A trip report by Olle Persson.

Where the kayak was born

Greenland is the world’s largest island, home to fewer than 60,000 people. Most of it lies under an ice sheet up to 3,000 metres thick. Only a small part of the land, mainly along the west and south coasts, is free of ice – a barren but magnificent landscape cut by long fjords that sometimes reach all the way to the ice sheet. In places the ice meets the sea as glaciers. This is where the kayak was born: hunters used it to go out to sea.

Paddling at the latitude of northern Sweden

We paddle in the shelter of a chain of islands facing Baffin Bay and the Davis Strait, which separate Greenland from northern Canada. It is raining and the wind is fresh. Beyond the low rocky islands, huge icebergs drift slowly south. We are six paddlers from Brunnsvikens kanotklubb, a canoe club in Stockholm, and two Greenlandic guides, Ti and Hans. A few days ago we set off from the small settlement of Kangaatsiaq, roughly halfway up Greenland’s west coast. It is early September and autumn has come further than at home – we are at about the same latitude as Sweden’s northernmost point.

Tides and dry suits

On the very first day we feel the forces of nature. The incoming tide means we barely make progress through a sound, despite frantic paddling; it is a little easier close to the shore. Our Inuit friends advise us to paddle close together and look angry if we meet a walrus – then it backs off. We never get to test that advice.

During a break I put my paddle down and, unused to the rented kayak, capsize and suddenly hang upside down underwater. Luckily we have practised exactly this. With a T-rescue – my closest friend puts his kayak at a right angle to mine, I grab his bow and pull myself up – I am quickly upright again. A dry suit is a must here.

Beauty and silence

We camp, often next to abandoned settlements where a crumbling house still serves as a shelter for hunters. The first night is less cold than we feared – but by then we are wearing every warm layer we have, inside warm sleeping bags on thick mats. The temperature drops several degrees below zero and the puddles by the tents freeze. But the morning is fantastic. Not a breath of wind. A low sun casts warm golden light over fjords and bare mountains. The silence and solitude are overwhelming, and the low shrubs in the rock crevices glow in autumn colours. Most nights, the northern lights fill large parts of the sky.

Settlements, dogs and sledges

We are not only in the wilderness. Along the way we pass a couple of settlements with around a hundred inhabitants each. Greenland has long tried to gather people in settlements so it can provide schools, healthcare and shops. Living standards are fairly high: people live in simple but well-built houses, and water and sewage pipes run on posts above ground. Greenland dogs lie tied up around the houses, surprisingly quiet except at feeding time. They are working dogs that pull sledges in winter, and the sledges stand by every house waiting for the snow.

Among the icebergs at Ilulissat

After the long paddle we take a passenger ship north to Greenland’s third largest town, Ilulissat, on Disko Bay by the Ilulissat Icefjord, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The ice sheet calves huge icebergs into the fjord; they stick at the mouth for a while before drifting out to sea. We borrow kayaks and paddle around the area – but at a safe distance from the fjord mouth, away from icebergs that may roll or calve.

Gear for cold-water paddling

Paddling in Arctic waters calls for the right gear: a dry suit, wool layers and neoprene gloves. A stable sea kayak with large hatches and dry bags makes multi-day trips possible, and many paddlers love a Greenland paddle – the same type the hunters used. Read more about clothing and safety in cold water.

Not heading to the Arctic just yet? Get a taste of Nordic paddling in Stockholm – rent a kayak or a dry suit from us on Långholmen, or join a guided kayak tour in English.

Text: Olle Persson