The Browns' Mantra: Qaqortoq, Part 2, and Hvalsey

Continuing with our exploration of Qaqortoq on Thursday, August 7: With our provisions, Enis, Shalako and I returned to the boat. We decided to hike around Tasersuaq Lake, the water source for the town. I called Peter to see if he would be back in time for lunch, but he was at the top of the town, so I prepared food for the three of us, telling Peter to consider hiking at the lake. He was almost back when we finished eating, so I made a sandwich for him and we were just setting off for what we thought was a seven kilometer circuit when Peter noticed a sailboat coming in to dock, so he ran back to take lines for them and then caught up with us by the lake.

Going through the town, Shalako and Enis noticed a seesaw and gave it a try. This was near the school buildings. The city's school obviously educates locals and boarders from the surrounding area as there were several dormitory halls.

Shalako and Enis playing on the seesaw

We slowly rambled on our hike, even though we had a time limit since Enis had to join a work meeting at 4 p.m. We were enjoying the world around us and speculating on the geology of the area as well as where the power lines were going and whether they went underground or underwater in places. It was yet another sunny day but chilly, so we were still wearing several layers. Two boys in wetsuits were jumping from the rocks into the lake with big splashes. Further on, we saw women and girls going in with only shorts and shirts. The south side of the lake has a frisbee golf course on the tundra, but no one was playing. An iron sculpture detached from its post and now lying atop a glacial erratic also added to the landscape.

Tasersuaq Lake

Boys jumping into the lake

Course sand at the edge of the lake

Sculpture by the lake

Iceland poppies

Frisbee golf course

Black crowberry, which locals pick

Non-native Nootka lupines and native meadow buttercup

The obvious trail petered out, but we sighted a large cairn. Shalako advised us to add a stone to prevent mishap or even death, based on his memory of the horrific deaths of those who neglected to do so in the 1965 movie The Naked Prey.

Enis and Shalako at the cairn

Peter placing a rock on the cairn

We found many rust-colored bogs, where bog iron has formed through a biochemical oxidation of dissolved iron in water, facilitated by bacteria. (At L'Anse aux Meadows, we had watched a short historic film on the process the Norse used to make an iron bloom, a porous mass of iron and slag produced though smelting and then further refined by separating the slag out and then pounding the bloom to remove the air bubbles. The two-day process created a chunk about the size of a small loaf of bread.) Growing nearby and in these bogs was cotton grass (actually a sedge), with its white filaments all blowing out from their stems in the light breeze.

Boggy area near the lake

Cotton grass

Iron-rich bog

Originally, we had thought we would walk the entire trail around the lake, but we had to turn back. Enis had his meeting, and a couple of British people from the cruise ship going the opposite direction on the trail told us that the trail totally disappeared further ahead and they had needed to do lots of strenuous rock scrambling. The woman was knackered.

The four of us went off in various directions when we arrived back in town. Peter had mentioned that the seal processing plant had a shop that he had stopped in, so I went in that way, looking for souvenirs for our kids. Shalako planned to join me after he stopped at the grocery store. The other two returned to the boat, Enis to work (very) remotely and Peter to work on the boat. Fortunately, his hunt for a heat source for the rudder bearings had been successful; he had purchased self-regulating pipe heating cable and was sure it would allay our worries and allow the rudder to turn smoothly.

I walked toward the waterfront seal processing facility, which is operated by Great Greenland and owned by the government of Greenland. Some cynics on board questioned the ethical nature of the company, but all the sealskins originate from wild animals that have lived naturally and have been caught by native Inuits in accordance with their traditions and in compliance with EU seal hunting legislation and with approval from the World Wildlife Fund and Greenpeace.

After I passed the dock where the cruise ship passengers were being loaded and unloaded, I found "Do not enter" signs and barricades blocking the easy approach to the factory. Google Maps indicated that I would need to go up the hill behind the large building and back down to reach it, which was a steep trek. I was halfway up the hill and not looking forward to more climbing, so I called Peter to confirm that this was the only route, which he did. By then, it was near 4 p.m., so I feared I would find it closed if I continued, so I turned back. Along the way, I kept my eyes out for Shalako, who intended to catch up with me, but I never encountered him.

In town, I entered the black-tarred museum building, thinking I only had ten minutes to take a quick peek, but, because of the cruise boat tourists, it was opened until five. In one room all four walls are covered with black and white photographs from the late 19th and early to mid-20th century. Dozens of them are family portraits, all of them featuring a European male, an Inuit woman and a half dozen or more children with Inuit phenotypes. Another room features carvings; in another is traditional Inuit clothing. I loved the boots, which are made in the Inuit style but also include manufactured floral cloth and hand-crocheted lace, and the large beaded collars. Also on display in this part of the two-building museum are three hunters' kayaks and their accoutrements.

Women's boots

Beading with European beads and traditional patterns

Inuit kayaks

Detail of harpoon and skin of the boat

The black-tarred building housing the museum was the headquarters of the colonial Greenland Trading Company and the most important edifice during this time. It is a two-story structure with a accommodating attic which housed the only two guest rooms in the city. Refurbished when the museum was created, the rooms were used by notable visitors. The noted Greenlandic-Danish polar explorer and anthropologist (and the first European to cross the Northwest Passage [along with two Inuit hunters] via dog sled) stayed in the "Blue Room" in the first half of the 1920s. Charles and Anna Lindbergh stayed in the "Red Room" for three weeks in the summer of 1933 as part of their survey trip to explore potential commercial aviation routes. (Photos show the beds having curtains and additional items in the rooms.)

The Blue Room

The Red Room

The trap door to the attic

The smaller building of the museum, the yellow-painted stone blacksmith shop, also has fascinating items and historic descriptions about Inuit culture and Norse settlement trends. I noticed some large paddles, about eight feet long, with dinner plate sized and shaped blades. The man overseeing the museum told me they are paddles for the women's canoes. No women's canoes are on display, but he explained to me that they are much longer and wider than the kayaks, and a few women would paddle them, transporting families, household supplies and food (everything except the hunting gear) when the groups moved seasonally.

Along the way back to the boat, I noticed traditional hunting kayaks on racks in a shed and on the grass below them two without their skins, showing how the hull is made, mostly with finely bent wood.

Two uncovered kayaks

The men were all on board when I returned to Mantra. I told Shalako that I had tried to intercept him, and he told us that he had made it to Great Greenland before it closed, looked around the informational displays and decided that the goods in the shop are too expensive and aimed toward women from cruise boats. When I commented on what a long walk it up and over the hill and mentioned that I had turned back, he grinned and said he just walked along the water. I asked if the signs had been removed; he said that he had ignored them as well as barricades and yellow tape and then crawled through a hole in the fence to get to the premises! What a rule-breaker!

A French boat and a Danish, both designed specifically for cold-weather/water sailing were now on the dock with us. Wouter (the builder and owner) and his friend Mark from the Danish sailing vessel Langa came over to see our boat, having heard about but never seen a Sundeer, and then we visited them on Langa. Wouter had designed and, with help from friends, worked every day for a year to build this stunning vessel, with an accommodating pilot house on deck; tables on both sides of the boat with comfortable seating and one in use as the nav station just inside; and, below that, the saloon and two cabins, both with queen beds. Double paned windows are just one of the enviable features. The overall design and every detail showed thoughtfulness and fine attention to detail, and the boat was immaculately clean with no clutter.

After dinner, Enis continued to work, I wrote the last blog post and Peter started wiring and installing the pipe heating cable. Since he was working so diligently, I stayed up to wait for him--a mistake since he labored in the tight space, with occasional appearance down below, until 2 a.m. However, his installation was complete and the next day we were delighted to find that the wheel once again can be turned smoothly without force. (My hero again!)

On Friday morning, August 8, we prepared to leave Qaqortoq. Enis walked into town for coffee and bought a couple loaves of fresh bread, so we had bread with butter, jam, honey and/or Nutella for breakfast. Peter investigated the best ways to take on diesel and water in the little harbor and then we began. Peter steered Mantra backwards, Shalako ran to a fishing vessel near the fuel dock to take a bow line, and Enis jumped off with lines when the stern was by the fuel dock.

Taking on fuel while tied at the stern to the dock and at the bow to another boat

While we were fueling, I took a last walk close to the fuel station. Inuit men from north of Qaqortoq had butchered and were selling reindeer meat nearby. Enis had taken photos of the actual butchering earlier, but I didn't want to see them.

Fresh reindeer

After fueling, we tied up to the end of a dock, about six feet wide, in the marina, to take on nearly 400 gallons of water. Shalako controlled the spigot while onboard Peter and I monitored how full the tanks were getting. Meanwhile, Enis went off with one of our two liquid propane tanks, which we have emptied since Portland, Maine, to search for a refill. (No luck, but we will be fine until Scotland.)

Enis relaxing on the marina dock before departure

By the time we completed all our preparations, it was 2:45 p.m. We motored out of the harbor and then sailed up Hvalsey Fjord, going dead down wind first and then switching to a beam reach, and arrived at the head of the fjord where we anchored in a cove at 7:15 p.m. Along the way, icebergs floated by and tall treeless mountains (perhaps 2000-2500 feet tall) rose up around us, with snow and small glaciers visible in the high distance. The thin layer of soil, sparse vegetation and bare outcrops of the tundra reveal the Precambrian bedrock, some of the oldest on the planet. Specifically, the local Itsaq Gneiss Complex, part of the larger Laurentian Shield, has undergone multiple metamorphic and deformational events and is known for its extensive record of crustal evolution between 3.9 and 3.6 billion years ago.

Mantra sailing up Hvalsey Fjord

Iceberg from the saloon port window

Mountains at the end of Hvalsey Fjord

Peak along Hvalsey Fjord

Bare bedrock above the tundra

Roommates enjoying the adventure

As we anchored, the last of three loads of laundry was washed, and Shalako finished his task of hanging it on the lifelines. We take advantage of sunshine for drying clothes whenever we can. When the air temperature cooled before the 10:15 p.m. sunset and a bit of dampness snuck in around us, we brought the sheets and clothes inside to hang them on lines over our bed and in the saloon. Old small laundry basket load was not dry by our late bedtime, so we folded it up to put outside again the next day.

Shalako hanging laundry

With full tanks, we enjoyed the luxury of hot showers to go along with our clean sheets, played a game and went to bed.

The next morning, Saturday, August 9, it was still and cloudless until about 9:30, when local fog set in. This did not deter Peter from going out on the paddle board to explore. By the time he returned and we had finished breakfast, the bright sun was making everything seem vibrant, and, at 11:30, Enis set off on the paddle board and the other three of us took off in the dinghy to visit the Hvalsey ruins. We picked up Enis about halfway along the mile or so ride.

Perfectly calm water

Peter paddling in the fog

Enis paddling toward Hvalsey ruins

The Hvalsey ruins, one of the five locations of the Kujataa Greenland/UNESCO World Heritage Site, has the best preserved Norse ruins in the area known as the Eastern Settlement. This settlement was the first and by far the larger of the two main areas of Norse Greenland, settled between 985 and 1000 AD by men from Iceland, who were led here by Erik the Red, who was exiled from his homeland due to murderous activity. At the peak of population, the area had about 4,000 inhabitants. In this area, approximately 5,000 groups of ruins of Norse farms are found, including 16 church ruins. The economy of the medieval settlements was based on livestock, mainly sheep and cattle, but there were also goats, pigs and horses. Seal hunting and later fishing supplemented the agricultural activities. Hunting expeditions to north and east Greenland allowed them to obtain walrus and narwhal ivory and polar bear skins for trade on the European market. The Little Ice Age of the 14th century may have contributed to the total abandonment of the Greenland settlements in the early part of the 1400s, and some oral traditions allude to a conflict between the Norse and the native Inuit.

The Hvalsey ruins are what is left of the farmstead established by Erik the Red's uncle, Þorkell Farserkur, in the late 10th century. The ruins are intriguing and picturesque, showing fine masonry. In addition to the church, there are ruins of 2 great stone halls and an additional 14 houses as well as portions of the walls around the farmstead and farm structures. The church, measuring 16 meters by 8 meters (52 by 26 feet) along its sides with walls up to nearly 1.5 meters (5 feet) in depth, and is exceptionally well-built from carefully chosen stones and is the most intact ruin on the site. The walls would have been 4 meters (13 feet) high. Archeological evidence indicates that the building was plastered with ground mussel shells and was roofed with timber and turf.

Enis dwarfed by gneiss bedrock with dark intrusion

Hvalsey Ruins

Peter, Enis and Sherri on the beach by the ruins

Shalako, Peter and Enis on the trail to the church ruin

Patches of fog over the water

Arched window

One of the halls

Peter among the flowers and plants

Hiking with bug hats

Prolific wildflowers were blooming all around the ruins. At only a slightly higher elevation, the low lying tundra vegetation became predominant--not as colorful but equal in beauty with its more subtle shades and interweaving of plants and lichen. The flora is interdependent with a large insect population, which required our wearing out bug hats. Above the vegetation, Bare monoliths loomed.

After exploring the ruins and the farmstead area, we returned to the dinghy and the paddle board after going on the dock to admire the clarity of the water. This time, Peter used the paddle board, even stripping down to just a t-shirt on top, basking in the abundant sunshine. Back at Mantra, I made lunch preparations while Enis, who had spotted one fish on the dinghy ride, decided to try to catch one. The hook went down, the fish came out. In no time, Shalako had caught two more Atlantic cod. Peter brought out the smoker, and the menu for dinner was set. The fish was gutted and put in the refrigerator for later.

The water from the dock

Peter paddling in shirtsleeves!

View from the dinghy

Three men, three cod

At 4:00 p.,m., we weighed anchor and set off to find another anchorage. The weather was beautiful, and we played a game of Farkle in the pilot house and admired the icebergs and the scenery. The first anchorage we tried was very deep and didn't offer protection on all sides, so we continued on. By then, the temperature had dropped noticeably and clouds had started to accumulate, so I came below for the rest of the day. At 7:45 p.m., they dropped anchor in an uninhabited cove named Sassivuk. I made a side dish (or main meal for me) to accompany the smoked fish, which was prepared outside. The fish received high praise.

Three happy diners

It is now Sunday, August 10, and the rain which commenced in the early morning hours continues intermittently, enough for us to collect water--but are tanks are almost full and no one wants to set up the rain collection equipment in the cold and damp. The admiral (me) required the captain to turn on the generator for more heat than was being produced from the tiny space heater when the inside temperature dropped to 58 degrees Fahrenheit. We were all shivering despite layers of clothes and the stretching workout we had before lunch. It took more than two hours for the temperature to reach 70 degrees with the main heater. The generator has been off for over an hour and the temperature is down to 62 degrees. Enis and Shalako have been sleeping under heavy duvets for the last couple nights, and I am sure I will be using the hot water bottle again today.

Peter has been the only one venturing outside today, evoking in our minds the phrase about ignoring the weather conditions: "Only mad dogs and Englishmen." Meanwhile, we are bundled up and enjoying what creature comforts we can.