Words: Luanne Koubsky.
Photos: Kate Wright
Crew: Luanne Koubsky,
Kate Wright,
Christian Harstad,
Evan Koubsky,
Greg Long,
Kyler Smith,
Laila Reigstad,
Rachel Kellen &
Sam Brylski
Special thank you to @AquaBound, @LevelSix, @IbexWool
Solitude in Greenland
In July 2023, I set out on an adventure I once believed lived on a fantasy bucket list: kayaking among ice giants in Greenland. My husband, Evan, and I are entrenched in full-time professional roles, parenting two exuberant children and co-managing a dental practice. We often find ourselves ensnared by various responsibilities, subduing our senses of freedom and autonomy. A dangling opportunity to Greenland stirred a question – how can we seek adventure while navigating the demands of modern-day obligations?
Possibility Ignited
As Creative Lead for Aqua Bound and Bending Branches, a U.S. manufacturer of premium kayak and canoe paddles, I am fortunate to collaborate with paddlers worldwide on marketing and product development initiatives. Upon getting to know Aqua Bound ambassadors Laila Reigstad and Christian Harstad, their accounts of Greenland ignited a sense of fascination and longing for an expedition to this remote destination.
One day, Laila extended an invitation to anyone at Aqua Bound and their families to meet in Greenland during a slot in her 2023 tour schedule. As a company deeply rooted in the passion for paddling, Branches actively encourages its employees to ‘live the life,’ immersing ourselves in paddling activities to deepen our appreciation for the sport and better understand the significant impact high-quality products have in elevating the entire paddling experience.
GOODBYE MOM and DAD, GOODBYE KIDS
Against my usual nature, I couldn’t resist the magnetic pull – I opted for a ‘book now, figure it out later’ approach.
Thankfully, though somewhat coercively, we managed to piece together childcare between our parents for our two and four-year-olds. We were surprised by the intensity and nature of questions posed by our parents if this journey ended in catastrophe. Evan’s mom pressed, “If you die, who is your plumber?” We do not ‘have’ a plumber on standby. Holding back tears, my mom fretted, “How will we know how to build LEGO with the kids? You two are so good at it.” Assuring her that all LEGO instructions (and more) are available online, I took a deep breath, reminding myself of the importance of leading by example to inspire our children to venture beyond their comfort zones and seek adventure.
GETTING TO GREENLAND
Accompanied by five of my colleagues, we embraced the mix of discomfort and exhilaration born from a new experience. The journey from MSP airport to Greenland proved to be an adventure in itself. Immediate weather delays, flight cancellations and seat limitations split our group in two. Kate, Evan and I transited through Minneapolis-Chicago-Reykjavík-Copenhagen, where we stayed two days to catch the limited flights to Narsarsuaq, Greenland. Meanwhile, Sam, Kyler, Rachel and Greg faced an unfortunate 24-hour stranding in the Toronto airport before rejoining us a day later in Copenhagen.
WELCOMED BY A POLAR BEAR
Finally, our long-awaited flight to Greenland. Gazing from above at the vast polar ice cap and scattered icebergs, we descended into Narsarsuaq, the primary airfield in southwestern Greenland and former U.S. air base. Our journey continued as we boarded a water taxi for an hour-long ride to Narsaq.
The icebergs formerly dwarfed from our aerial vantage point towered in impressive sculptural forms over the boat. Adding to our marvel, we received unexpected news of a polar bear sighting, uncommon in South Greenland due to the warming climate and lack of ice for hunting. Within 10 minutes, we experienced an incredible welcome to Greenland – the polar bear. This bear was stranded on an iceberg that broke off from western Greenland, eventually drifting down to the southern region. Witnessing the bear’s lumbering gait and swaying fur as he walked along the shoreline felt like an incredible stroke of chance and luck.
The remainder of our ride to Narsaq felt as if we were immersed in a video game. Our water taxi driver skilfully swerved and dodged obstacles through a maze of icebergs and ice chunks. After our first taste of local musk ox at dinner and learning Inuit and Viking culture and history from a local at the Narsaq Museum, we pitched our tents at campsite #1: the side of the road.
PADDLING AMIDST ICEBERGS
With loaded-down kayaks and spirits charged with adrenaline, we began our morning paddling through the Tunuaraq fjord. Leaving civilisation behind, I expected the only sounds to be quiet paddle entries and exits or soft cadences of conversation. The reality was far more captivating.
Ranging in colour from brilliant white to deep blue, the icebergs have a life of their own – sizzling, cracking, popping – as they release ancient air trapped within their depths. Exposed peaks gradually melted, causing a weight shift, abruptly flipping the icebergs. Large icebergs turning echoed like thunderous cannons, reverberating against surrounding bergs and cliff hills.
We selected a campsite on a peninsula boasting panorama views of the fjord. Evan and I set up camp overlooking two gigantic icebergs. We spent late afternoon and evening hiking up the steep cliffside for a sweeping view of the fjord, fishing for Arctic cod and leisurely paddling our much lighter, unloaded kayaks around nearby ice sculptures.
As we tucked inside our sleeping bags atop a bed of moss, Evan and I fell asleep to the crackling sounds of icebergs. At 4:23 am, we were abruptly awoken by thundering booms. Was it storming? I stuck my head out of the tent flap and witnessed one of the enormous ice formations overturning just outside our tent. Waves crashed into neighbouring icebergs, triggering a chain reaction of additional overturns. The vibrations resonated in our chests, adding to the grandeur.
PADDLING DAY 2: TIRED AND TESTED
Day two began with an early morning breakfast and a lingering buzz of excitement from the day prior. Tasked with covering double the distance and leveraging the tides to our advantage, Christian and Laila took the lead, guiding the group in various formations. While everyone in our group had kayaking and/or canoeing experience, Christian and Laila offered valuable insights on technique to help us practice efficient strokes for the demanding day ahead.
Nearing our lunch spot, I felt an odd sensation sweep over me. Why couldn’t I tell my abs and arms what to do? My sense of balance dwindled, causing me to wonder if I would tip into the water. I decided it was best to ask for help. Although the lunch spot was in sight, I gratefully accepted a tow from Christian. Despite being well-fed and hydrated, I severely underestimated the calorie expenditure and energy required for our journey. My blood sugar dropped, and I experienced first-hand the benefit of paddling with a team.
Whether it was helping me to shore, cooking a hefty lunch, getting me water, or simply checking in, my fellow paddlers got me back in shape for the next leg of our trip.
Next, we encountered a large ice field. We paddled in single-line formation, listening to the ice chunk bubbles as if navigating through champagne. Laila led the clearing of the ice for our line, and we stayed as close as possible together to not let ice intrude. We stopped in a narrow stream and hiked to explore an abandoned hunter cabin. A deep gully was filled with hundreds of reindeer skulls, most with antlers intact. The dentist in Evan couldn’t help but examine the reindeer teeth and compare them to human teeth.
PORTAGE PROBLEMS
Things took a sudden turn. Exploring an adjacent fjord required a portage over a small swath of land containing two alpine ponds. We redistributed gear stored in hatches into large IKEA bags to minimise weight while lugging heavy kayaks through dense moss.
Unseasonably warm, we unzipped our drysuits to air out and feel the cool breeze during what was supposed to be a straightforward portage. At the first pond, a miscalculation resulted in a fellow paddler tipping the kayak into the icy water. What seemed like a million drybags and loose pieces of gear spilt and began to drift away. A couple of us jumped in to help our friend out of the water and collect their belongings, hoping the drybags had a good seal.
I herded drifting belongings back towards land and began to experience a rush of coldness. My understanding of what was happening was delayed, and then it hit me–my drysuit was unzipped. Icy alpine water flooded in, sending tingles and pinpricks up my whole body. It became crucial to exit the cold water and remove my drenched clothing to prevent further heat loss and the onset of hypothermia. I could not have been more thankful for the sun’s warmth against my face as I layered on dry merino wool and multiple jackets. My teammates once again came together and portaged my kayak and the rest of my gear. We all were exhausted, hungry and frustrated. Somehow, my kayak was tipped, filling the unlatched hatches with water.
I battled the temptation to let frustration take over. Physically and mentally exhausted, hungry, and chilled to the bone, I fought the desire to scream, cry, or have tantrums akin to those of my toddlers back home. Evan sensed this and reminded me everyone was trying to help despite also struggling. His quiet support helped quell my anger and focus on reloading our kayaks for the next stretch of paddling.
I questioned my stamina to make it to camp, the few hours of darkness starting to set in. We pulled up to shore at 10:30 pm, legs wobbly from the 13+ hour day of paddling and portaging. It was 11:30 pm when tents were up, and dinner was ready. We scarfed down food silently, eying our tents in desperation for sleep. Ultimately, we tested our resilience on what felt like a bad day. Upon reflection, I am so proud that we all pushed through.
PADDLING DAY 3: MENTAL BOOST
We reset after a night of deep sleep. Though equally as long of a day paddling, we welcomed the wind at our backs. This was the day Evan began to experience the mental health benefits of being ‘unplugged’ in nature from our typical daily grind. New thoughts and ideas replaced the constant stressors that typically linger on top of the mind or think about the next task ahead. For the first time in a long time, Evan felt present. Many of us began to have a heightened sense of observation and appreciation for the dramatic setting, sea eagles, little black and red birds and flower-sprinkled land.
POLAR PLUNGE
Contrary to the previous day, we submerged ourselves in an icy swim. Laila and Christian introduced us to our newest crew member, an inflatable Arctic flamingo. We ran into the frigid water between floating ice, fighting the immediate instinct to turn around and exit the near-freezing ocean. Greg embraced his Nordic roots, outlasting us and even briefly riding atop an ice chunk. Shivering yet invigorated, the seven of us ‘first-timers’ bundled almost all of our clothes we had and warmed our bellies with Laila’s fresh-made chocolate buns.
PADDLING DAY 4: FOG
We awoke to dense fog, requiring navigation by compass to cross the fjord. Thick mist often limited our sight lines to about 25 metres, varying between thick and clear pockets. The horizon blended seamlessly into the sea, and it was impossible to distinguish between sky and water.
The once popping and cracking sounds of active icebergs were now muffled. Submerged in the middle of an altered soundscape, we felt like we were in an eerie echo chamber in the middle of an ethereal world. Only distant booms of giant icebergs turning or shedding ice chunks passed through the fog. As the echoes reverberated all around us, we quickly looked right to left to try to discern from where the commotion stemmed. Completely encased in fog with our sight and hearing senses skewed, this stretch of paddling felt magical.
SUN
Halfway to our lunch spot, the fog lifted, revealing another sunny day. We learned an important lesson: even in fog, apply sunscreen. In the afternoon, rays beat on my fair skin as I eyed the front hatch, wondering how buried and in which dry bag hid my SPF. It was a lost cause, and I later donned a comical sunburn halfway down my neck, a stark line where my drysuit’s neck gasket began.
WITNESSING CLIMATE CHANGE
Taking a break from kayaking, we boarded a water taxi to gain a closer view of the Greenland Ice Sheet. Where glacier-meets-sea is an incredibly active and dangerous site. We became hypnotised by watching huge ice chunks break off, forming immense icebergs through a process known as calving.
Thousands of seagulls appeared as white dots as they fed on underwater glacial rivers joining the sea, our only reference to the scale of the towering glacier before us. Laila recounted two years ago not being able to see the large, exposed rock in the middle of our view. We watched intensely for indications of movement, eyes glued to the ice with anticipation on the rise. We experienced torn emotions–we eagerly awaited the loud cracking, rumbling and splashing sounds yet felt sadness as we observed the effects of the overall trend of an increased glacier retreat rate due to climate change.
As we sped back to our boats and ended our kayaking journey, we savoured close-up views of ice formations, steep cliffs and the feeling of the cool wind on our faces. Evan and I felt like we were living as our true selves–not as dentists or marketers, not as parents or volunteers–but as who we are at our cores. The opportunity to self-reflect, test our boundaries and step outside our comfort zones reframed our perception of what is possible after becoming parents, business owners, and more. Greenland left us yearning for additional adventures together; our eyes opened to possibilities that once felt out of reach.
