Christian Tiedt
· 19.07.2026
Text: Heinz Klausmann
Tracks from previous voyages guide Lionel safely into a side fjord. “We’re anchoring ashore today,” promises the captain. That’s not true. But that’s what it looks like on the map. The available chart data is unreliable. The land boundaries are imprecise and water depths are not indicated in large areas. Fjords, islands, mountains and places are often labelled differently.
After hours of carefully feeling our way, the ‘Varuna’ reaches a magnificent anchorage. And there it is: the view of the Greenland ice sheet. A relic of the last Ice Age, this seemingly endless frozen shell covers four-fifths of the island. In places, it rises to a height of up to 3,000 metres. Greenland’s population of just over 55,000 lives in the coastal regions.
On today’s excursion, the sense of isolation is overwhelming. Not a single settlement, not a soul in sight. Rocks smoothed by glacial ice, yet lush vegetation lining the clear streams. Fantastic views of the ice, both on land and on the water, and Ankerbucht deep below us. All enveloped in a profound silence.
On board, roast duck and a salad with sorrel from the edge of the ice round off the nature experience. A cosy atmosphere pervades the ship. Spacious cabins and comfortable bathroom facilities offer plenty of privacy. The saloon becomes a meeting place and a forum.
Running parallel to the Sermilik Fjord, we sail from the Stoklund Fjord through the Ikaasak Sound into the wide Qeertartivattaap Kangertiva Fjord. We drop anchor in a sheltered bay with a depth of twelve metres. Lionel and Ronan make a well-coordinated team.
Whilst our captain sets off on a reconnaissance flight with the drone, a blue-and-white behemoth approaches our floating accommodation from the port side. Iceberg alert! Stay calm! However, after a slight collision with the stern, the monster heads back towards the shore without any intervention on our part.
We have two days to explore the mighty mountains around us. On the slopes of the imposing Neerernartivaq, the polished rocks bear witness to the immense force of the glaciers of the Ice Age. The view of the fjord dotted with icebergs and the mighty foothills of the inland ice sheet makes the three-hour climb well worth the effort. Even the extraordinary footage captured by Lionel’s drone fails to do justice to the fascination of the landscape.
Ronan explains the distinctive features of Arctic vegetation. Unlike in our latitudes, birch and willow trees here do not grow tall. They adapt to the climatic conditions by developing broad, shallow root systems and, in sunny areas, form low, interwoven mats that cover even large areas. During the short summer, the sun coaxes an explosion of vegetation out of the permafrost. Along the streams and lakes, the flora shines with Scheuchzer’s cottongrass, Arctic willowherb and black crowberry.
We want to reach the calving glaciers at the edge of the inland ice sheet. Lionel manages to steer the ‘Varuna’ through the icebergs drifting ever more densely around us as far as the island of Immikkeertivajik. We’re getting closer. As the wall of ice grows ever denser, the drone takes off again to scout the area in the still air. There’s no way through. Far from civilisation, it’s essential to let nature take its course.
Lionel sets a course. Heading south-east, we leave the side fjord and head towards Sermilik. A chilly headwind drives the crew into the deckhouse. Imposing icebergs line the route to the north. Gianluca is thrilled. The cloud cover provides diffused light. Perfect conditions for photographing these silent giants. It’s already afternoon by the time we reach the safe anchorage in a distant western side-fjord. The sun dispels the clouds – time for an excursion! A dreamlike lake with stunning vegetation vies with the exotic rock formations for the title of the day’s highlight. Pure nature in perfect tranquillity.
Not a breath of wind. The ‘Varuna’ is safe. Lionel can take the crew across in the dinghy to the remote end of the bay. At low tide, landing is straightforward, though the path to the waterfalls cascading down from the inland ice is arduous. But it’s well worth the effort. The masses of water rushing down into the valley are just as impressive as the view of the ice and the peaceful bay with the yacht below us. We are a long way from ‘Varuna’. And even further still from the familiar world. Together, we savour the sights and share our experiences.
We can’t go any further on the water here. Lionel is steering with the utmost caution. But the ice is getting denser and denser. It’s better not to get trapped in the thin pack ice and drift for several days, unable to manoeuvre. The ‘Varuna’ would certainly survive it. But the nerves of all the other passengers might not. Even a final reconnaissance flight by the drone reveals no safe route. So we set a course south. As the rain begins to fall, a sense of farewell is already setting in.
The sun over the icebergs, idyllic anchorages in deserted fjords, walks through remote wilderness and the shared experience of something so special have left a lasting impression. Time for a touch of melancholy? Fortunately, there are still some unexpected culinary highlights to round off the trip. We go fishing off Tiilerilaaq. With his fishing rod, Captain Lionel reels in a magnificent cod from the cold Greenlandic sea.
A short while later, the catch ends up in Luse’s expert hands and, shortly afterwards, is served as ceviche and fillet with a delicious side dish to the delighted crew. On their final hike together, Ronan also forages for some wonderful birch mushrooms, which – bypassing the supply chain – soon take centre stage at lunch.
And on the return journey to Kulusuk, a lovely half-wind allows the ‘Varuna’ to fulfil her true purpose as a sailing yacht, at least for a short stretch. She seems to be enjoying herself, because she can sail. In fact, she’s really good at it.

Editor Travel