“I always get the shakes before a drop.”
– Opening line of Starship Troopers
We never sleep well, the night before a big landing. Every bump and creak seems some vital portent as to our imminent fate. And Jan Mayen is a tough one – not as rare as Pitcairn or Tristan d’Cunha, but still a difficult place to visit – and not on many itineraries. We’re not planning to come back this way anytime soon, so this is our shot.
We’re one of the later landing groups, so our alarms aren’t set until closer to 8 am this morning – but we wake with the anchor, as it drops into Kvalrossbukta bay. And then raises, and drops.
That doesn’t bode well, nor does the feeling that we’re continually angling and jostling for position. We can feel the swell around, and watch it smash against the nearby rocks:
Off to the Lounge for a cappuccino and a mug of tea, then back out to our verandah to watch the show. We have a front row seat:
Gradually, a sense of tempered optimism starts to set in – starting when they make an easy landing ashore, and continuing as the shore party gets so bored that they attempt to scale a nearby cliffside (not pictured).
In a fitting metaphor, the clouds also part – revealing Beerenberg, the world’s northernmost active volcano – in all of its glory:
Then our hopes are confirmed – Cruise Director Luana comes on the ship’s speaker to announce that landings will unfold as per the Daily Program, but that any keeners who want to get out there earlier can show up as of 9:20 am.
We resemble that remark, so we dash off down to breakfast.
Speaking of which – today’s Daily Program:
On goes the gear, and off we go – we are a well-oiled machine now, or at least a machine that knows exactly where to sit down so that we can ensure our trousers are tucked inside our boots.
The swell off the back isn’t too bad – not with the length of the ship to buffer it. It’s trickier to surf our way in, but there are expedition guides at every step of the way. A careful one-one-thousand, two-one-thousand as a wave rushes past our ankles then it’s feet down amidst the rocks and onto the beach we go. Easy-peezy.
This is what awaits us:
High-fives all around. Jan Mayen – another of the tiny, remote islands. It shouldn’t matter, after the trip we’ve had. But it does.
We head across the black-sand beach. There is a surprising amount of life here – not just the moss across the cliffs, but what appear to be small succulents growing on the sand:
We want to visit the souvenir stand first – in David’s words, “There are only scientists living here, but they are also smart” – except the store hasn’t opened yet. So we head up the trail to get a better view of the volcano. And what a view we get:
It’s strange weather. When the wind blows, it’s chilly. When it stops, we’re sweltering.
Back down the trail we go, taking in the moody vistas:
And the store is open! And by ‘store’, I mean the back of a truck!
We pick up a Jan Mayen T-shirt for our daughter – they have only adult sizes of S, M, L and 2 to 4 colour choices depending on size:
As well as a pair of Jan Mayen toques:
At CAD$70 per toque, it also holds the dubious distinction of being the most expensive toque we own. But what are we going to do – not buy it? Those scientists really are clever
While waiting for me to finish taking photos, my wife has the chance to talk to a Norwegian military officer. He asks if we’re American and immediately apologizes when she replies Canadian. He says there’s 18 people who overwinter on the island but 35 or so during the summer. He mentions that only about 30 vessels including their once annual resupply ship and sailing boats land each year. Most of the sailing boats have climbers who are onboard to attempt the summit of Beerenberg.
He also tells her and the children that they are exceptionally lucky not just to land but also to have such clear views of the volcano as it’s only this visible around 10 to 15 days a year. He then jokes that he came to Jan Mayen for a bit of peace and quiet, only to end up next to a construction site:
It looks like Ponant dropped off some goodies for the scientists and local staff.
Onward across the beach, with a closer look at the moss-covered cliffs:
We pay our respects to the seven Dutch whalers who were the first to overwinter at Jan Mayen – but who died shortly of scurvy before additional supplies could arrive:
And a grave for the whalers who lived here for 1615 to 1638:
I then go over to see the other side of the bay:
Where the kittiwakes are nesting:
I have time for a few more photos:
And then it’s time to leave. Another short-but-sweet visit – though we’re still early enough to tack on an additional zodiac cruise:
The weather is getting dicier, but our guide and driver handles it admirably.
Only a brief swing past the cliffs:
We catch a brief sight of a puffin in flight – but don’t manage to get a photo of it.
And then it’s time to reboard the ship.
We manage a few more photos from the our verandah:
But soon the last zodiac returns from shore:
Off to lunch:
Beef bourguignon and pizza – a match made in heaven!
The special today is mushroom risotto – which my wife says is excellent:
We take some time to read / write / relax – and to catch the sailaway:
Then it’s time to head to destination trivia – this time for the chance to win 250 Euro in stateroom credit on a future cruise. Future Cruise Manager Camille took our papers and won’t return them until after the French contingent has also had the chance to take part, so I won’t be sharing any questions or lessons learned until after we hear back.
Speaking of future cruises, however, we are seriously considering booking the New Zealand sub-Antarctic islands for December 2028. While we would only be able to actually land on a limited number of islands, we’ve nevertheless heard that this is an exceptional cruise with wildlife similar in scale to that found in South Georgia. The kids don’t seem to be getting the full discount, however, so we’ll have to wait a while before we’re able to put this plan into action – particularly as it’s currently the weekend.
There’s another gap – which we spend up in the Observation Lounge – and then we get ready for dinner before heading to heading to a later-than-usual expedition briefing:
David explains that we will be landing at Ittoqqortoormiit tomorrow morning, which is considered to be the most remote town in Greenland.
We watch the standard AECO video reminding guests to behave appropriately while visiting and to respect the privacy of others:
David notes that he’s had guests who simply wandered into other people’s homes! Ugh – some people
There are various events and activities being offered including a visit to the museum and church, food tasting, the feeding of sled dogs, and more.
A comment is made about the locals’ ‘flexible’ view of timing – though it lands somewhat flat given that we are not actually adjusting to the local timezone. Technically we should have stayed on Svalbard’s timezone until after Jan Mayen and then go backward three hours tonight to match Ittoqqortoormiit.
However, to ease the transition, we gained an hour before Jan Mayen and are now switching to Iceland time – going back just 1 more hour – rather than swiching to Ittoqqortoormiit time. Feels like something of a double standard to hold others to account on scheduling when we ourselves aren’t using their clock…
We have a recap in which we learn that Ittoqqortoormiit is a relative recent settlement, established by 80 Inuit settlers and Ejnar Mikkelsen in 1925 as a way of consolidating Denmark’s claims on Greenland:
Its current population is slightly more than 300, down from it’s peak of more than 500 in the 1990s. The presenter also discusses a visit by some of the Ittoqqortoormiit students and teachers to a school in France.
Then there’s a humorous video explaining the many failings of the Mercator projection – Greenland being only roughly equal to the size of France, for example, despite appearing to almost be the same size as Africa on the map.
There’s also an overview of the various substances that are illegal to import from Greenland, including – but not limited to – seal, walrus, polar bear and more:
The guide also recommends reindeer and soapstone souvenirs, as these are products that are relatively sustainable. (Reindeer shed their antlers, and so they do not need to be harmed to gather antler horn.) We aren’t planning to bring back any animal products as souvenirs, however, so we don’t pay that close of attention.
Another expedition guide is poised to provide a quick overview of Greenlandic culture and language, but it is already well past 7 pm and we are starving – so we duck out to the Grill instead.
Dinner tonight:
Roast chicken at tonight’s carving station, which everyone thoroughly enjoys
Which is bolstered by a spectacular cheese buffet:
Not that we need any more cheese at this point…
And then back to the room for an early bedtime – and an extra hour’s sleep.
But first – we finish the night with a glass of punch planteur from the bar – the closest we’ve found to a Singapore sling:
Perhaps the only other minor complaint we have is that the bartenders aboard have not been universally fabulous. There isn’t really a willingness to make drinks that are off menu, and even the drinks that are on menu are often mixed with wildly different proportions and ingredients. (We’ve asked for a Pink Lady and been given a French Kiss, for example, and have been served caipirinhas with virtually no sugar in them.)
We’ve been able to work around this by finding our top bartender – Ronald, up in Observation – and going with him. But he’s not always around, so sometimes it can be a bit dicey.
It’s one of those funny issues that’s big enough to be irritating, but not sufficient to raise a fuss about. But overall the cruise has been fabulous, so we’re not going to complain.
Particularly not with views like these:
