We headed back again to the mainland, through the procession of icebergs sometimes mired in fog through which the 24 hour light struggles to penetrate.
Oqaatsut
The convoy of ice ships was unending, stretched across the horizon.
The wispy underside of a low lying cloud can intersect the heights of a berg, and a ray of sunlight makes the ice walls seem on fire as they disappear skyward.
Behind, a glacier shimmers on the horizon.
A solid rank of bergs standing off the coast forced us up north and around them, to then find a lead inside back down to an isolated anchorage in a fjord. This was our northerly turning point at just short of 70° N, the farthest north until we return to try the Northwest Passage.
Close by is Oqaatsut, named for “cormorants”, with fewer than 50 inhabitants. This settlement is peppered across the saddle of a peninsula, makeshift harbour on one side and the Bay to the other.
Here were more huskies, half-tame working dogs it’s advisable not to try petting, patchy and ragged in summer coats.
Also resting up were the dogs’ sledges, snowmobiles, and the occasional kayak alongside beached runabouts.
More cod on racks, also waiting for winter, or possibly for export.
A cemetery has its graves dug into practically solid rock. Nearby, locals were enjoying the sunshine while eating a meal.
The terrain is rugged, particularly on the exposed Bay side, but the landscape here was perhaps the most beautiful of all the Greenlandic villages we were to visit.
Around Kiwi Roa the water was tropical blue and clear, while on the seaward side of the peninsula the ever present and unending ice drifted past.
