The last few legs of the trip felt like it went by really fast. With the plane serviced one last time during this circumnavigation, I was ready to cross the Atlantic. My original route had me going to Wick in Scotland – the classic launch point for ferry flights. It also had me crossing Greenland on the more southernly route via Narsarsuaq and Goose Bay. Weather ended up blocking both.
7 September 2024: Troyes, France to Wick (Aberdeen), Scotland
I took off from Troyes with all the intent of flying my flight plan route over the channel and then up the east coast of the UK as filed. That turned out to be naive. France (Seine Approach, Paris Control etc) was fine enough. Thus far there’s never been any issues with air traffic control on IFR flights – they operate to ICAO standards and with decent English the world over. But not in England. Including the “decent English” part! The UK has a mess of unique airspaces and unique IFR service levels that doesn’t exist anywhere else. Admittedly I could have done my homework better, but one does tend to rely on the uniformity of global ICAO standards when doing these flights. Basically, it’s possible to fly south to north the length of the UK, in full instrument conditions, without talking to anyone. They dump you into uncontrolled airspace after which you’re pretty much on your own – including trying to get your IFR flight plan reinstituted once you re-enter controlled airspace. They even have a term for this: “dumped at Detling” – Detling being a VOR southeast of London where they typically like to route you to – and then discharge you with “my services terminate”. And they don’t give new frequencies or instructions on what to do. So that’s exactly what happened. I was routed to Detling and “dumped”. After weeks of dealing with ATC I was also a bit more hard-ass and insisted they stay with me or give me new frequencies, which they did. I still was flying on vectors, fifty to sixty miles west of my planned route, for the entire length of the UK all the way to Scotland. By far the poorest ATC service I received throughout the trip. You also can’t understand them. I fly in New York and Boston airspace every time I leave my home airport, so I’m used to being fast on the radio and dealing with accents. (In fact, dealing with New York and Boston controllers over the years is probably great preparation for a trip like this). But UK was something else. (For all pilots – this YouTube series explains all the ins and outs – go watch it). Oh, of course also no LPV approaches in the UK – because Brexit killed the agreement with EGNOS and they aren’t licensed any longer. Honestly, what a bunch of dumbasses. Next time it’s Norway to Iceland if I repeat this trip – stay in modern civilization.
So after being vectored and frustrated by the poms, Wick was looking really bad with fog throughout the entire day. I kept monitoring but it wasn’t looking great and about thirty minutes prior to landing I notified ATC that I’m diverting to Aberdeen. This is the much larger airport with a proper ILS approach. It was a few miles away from the coast which spared it a bit from the coastal fog in Scotland so I got in, but still with only 600ft ceilings. This was now an unannounced arrival but Signature Flight Support were great in dealing with me and notifying customs. (I cleared customs over the ramp agent’s phone). Much like the US where you give advance notice of arrival, you have to file a GAR in the UK prior to arrival and departure so they were aware of me – but expecting me to show up in Wick. I found a hotel without much fuss and was on my way there in no time – and in time to find a pub that showed the Springboks vs New Zealand game!
9 September 2024: Aberdeen, Scotland to Reykjavik, Iceland
The weather unfortunately stayed poor and as tempted as I was to move on, I just delayed by another day again. I’ve now gotten to the point where I wanted to reduce all weather risk to the minimum. Candidly my nerves were getting a bit frayed from the constant worrying, and I just didn’t want to be flying in conditions that were in any way marginal.
The following day the fog had lifted but there was still icing risk over Scotland. With Jon and Pierre we checked it out extensively and I decided to make a go for it. And sure enough, I did get some light clear ice on the climb out and that always makes me skip a few beats. Unchecked, this stuff will bring down a small aircraft in no time. But I was out of it and above the layer fairly quickly, climbing up to 14,000ft and going on oxygen.
About halfway to Iceland things cleared up nicely though and I could descend and get of the oxygen. The wind was howling in Reykjavik though. They gave me the RNP RWY 01 approach and I had up to 35kts gusts from about 30 degrees. This meant I landed twice – definitely not elegant and lucky not to break something in the plane.
The next day was forecast to be even worse. The tempting thing was that once about fifty miles west of Reykjavik, the weather would be perfect. It would also be perfect for crossing the Greenland icecap. So again, it was tempting to just wing it and take off, but the risk of breaking something was unacceptably high.
The tell-tale lenticular clouds I took a photo of later in the day is all you need to see to disabuse you of that idea. So I stayed put, got some admin done, and delayed until the following day. Sadly I didn’t get to see much of Reykjavik (or Iceland) but my reasoning is also that some places like Reykjavik are easy to come back to in future.
11 September 2024: Reykjavik, Iceland to Kangerlussuaq, Greenland
Weather was now perfect and I took off in the morning with a mild ten knots wind. As mentioned, when I planned my route the idea was to cross Greenland to the south and land at Narsarsuaq and then from there go to Goose Bay in Canada. However, the entire southern part of Greenland was closed out due to weather and was going to remain so for days. On the other hand, the more northern route was completely clear. So it was obvious that I would go to Kangerlussuaq and then on to Iqaluit in Canada. This by the way is one of the original “Blue Spruce” routes. These were originally used by the US Army Air Corps to ferry warbirds across the Atlantic during WW2. So again like with so many other airfields I’ve used during this trip, I was reverting back to original military infrastructure.
The challenge with flying to Kangerlussuaq is not just that this is now north of the Arctic Circle (67N, Arctic Circle being at 66.33N). It is also that you have to cross the Greenland icecap. What is incredible is that this is over 8000ft high and the minimum safe altitude over that is 12,000ft. So unless it’s a clear day, there’s a risk of running into icing again because of the altitude you have to fly at. Luckily the 11th was mostly clear except for a slight finger of cloud that was reaching up from the south.
Crossing Greenland was magnificent. Frankly it’s also probably the worst place to go down. The icecap is exceptionally remote and has all the challenges you’ll find in places like Antartica – including crevasse issues. So it’s not like you just drive up on it.
If you read the accounts of polar explorers like Peter Freuchen, many many people have succumbed in the past trying to cross the Greenland icecap. Much like flying over the Arabian desert, I couldn’t help thinking about what adventures have played out below me though. (One ongoing expedition is to recover several WW2 fighter planes that ended up being buried in the ice just west of Kulusuk after being forced to land on the icecap due to weather in 1942. They become known as the Lost Squadron).
Kangerlussuaq lies at the end of a fjord well inland so it has the benefit of being somewhat protected from the typical coastal weather. It was mostly visual conditions getting in there. I stayed in the Kangerlussuaq hotel right at the airport and was ready to take the short five hour flight to Iqaluit, Canada the next day at lunchtime.
