The clock is just turning 11am and we’re sitting in the kitchen, cramming in another round of Nutella and bread and coffee when we spot the boat roaring into the bay. We all leap up – an hour ahead of schedule and the boat is already here?! On Greenlandic time, this is practically unheard of. It turns out that the fjord we came through on the way here is locked up with ice, so we’re taking the route along the open ocean coastline on the route back to Kulusuk. Though this way can be speedier, coastal wind, swell and ice could slow us down, so our captain is early.

We haul our bags down the treacherous rocks toward the boat one last time and waving our goodbyes, set off into the fjord of sunshine and ice. And after thirty seconds of boat breeze, promptly put all of our layers, heated vests and mitts on, until we’re suited up to the eyeballs. Our captain, a local guy, stands at the helm, gloveless and averages 16 knots as we expertly navigate our way through the fjord towards open ocean.

We reach the ocean in less than 20 minutes, back at the spot where we found the humpbacks feeding in the first couple of days. But this time, the entrance to the fjord is free of whales – and crammed with ice. There are towering mega-icebergs, rising high from between low lying chunks of ice floe that covers most of the sea surface. The water has little chop or waves and we pick our way through. We’re wedged, five of us, in the back seat. The boat is open topped, save a small windscreen at the front, and I praise the big man in the sky for the weather. It’s beautiful, sunlight shining off ice. I put my noise cancelling headphones on and start to lose myself in my thoughts.

This time has been incredibly important to me. Greenland is a place that has always felt like coming home to myself. I sometimes feel I was here in another life. There have been few places where I have connected with myself in the way that I do here. The wilderness, the power in the sky. Something about it helps me recognise this force within myself. And this week I have pushed myself – and I have grown. And that is always the goal. I feel strangely proud.

We move through the ice and though I’ve promised myself another ‘look don’t snap’ boat ride, the ice is just too enchanting and with my R5C mainly sitting in my housing all week, I’m itching to have it back in my hands – especially when I’m full of emotion – and feel in such a creative flow. And so, I unzip my bag at my feet, pull my camera to my eye, and get lost behind the lens once more.