Arctic Expedition: First Landing ( Myggebugta & Kapp Humboldt )

Arctic Expedition

First Landing
( Myggebugta & Kapp Humboldt )

Previous: At Sea From Svalbard and a Greenland sea plunge

Photo Album: First Landing ( Myggebugta & Kapp Humboldt )

Video : First Landing ( Myggebugta & Kapp Humboldt )

After our dramatic plunge into the deep Greenland Sea, we actually got a decent night’s sleep. We woke to a calm morning, mist ribboning along the—yes, actual—Greenland coast. We’d made it!

The sky was sunny and clear, the water shimmered with golden reflections, and a few icebergs floated gracefully in the distance like lazy whales.

Our first landing on Greenland was... a pebble beach. Picturesque, sure, but where was border control? The welcoming committee? Not even a polar bear with a banner. Disappointing. There was a lonely little hut nearby, but no sign of life—unless you count the crew members getting their rifles ready, just in case a curious bear decided to say hello. They took up guard positions on the nearby hills like it was a Cold War spy thriller.

Gary, our ever-energetic Expedition Leader, led us to inspect the Sirius Patrol Hut—a kind of Greenlandic coast guard outpost. It had cages for sled dogs, a fuel heater, a couple of mysterious electric radiators (power source unknown—aliens?), a surprisingly well-equipped kitchen, a small library, and, crucially, a dunny. Comforts of home!

From there, we crossed a flat, swampy area and hiked up a hill for a panoramic view of the bay. The mossy ground was soft and spongey underfoot but not boggy—just enough bounce to keep things interesting.

As we climbed, the mist slowly lifted, revealing distant snow-capped peaks like nature drawing back a curtain. Another green valley appeared below, dotted with Dalmatian-style patches of snow. We even spotted a musk ox reclining in the snow like it had just finished a spa treatment.

Compared to the dramatic, jagged peaks of Svalbard, the Greenland landscape felt softer, greener—perhaps thanks to the lower latitude. Some of our group were spotting tiny, colourful wildflowers and insects. Yes, insects! Spiders, moths, and of course, the ever-popular Arctic mosquito—still somehow thriving. Nature really doesn’t take a holiday.

As we descended, more distant snow-covered mountains came into view, separated by wide stretches of swampy tundra. Back on the boat, we cruised further inland (and a little south) while enjoying a hearty lunch—soup, fish and chips, and salad. Just what the explorer ordered.

Later that afternoon, we landed at Kap Humboldt, a little delayed thanks to some icy traffic. But the views? Worth every slow, crunchy metre. Towering icebergs demanded camera clicks, binoculars were out in full force—but polar bears remained as elusive as ever.

Once ashore, we climbed steep tundra slopes toward the cape’s peak. Some sharp-eyed hikers found a lemming nest, though the residents were apparently out grocery shopping. At the top, we were rewarded with sweeping views into a majestic fjord, bathed in bright afternoon sun.

The lemming was probably out hunting....leaving the doors wide open.

On the way back to the boat, we noticed something alarming: the Sirius Patrol hut appeared to have had a polar bear break-in—claw marks on the door told the tale. Guess the bears were around after all.

Sirius Hut with signs of Polar Bear breaking in.

It's time to head back to the mothership...

That evening, long after 9 p.m., we cruised along the Kejser Franz Joseph Fjord. The low-angle sun turned the entire landscape into something out of a dream—golden light, crisp air, and silence so vast it almost echoed.