Beating the wind to Greenland

24 Jul, 2026

The first two and a half days were every bit as tough as the forecast had predicted. We beat into the wind across the Denmark Strait, tacking our way towards Greenland and adding countless extra miles. Capsula was slamming into the waves, her whole structure vibrating with every impact. For 36 hours we crawled between berth and saloon bench, forcing down a little food whenever we could. Our mechanical windvane held the course out there in the waves while we hid inside. We promised ourselves we'd thank it properly, on arrival.

By the end of day 3, the wind eased a bit. The slamming decreased. Capsula settled onto a more even position, pointed more directly towards Greenland and finally made good speed, unhindered by the waves.

We should have been able to relax.

But stronger winds than expected appeared in the updated forecast, still against us if we insisted on heading to southwest Greenland. We altered course. A bit more north, for a better angle. Direction Caroline Haven (not a real haven, but a beautifully protected anchorage), 200nm north of our initial destination, Prins Christian sound. More miles, but no more beating.

This offered us a few hours of respite.

Until the next forecast update. The latest GRIB placed the strongest gusts right on our arrival. I pictured us threading our way between icebergs in heavy wind and sea, and a knot formed in my stomach.

We could have bailed even more north, but that meant losing days we didn't have. We kept going and prayed to the gods of the sea for a gentler arrival than predicted.

And it happened.

Forecast after forecast, the gusts disappeared. Capsula settled into her groove and rode smooth waves at full speed.

We gained confidence, and pushed our luck.

We headed further south, further upwind. Direction Timmiarmut, a secluded anchorage near an abandoned weather station, 50nm south of Caroline Haven.

The forecast turned again. Gusts, back on the table.

I "curled up" in bed. Aka lay on the heeling side of Capsula, firmly wedged against the cabin wall. Fear settled in. I couldn't reason it away, despite Stefano's reassurances.

Objectively, there was no real danger. If the conditions were too rough on arrival, we would simply heave-to offshore and wait for the weather to pass before threading our way through the icebergs.

Easy enough to reason through. Much harder to believe after four days at sea, exhausted and approaching completely unfamiliar waters. On arrival, there were no gusts. The wind faded, the sea flattened and the fog lifted, revealing the mountain chain of East Greenland.

Our charts were off by a few hundred metres, forcing us back to old-school pilotage and pattern recognition to identify the entrance to the anchorage, half hidden behind icebergs.

We squeezed Capsula between the icebergs and the rocky shore, one eye on the depth sounder, the other on the ice.

Finally, after 6 days at sea, we reached the safety of Timmiarmut anchorage, a perfectly sheltered cove in a mineral landscape.

Anne, Greenland, July 2026

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