Exploring Greenland on a luxury icebreaker that mixes science and swish comforts | Canada Voices

One night, while sailing Greenland’s east coast, I stepped out onto my cabin’s balcony to take in the horizon. “It looks like the sun is rising,” I thought, but it was 11:53 p.m. There were several otherworldly instances like this, when I was suddenly aware that the rhythm of the day is very different on the Blosseville Coast, cruising the waters of the Denmark Strait in the far North Atlantic.

This stretch of Greenland is challenging to navigate, known for impassable ice and thick fog. But the mid-May timing of my journey and a favourable weather forecast meant we had endless sunshine to take in, vistas that one commenter on a photo I posted said looked like I was on another planet.

Another magical afternoon, a polar bear that had been resting at the edge of an ice shelf lumbered up to the hull and stood to inspect the curious structure that had appeared out of nowhere. My fellow passengers and the crew, most of whom had left their stations to take in the incredible sight, were so quiet we could hear the snow crunch under the bear’s paws when it put them back on the ground.

These surreal experiences were only possible at this time of year because of the ship I was on. Ponant Explorations’ Le Commandant Charcot is an ice-breaking ship, rated Polar Class 2, which means it can break ice up to 2.5 metres thick and access towns in eastern Greenland earlier in the year than other cruises.

Typically, an icebreaker is used by navies and coast guards. Ponant had its ship custom built to house a luxury hotel with 123 staterooms, two restaurants and outdoor thermal pool between utilitarian decks outfitted with science laboratories.

During the 10 days at sea on Ponant’s Inuit Spring of Ammassalik sailing, there were talks about sled dogs and polar bears, hunting in Greenland and glacial ice. But it was a lecture from the ship’s engineer that helped me understand just how special this experience – my first cruise – was.

The ship’s ice-breaking capabilities meant we were the first of the year to visit Tasillaq, the largest town on the east coast with a population of 2,000. As we toured the village with guides, wandering past colourful homes and buildings perched on top of mountain tundra (painted yellow for hospitals, red for schools and police stations, green for administrative buildings), word spread among residents that fresh produce was being transported from the ship to the dock and straight to the town’s main grocery store.

A dogsledding experience, standard fare for holidays in northern climates, became a lesson in geography as we met with Inuit mushers who had journeyed overnight with their pups – one by a small fishing boat, others overland sleeping in hunting cabins along the way – to meet the ship in Qenertivartivit, a region in the tranquil fjords of the southeastern coast.

And that intimate polar bear sighting could only happen because the captain and crew had engaged the ship’s electric engine, which draws power from silent batteries for up to eight hours to minimize noise and eliminate emissions.

Contrasting with the rugged coastal mountains, wildlife and seemingly endless ice that stretched to the horizon and took various forms – icebergs, floes, and chunks that broke up and appeared to regroup as we moved through them – was the serene atmosphere on board.

With a maximum of 245 guests and 215 crew members, it was easy to find a contemplative corner on the ship. Cocoon-like cabins, with unexpectedly powerful showers, delivered peaceful nights to recover from the day’s activities. A spa, sauna, snow room and outdoor thermal pool offered midday moments to recharge. And the Observatory Lounge on an upper deck provided unobstructed views and the opportunity to trade stories with other travellers.

The two restaurants on board included a buffet with an outdoor grill (because the perfect way to mark completing a snowshoe trek is a hearty cheeseburger and perfectly crisped sweet potato fries) and Nuna, an Alain Ducasse restaurant where French cuisine incorporates local ingredients, such as Greenlandic wild salmon. Wait staff had cushions waiting at my seat one night after I had asked for them the night before. They adapted each meal’s bread options to our group’s preferences and anticipated digestif requests before we’d even gestured to order.

The culinary surprises weren’t restricted to the restaurants. I braved a polar plunge and was rewarded with both applause and a divinely rich hot chocolate after I towelled off. Our afternoon of dogsledding ended with tea time on the ice, including a generous portion of Baked Alaska and mulled wine. Another on-the-ice tasting, this time of caviar, saw the ship’s passengers devour four kilograms of the sumptuous treat.

As a first-time cruiser, to say that I was spoiled would be an understatement. I had no expectations of the ship, its activities or the terrain we encountered but they were nonetheless exceeded. The whims of the weather, water and wildlife aligned to make this an unforgettable experience – up to the last minute. As we journeyed towards Reykjavik, Iceland, for disembarkation, we sailed past a pod of orcas, dipping above and below the water line. It was a dreamy grand finale as we cruised back to Earth.

ON LOCATION

Ponant

Ponant’s science program is the connection between every ship and cruise itinerary. In addition to its guest accommodations, Le Commandant Charcot is considered a laboratory, with two working labs on board. Researchers apply to work on the ship and the captain and crew meet with the scientists at the start of every trip to learn their needs and incorporate them into the itinerary. On our sailing, a whaleologist from New Zealand was launching sonar torpedoes to listen to whales in the Arctic waters.

To expand its sustainability strategy, Ponant’s own science team is developing what the company calls Swap2Zero, a zero-emissions 100-stateroom vessel. The transoceanic ship is expected to launch in 2030. “This is much more than a new ship,” says Hervé Gastinel, Ponant’s CEO and chief sustainability officer. “We want to offer a new mode of navigation and actively contribute to decarbonization of the maritime sector.”

Passage on Inuit Spring of Ammassalik aboard Le Commandant Charcot, from US$20,250 per person through ponant.com.

Style Magazine travelled to Greenland as a guest of Ponant. The company did not review or approve this article prior to publication.