First off, let me confirm that it’s true: Iceland is green, and Greenland isn’t–at least, not at this time of year. We had hoped to get a predawn start from Goose Bay, Labrador, for our fuel stop in Narsarsuaq, Greenland–but Mike Laver, who I’m accompanying on a flight around the world to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the Mitsubishi MU-2’s first flight, remembered that you couldn’t depart for Narsarsuaq without getting a recent observation from the field…and the airport doesn’t open until 6 a.m. Sometimes, interational operations are just “interesting” but in this case, the airport lies at the end of a fjord, and weather frequently makes it a challenging place to get into.
Once off, however, we’re cleared directly to FL250 as we pass over a solitary boat on Lake Melville. “We’re going faster in the climb than we were in cruise yesterday,” Mike remarked, pointing at the groundspeed readout. Far below, whisps of morning fog rise, painting delicate white lines on the dark canvas of the Earth. The rising sun reflects on marshland below as we go feet wet over the Labrador Sea. We’re covering ground–er, water–at a rate of 313 knots when we cross the Davis Straits, but a solid layer below precludes any view of the water. Then we pass through 10 or 20 miles of clear sky, followed by more clouds–these with vertical development, despite the early hour. By 2 p.m. these could provide significant weather, and they show the wisdom of launching early in the day for long trips.
We’re in nonradar airspace. Proper configuration of the screens on Mike’s Garmin GTN 750 and GTN 650 makes position reporting a breeze. The sky below us has cleared–was that an iceberg? A good tailwind gets us to Narsarsuaq in slightly more than two hours, so we didn’t have to take on a full load of fuel (at $8 per gallon)–and there’s no question that the shape off the end of Runway 7 as we approach is an iceberg.
After a quick refueling, we pause to talk with Martin and Juliette Prakken, who had just landed in a Socata TBM 700. Natives of the Netherlands who moved to Virginia about 20 years ago, he uses the airplane for business in the United States and in Europe, flying it across for several months every summer. They were westbound, heading home with their two children before school starts. Pilots flying internationally are quick to exchange notes about the weather and procedures; later at our hotel in Reykjavik, we talk with the pilot of a Socata TB-20 who had been following us east.
Narsarsuaq is…cool. Any longer on the ground and I would have had to upgrade to a heavier coat. On Greenland’s east coast, however, it looked downright cold. The snowpack appeared thick and glaciers were calving icebergs–so many in a couple spots that the water looked more like a bowl of ice cubes. But we’re high above by now, enjoying an 80-knot tailwind. Eventually over the Atlantic we see nothing but a lot of water. While we don’t see any whitecaps from FL270, the texture of the surface looks like something to avoid in a small boat. After about two more hours, we break out of clouds at 2,200 feet and touch down at Reykjavik in light rain.
Tomorrow we fly to Newcastle, England, for a fuel stop, and then to Straubing, Germany, for the night. If you want to know where we’re going, a schedule that’s almost up to date is posted on Mike Laver’s website. If you want to see where we’ve been, check out my DeLorme tracking map–the longer distance between tracking points today (the InReach SE updates position every 10 minutes) illustrates how much faster our groundspeeds were today.