Sangmissoq Fjord, West Greenland
Mother Nature, it seems, decided to give the National Geographic Explorer a farewell worthy of its inaugural voyage. Lush vegetation, fabulous sunshine and a humpback whale feeding frenzy filled our day.
This morning was spent exploring the western fjord, Sangmissoq. The hills were covered by a carpet of lichens and mosses. We waded through thick patches of crowberries, blue berries, willow, juniper, dwarf birch and miniscule dogwood. Names such as these bring to mind towering trees but they do not hold the same meaning here. What could be trees are but stunted shrubs, not even ankle high.
The reason such thick vegetation was able to take root is the abundance of fresh water descending from the mountain tops as the snow melts. The water that pooled in the valley to form lakes tripped and spilled over rocks to the sea in the form of several waterfalls.
With such an abundance of water and flora animals seemed to enjoy this solitary location. Loons glided across the lake. Snow buntings flitted about. In the water, lion’s mane jellies propelled themselves with their mushroom-like tops. Blue mussels littered the shallows and the dreaded black-flies mobbed us all. High on a hillside a single caribou stood seemingly watching us as we examined antlers shed in the past.
In the afternoon, National Geographic photographers Sisse Brimberg and Cotton Coulson treated us to a pictorial journey through the mining community of Barentsburg, Svalbard. Before this, however, we were fortunate enough to witness the mass feeding of humpback whales. These giant mammals cleverly round up and capture their tiny prey using their giant pectoral flippers. In some cases they blow a bubble net as well to trap their quarry. Each time their flukes broke the surface it was as though they were bidding us farewell.
Mother Nature, it seems, decided to give the National Geographic Explorer a farewell worthy of its inaugural voyage. Lush vegetation, fabulous sunshine and a humpback whale feeding frenzy filled our day.
This morning was spent exploring the western fjord, Sangmissoq. The hills were covered by a carpet of lichens and mosses. We waded through thick patches of crowberries, blue berries, willow, juniper, dwarf birch and miniscule dogwood. Names such as these bring to mind towering trees but they do not hold the same meaning here. What could be trees are but stunted shrubs, not even ankle high.
The reason such thick vegetation was able to take root is the abundance of fresh water descending from the mountain tops as the snow melts. The water that pooled in the valley to form lakes tripped and spilled over rocks to the sea in the form of several waterfalls.
With such an abundance of water and flora animals seemed to enjoy this solitary location. Loons glided across the lake. Snow buntings flitted about. In the water, lion’s mane jellies propelled themselves with their mushroom-like tops. Blue mussels littered the shallows and the dreaded black-flies mobbed us all. High on a hillside a single caribou stood seemingly watching us as we examined antlers shed in the past.
In the afternoon, National Geographic photographers Sisse Brimberg and Cotton Coulson treated us to a pictorial journey through the mining community of Barentsburg, Svalbard. Before this, however, we were fortunate enough to witness the mass feeding of humpback whales. These giant mammals cleverly round up and capture their tiny prey using their giant pectoral flippers. In some cases they blow a bubble net as well to trap their quarry. Each time their flukes broke the surface it was as though they were bidding us farewell.
