GREENLAND: DISKO BAY, DISKO ISLAND, AND ONE MORE FLIGHT OVER THE ILULISSAT GLACIER

June 16, 2019

Have you ever heard of Disko Island? No? Maybe you recognize its Greenlandic name, Qeqertarsuaq ("the big island")?  NO?? At 3,312 square miles, it is barely smaller than Corsica and a little larger than Crete and is the 84th largest island in the world. Eric the Red spent time here in the late 10th century. So why haven't you heard of it?

Well, unlike Corsica and Crete, it's not exactly a tourist destination. Located above the Arctic Circle, the entire island has a population of 1,100, most living in the only town, Qeqertarsuaq. (Yes, the same Icelandic name as the island.) Fewer than 50 people live in the only other settlement, Kangerluk, which can be reached by boat or air but not by road. There is one hotel in Qeqertarsuaq, and supposedly there is also one taxi driver. Since 1906 the University of Copenhagen has had a year-round research facility on the island known as Arctic Station.

Legend says that Disko Island was pulled north by a couple of strong kayakers who used a single strand of a newborn baby's hair for a tow rope. They got stuck in Disko Bay when a witch living in Ilulissat spotted them and put a curse on their efforts.

There may be change ahead for Disko Island. Air Zafari is beginning air tours of Disko Bay and Disko Island (we were one of their first customers on that tour), and locals are exploring the possibilities of amenities such as a ski slope, expanded hiking trips, and a hotel. Ten years from now, Disko Island may be a very different place.

During the evening of the same day that we cruised to Eqi Glacier, Bob and I and our friends Lori and Mark boarded a small plane, flew across Disko Bay, circled around Disko Island, and ended by flying over parts of the polar ice sheet on the mainland that we hadn't seen on our first flight.

Here's our plane. Though I've flown on quite a few now, these little planes still make me nervous:

Up, up, and away--straight over the bay!

ICELAND, REYKJAVIK: PUFFIN AND WHALE-WATCHING TOURS

June 10, 2019

We planned two boat tours out of the Reykjavik Harbor, one to look for puffins and one to look for whales. On previous trips, we had good success seeing puffins and whales in Alaska and whales in the Bay of Fundy, New Brunswick. We were sure Iceland would provide an even better viewing experience.

Wrong.

Let's start with the puffin cruise. We went with one other couple from our group, and the best part (just a bit of foreshadowing here) was that we got to put on these cherry-red moon-landing suits:

Riding in the rubber boat was like riding a horse; we straddled a padded seat and hung on to the bars in front of us. The boat was completely open, and yes, the suits did indeed keep us warm out on the water, as promised:

Our friendly guide pointed out landmarks along the way, such as the beautiful and very distinct Harpa Concert Hall:

When we asked our guide what this big green half-orb is, she shrugged and said, "Some kind of art."  I've learned that the 26-foot-tall mound of earth and grass is indeed meant to be art. It was created in 2014 by a local woman named Ólöf Nordal (who has an MFA in sculpture from Yale), who says it is "a place for inner peace and meditation." On top of the hill, which supposedly offers great views of the city, is a fish-drying shed. I have no idea if it gets used. Interesting.

CANADA: WHALE WATCHING IN NEW BRUNSWICK

In August 2018 Bob and I and my siblings and their spouses went on a cruise together from Boston to Quebec. My dear husband can never let an opportunity for additional travel go by, and I was longing for some time with our youngest son who lives in New York City, so we planned a four-day pre-trip rendezvous in Maine and New Brunswick.

Our plan was to meet at JFK airport, have a brief layover, and fly to Bangor, Maine, together. However, upon approach to JFK, Bob and I hit a terrible thunder storm with some of the most dramatic lightning I've ever seen from a plane window. We had to circle around the outside of the epicenter of the storm for an hour, and then when we finally landed, so did everyone else, making an unloading bay hard to come by. Two hours late, we finally met our son in the airport . . .

Goofy boys

. . . but of course our connecting flight to Maine was THREE hours late because of the storm. By the time we finally got to our hotel in Bangor, it was 4:00 AM, and the hotel had closed out our prepaid room at 3:00 AM because we hadn't shown up. It took another 45 minutes of haggling to get that resolved, and at 5:00 AM we collapsed, exhausted, into our beds.

Of course that meant our planned departure time of 8:30 AM didn't happen. Instead, we got on the road at 10:00 AM and headed for the Canadian border and then our whale-watching tour in St. Andrews, New Brunswick, scheduled for 1:30 PM. It was a 2.5 hour drive, so we thought we were fine.

A lovely drive with beautiful scenery

Yeah, right.

Did you know there is an Atlantic Time Zone that's an hour ahead of the Eastern Time Zone? We didn't. 10:00 was really 11:00, and now we were pushing hard to get there. Whenever we've crossed the Canadian border in the past, it's been a friendly wave through. Of course, that didn't happen this time when we were in such a hurry. Nope, we were sent to a "special inspection" area at the side of the road, where we waited and waited and WAITED until finally someone gave us the go-ahead.