CUBBY'S CHILLY CHALLENGE

Cubby flies out to the stunning scenery of Greenland to help with the filming of the Arctic Challenge and meet the local Inuit people.

I was hoping for a bit of a lie in this morning but the sun's warm rays soon worked their way through the lightweight green rip stop of our little two-man tent. Reluctantly, I wrestled with the heat until I could bear no more and partially extricated myself from the depths of my sweaty pit and reached out to unzip the flysheet.

The fresh air was revitalising. All I could see through the little gap was sheets of striated gneiss, patch worked with bands of quartz. I had to take a double take. Was I really still on the Isle of Lewis? I needed to see more so I pushed my bleary eyed bothy-head through the gap to get a wider view. Wow!

"The bad news Cubby," said Richard Else our producer/director - that's head Honcho to you and me, "the bad news is that we have to stop off at Reykjavik on Iceland, both on the outward journey and on our return". "What, for a few hours?" I asked inquisitively. "Gosh no, for a night." "Oh, that is bad!!"

So there we were, a silver-haired wizard of a soundman who played in a band, three cameramen, a production assistant, John Whittle and myself - the safety team. John is another silver-haired wizard, in his early 50s and the most laid back person you're ever likely to meet. He spends most of his time on planet Neptune but he has a great calming influence when things get a little bit stressed. All of us were determined to have a night out. I mean what else do you do in one of the world's most trendy nightspots!

We said our goodnights to the Scottish team, Jackie Bird the presenter and Richard and crept out of the hotel to hit the town, just for a quick pint and no doubt looking more like a hardcore fishing crew from Kinlochbervie, than a camera crew! Keith who used to be a bit of a DJ knew a good bar so we didn't question his choice but I think it had been redesigned since his last visit. All of us, with the exception of myself of course were accosted by a gaggle of Viking women. It was like something out of 70s Fort William, with women dancing around handbags, cigarettes in hand and making all the advances! I have to admit to feeling a bit left out at first but on closer inspection, our blonde temptresses were leathery faced old fish wives looking for a good catch. I didn't feel quite so left out in the end.

We were heading for South East Greenland to film an Arctic Challenge for BBC2 TV. The emphasis was on following the Scottish team and as usual our role was to act as safety for the film crew. The event in Greenland had been organised by people living there but the Scottish team selection event was held in the Cairngorms earlier this year and was organised by Triple Echo Productions, Mark Diggins and Glenmore Lodge.

Richard is an academic with a passion for the outdoors and mountaineering and in particular, the many interesting characters that make our crazy little world of climbing tick. In many respects he has just about achieved veteran status as a specialist in making climbing and mountaineering documentaries, with many award-winning films to his credit. The highly acclaimed The Edge series, The Face and Wild Climbs to name just a few. I have been very fortunate to be a part of a highly specialised team who assisted in the making of all these films over the last six to eight years.

But my view is that all good things come to an end sooner or later and that climbing films had run their course, at least for the foreseeable future. So when I received a call from Triple Echo to let me know that there was potentially a job in Greenland, well you can imagine - I was ecstatic. "Cubby," Richard would studiously begin, in an almost Bonnington-like manner. In fact he's even been mistaken for Bonnington. "Is that really him?" asked a fisherman in the bar at Lochinver, as if he was some kind of demi-god. It made me sick. What do you have to do to become famous! Anyway, Richard continued using words that I didn't know existed, never mind the meaning of them. "Potentially Cubby, we would like you to work for us in Greenland. Safety of course will be of prime importance but in addition to your safety role, we would like you to operate a mini DVC."

Feeling a touch under par after our "quick" pint in Reykjavik, we touched down in Kulusuk. The underside of our 40-seater jet prop was peppered with chippings, churned up by the wheels of the plane as they sunk into the gravel runway. Kulusuk is a tiny island in South East Greenland, separated from Ammassalik island by a stretch of water that will involve either a boat trip through pack ice, or a 15 minute helicopter ride. Most of the challenge will take place in the mountains and glaciers of Ammassalik but the event started here in Kulusuk with a prologue - a high speed mountain bike event on a hilly Land Rover track.

So for the next couple of nights, the local school in this tiny Inuit village was going to be our home. The scenery was incredible. Pack ice shifted on the surface of the sea with changing tides and currents. The mountains were not so dissimilar to the Cullin on Skye except for the glaciers and ice cap but otherwise the scale and altitude was much the same. The quality climbing that we have heard so much about in magazines recently is further to the north and on a clear day we could see impressive Baffin-like peaks amidst distant mountain ranges. Wooden houses built on stilts and brightly painted in ochre, sienna, cobalt blues and vivid green, dotted the hilly and craggy landscape. Tarmac hadn't reached here. Skidoos parked outside houses sat lame until the coming winter. Almost all of the families owned huskies, which were kept outside and are highly respected. Sealskins, polar bear skins, salmon and other fish hung out to cure in the dry, polar continental air. Some of the Inuit families had boats too but normally, save for a couple of months during the summer, the sea is covered in ice and transport by boat is rendered useless.

The Inuit people were friendly and the young children especially I thought looked almost walrus like, with podgy, blubbery faces and dark olive skin, with beaver-like teeth. People generally appeared to not have a lot to do, which is reflected in some ways by the number of children! There was a suggestion of manana in their make up and evidence of alcohol related problems, which is hardly surprising - six months of the year in light and six months of near darkness. The suicide figures are quite high but I was told, contrary to popular belief that most of the suicides take place when the transition from night back to daylight occurs - the party time is over!

There wasn't an awful lot to do on Kulusuk island once the initial culture shock had worn off. I looked forward to the journey to Ammassilk, the capital of South East Greenland. A small town where ancient methods of livelihood and survival had interrogated with modern technology in balanced harmony.

Cubby
31/8/2001

To be continued in the next Cubby Column