Greenland Part 1

I had wanted to visit Greenland for years. When I got wind of the fact that the company I worked for had business there, I immediately made known that I was interested in getting in on it. Nearly two years later, in 2008, the perfect opportunity emerged. They were upgrading the BMEWS (Ballistic Missile Early Warning System) radar at Thule Air Base way up in Pituffik, and some of the contractors doing the work needed escorts. Myself and another guy named John were ultimately chosen for the task. They predicted our deployment would last two weeks, but extensions were possible-to-likely. As it happened, we were to go during the coldest, stormiest, and practically darkest time of the year there, late-January/early-February.

Thumbnails with white borders around them are links to pages with multiple pictures.
All pictures by me unless otherwise noted.

As I watched the sun go down from my hotel room in Maryland two nights ago, it strangely didn't occur to me that that would be the last sunlight I see for at least two weeks. The flight out of Baltimore left around 2:00 in the morning, non-stop to Thule AB, Pituffik, Greenland. When they told me we were going up on a chartered military flight, I was expecting a pretty harsh 6+ hour trip. Loud, cold, drafty, uncomfortable. Turns out it was just like flying commercial (almost). The plane was a DC-8, modified to accomodate mostly cargo instead of passengers. The passenger cabin was tiny, only holding about 30 people or so, but otherwise it was just like any other flight I've ever flown, with full on-board service. It was drafty under my seat, but draping the blanket behind my legs helped.

Air Greenland just recently began regular commercial flights to the US

I was in the last row all the way at the back. This is how big the entire passenger cabin was.

When was the last time we saw metal utensils on a plane?

We touched down around 9:00. As we disembarked from the plane I steeled myself against a cold which I had heretofore never experienced. It was cold. Damn cold. Around -20°F (-29°C). Waiting at the bottom of the staircase was a line of people to welcome each of us, individually, shaking our hands. Someone was also standing by taking our pictures as we made our way down this line of welcomers. Before I shook the first hand, though, I had to pick myself up off the ground. Yes, my first footfall on Greenlandic soil turned into a slip. Fell right on my ass first step off the staircase. Pretty embarassing, but they assured me that this is quite common. Much of the roadways and such here are glazed over with hard-packed, windswept snow which can be extremely slippery in places. I'm just glad I didn't shatter my coccyx or something. Wouldn't that be fucking brilliant, injuring myself instantly upon entering the country.

From there we immediately entered a building and went through some official business, got our checked baggage and made our way to trucks waiting out back. Our contact here, Charley, drove us around a little bit, and brought us to our barracks. Strangely, John & I were placed in separate buildings. He was put with all Americans and I with all Danes. My room was nice, but was lacking a blanket and pillow. Before I could unpack, Charley came by and took us up to the radar site (BMEWS), which is where we were to "work". I use quotation marks because what we're doing can hardly be called work. The site is 12 kilometers inland, not too far from the edge of the ice cap. Unfortunately, the pitch blackness did not allow us to actually see anything other than the vaguest of ghostly whiteness in the distance.

We entered the site in the bitter cold and late-morning darkness. Something was amiss with our paperwork so we were stuck inside the little entry cage for a good half-hour before they finally they let us in. Once inside, Chester, the facility guy, showed us around the place. It was quite impressive. Lotta cool, old electronics systems that you get the impression would continue humming along into the next millenium were they allowed to. Real solid warhorses, not this new flimsy plastic crap that's designed to be replaced every couple years or so. I really miss that old style of design. The whole site is reminiscent of that bygone era (the radar was built in the early-'60s).

BMEWS in the early-morning darkness

The warning sign at the entrance, in English, Danish, and Greenlandic

Around this time I'm starting to feel a little punchy considering I didn't sleep on the plane. The day's coming to an end (figuratively, that is, as there is no day at all) so we head back to the base where we stopped at the BX (base exchange). I expected a very minimalistic store selling only the barest of essentials. I was surprised to see almost everything one could want in there: all manner of food, drink, supplies of all kinds, magazines, DVDs, souvenirs. I picked up a bottle of Danish caraway schnapps called akvavit, which I had heard was much like the (in)famous Icelandic brennivín, along with some interesting-looking chocolates. We also stop by the supply house and pick up our Arctic survival gear, which we're required to carry around with us in case we get caught outside in a sudden storm (which they call "phases" for some reason). I opt to wear the issued parka instead of my own coat as it's much, much nicer. Charley & Chester then brought us back to my barrack where our vehicle was waiting for us. They retired to their quarters, which just happens to be diagonally across the street from me, and John took the truck to his barrack.

I finally unpack. It is a lovely experience, being able to set up in a place and kinda get settled like this. In all my nearly 10 years of traveling around the world, I don't think I've ever really had a chance to unpack and really settle in somewhere. I've always had to be basically either ready to move on the next day, or was confined to some corner of someone's room or something. It was really comforting to be able to sorta make home. John swung by a little later and we went for dinner at the dining hall. The selection was astounding considering how few people were there. It's buffet style and insanely cheap. $1.70 for breakfast and $3.30 for lunch and dinner. The food isn't exactly 5-star quality, but it's quite good. Sometimes really good, and the fact that it all has to be brought to this remote outpost makes the price simply ludicrous. Obviously it's heavily subsidized by the government. After dinner we decide to check out the Top Of The World club, or "TOW club" as it's known in this acronym-obsessed culture. This is the fine-dining establishment of the base and actually requires membership to eat in the dining room there (the rabble can eat in the bar). We went in to see well-dressed people cavorting about like any other night out in a fine restaurant. You didn't get the sense you were on an air base deep in the Arctic. We sat down at the bar, had a beer, and chatted a bit with the bartender. Things were rather dead so we didn't linger.

The divine dining hall with the Charlie Brown Christmas tree out front

Inside the dining hall

Dave, Chris, and Jesse having their dinner interrupted by an annoying cameraman

I took the truck and dropped John off. Walked in to my barrack to find my co-denizens in the common area all drinking and carousing. They didn't even let me get to my room before inviting me to join them. After managing to break away for a second to put my coat and stuff in my room, I head back out and join them. Merriment and camaraderie amongst total strangers insues as only the free flow of beer, bourbon, and whiskey can bring about. I am delighted beyond belief and even learn the Danish word for the number 4: fire (pronounced similar to "fear"). This came up because I'm staying in room number 4, so, they astutely observed, I am living in "fear". I offer them some of my akvavit, but there are no takers. Guess this stuff is as well-loved by the locals as brennivín is.

The group breaks up relatively early as everyone has to work the following day. I go to my room and settle in for the night, still with no pillow or blankets. This does not phase me in the least. Given the conditions I've endured in my travels, just having a bed is a luxury beyond compare. So, I use my pants as a pillow and cover up with a couple of sheets, hoping it will be warm enough. Much to my surprise, I'm roasting! It's actually too friggin' hot and I have to open my window in order to get comfortable. Amazing. Woke up at around 7:00 and went in for a shower. The rest of the building is uncomfortably hot and I end up taking a cold shower to cool off. One thing I didn't expect up here was being too hot.

Hopped in the truck, picked up John, and headed up to the site. We still didn't have the badges we needed due to the paperwork still not being in order, so we couldn't actually start our escorting duties. In the meantime, Charley gave us a more informative tour around the site, then we hung out a bit more while we waited for our badges to come. They ended up coming towards the end of the day, and we finally got underway. I don't know I've ever felt more useless in my life. I just had to follow these people around while they discussed the upgrading of the fire alarm systems. After an hour or two of this, they were done and the day was, again, over. We signed out, I drove us back down to the base, we had dinner again at the dining hall, then I came back here and handed the truck off to John. I expected the Danes to be as they were the previous night, but that was not the case. A couple of them were there watching TV, but there was no liveliness like the night before. I sat down for a bit and watched TV, but soon left and came in here to write.

Now, here I sit, sipping at my rejected bottle of akvavit at the end of my second day here and I'm quite overwhelmed by it all. The cold, the darkness, the desolate, harsh environment, only the tiniest hint of which can be perceived under the moonlight, the cracklingly bone-dry air, and amid all of this, an unlikely panoply of amenities planted in this brutal place to accomodate us all so nicely. Very strange. Tomorrow is Saturday but we have to work. I'm told they're supposed to be having a fireworks display to make up for the New Year's event that was cancelled due to inclement weather. They're predicting inclement weather for tomorrow. One thing's for certain at this point: I have no idea what to expect. Good night.

My barrack, #324 ... aka "Chez Lo-Ha"		My room
The rest of the barrack	The Arctic gear		A relaxing moment in my room

John & I drove up to the site early on Saturday morning and put in a full day's "work"...a good 11 hours. It was worse than I thought it would be. Following people around, doing absolutely nothing for 11 hours, listening to them talk about stuff I could not for the life of me even begin to comprehend. I had the foresight to bring reading material, which helped a little, but not much. The day dragged and I ended up feeling more drained than if I had done actual work. The whole thing was just supremely weird. It's kind of a shame because the work they're doing looks interesting and I would like to be able to help. Driving back to base, it was obvious that the storm they were predicting had not occurred, or if it had, there was no trace of it. (There are no windows at the site, so when you're in there, you have no idea what's going on outside. That, combined with all the security measures, makes the place feel rather like a prison.) I don't know if the fireworks display took place either. I asked some people about it, but nobody seemed to know.

We stopped at the BX and picked up some beer and other various things and then headed to John's place. John, two of the contractors (Dave & Jesse) and I hung out for a little while, drank, talked, and watched Mitt Romney overwhelm the Nevada primary. After some beers and shots of rum, we all walked over to the TOW club and ate at the bar. Really good food and reasonable prices. I can not get over how cheap everything is here. I expected everything to be on the expensive side seeing as it has to be shipped up here at what has to be great expense. As we finished our food, Emil & Søren (two of the Danes from my barrack) came in and the drinking got heavily underway. We drank a lot. A LOT. I don't even remember walking back to my barrack, that's how trashed I was. Luckily my barrack is less than a 5-minute walk to the club ("stumbling distance", I keenly observed one night). This is not the kind of place you want to fall down and pass out outside. 'Twould be an outright death sentence were you to be alone and left undiscovered.

Everyone was supposed to work the following day (today), but the guys we were escorting (Jesse & Chris), didn't go for some reason. I woke up kinda late (around 9:00) and immediately called John because he had the truck. He groggily said he'd call back after he showered. I went back to sleep knowing the phone would wake me up. It never rang. I ended waking up around 12:30 and tried calling him again. No answer. I kept trying, but there was no answer. I couldn't imagine what was going on. I ended up having to walk over there to find out. Turns out he was just too obliterated from the night before and was out getting breakfast when I called back. I was worried because we were supposed to go to the site today, but for some reason our escortees didn't go, so apparently it's OK. I'm pretty sure Jesse didn't go because he was equally smashed, but I don't know what the story was with Chris. I'll find out tomorrow what the consequences of this are.

Anyway, walking outside around noon today, I was shocked to see some light in the sky. The sun wasn't shining or anything, but it was close enough below the horizon that there was a considerable amount of ambient light. I was surprised because I expected it to be nearly-constantly pitch black the whole time I was here, especially in the beginning. It was nice to finally see the surroundings illuminated a bit. We drove around and tried to take advantage of the meagre visibility we had been given by taking some pictures. The brutal cold made it difficult. Standing outside for just a few minutes to get a couple shots was intolerable. Operating the camera with gloves on was really awkward, but a few attempts without them proved too painful. Man, it amazes me that people can actually live up here. We were gonna drive up towards the site to try to get some pictures of the glacier, but by that time what little light there was was fading fast so we decided it'd be better to wait for when it was lighter.

Blinding midday light

Views down at the harbor

Miscellaneous shots during the midday light

Crappy shot I got of a fox wandering around on base. They weren't that uncommon, not doubt drawn to all the food scraps to be had.

John dropped me off then came back a few minutes later to pick me up. A couple of the MTHøjgaard (a Danish company that's doing all the facilities work here for the upgrade) guys were taking a group of us to the abandoned missle launch sites up on mountains to the south. We signed off of base and drove up the mountain. It was incredible. The doors and stuff are open so snow and ice slowly make their way in there year after year. In the summer, the top layer melts, then refreezes the following winter. The result is that everywhere down there there's a good 4 feet of frozen solid ice. This wasn't immediately apparent to me and I couldn't figure out why the ceilings were so low and the floor was this weird, milky-looking glass. It was a little creepy but very cool. The view at the top of the mountain was amazing. I was bummed I couldn't get a decent picture of it in the pitch blackness. We then drove to the "beach" and walked out onto the frozen sea ice. It was unreal, but it was also colder out there so we didn't linger too long. Also, as I was walking back, the ice underfoot seemed to give way a bit, but it was just like a small air pocket or something. Needless to say it was rather disturbing.

The view of the base from up on the mountain	Way off in the distance the tiny village of Moriusaq can be seen	The launch sites
Out on the sea ice	Our trusty truck: vehicle #706	The post office

I took the truck, had dinner, dropped the truck back off with John so he could go eat, then walked to the recreation center. Very nice, cozy place to read, get a coffee, use the internet, listen to music. I sat down and perused some Greenlandic newspapers for awhile then walked back "home". Man, you don't really appreciate how cold it is until you're outside for more than about a minute. Going from a building to a car and back is not bad, but if you're out there for any length of time, it cuts through to you and it's positively savage. And we haven't even had any wind to speak of. I shudder to think what -20/-30 feels like with fierce winds. Holy mother of god! Anyway, what a great day. It should sustain me through the punishing boredom of the following days. I hope.