Nuuk, I

Land ho! Can you find it?

Sergio and Byron (NOAA) surveying the coast

We approached Nuuk, Greenland on a dreary, rainy day. All the scientists huddled together with anticipation on the front deck, despite the wet and cold. The crew remained business-like and started getting lines ready for docking. We watched as the small rocky outcrops grew into a jagged coastline. Even though we were never in any danger during our transit, seeing solid earth triggered visceral emotions in me. I wondered if this was a tiny version of what ancient explorers felt when they saw shore after a long journey.


As we entered the fjord, I transitioned my instrument from sampling to idle mode. Down in my berth, I strapped on my walking boots and looked for my wallet stashed in the back of a dresser drawer, where it'd been existing without any use since we left Massachusetts.

Hans Egede, the European missionary who "settled" Greenland.

After docking, the science party all caught a cab into downtown from the ship yard. We had a cheerful dinner at a Thai restaurant which was universally recommended as the best in town. Greedily and happily, we breathed in our new surroundings. We enthusiastically ordered beers named for ancient Vikings. We examined the lime leaves from our Pad Thai and wondered out loud where they had been imported from. Even we when we saw how expensive everything was, we couldn't help but laugh at the novelty of paying for something.

Full and content after dinner, Byron and I strolled back to the ship. The rest of the science party went to their respective hotels to prepare for their flights home, but we'd see them on the ship the next day as they packed up their equipment.

Charming, even without several feet of snow.

The next afternoon, I ventured back into town with another grad student, Sophia from Columbia. As we walked and stretched our legs, I appreciated the ability to stroll aimlessly. The weather stayed grey but as we walked into the historic section of town, Nuuk became quaint and charming. Walking by colorful wooden cottages that did not once sway or retreat, I felt renewed.

Our "zero-air" generator. Getting under the hood.

During the rest of our port stop, I started making repairs to equipment. Our zero-air generator (ZAG) had been acting funny San Diego. "Zero-air" means air with zero contaminants (i.e. nitrogen + oxygen + a little bit of water vapor). We use zero-air as a control for our measurements. It is identical to ambient air except it lacks organic gases, so any signal measured during a "zero" is due to instrument noise, not actual gases.

Making some progress on the ZAG, I'd spend my afternoon hours walking around town. The ship was buzzing with activity again. A new team of oceanographers from UW had arrived and I was careful of staying out of their way as they did their heavy lifting. I was also steeling myself for the next three weeks, which we'd spend further north in the Davis Straight between Greenland and Northern Canada.

Leaving Woods Hole, I had vague notions that this cruise would be really tough but no details on how tough. Now, I entered the second leg with a storm under my belt. I was also excited and curious to see a different type of science from my own, and proper oceanographers at that. This team was very experienced and in the Davis Straight often. We would also venture to our northernmost destination, which meant the possibility of viewing the Northern Lights as well as icebergs. 

We left Nuuk on a clear, cold day. Snow sprinkled the deck and clouds on the horizon made beautiful blues and purples. It felt like a nice sign for our destinations up North. 

A sparkling winter day to set sail for the Davis Straight.