Crew members de-ice the bow of the vessel after it became stuck in the ice, while a Danish frigate fades into the mist in the background, in Sisimiut, Greenland, on March 15. FLORENT VERGNES/AFP
It's a Friday night and the port of Nuuk is a hive of activity. Passengers loaded down with heavy bags hurry aboard a rusty red and white ship — Greenland's last ferry.
Among them are an ethnologist and a few Danish tourists, but most are Greenlanders from the 74 villages and settlements that dot the west coast, a thin strip of land squeezed between the ice sheet and the open sea just south of the Arctic Ocean.
Sea ice forms in Disko Bay, not far from Ilulissat, Greenland, on March 15. FLORENT VERGNES/AFP
Linking Qaqortoq in the south to Ilulissat almost 1,000 kilometers north, the ferry was, for a long time, the only means of transport in Greenland, until air travel took over.
With its old-fashioned charm and pervasive smell of linoleum, the vessel feels stuck in 1992, the year it was built.
The engine rumbled, and a last kiss was blown toward the quay. On the deck, a passenger watched as Nuuk faded into the distance, just a glimmer under the northern lights.
People watch from the ground as their loved ones board the ferry at the port of Nuuk, Greenland, on March 13. FLORENT VERGNES/AFP
Welcome aboard the Sarfaq Ittuk.
The ship's crew swiftly got down to work, the cook battling heavy seas to line up colorful hors d'oeuvres.
Passengers shuffled cards and rolled dice, laughter rising up around the laminated tables in the cafe, the ferry's social hub.
"We know each other. We're talking about family, friends, weddings," said Karen Rasmussen, 60.
A man walks between walls of stacked containers on his way to the Sarfaq Ittukferry at the port of Sisimiut, Greenland, on March 14. FLORENT VERGNES/AFP
Chance of reconnection
The ferry offers villagers a chance to reconnect with those who left for the capital Nuuk during the rural exodus of the 1980s.
Karen looked out the porthole, her gaze absent. Next to her, 56-year-old Arne Steenholdt was just diagnosed with cancer "around here", he said, pointing to his stomach.
Both residents of remote communities, they were returning home from a hospital in Nuuk, the only facility offering advanced care.
In the evening, Steenholdt retired to his bunk, pulling the curtain to block out the light. Karen wasn't able to sleep a wink.
The ferry crossed the Arctic Circle on Saturday.
Crew members watch the waves from Sarfaq Ittukon March 14. FLORENT VERGNES/AFP
As waves crashed against the hull, a deckhand swept away the ice building up on deck."You gotta take care of the old lady," he shouted, referring to the ferry.
Normally ships only resume sailing at these latitudes in late April, when the coast is free from the pack ice that drifts in from neighboring Canada.
But in this exceptionally mild year, the Sarfaq Ittuk resumed its route in mid-February because the ice was "very late" and formed only a thin layer, Captain Jens Peter Berthelsen said.
Greenland's west coast registered its warmest January on record, with temperatures up to 11 C warmer than usual, according to the Danish Meteorological Institute.
Women embrace before one of them departs aboard the ferry, at the port of Nuuk, Greenland, on March 13. FLORENT VERGNES/AFP
Berthelsen kept his eyes fixed on the horizon. "The challenge is to detect the underwater icebergs."
Global warming has made it more difficult to predict when the pack ice will return.
"Ten or 15 years ago it was in September, and now it's only late December or January," he said.
Mass was held in Greenlandic in the cafe on Sunday, glassware rattling from the ferry's vibrations. As it approached Ilulissat, it steered through the thin pack ice scraping against the hull.
Passengers sit at a table in Sarfaq Ittuk's cafe, chatting while playing cards on March 14. FLORENT VERGNES/AFP
In the bay, the ice rippling in the ship's wake had something magical about it, but not for Ludvig Larsen. He was bored.
"The helicopter was canceled, so I had to take the boat," said the 60-year-old referee headed to Ilulissat for a football tournament.
In recent years, he's started flying instead of taking the ferry, enabling him to reach Greenland's "iceberg capital" in just 25 minutes.
Now he was spending the day at sea.
Passengers wearing life jackets and coldwater survival suits wait to board a small motorboat from Sarfaq Ittukto reach their village, whose harbor is not equipped to accommodate large vessels, in Kangaamiut, Greenland, on March 14. FLORENT VERGNES/AFP
Climate change
On the west coast, climate change is causing more humidity and fog, leading to more flight cancellations.
Greenland has gambled on air travel: Nuuk's international airport opened in 2024, and two others will follow this year in the south and north to better connect the island's 57,000 inhabitants and attract tourists.
Due to the lack of sufficient funding, the government must choose between taking the Sarfaq Ittuk out of service in 2027, despite some 22,000 passengers a year, or investing in a high-end tourist vessel.
This photo taken from the deck of the Sarfaq Ittukferry shows the village of Kangaamiut, Greenland, in the morning light on March 14. FLORENT VERGNES/AFP
As passengers disembarked, a young girl ran into a friend's arms, sobbing. Children chased each other, laughing. Tourists snapped photographs of every falling snowflake.
Meanwhile, the new passengers hauled their luggage up the gangway.
On deck, the captain and crew used heavy sledgehammers to break up the thick shell of ice covering the ferry.
That evening, the Sarfaq Ittuk would head south again.
Agencies via Xinhua
