Greenland: The Arrival

Arrival

Despite it being midsummer, the air chilled considerably as we approached the arctic circle. It was easier to keep all my layers on without complaint now that the wind blew stiff cold breezes off the pole. Two days after the birthday party I shut off the water valves and winterized the pipes. Izzy was massively unhappy about this until I lured her back into a tractable mood with stories of hot springs.

“Explain to me again why we have come to this very cold, very far away place?” She shivered in her three sweaters, two pairs of pants, a petticoat, and babushka head wrap. 

I rolled my eyes. It was cold yes, but not much below 40℉. She was prone to the dramatic when it came to frosty temperatures.

“You took all my money and all my cargo and gave it away. We need to resupply. I thought you circled ‘passion for travel’ on your college resume.” I tightened the mainsail and walked over to the headsail to check again that Bessie’s patch was holding. So far so good. Izzy had not been a fan of me scaling the mast to repair the head block but she couldn’t justify sending Bessie up there either. 

“There must have been warmer, less out of the way places we could have stopped for supplies.”

“Oh no, no. This place is special. It’s my Lonely Mountain.  Besides, I haven’t been here in a few years and I like to check up on everyone there. Problem is I usually have stuff to leave them. They don’t need ambergris – actually I could pick up some more of that from all the whalers there. We may need to skimp on some of the supplies I bought in St. George’s. Maybe some of Catherine’s things. Your dresses,” I mused. “They don’t need gold. They need things. Huh, maybe you should make a lasagna.”  

I started my Lonely Mountain cache about 2500 years ago.  It had come in handy especially when Zheng and I had begun a rather large trading operation in the crusades. There was a spur of the portal that extended not too far from this area of Greenland. The current tended to move but so far was still accessible if approached from the correct direction. We were close to that spur now and the portal called to me, wanting me to join it. The idea of floating aimlessly, alone, in the portal was entrancing. I could picture it now, just me on the deck under a portal sunrise, not eating endless plates of food, not following anyone's schedule but my own. Sounded like heaven. Below, John Henry let out a squeal followed by Bessie laughing at his antics. I was here now and here I would stay.

My Lonely Mountain was filled with all the extra gold, gems, and precious goods I had taken in profits and, in some cases, retribution. After the Crusades I had continued adding to the stash as I began trading in the Atlantic circuit. Occasionally if my boat became too full during other journeys, I would come unload here. The villagers kept an eye on the place for me and I brought them what supplies I could.

Maui and I had founded the village together. The villagers that lived here now were the descendants of refugees from his war in the Pacific. Together he and I had taken survivors back in time hundreds of years and far away from any danger. It wasn’t a perfect solution but it was all we could do at the time. These people were important to me and I felt no small amount of responsibility towards them. They were Maui’s legacy and I attempted to keep their society thriving in what little ways I could.  

The last night before we anchored in the small inlet by the village, I dug around in the bench under the galley seats. Izzy and the girls were in and out of the small space but they all stopped to look as I pulled up the cushion and revealed a storage compartment filled with notebooks. In a few locations, like Bermuda, I kept canisters of notes, but mostly I notated my journeys in these dollar store spiral bound books. As whatever traveled with me on the ship aged with me, I'd developed the canisters to keep the rotting and yellowing to a minimum in places where I couldn’t risk arriving without clues. Bermuda was one of those places, Heron’s Landing was another. Just outside of the Atlantic portal entrance I had a canister with a phone that included names, dates, current events, etc. that I brushed up on before sailing back home. 

I stacked the notebooks in tall piles on the table. The Greenland notebook was at the bottom of the compartment. I frowned at the condition of the pages, I hadn’t been here in a while. John Henry pulled over a stack and Catherine began cleaning it up.

“What is all this, Captain?” She handed me back the books. Then she stopped John Henry from climbing in the open bench.

“Just notes I leave for myself. People get upset when I arrive and have forgotten things.” I put a notebook down that said ‘St. Christopher’s Academy freshmen year.’ That book was crumbling at the edges. I put it aside and looked at the Greenland book

July 30th, 1002

Ujarak and Sissinnguaq were married.  

More contact with Vikings. I’ve warned them away.

I miss Erikson. Such a good kisser. Damn.

May 4th, 1146

Piloqutinnguaq passed away. The chief was given a send off of fit for a Queen. Her daughter Ulloriaq is now the chief. 

Seven new babies born.  

Some contact made with various Scandinavians.  Maui has warned them not to go near.

They need rope.

September 29th, 1200

Maui is concerned that the climate is changing.  Research shows he is correct.

Tupaarnaq is chief.

The village is proficient at whaling.  

Learn to trade ambergris.

August 30th, 1432

Village is doing fine. Wear your helmet. Wear a mask.

May 22nd, 1495

Keep your helmet on.

They need tools. Hammers, picks, etc.

Not too much new or interesting. This would be a routine stop, drop, and leave situation. We could be back on the water and sailing within three days, at the outside. Any longer and Izzy might find someone else to marry. 

“Will there be many people to talk to and trade with?” Bessie asked.

“Meat would be a nice change from all the fish.” Izzy, of course.

“Perhaps there will be other children for John Henry to play with?” The young mother, always looking out for her son.

“They must have chickens.” Izzy again, again with the food. “I am praying for chickens. Or ducks, or quail or something egg laying.”

“I am longing to get on solid ground again.” Catherine. 

“It would be nice if we can stay for an extended time. Stretch our legs.” Bessie stretched out next to me. She was barely over five feet, what did she have to stretch?

It took a second for all their comments to filter through the notes and plans I was making. “Whoa whoa whoa, everyone. Just hold on. No one is getting off the ship but me. We can maybe do a field trip to the hot springs once my business is done. I can sail us around to them afterwards. We are just here to pick up some replenishment for the hold - non-edibles – and be off. This is a closed society. We aren’t here to play.”

What followed next was a barrage of high pitched noise as I’d never experienced.

“I am not going to be prisoner on your boat again, Anne!” Izzy screeched. “And we need to replenish our stores!”

“We all need fresh air and time on land,” Catherine pled.

“I want to experience new things! Isabelle promised!” Bessie shrieked.

“I did promise!” Izzy backed her protege up.

They went on and on about how long we’d been at sea already. How small my perfect perfect boat was. How they were ready to feel dirt under their feet. Even John Henry took a turn screaming. I put my hands up in defeat.

“You all want to get off this ship, even if it’s just for a day or two? I mean…why? This ship is much nicer than their accommodations.” 

"Are you crazy?! We’ve been at sea for a month! Of course we want to get off!" Izzy practically had steam coming out of her ears. She better watch it or that steam would ruin all the work she'd done with her hot comb. 

“Okay! Wow. I didn’t realize you all wanted to walk around on dirt so badly. Fine. Go round up your corsets and petticoats or whatever. You’ll have your dirt tomorrow morning.” They all cheered and hugged each other and jumped. “There are rules! This isn’t a free for all!” No one was listening. They ran to their cabins and the hold and started pulling out clothing. Apparently Izzy was looking at this as an opportunity to create a whole new fashion aesthetic since no one here would know a corset from a high heel. I realized too late she intended to raid my store of cloth. She’d probably exit the ship looking like Darth Kardashian or something. 

John Henry and I were left alone in the galley. We looked at each other. He grinned. “I suppose you want to play with sand and rocks too?” He kept grinning. I had an outfit to compose as well. I played a role here too and I would need to look more intimidating than usual. 

****

All of us were on deck when I sailed us into sight of the small village at the base of the outcropping I named my Lonely Mountain. It was not an impressive village, mostly stone houses, lots of fire pits and whale bones. The bones were the main source of fuel for fire. The main lodge housed an enormous fire pit and underground pipe-like tunnels funneled the heat into the various houses surrounding it. Whaling was the village’s main industry. The small bay had several large boats out of which poked wicked looking spears. I was dismayed to see the design of the boats reflected a Nordic influence. Clearly the Nordic folks had not paid attention to my repeated warnings. By now the villagers had caught sight of my sails this morning and were gathering on the shore to watch my approach.  

“We aren’t going to be here long,” I addressed the women on my boat. “If you want to go ashore you have to wear a covering over your mouth and nose. Your skin may not touch any of their skin. You may not lie with any of them. This is a closed society. We are here to load my ship with cargo and leave.” I motioned Izzy to follow me down to my cabin where I pulled out my Greenland attire. It was a long fur lined leather tunic, gloves, cloak, and a cloth gator-type mask that covered my nose and draped down over my neck. I grabbed my helmet. The villagers would have spoken to their children about me and this stupid helmet. “I have some extra masks,” I pointed Izzy to a box in the corner, “Can you see that the others put them on correctly before getting off the ship? Also, are you planning on staying aboard or in the hut with me?”

“I feel like we covered this. That whole ‘month at sea’ bit? Besides,” she lowered her voice, “You brought us all the way to Greenland for a reason, right? Obviously I choose land.”

“Fair enough.” I started pulling on the heavy clothing. 

“Anne...a couple of weeks ago we talked about something. I’m not sure if you even remember it, now.”

“Try me.”  I brushed out my hair and rebraided it so that it would fit easier under the helmet.

“We were talking about Ian, and you said that you could find out if–” She paused long enough to grab my attention. She looked guilty, like the time she’d spilled Mom’s nail polish all over the dining room table. The good stuff Mom had spent money on at the salon. “If he would survive the war, and that once we were in Greenland you could check on him?” 

Mom had loved that nail polish. Izzy was crying. Vivienne was yelling. I’d just gotten back from a terrible run in with the portal. My ship needed a new mast. I was suffering a concussion. My solution then was to shut them all up by smashing the plate glass table. I recognize now that that was an overreaction.

“If you really want me to, I can do that.” She wouldn’t ask me to do this if she wasn’t feeling better about how I was doing. The trust felt nice. I’d let her choose an item from my stash today. Actually, if she was open to traveling the portal it could present the perfect opportunity to get her home. “Hey, you know, you are an experienced time traveler now. Why don’t we go together…” I had an odd feeling of deja vu. I shook it off.

“So you can drop me off at Heron’s Landing and sail away forever? No thanks.” She glared. I was shocked. Did she know? How did she know? 

“What? Who told you – no. Never mind. So that’s a no? You wouldn’t want to go with me?”

“Yeah, no. Pass.”

“Had to try. But yeah, I could find out.” The portal did not love to be used for such mundane purposes. If I did this I’d have to – wait. Why would I do this? Just because she asked? Because she wanted to get laid, I was going to pull a power play with a terrifying force? I’d vowed to get her home. Her husband was tying her to this place. Her husband was at war…

The feeling like I’d had these thoughts before itched at my mind. Izzy belonged back home. If a small lie she’d likely never discover or be able to do anything about brought her back to her real life, then it was a lie I’d tell.

“What would that look like? What would you do? What would I do?” It took me a moment to place what she was asking. I shook off the odd leftover thoughts.

“If you don’t want to go, your part is easy. I will leave in the morning. You could probably start watching for my sails by dinner that same evening and I’d have the information for you. Whatever that might be.” The cloak was hot and bulky here in my cabin but I fastened it tight. 

“And on your part?”

“It would be fairly routine for me.” I checked my hair again. It looked neat enough. “I sail into the portal, choose a time a few years in the future, get the information. Then I sail back.”

"I’m not sure if it’s a good idea right now. Who’s going to keep you on schedule?”

“You can think about it. I’m game if you are. It’s not like I haven’t been traveling on my own before. I’ve done this once or twice.” I kissed her cheek and headed into the galley with my helmet.

“Yeah, and that’s clearly always worked out swimmingly for you.” I turned at her sharp tone. I guess she didn’t trust me that much yet. She looked pained for a moment then brightened, “Bessie might be willing to go. She knows how to use the kitchen and she’s been helping me with the scheduling for weeks. And she’s certainly eager to see more of the world.”

“You worry too much. You don’t have to decide now.  I’ve got to get the ship restocked first.” I put my helmet under my arm. “Come on. We have work to do.”

****

We passed my first marker just after dawn: A post sunk deep in the water with my brand emblazoned at the top. The second arrived around noon. The third an hour or two later. I recognized the curve of the coastline and followed it around to the deep cove.

I anchored just beyond the shore and helped the women and the little baby into the row boat. Each of them had a mask on as well as gloves. I wasn’t sure what Izzy had told them but, as she’d said, she was taking care of the souls and I was taking care of the sails – or oars as the case might be at the moment. There had been a tense moment when I arrived on deck in my full regalia and large shining silver helmet. I’m sure I looked rather otherworldly. The moment had broken when the baby hit me over the head with a rattle and I’d said, “Ow.” The sound inside the helmet had reverberated and hurt my ears. 

As we rowed ashore I explained what was about to happen. We would be met by the village elder. Say nothing. Do nothing. We will be escorted with sledges to the hoard where you will all stand back and I will load.  No words are allowed to be spoken. Stay silent. Once the sledges are filled and loaded onto the boat I will bring out our cargo and we will have a feast.  

Now we were headed to shore where it appeared the entire population had turned out to greet us. Everyone turned out in their finest clothing. I instructed the others to stand where I placed them and walked in my cloak and helmet to the village elder by the community fire.

It was a silent ceremony. Languages changed too much and too fast in these small communities so I’d taught them signs to use with me, specifically American Sign Language and First Nation Sign Language. These were preliterate societies and the signs were just easier to teach generation through generation. The village elder met me at the outside fire and we exchanged greetings. Just as I’d told the others, the sledges were brought and we were escorted in a long reverent line to the mountain. 

Catherine holding her son, Bessie right next to her, and Izzy a step behind me and to the right, all followed me along the path. The path led a quarter mile away from the village and out of sight of the shore. There was no stone blocking the entrance. Simply getting here was impediment enough. The items stored below were of little practical value to the villagers and they were too fearful of me to steal. Over the years there had been a few braggards who had tried and then nearly shit themselves when I sailed back into town. All that marked the entrance to the space was a small carving of my brand into the rock at shoulder height.

Two torch bearers, a man and a woman, led the way into the cave. I followed behind them. My passengers behind me. The retinue of villager and their sledges behind them and down we went into the caves. The baby cooed and his echos brought some laughter from the mothers of the village in line behind us. The mountain passage opened up into an enormous underground grotto. The appointed torch bearers split either side of the deep, still lake. They lit the torches, illuminating the cavernous space. Columns of stalagmites and stalactites littered the area surrounding the lake. Those who were new to the grotto gasped as they craned around me to see. The torch bearers returned to me, bowed, and took their place on either side of the opening. 

The accumulation of my years of wealth was stacked around the place. It was easily a millennia’s worth of goods. The excesses of my travels came here when I needed to store it safely away. I had a loose cataloging system: artworks up through the 1970s, tools and materials, precious metals and gems, sentimental stuff, natural history commodities destined for auction houses, asian pottery, and so on and so on. As always there was a miscellaneous junk drawer corner too. One can never seem to organize everything away. This grotto brought back memories and emotions I’d completely forgotten. Much of this predated the stake, predated Graham, even predated my beloved ship. There were items stashed here that could make me billions, including a small Norse ship in excellent condition. Many of the items here, especially the paintings, were preserved in modern air tight containers. 

In modern times, my foundations were well known for their acquisition capabilities. Before graduating high school I’d been a guest of honor at more museum galas than I could count. I recycled one of those dresses for a prom or two that Izzy dragged me too. Those gowns had cost more than the budget for the whole dance and the after party. I even had an apartment downtown where I kept all my fancy gowns and business suits. That was the address my personal assistant used and where I stayed when I wasn’t at Heron’s Landing pretending to be a teenager or high school burn out.

Okay. Time to get to work. Izzy had cleaned me out in Bermuda. I started with the porcelain; I had really liked those dishes and hoped Angelica was finding them as beautiful as I had. I raised my hand for the strong village youths to follow me. The young men and women approached and I led them around pointing at various crates, trunks, boxes, casks, chests, and stacks of wealth. It was all loaded onto sledges and brought back up the path. The villagers would load it onto boats at the shore and wait for me to lead them out to the Try Your Luck. 

I debated including several old master paintings, or pop art creations, or impressionists. When I brought Izzy back to the 21st I could auction them there. Her ring glinted in the torch light. Best conserve space till I knew I had a return date for her. I put the paintings back.

Catherine, Izzy, and Bessie wandered around as I conducted business. If any of them touched something or looked at an item in particular I indicated it to a villager and had it brought along. They deserved a present. Izzy lingered near a bow and quiver. These items were old but strong. I was happy to gift them to her. She’d been working hard. Catherine chose a gold necklace with an embedded ruby that had been here since one of my first deposits. If I remembered correctly it was from the 1920s, a gift from a moonshiner. Elizabeth lingered near the artwork. Her gaze was captivated by a beautiful polished Egyptian bust. Only half the face remained but it was intriguing enough that I’d kept it safe in here. I let her take the piece along with a dagger that needed love and sharpening.

Once I’d chosen enough to restock and fund the next portion of our journey (and beyond) I dipped each lit torch into the spring. Eventually I was the only one left in darkness. I said a silent goodbye to my memories here and went to finish out the procession. The next step was to ferry all the wealth to my ship and stow it. Every small boat in the village was used and I led the way on my rowboat. I lowered the swimming platform and a handpicked villager presented by the elder was allowed to stand on the platform and hand me up each item.

Then it was my turn to give. I handed down bolts of cotton, sacks of grain, crates of tools, rope, salt, spices, and a good portion of the remainder of sugar. These were mainly packages of items I’d picked up in St. Georges. What I also gave were specialty items that Catherine had ransacked from the Commander’s house, a few of Izzy’s gowns with their yards and yards of usable fabric, and any loaves of bread that looked fresh. It wasn’t the boon I usually liked to bring them but it would do. 

The last box I brought out was one I carried myself. It was mostly filled with antibiotics, steroid creams, antibacterial gels, fever reducers, and pain relievers. I climbed down to the platform and put my forehead to the chosen villager. She would be highly prized and well treated due to this small gesture of mine. Maui and I had had many crises of consciousness over these roles we’d stumbled into here. As there was little harm in imparting luck and encouragement and well wishes for a good future, we decided not to struggle and tip off the pedestals we sat atop here. The young woman beamed and boarded her own row boat as I boarded mine and we rowed to shore together. 

The whole village walked with me to my hut. Smoke was already pouring from the chimney structure and I was anxious to get inside. All the pomp and circumstance wore me down. I signaled my thanks to the village and entered the hut. My job was now to stay out of the way until the feast day began in the morning. Izzy, Catherine, Bessie, and John Henry were already inside the small structure. The sideboard by the fire was loaded with food and my mouth watered at the smell of slow roasted musk ox. I dumped my helmet on my bed and went straight over to it. 

“Thank god. I’m sick of fish.” I loved this dish. I forked some out and ate it straight from the pot. So good. I loved this. 

"Weren't you the one who was all 'don't use my precious spices, Izzy, we can just live on unseasoned fish and rice for the next month'?" Izzy grumbled. I chuckled and ate another forkful.

God it was perfect and it was hot and it was not fish. I loaded a platter with it, some greens, roots, and whatever else was here. 

“You all eat yet?” I looked up and finally took in the expressions of the women. They were sitting in a row on what used to be Maui’s bed. A cradle had been placed in the corner along with two other sleeping pallets. “What? Do I have a mark on my face? Damn heavy helmet can leave creases.” I stretched my neck. John Henry toddled over to me and I picked him up and offered him some fresh berries. 

“Oh no, your majesty.” I looked over at Lady Covington and rolled my eyes. Your majesty? She had some shit eating grin on her face. “We weren’t sure if we were allowed to eat before you or if you’d have our hands or something.”

“Shut up.” I smirked right back. 

“We’ve been given food, Captain.” Bessie's ‘captain’ sounded like it had a question mark behind it again. I shifted John Henry to my other hip.

“That was quite the ceremony, Lady Anne.” Did Catherine just…bow? They were being ridiculous. More ridiculous than before. I let John Henry down and Izzy caught him before he wandered too close to the fire.

“Lady Anne indeed. Mom would be so proud.” Izzy pretended to wipe a mock tear from her eye and handed the baby off to his mother so she could pick up her cup. “This place is...I don’t really have words. Luckily, they’ve supplied us with intoxicants. This is some kind of- I’m not really sure what it is. Fermented milk, ‘sweetened’ with some kind of roots or something is my best guess. It gets better the more you drink.” 

“Careful with that. Knocked Maui flat on his ass first night he had it. Couldn’t get it up for –” I stopped laughing at the memory of Maui leaning against this very wall crying, Heeny! It won’t go up! Heeny, oh god. It’s just laying there like an old bored housewife! What if I’m dying?! Then falling flat on his dumb face, passed out. His ex-lover who was still in the throes of newlywed bliss didn’t need to know this story. God, I loved him. God, I hated him so much. “Just be careful. That drink comes at you harder after the fourth cup.” No part of Maui had gotten up for the better part of a week after that drink. It was one of our longer stays here.

“Maui? He never really liked to drink.”

“No. He didn’t. Not there at the end.” This stuff is killing them – us. I won’t be a part of it anymore. It belongs to the west. Let it kill them in the west. I hated him…no, I loved him. “There was a time he could put it away though. God he would get so trashed.”

“The end. Right.” She retreated into her cup.

Shit. I forgot how I wasn’t allowed to talk about him around her. There weren’t many  times in Izzy’s life I hadn’t been witness to except for the months after telling her that Maui had died. She hadn’t just retreated from me, she’d run. “Yeah…sorry. Won’t bring him up again. This place is just full of his memories for me.”

“I can imagine,” she told the contents of her cup.

Read the room, Anne. She doesn’t want to talk about him. “Well!” I tried to brighten my words and skip over the moment,  “Eat up if you are hungry. Sleep if you aren’t. Don’t be fooled by the sun, it’s getting close to midnight. Tomorrow is a long day for me. You all can just enjoy. We probably can’t leave tomorrow but the morning after we can be on our way to…to wherever you like.” I finished my plate off…then a second…then most of the third. I ignored the way Izzy side eyed my portions. I was just hungrier on land.

I hung my cloak and other heavy clothing on some hooks and put my helmet on the little table by my bed. I gleefully wrapped the blankets and furs around me and passed out with a full belly and no threat of sinking into the ocean’s deeps.