This winter we took our second trip to eastern Greenland to go ice diving with Northern Explorers. We were based in Tasiilaq; when you looked out across the fjord, it was totally frozen — perfect virgin snow as far as the eye could see, except for a few snowmobile tracks and footprints. Instead of a boat, we took a snowmobile to the dive sites.

Diving in the ice is different because it’s a real team effort. Everybody has to help carry the procession of bags and gear. From the edge of the fjord, it was about a 20-minute walk to the trapped iceberg where we dived. But you could get sweaty walking out there if you didn’t pace yourself, so snowmobile was the way to go. It’s surprisingly similar to riding on the back of a motorcycle — except with a very noticeable draft of cold air, of course. And you don’t bank into the turns. It took us two or three trips on the snowmobiles, with sleds on the back, to get all of the gear out. Then we’d set up everything on a tarp on the snow and prepare to dive. We used Inuit tools — long wooden poles with metal chisels on the end — to cut holes in the ice, and we’d all take turns chipping away. When it’s time to go in, it’s a strange transition.

You sit on the edge of the ice, put your fins on, and dangle there. Then you drop. You need to get in and under pretty quickly to minimize freezing on your regulator. First you pass through an area where you see nothing but ice, then a blurry layer where fresh water mixes with salt water — a halocline. Then it opens up to 150-plus feet of visibility, with white and blue ice and all different textures. It’s a completely different world, and the enormity of the iceberg makes you realize how insignificant you are. And after the day’s diving is done, it’s back on the snowmobiles for the quick ride to town.