Day 52

For the first time in 30 days, we have the unmistakable feeling that we are finally escaping the wilderness. An early start and a steep descent down an almost-dry waterfall bed into the Austmannadalen valley. Greenland was eventually living up to its name and turning green and beginning to feel alive. First a few vocal Ptarmigan then a white arctic hare cross our path. Within an hour we are sharing the valley floor with increasing numbers of Reindeer and making use of their trods to thread our way through the impossibly complex terrain that is already slowing our progress. By late morning we spot the first scattered signs of Innuit hunters presence with the occasional cairn or abandoned cooking spot, and then much to everyone’s delight we stumble on a pure white ‘Albino’ Reindeer – A local good luck omen.

At 1155 local time I ask the team to pause for a few minutes on top of a small hillock with glorious views down the valley. Almost two months ago on the very first day of the expedition as we sailed out of Stavanger, I received the stark news that a Royal Marine batch mate and close friend of mine, Sean Brady, had suffered a sudden and massive heart attack while out cycling with friends. His loss hit me hard and perhaps serves to emphasise even more the need to seize every opportunity to explore this glorious world whilst we have the opportunity. It was perhaps fitting therefore that on the very last day of the exped he was laid to rest in his local churchyard. I’m thankful to the rest of the team for giving me the time and space at the moment of his internment to quietly pay my respects to Sean in that majestic setting. A heartfelt toast from the hipflask of Ardbeg whiskey that had accompanied me across the Icecap, and a promise to keep living as rich a life as possible.

T.I.G. and Greenland still had some surprises in store for us. A 200m precipitous thrash through fiendishly dense undergrowth, only to emerge to face a 2km boulder hopping river bed, where any slip threatened broken ankles and more drama; a seemingly impassable ravine and associated speculative climb up the valley side more in hope than expectation; a glimpse of Amaralik fjord only to realise it was silt laden and not navigable to boats for several more miles; more steep moraine rolling underfoot; a treacherous animal trail over slick granite outcrops crowning the next headland followed by a dash across the open sands as the tide rapidly approached, and finally as we neared the believed pick up point with just mins to spare, the realization that there was one last steep ridge to climb over. T.I.G.

Distances in Greenland have a habit of expanding. Timings have a habit of becoming meaningless. But at 2030hrs, after 22 days sailing through big seas and dodging storms and 30 days of skiing, trekking and dragging across the icecap, and rather beautifully with a pair of eagles circling over our head, we finally reach the boat pick-up point. We had successfully followed Nansen’s route, sailing almost 1500nm from Norway and crossing Greenland from EAST → WEST. Exhausted, emotional, but absolutely elated. We'd done it.