Far north of the Arctic Circle lies a beautiful, rugged island called Uummannaq - a place of towering mountains, endless sunlight in summer, and deep, mysterious waters. In late May of 1979, when the sun never truly set and kids like us roamed the wild without a care, something happened that would stay with me forever.
Exploring the Mountain
That morning, a bunch of us were out exploring. We first tried to climb the south side of Uummannaq Mountain - one of the oldest mountains in the world - but the rocks kept falling, too dangerous to continue. So we changed plans, deciding instead to explore the west side.
It was a long walk, but with the bright sun overhead and fresh water from the lakes, we didn’t mind. We made our way past the first lake and up toward the “Blue Lake,” a higher, strikingly clear body of water nestled on the mountain's shoulder. From there, we crossed down and made our way toward the back of the mountain, deep into untouched terrain. Time passed quickly. By afternoon, we were still walking, marveling at the icy mountains and Greenland's remote wilderness stretching all the way to the distant horizon - an island 100 kilometers away. We used to joke that Canada lay just beyond that blue edge, and we'd watch jets flying high above us, their contrails like scratches across the sky.
A Shocking Discovery
As we sat down to rest, one of our friends who had wandered off to check for a bird's nest came rushing back - red-faced and breathless. He pointed urgently toward the northwest. We scrambled up about 100 meters - and there it was.
A massive submarine, half-hidden behind an iceberg, silently resting in the deep blue water.
At first, we thought it must be American. After all, who else could it be? But later, we learned the truth: it was a Russian Typhoon-class submarine - one of the largest submarines ever built. Even from a distance, it looked huge - almost unreal against the raw, wild backdrop of our Arctic home.
The Reaction Back Home
We ran back to Uummannaq to tell everyone what we had seen, but few believed us. It was frustrating. Luckily, one of the ships that traveled between Uummannaq and the smaller settlements - the Hvidfisken - spotted it too. They even followed it briefly before it slipped away into the deep fjords.
Questions That Remain
Years later, I found out just how deep the waters are around Uummannaq - perfect for submarines to hide. It was clear: the Russians had been operating in our fjords.
But one question has stayed with me ever since - why did it surface? The waters were busy with hunters and fishermen. This was no isolated spot. Did the submarine have technical problems? Was it waiting for something?
We may never know.
But to a group of young kids on a late May day in 1979, it was an unforgettable brush with the Cold War - right in our own backyard.