I recently found myself alone on deck of a 70 ft sailing yacht, navigating it through a tightly packed field of icebergs in a fjord in Greenland. I would be lying if I said I was super relaxed about it…

Just a few days earlier I was halfway between Olafsvik, Iceland, and Tasiilaq, Greenland, photographing the very first piece of ice I saw, no bigger than a basketball. Little did I know that this would seem like the tiniest speck of dust just a few hours later. As the ice became more and more, the skipper came on deck to steer us through. I was back in my cabin when I heard the first crash against the hull. The loud noise in addition to the bow being pushed to the side rattled me. I knew the boat was built for this, but it made me nervous nonetheless. 

The next time I came on deck we were drifting, surrounded by a field of ice that stopped us from continuing on. It was my turn to keep watch and I was instructed to move any ice with the boat hook if it came close to the rudder and to keep a lookout for polar bears. Not your everyday instructions. I felt like I had gone through a portal into a different world. With no cell reception, floating in the Denmark Strait on a comparatively small vessel with 8 other people, seemingly alone in this world. 

After three days and three nights and sailing past icebergs that towered well over 40 meters above sea level, we finally arrived in Tasiilaq, Greenland. Throughout the week-long trip, sea ice and glacial ice were our constant companions. The skipper would mostly navigate us through, sometimes even breaking ice to help get us to our destination. At one point I was alone on deck with him. He had been steering for a few hours and needed a quick break. Before realizing what had happened I was at the helm with the instructions not to hit anything.

There are very few other moments in life that have put me in the present moment so quickly. I had to fully focus on my surroundings and the vessel and how it moves. It was not just about not hitting what was directly ahead but also searching for a path further on to not get stuck at a later point. It almost felt like a computer game, except that there was no start-over button and there were other real live humans onboard. I managed the challenge without hitting anything major but was happy when I could hand the helm back. 

Later on in the week, I got the opportunity to steer again, this time under supervision which made me much calmer. I was craving the experience because the immersion into the here and now was so satisfying. All other thoughts disappear. You are fully focused. There is so much beauty in that. There’s a reason why mindfulness practices are so beneficial. It is a wonderful and probably way less stressful alternative. Nonetheless, I highly recommend finding an experience where there is no alternative to being in the present.