J.H.JOHNSTRUP - that was the name of the cutter that was approaching the base camp and everyone was apprehensive: a feeling one gets when a routine is broken. It also happens at the end of a long train journey. We had chugged along the fjord for five hours and the visual impressions were so beautiful, so grand and yet so serene. None of us wanted the order changed so soon. We had left Godthåb at two o'clock that afternoon with Kangiussaq as our destination. All over Greenland there are absolutely uninhabited areas without traces of human activity. Yet the map of Greenland shows different names given to different areas of barren nothingness. Isukasia, Qôrqut, Ivisârtoq ... how these regions got their name, to me remains an enigma. So too with Kangiussaq.
Icebergs floating in Gothabsfjord (almost at the head of fjord)
View of an iceberg as we sail past it in our cutter - J.H. Johnstrup
The cutter rounded a bend in the fjord and the camp sprang into view. A large square dark green tent stood in the middle with a neat row of white alpine tents facing it. An orange and white helicopter was parked at the southern end of the camp. Behind the row of alpine tents was another large tent by the side of which stood a large radio aerial. The vessel anchored at a distance in the fjord, and we disembarked into a rubber dinghy which took us ashore. Some people were already in the base camp and we were introduced to them by the expedition leader Peter Appel. That was when I first met Karsten Allärt, my Danish assistant who was to be with me for the next three months.
Big faced Karsten was a tall man of twenty five with deep set eyes, prominent cheekbones and a strong square chin. He certainly appeared to be a man of character. His eyes smiled as he shook hands in an iron grip.
"A fine country, as we've heard from Brian ", he said by way of opening up the conversation, when I was introduced to him as a geologist from India.
"Yes!" I said, wishing neither to add nor subtract from the views he already held.
"Are you a Brahmin?" he asked, displaying his knowledge of India.
And in that one question I felt completely at home in Greenland and with him too. Though the rest of the evening was consumed in exchanging views about Indian castes, sacred cows, idol worship and other miscellany that crop up when an uninitiated westerner meets an Indian, the evening passed off very pleasantly and I was happy to have him as my assistant. He spoke fluent English and created an ambience of such camaraderie that, among members of the same sex, is seen only in India.
"The main problem in Greenland is one of keeping yourself dry, and as I've heard, that is not always easy ", he continued as we prepared to retire.
Karsten Allärt too was new to the Greenland environment. He was studying for a degree in liberal arts in Copenhagen and had come to Greenland as a part of his curriculum, to earn a few credits for his graduate level studies. He knew nothing of geology nor was it required of him. He had to assist me in erecting camps and collecting specimens and generally be around in case of mishaps, which could always happen in a rugged Arctic terrain. His main subjects were Danish literature and Sociology of which I knew even less.
"I think we'd better rest. Just call me Karsten henceforth as I'll call you Deepak ", he offered and wished me a good night.
at various camps in different parts of Greenland.
There was a flurry the next morning as each party prepared to leave for their own camps. We would be away from the base for three months. Just the two of us, all by ourselves. Sheer isolation. Not a soul in sight anywhere within fifty kilometers. The only person we would be seeing every ten days or so was the pilot who would come to shift our camps and provide rations. Around two o'clock that afternoon we began loading the helicopter. Alpine tents, sleeping bags, pistols camp stoves and so on. There was a deafening din as the engine revved up and we took off. Upon landing the whole cargo was unloaded in a hurry amidst the roaring confusion of the engine. We were shouting hoarse instructions to each other. Frenzied movements and actions. Noise and wind from the rotor blades. Doors closed. Engine revved up further. Ear splitting commotion. The 'copter took off and manoeuvring a high saddle, disappeared. And then there was silence all over.
The silence that descended was ghoulish. I wanted the noise to go, but not the way it went. Not so suddenly. Neither did I want that kind of silence. A bird's twitter, or at least the rustle of a leaf. Yes! That kind of silence would have been better. The hectic activity of the past few days, the laughter, the clinking of wine glasses in restaurants, all of them still remained in my memory but seemed lost forever. All that could even have happened on some other planet.
"What in the world are you thinking of ?", Karsten asked, glancing at me.
I thanked him much for that bit of speech. I was reassured that I was not alone. I excitedly explained to him how I felt.
"How surprising! That was precisely my feeling", said Karsten.
Pleased to hear that the eerie sensation was not peculiar to me, I thought of how at that very moment of space and time in the universe there were two of us with the same feeling, and in the comprehension of our unique and total interdependence such as I had never experienced earlier, I regained vigour.
"Do you feel a sharp perception of the environment around you? My bones seem to be vibrating in resonance with savage Nature! I've never felt this before!" exclaimed Karsten.
(To be continued ... )
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