some ice from the bergy bit when were in the dinghy this morning. Cocktails later. We have broken into the St Vaast Beaufort cheese and dried meat. Yum yum. We won’t starve either.

The weather is being kind. Yesterday there was not a cloud in the sky. Today is overcast to the south; but clear over the mountains to the north. Visibility is good, so we can see the bergy bits. The temperature is a balmy 12 degrees c.

After cleaning its diesel filter we think the Ebersbacher might now be working; but we don’t need it unless or until it gets colder.

The next stage takes us south to Prins Christian Sund. The ice maps say it is clear.
Morale on board is high.

Then we found the proper ice (and we did need the Ebersbacher)

Shortly after writing the above, as we were heading for our chosen overnight anchorage, having enjoyed a sublime lunch stop in fine conditions, we ran into brash ice which soon became thicker and we struggled to push our way through some quite chunky bergy bits and growlers. On the point of ordering a retreat (which would have committed us to a night at sea), we sent the drone up and it showed clearer water ahead. So we banged on through the ice making alarming crunchy and clunky noises, while around us the icebergs sighed and roared on the swell. Once or twice we had two men on the bow trying to trying to clear the way with Tuks (Ice poles). Some of the ice pieces looked like they had been sculpted by imaginative surrealists. They are stunningly beautiful. Eventually we found our anchorage in a bay on the SW side of Dannebrog Island in the Graahs Oer Archipelago. Swerving an iceberg and avoiding a known rock, we clipped an unknown one; now called Fooks Ledge! A hearty dinner was held in our sheltered bay which was shared with a number of substantial growlers, none of which attacked us in the night. It is now 6 degrees outside and 10 in the saloon.