Flying over the Iceford into Ilulissat airport, I immediately understand Sascha’s word of warning. Crowning at the entrance to the Icefjord are the largest icebergs I’ve ever seen in my life. Forget multi-storey carparks, these icebergs are chaotically enormous. And like a plug in a bathtub, these giant icebergs hold back a sheer white floe of ice within the fjord behind them. And with a small sinking feeling in my chest, definitely no route in for a boat.

It’s this Icefjord that originally drew me here, one of the most productive glaciers in the Northern Hemisphere. It felt like a key part in the ecosystem story, and I also wanted to get some East coast perspectives for my story about hunters in the region. Originally, I had wanted to get as far up as Saattut, but it didn’t work out with the availability of flights and it was out of budget to charter a boat that far north.For this portion of the expedition, I am staying in a local house, with a sweet elderly lady, who doesn’t speak English but seems nice and friendly. What is less ideal though is the understanding that I cannot use the fridge or the kitchen, which I had rather been expecting to. The house is painted in a bright blue, in the way that is classic across Greenland, and sits within a cluster of houses that overlook the Icefjord. Standing at the top of the road and looking down, the icebergs loom behind the houses, a single one bigger than the entire area of houses combined. It is an impressive sight and a metaphor once more for the sheer size and power of nature.

Chaos descends almost immediately when the boat I am supposed to go out on tells me it is full – which is annoying as I’m hoping to interview the captain and for his daughter to both connect me with local hunters and act as my translator. But, like in Kulusuk, it’s summer season and everyone is slammed with work, hunting and fishing, capitalising on the precious long days of light. Luckily, a local run and led tour operator gets back to me at 8pm that night, asking if I would like to join the 9.30pm tour instead. Their skipper is a seal hunter, they tell me. You can chat to him on the boat. And so, camera in hand, I head out to the Icefjord.

The tour is pretty wonderful. Though it’s supposedly an Icefjord tour, rather than a whale one, we’re immediately greeted by the puffs of two humpbacks feeding against the ice. The vibe is different to Kulusk, there are tour boats all around the whales, keeping a respectful distance, but the experience is less intimate I guess. Despite this, I’m torn, because the sunset light is beautiful and we’re so close to them so I want to shoot, but what I really need from this boat tour is to chat to the skipper.

Fredrick is young and his confidence shines through his smile. His English is very good – which has been a major barrier for interviews so far – and he speaks well. When most of the small boat’s tour visitors are outside with the whales, I sit down next to him to chat. I introduce myself and tell him I’m writing an article for a magazine. He’s incredibly receptive, and proceeds to tell me about seal hunting, the ice and the fjord. I ask if I can grab him for a proper interview in the coming days. “If you can catch me,” he says with a smile. “It’s incredibly busy at the moment and I’m never off.”