A boy's-eye view of the Arctic

by Kennett Longley Rawson

After we left Cape York, the midnight sun was with us no longer, and we had darkness for the first time in over a month. It indeed seemed strange to see the icebergs again bathed in a sunset flush, gleaming in the distance like old Greek temples of delicate pink marble. As twilight shaded into darkness and the stars blossomed once more in the heavens, we sat long on the quarter deck drinking in the infinite beauty of the night, silent save for the murmur of the water beneath the prow.

At Sukkertoppen.

At last, late in the evening of August 30th, after a remarkably rapid run from Cape York, we made our way into the harbor of Holsteinborg in Danish Greenland. We had heard much about this port from our companions who had made previous voyages, especially regarding the attractions of its maidens. Our expectations were aroused, and great was our chagrin when the governor refused us permission to land. The Commander came to the rescue, and after he had wirelessed to the Governor-general, he at last obtained consent for the expedition to go ashore. This permission was extended only until nightfall, however. Thus any participation in the much-heralded Greenland dances was frustrated. We went ashore, nevertheless, and were at least permitted to take photographs of the Greenland belles dressed in their barbaric finery. In return for their smiles we presented them with some beads and trinkets. Then we left them and went for a visit to the halibut canning factory which is this hundred-man-town’s only industry. Here are preserved annually several hundred thousand cans of the most delectable fish for shipment to Denmark.

Photo Melkon.

Dick Salmon with large cod jigged while stormbound
in Godthaab Fiord.

Here we waited a brief time for the Peary, and on her arrival we got under weigh for Sukkertoppen, a town of six hundred, and the largest in all Greenland. We were hospitably welcomed by Governor Langskov, who extended us a cordial welcome and the freedom of the city. His welcome was in strong contrast to the chilly reception farther up the coast, and we felt that we had once more arrived among friends. In every way possible, he and his charming family entertained us, and we did our best to return their hospitality. That night we gave the entire population a treat by showing our choicest films at the schoolhouse.

To thread our way through the unlighted town was a hazardous proceeding. Since the way to the schoolhouse was little better than a swampy trail, and ankle deep in mud over a considerable portion of its length, we had our troubles. Once we nearly walked off the sea-wall; again we nearly skidded down an abrupt and rocky hill. But at last we arrived at the schoolhouse which was pitch dark, owing to the fact that the oil lamps had not yet arrived. After considerable trouble, however, with the aid of a feeble flashlight, we managed to set up the projector and the screen. Then the population arrived, and the show began.

Being more nearly civilized, these people took far more interest in our regular cinema dramas than did the northern Eskimos, in fact these people are not really Eskimos at all, but three-quarters European.