Photography

All photos are Copyright Angus Munro. More shots, from Isortoq to Kangerlussuaq: Below: It was a struggle carrying our 100+kg of gear through 6 airports en route to Greenland. In Copenhagen, one of our trolleys went for a spill at the bottom of an escalator... we had to scramble to pick up the pieces blocking everyone's way, frightening the wits out of some Danes behind us who thought they were about to get entrained into the escalator's inner workings. Malaysia Airlines were extremely good getting us to Europe and back, but the legs to Iceland and Greenland involved using another 5 carriers, to minimise costs. These were SAS, Iceland Express, Air Iceland, Alpha Air, and Air Greenland. We managed to avoid excess baggage charges until reaching Greenland; once there, we forked up big for each flight: for example, having to buy 5 tickets instead of two on a helicopter flight to accommodate the two of us and our sleds - then still being hit up for extra kilos. Below: On the clear nights in Iceland, we saw wonderful auroral displays. This one we saw while we were camping near the small town of Vik on the south coast. Below: Night falls on Myrdalsjokull icecap, Iceland. This is the first night of many where all that seemed to exist was the cold icy expanse, and our warmer, cramped and eventually smelly cocoon of a tent. Below: Practicing with kites on Myrdalsjokull. Our 5m^2 kites were a good size for our purposes. The only problems were a difficulty keeping close to the wind (to improve with practice), and our slightly annoying handle harness system. A bar system we think would work much better (though requires more practice). The ice tended to snag the thin kite lines, sometimes making setting up and relaunching very frustrating! Frustrating also was the wind when we were on the Greenland Icecap. As well as the Piteraq storm, we got little usable wind in our 2 weeks there - anything blowing from the east was light and shifty. Our best day of kiting in Greenland was about day 4. We got the kites out with a steady breeze blowing from the north-east (we wanted to head north, so I had my doubts!) at 600m altitude. While there was first some difficulty with Simon having trouble close to the wind, we soon both were slicing along effortlessly, being pulled uphill towards the NE in the warm sun. We were averaging 10km/h and peaking at 20km/h... and gained 400m elevation in an hour! It was an amazing feeling. There was just us and the ice, and our kites whistling to and fro as if summoning magical energies. After days of back-breaking hauling of heavy loads uphill through atrociously sticky slush and slipping and sliding past steep melt hummocks in the rain, this was heaven! Below: Our rations for 35 days (excluding the model, luckily), laid out after a productive trip to the Pilersuisoq supermarket in Tasilaq. Roughly L-R: 1kg nuts, 4kg oil, 4kg muesli, 3kg chocolate, 2kg nutella, sauces and drinks, 4kg milk powder, 2kg peanut butter, 2kg sugar, 66 packets soup, 3kg cheese, 4kg margarine(ugh), 66 chocolate biscuit bars, 9 packets corn biscuits, 66 muesli bars, 3 packs pancake mix, a green bag of spares and condiments, 7kg marcipan, and (at rear) 19kg of delicious freeze-dried ration packs. We also took daily multivitamins and omega-3 supplements. Below: The boat ride from Isortoq to our sledging start, ANZAC day April 25. We reached a barrier of sea-ice across the fjord about halfway to the destination, which if impassable would have added about 7km of rough rocky terrain to our journey: not what we needed, with sleds weighing 70kg each. Luckily, the Greenlandic fisherman at the helm was skilled in ramming the boat into the sea ice (while we hacked with ice axes out the side) - a la Aurora Australis - and presto, we broke a passage through. Simon can be seen here probably looking back towards the ice barrier thinking 'what a bugger if we hadn't got through that'... Below: One of the problems of storing navigation equipment and marcipan in the same bag (then squashing it into a sled). Made it difficult to acquire our location. Below: One of the problems of preparing hot drinks and trying to take off ski boots in the same small space! Below: Simon (L) and Angus (R) pause to start hauling on day 1. That day we had flown by helicopter from the town of Tasilaq to the tiny fishing village of Isortoq, and were dropped by a fisherman at the head of the Isortoq fjord. After skiing across some sea ice, we ascended a 50 degree snow ramp (about 30m high) to gain access to the icecap. The photo was taken at the top of this ramp. Hauling uphill, with Isortoq fjord in the background, day 1. Our sleds weigh about 75kg each. The rope between us was a precaution in case one of us fell into a crevasse. If that happened, the other would set up an ice anchor and haul the unlucky one out with a pulley system (if necessary). Below: An ice-encrusted Simon has just returned to the tent (day 7) after tending the snow wall protecting our tent from the Piteraq storm. These are uncommonly strong storms that happen about once per month, and only within a narrow zone close to the Greenland coast, where cold & heavy air drains very quickly (up to 250kph) off the top of the icecap. When the photo was taken the wind was still getting stronger - in a few hours, neither of us could go outside because standing up was impossible. We had to add blocks to the snow wall while we could, as it was the only line of defence against winds strong enough to blow away the tent and us. Through our minds echoed Robert Peroni's words, in a soft Italian accent, "the wall... it is your life". Soon we could do nothing but wait inside for 2 days, hoping the wall wouldn't get eroded away by blasting snow. Snow blew into every conceivable space in the tent and everything becaume very damp inside. Talking was difficult as the tent fabric was roaring constantly. We later heard that this was a 'moderate' Piteraq - winds around 150kmh was our estimate. Simon's eyes say it all - we were worried. Below: During the Piteraq storm again. Solid snow encrusted the tent so it was dark inside, and the condensation ice on the inside fell off on us whenever we moved, melting and trickling down our necks etc. Below: The ice offered infinite forms and shapes to us as we slowly moved along. They ranged from small waves the size of dinner plates (pictured) to the half-metre-deep sastrugi left by the piteraq storm, which greatly slowed our progress. Below: At last (after having turned around) we enjoyed some stable, calm, continental weather. It was a joy to set camp in the evening sun after a hard day hauling, the only inconvenience being that it was -15C outside so that setting up folding chairs and enjoying a rum and coke outside was not on... Below: More sled hauling. Even a tiny change in the slope of the ice made a big difference to how easy the skiing was. We also each tended to veer left or right when there was no visual reference - meaning we had to check the compass often - resulting in two very slightly weaving trails cutting the infinity of ice. Below: Pitching camp, day 14. The wind was blowing - we rode the katabatic with our kites for much of the afternoon. This evening we were tired from tussling with the kites in a wind which was too strong, and was chilling us slightly as we dug out a tent site in the fading sun. Below: Day 15, on which we lost 1000m altitude and reached the coast. The photo shows Simon skirting to the left of two unmapped nunataqs (not visible in photo), which barred our progress. These nunataqs are rocky peaks previously covered by the icecap, but now exposed due to retreat of the ice: undoubtedly caused by global warming. Below: Refrozen melt pools provided a hard, smooth but broken highway during our last leg to the coast, day 15. Below: With two kilometres to go to our start point on terra firma late on day 15, we encountered a field of huge melt features (probably old crevasses) that made tough going. We hauled up and down pits undulating by up to 2m, taking half an hour to cover about 150m. Below: Simon and Angus, tired but happy, late on day 14. Having made good progress for the day, we realised that the next day should see us to the coast. Tasmania Photographs of the sublime Tassie wilderness. Taken by Angus while he was at uni (or, meant to be at uni) between 2000 and 2004. Antarctica Photographs from Angus' summer at Davis station and the Amery Ice Shelf, Antarctica, November 2004 - February 2005. South Korea Photographs from Angus' travels in South Korea, September - October 2004. Thailand and Laos Photographs from Angus' travels in Southeast Asia, October 2004.