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We arrive at Saqqaq on the blow
of the 17:00. On the councils of Jeff, we will be
posed with the variation of the village, on its part
Is, an immense soft inclined ground. The sight is
impregnable there. To a few hundred meters, a belt
of icebergs masks the horizon. On the ground, a tent
is already in place. Flemming, accustomed Danish of
the places, completes in this at the beginning of
August its estival migration. As after each course
in autonomy, Saqqaq is for us a stage city where we
restock ourselves with fresh produce. It is also the
occasion of sorting in to send our images via the
connection Internet of the office of commune. We
request Flemming, so that it puts to us in relation
to two Greenlandic representative of the village, in
order to collect their testimony. Jeff, also
informed us of the presence of Yann Lemoine, in the
sector. Yann, to have advised to us before our
departure, is to some extent our godfather on this
tour. A rapid visits on the site of Far North Big
wide gives us its last positions. Indeed, it is not
very far. We obtain his satellite phone number, and
its periods of day before. At 6 p.m. specifies, the
contact is established, and an appointment is
materialized, on two zones of potential bivouacs.
Yann, returning with its group on Saqqaq, cannot we
miss us.
After a first day downtown, of
return to our camping, we note that the tent of
Flemming was visited. It is indeed mainly torn.
Certainly the work of a dog in freedom. We then take
great care to leave all the products food inside the
kayaks. The following day, Flemming takes its
mission in heart organizes us two discussions with
buildings. For one of them, its presence as a
translator, is essential for us. Indeed, Mr. Adolf
Eugenius Jensen which cumulates the functions of
priest, carpenter, hunter, fisherman, as the large
majority of the people met on our course does not
speak English. This day, we leave Saqqaq and, like
agreed, leave to the meeting Yann. The stage, within
sight of the proximity of the places of appointment,
lends itself to new images in the middle of the
ices. Suddenly cries resound when in front of us a
flotilla of imposing kayaks appears. The meeting is
moving, the embraces are done on water, we are not
long in reversing our road to follow the group, and
to join the bivouac.
After a sympathetic nerve
gathering of boletus, it is around a risotto house,
and in the middle of judicious smoke to push back
the flies which we exchange our venture and
respective information. The following day, each one
takes again its road, ours carries out us on Appat,
an old station whale-boat. There, solidified by
time, a dozen buildings for some in excellent state,
give to the places an unreal charm. The city, in the
past called Ritenberk was, most important by far of
the area.
We
settle in the common part of an old Danish counter.
Suspended on the ceiling, of many boards with first
names and inscriptions, one per year, have reported
for twenty years the arrival of school complexes in
this place. Our businesses posed, benefitting from a
shaving lighting, we carry out a series of
photographs of the various buildings of this phantom
city. And like a revenge on the past, a duet of
whales emerges then. The decision is made, taking
into account our advance, we will be posed some time
here. The following day, after a frugal breakfast,
we leave in search water. It on the heights, passed
two old cemeteries, that we find it. In spite of the
driest summer for one century (it has not had here
for several weeks), a lake with dimensions of a
football field has been still present. Blow, more
concern for our autonomy. Of return to the station,
benefitting from the low tide, we offer ourselves a
feast of sea urchins, as lunching, accompanied by
the powerful breath by the whales which pass and
pass by again, in the middle of the channel. Around
6 p.m., we are equipped for a targeted navigation.
The objective, is to make photographs close to the
whales. Which pleasure of embarking in a kayak
without having to charge it. To sail with vacuum,
gets feelings forgotten for a long time. Motionless
in the middle of the fiord, we watch for the arrival
of our visitors. Often by group of two, they borrow
indifferently the Northern and Southern access
channel. The continuation, is only anticipation and
positioning. We are generally with about fifteen
meters of them. With this distance, most impressive
is certainly the power of their breath. Encircling
their preys of thousands of bubbles, they make
sometimes surface, a fin in the air, for,
thereafter, coming to beat surface this water. Our
presence seems of nothing to disturb them. When on
the same axis, their road is opposed to our, the
emotion is to the maximum. Which vision to see this
submarine, to advance slowly on you, and with a few
meters, to avoid you while passing under the kayak.
We carry out our images, while trying anything to
lose these privileged moments. When the sun, côtoie
the horizon the colors resplendissent revealing a
little more the magic of this place. Slowly, such
two one evening old guards, we regain, in charge of
images, our village forgotten. Three days peaceful
are passed thus in Appat where we celebrate with
simplicity and harmony, the birthday of Nathalie. |