We woke up at dawn for a journey that will forever be etched in our memories. There were many discussions about the decision to depart. The weather in Iqaluit was not in our favor, with a low cloud ceiling and predicted icing conditions at altitude. While ice isn’t a problem for airliners, it is a significant concern for general aviation aircraft, which mostly lack de-icing systems. Avoiding ice is paramount.
The psychological aspect of the journey was ever-present. We could feel the excitement building. The thrill of such a crossing was palpable, and flight safety was constantly on our minds. We had about 700 km of overwater flying ahead of us.
We reviewed the latest forecasts over breakfast. The departure was confirmed. Low clouds were expected in the valley right after takeoff from Iqaluit, but conditions should improve after an hour of flight. To avoid icing, we planned to fly at 3,000 ft (1,000 m) above ground level.
At the airport, we donned our dry suits. We focused on the flight but were also excited to reach this milestone in our journey. We put on life jackets and placed the life raft in an easily accessible spot. The fueler had just finished filling the tanks. After a final walk-around to ensure everything was in order, we were ready to go!
We departed at a limited altitude. The landscapes in the Iqaluit valley were stunning. The water hadn’t completely thawed yet, creating spectacular scenes. Shortly after an hour of flight, we exited the fjord and the ocean stretched out before us. All engine parameters were in the green, and fuel was not a concern for this first major crossing. We headed towards Greenland with great emotion!
The scenery, though similar, was endlessly fascinating. Water stretched to the horizon in every direction. The reflection of clouds on the ocean created a surreal atmosphere. The music in our headsets allowed us to disconnect from the world below during the flight. We constantly monitored engine parameters: “Temperature and oil pressure in the green.” A sense of freedom enveloped us, despite knowing we were at the mercy of the weather, potential mechanical failures, and out of radio contact with land due to the distances involved.
A long crossing means the need to eat. Don’t worry, we had it all planned! Though we weren’t flying in business class, all services were included (almost). We enjoyed a good sandwich, and the meal ended with an espresso from our portable Nespresso machine (What else?). Yes, we could enjoy good coffee even in the middle of the ocean.
After a few hours of solitude over the water, we finally heard a human voice. Nuuk Information, Greenland’s air traffic control, contacted us. We were getting closer to the coast. A few minutes later, we began to see land in the distance. The mountains of Greenland’s west coast came into view, giving us chills. An extraordinary landscape unfolded. The water was a mix of navy blue from the ocean depths and almost turquoise from the melting ice. Hundreds of small islands passed beneath us, and we finally saw Nuuk, the capital of Greenland.
WE ARRIVED! We finally landed on the tarmac of the airport, where we were warmly welcomed. Surprisingly, there were no customs officers… the controller told us, “I notified them; it’s their problem if they don’t come.” The quickest border crossing ever! We went up to the control tower, enjoying a panoramic view of this small airport that will welcome Airbus aircraft next year. The impact of mass tourism was becoming evident even in these remote, previously protected areas.
Once we reached the hotel, our day was not over. Flying was great, but we also needed to move! We went for a run, each at our own pace (and yes… the story doesn’t say who is faster). The fresh coastal air of Nuuk was invigorating. Colorful houses were scattered everywhere, with views of the fjord.
A total change of scenery to end a day that will undoubtedly remain memorable.
