We drop anchor in St John’s Harbour, a side arm of the Saglek Fjord. We have reached our next stop. The Dagmar Aaen is moored off the base camp of Torngat Mountains National Park. On shore, we can see more than 30 dome tents, two wooden buildings, large tanks, a helicopter and several containers.
The Torngat Mountains Base Camp is the heart of the national park. The seasonal tent camp has been in place here since 2007. It is only inhabited from July to September and, during this short period, serves as a base for hikes, scientific projects and cultural exchange. It can only be reached by boat or plane. Around 80 researchers, rangers, Inuit and visitors live here side by side – or rather, tent to tent – for a few weeks.
The camp is surrounded by an electric fence, as black bears and polar bears regularly explore the camp’s boundaries. We’ll have more to say about that later.

Andrew Andersen, with whom we’d already been in frequent contact in the run-up to our trip, joins us by boat. The welcome is warm. He conducts the compulsory safety briefing for all visitors right here on board.
Andrew is one of the coordinators for Parks Canada. He invites us for a coffee in the camp canteen. The number one rule when entering the wooden building: shoes off! There are currently three different groups of visitors at the camp: a language seminar for Inuit from the Nunatsiavut region, a group of scientists, and the seven-member board of Parks Canada.
For us, the camp has a very different kind of luxury in store: a shower. We haven’t had the chance to have one since we set sail from Nuuk. After days on board, warm water suddenly feels like quite a major achievement of civilisation.

Inuit Games

In the afternoon, we’re invited into the communal tent. It’s pleasantly warm inside, drinks are laid out, and we’re given a warm welcome. Alongside the canteen, the tent is the social hub of the camp. This is where language courses take place, where people eat together, share stories and pass on knowledge. Today, the Inuit Games are on the programme.

A wiry man, well over sixty, steps in front of the group. He needs no grand introduction. In the old days, he explains, there was no radio, no television and no toys. The days were long, life full of hardship. So they challenged one another. Strength, stamina, dexterity and endurance were tested in a playful way, often with a twinkle in the eye, sometimes even through pain.

During the demonstrations, it quickly becomes clear that these games demand far more than just muscle power. What counts most are tenacity and the ability to keep going even when it has long since become uncomfortable. Push-ups are performed in such a way that you land alternately on the palms and the backs of your hands.
In an exercise called ‘Airplane’, Alex helps out as one of three assistants. The participant is lifted by the elbows and feet and must hold their body horizontally and under tension for as long as possible. The first manages ten seconds, the second fifteen. Then a woman steps forward. Time passes without her body tension wavering. Eventually, it is not she but the helpers who run out of strength. By the time she is set down, more than 90 seconds have passed.
Many of these traditional competitions live on today in Arctic Sports. What was once a pastime and physical training for everyday life in the Arctic has remained an important part of the culture of the Inuit and other indigenous peoples of the North. Anyone who experiences the games quickly realises that it is not just traditions that are being upheld here. To this day, they remain an integral part of the cultural life of the Inuit.

North Arm

Andrew has offered to take us on a tour of the national park, weather permitting. Yesterday it was still windy, grey and cold. It wasn’t until around 10 pm that we received the welcome news: the tour is going ahead. So the alarm goes off at 6 am to ensure we reach North Arm in good time.

The fog has cleared. For the first time in days, we can see blue skies again. Even the green of the slopes seems almost unfamiliar after all that grey. The air has become drier, and every now and then a surprisingly warm breeze sweeps across the water. It carries the scent of the land out to us. The thermometer reads just 13 degrees. In the Torngat Mountains, that’s summer. After days of grey, the colour blue alone seems to bring a smile to everyone’s face.

The North Arm is a fjord around three nautical miles long, framed by mountains up to 1,000 metres high and a wide pebble beach at its end. The rock formations are considered to be the oldest in the world (3.8 billion years). As we drop anchor and cross over in the dinghy, around 40 participants from the base camp – mostly Inuit – are already waiting there.
Water is heated over a fire and bread is baked. Above all, however, people are fishing. Young and old stand on the shore, and a fish is pulled from the water almost every minute. The fish are filleted straight away, prepared for drying or eaten straight away.

Andrew gathers a group of 30 participants; no more than this are allowed to enter the national park at any one time.
Our first stop takes us to an archaeological site. The piled-up stone mounds are the remains of traditional Inuit food caches. Caribou meat and fish were stored here. The principle was as simple as it was ingenious: the stone mounds protected the food from hungry small mammals such as weasels and other scavengers, whilst keeping it cool at the same time. In a landscape where food was not always available, such storage sites could make all the difference over the winter.

A little later, we reach a waterfall whose stream has carved its way deep into the rock. Further downstream, we take a break. Anyone who fancies it can have a dip in the crystal-clear water. We’re not about to miss this opportunity. At first it’s freezing, but afterwards the water feels surprisingly invigorating.

Back on the beach, a girl of about ten proudly hands us her biggest catch of the day: an Arctic char weighing over 5 kilograms. As a thank you, we invite her and her siblings aboard the Dagmar Aaen. Her smile speaks for itself.
We certainly won’t be suffering from a lack of protein over the next few days.

Uninvited guests

In the evening, things get hectic on board. A black bear has appeared on the shore. First one, then three of these jet-black animals. Black bears are smaller than polar bears, but no less impressive. On the Dagmar Aaen, cameras are whipped out. Like paparazzi, the crew members stand at the railings and take photos as if there were no tomorrow. Naturally, the camp’s bear guards have also spotted the curious animals. As the bears approach the electric protective fence a little closer, the guards spring into action. Flash-bang rounds are fired in the direction of the black bears. The tracer rounds stand out clearly against the darkening sky. Then there is a loud bang each time, which echoes through the mountains for a long time. The bears themselves, however, do not seem particularly alarmed by this. Only when the experienced guards take more precise aim and the rounds strike the sand directly in front of the bears do they slowly retreat. Late into the night, we can still see the beams of the searchlights. Safety comes first, after all.

The name Torngait comes from Inuktitut and means ‘mountains where the spirits dwell’. For the Inuit, the mountains are far more than just a spectacular landscape. They are part of their history and identity. Anyone visiting the national park is therefore not only entering one of the most remote regions of North America, but also a place of great cultural significance.

Matze & Thomas

Position: 58.479182, -63.040924

For days now, fog, drizzle and low-hanging clouds have been our constant companions. Often, the coastline reveals its contours for just a few moments before fading back into the grey. Only gradually does the landscape through which we are travelling reveal itself to us: rugged cliffs, deeply carved fjords and a coastline that gives the impression of having been freed from the ice only yesterday.
A landscape shaped by ice

Labrador forms the north-eastern part of the North American mainland. The peninsula stretches for around a thousand kilometres from 60° to 51° latitude, or from the northern tip at Killinq Island down to the Strait of Belle Isle.

Hardly any other region in North America bears the mark of the ice ages as clearly as this one. Over thousands of years, mighty glaciers have carved out deep fjords, shaped river valleys and left behind countless lakes. The landscape appears rugged and primeval, almost untouched.

Labrador comprises four vegetation zones. In the south, extensive mixed forests grow, giving way further north to boreal coniferous forest. This is followed by a transitional zone of low, wind-swept trees, before the treeless tundra finally begins.

That is exactly where we have been for the past few days. In northern Labrador, rocks, mosses, lichens and low grasses dominate the landscape. Even in the midst of the short Arctic summer, the vegetation remains surprisingly sparse. Only here and there do lichens and mosses add splashes of green to the grey-brown landscape.

The Torngat Mountains rise up before us. Their name is derived from the Inuktitut word ‘Torngait’, which roughly translates as ‘place of spirits’. The highest peaks reach over 1,600 metres and are among the highest elevations east of the Rocky Mountains.

Little greenery, surprisingly abundant life

At first glance, this landscape seems almost lifeless. In fact, it provides a habitat for numerous Arctic and boreal animal species. Polar bears, caribou, arctic foxes, wolves and black bears can all be found in Torngat Mountains National Park, as can a wide variety of seabirds.
So far, we haven’t spotted any of these larger animals on land. Instead, birds are a constant companion above the water. Even though there aren’t many of them, their diversity brings movement to a landscape otherwise characterised by rock, water and mist.

Since the day before yesterday, we’ve been sailing through the waters east of Torngat Mountains National Park. We aren’t entering the national park itself. Our course takes us along its wild coastline, whilst fog and rain often limit visibility to just a few hundred metres.

The sea provides our Dinner

After dropping anchor in Eclipse Bay, Matze provides the culinary highlight of the day. He’d actually only intended to dip his fishing rod into the water ‘just for a moment’. A few seconds later, he’s laughing, and a massive Greenland cod is on the hook. What initially looks like a stroke of luck quickly turns into a bit of a fishing frenzy. More fish follow, and within a short time it’s clear: dinner is sorted.
In the evening, Miri conjures up an excellent meal from the catch. Fish couldn’t be any fresher.

Even when at anchor, the Dagmar Aaen is never left unattended. One member of the crew is always on anchor watch, ensuring that the anchor doesn’t slip and that all systems are working. There’s also time to read, study nautical charts or simply listen to nature. That means almost complete silence. Only the murmur of a mountain stream or a waterfall can be heard.

On one of the Earth’s oldest foundations

Few regions on Earth reveal their geological history as impressively as Labrador. Large parts of the land consist of rocks estimated to be up to 3.8 billion years old. They form part of the Canadian Shield, one of the oldest surviving components of the Earth’s crust.

As the Earth slowly cooled, a solid crust formed over the still-hot mantle. Enormous forces deep within the Earth caused mountains to rise, which, over the course of unimaginably long periods of time, were subsequently eroded, subsided and were at times flooded by the sea. These movements repeated themselves four times throughout the Earth’s history. Today, erosion has a greater impact in the Labrador region than uplift. Consequently, large parts of the region look geologically much the same as they did billions of years ago.
Around 200 million years ago, the North Atlantic finally began to open up. The Earth’s crust was pulled apart, and Labrador and Greenland emerged from a single, contiguous landmass. Looking at their coastlines on a map, one can still make out the former connection.

A land with surprisingly few people

Labrador covers an area of almost 295,000 square kilometres, yet is home to only around 27,000 people. This equates to a population density of just about 0.09 inhabitants per square kilometre. By way of comparison, in Germany an average of around 236 people live in the same area.

The vastness of this landscape is almost impossible to capture in figures. When travelling here, what you encounter above all else are rocks, water and sky.

Heading south

We continue our journey southwards. We have around 60 nautical miles ahead of us. Our destination is the base camp on the southern edge of Torngat Mountains National Park. There, we will apply for an official permit to enter the national park and are already looking forward to the next chapter of our journey: when we meet, for the first time, the people who call this remote region home. We’ll tell you all about it in our next post.

Thomas

Position: 58.883225, -62.904968

Canada’s east coast is breathtaking. We marvel at the unspoilt mountain slopes as they pass by. It gives us goosebumps. Nature seems so untouched that we find ourselves wondering whether any of these mountains have ever been climbed at all, and how likely it is that we might encounter polar bears.

We are now on a different continent – a continent that long existed outside the European sphere of awareness and has developed its own social structures. The First Nations and the Inuit had already been living and hunting here for many millennia before the first contacts with Europeans took place.

Around the year 1000, the Vikings became the first Europeans to arrive in Newfoundland and established a settlement with a longhouse. This settlement was eventually abandoned.
In 1473, an expedition commissioned by the Danish king and supported by the Portuguese royal family undertook a voyage of discovery to the coast of Labrador. The expedition leader, Didrik Pining from Hildesheim, and Captain Hans Pothorst from Hamburg sailed along the Labrador coast, coming from the north via Greenland.
In 1540, the first Basque whalers arrived and established a whaling station at Red Bay in southern Labrador. The number of whalers continued to grow. In the years that followed, up to 50 whaling ships carrying as many as 2,500 seamen arrived on the coast in a single season.
Over the following decades, there were repeated conflicts between the whalers, the traders, the colonial powers and the Inuit.
In 1752, the first missionaries from Germany, members of the Moravian Church, arrived and began to settle in Hoffnungstal/Hopedale. This first attempt at settlement failed due to conflicts with the Inuit. The missionaries withdrew back to Europe.
In 1771, through the mediation of Mikak, a woman held in high esteem among the Inuit, a new mission station was successfully established. With the support of the British Crown and Jens Haven from Herrnhut, Mikak succeeded in establishing a mission station in Nain. The missionaries learnt the Inuit language, taught the Inuit and passed on various craft techniques. They also engaged in trade. This enabled the mission station to finance both its own livelihood and the goods arriving from Europe. In the years that followed, this trade sparked numerous conflicts with the Inuit and the trading companies.
In 1782, another mission station was established at the very spot where the first attempts at settlement had failed in 1752 at Hoffnungstal/Hopedal. In the years that followed, mission stations were set up in Okak, Hebron and Zoar.
In 1880, Adrian Jacobson was commissioned by Carl Hagenbeck, the founder of Hamburg Zoo, to recruit an ‘Eskimo family’ for a ‘human exhibition’ at the zoo. With many promises, the Ulrikab family from the Hebron mission station and another family from the surrounding northern area were persuaded to come to Europe. There, they lived in Hagenbeck Zoo in extremely cramped conditions, frequently harassed by visitors. The ‘exhibition’ was a great success, so much so that this human spectacle went on to tour Berlin, Prague, Frankfurt, Darmstadt and Paris. The families’ wish to return home as soon as possible was not granted. Both families died of smallpox at the turn of the year 1880/81. They were denied the smallpox vaccination that had actually been recommended and arranged for them.

We are continuing our journey southwards – following in the footsteps of German immigrants and missionaries. We hope that we will have the opportunity to meet people and enjoy good conversations along the way.

Alex

We’ve arrived!

Slowly, the contours of the Canadian coastline emerge from the oily-grey mixture of sea and clouds. Marie is the first to spot our destination, earning herself a shot of schnapps. The crew is over the moon. After a good 400 nautical miles, the northern tip of Labrador lies before us. Carefully and with full concentration, we sail slowly into a fjord whose flanks are characterised by rugged, barren rock formations. It is so deserted here that various areas are still marked as uncharted on Canadian nautical charts. We drop anchor in O’Brien Harbour.
Almost at the same time, we’re contacted on VHF channel 16 by a Canadian Coast Guard aircraft. They politely ask for our details, then wish us ‘happy sailing’.
The beer after dropping anchor tastes delicious. To mark the occasion, Miriam serves up some wonderful bread dumplings with mushroom ragout. After a peaceful night, the Canadian coastal handbook proves to be spot on. It describes some severe downdrafts for our anchorage. Suddenly, wisps of cloud race overhead and the wind picks up in gusts of up to 40 knots.

It’s getting uncomfortable. So we decide to move to another anchorage, which is surrounded by lower mountains and is therefore not expected to experience downdrafts. After 8 nautical miles southwards through choppy water, we drop anchor in Bowdoin Harbour. Although the wind is still blowing at 20 knots here, the Dagmar Aaen is much more stable.

It’s time for us to change our watches again. Not an easy task. The Canadian provinces (we’re in the border region between Quebec and Labrador) have different time zones (some with a difference of just 30 minutes), plus daylight saving time and UTC. The ship’s clock is set back three hours. This means we’re now six hours behind German time.

Our next destination is Torngat Mountains National Park.

Matze

Position: 60.379317, -64.538155