In the port of Ilulissat, sailors leave and land between the ice every day. We met two of them. They tell us what they like about their profession and the difficulties they face.

We’re ahead of schedule at the rendezvous point, near the gas station at the corner of Ilulissat harbor. The pump, which almost continuously fills half-empty tanks, is backed by a red gatehouse with barred windows, from which the fishermen come and go. Here they pay their bills, and can buy ammunition, coffee, a shovel and all kinds of plastic-wrapped kits. We’ve been hanging around for ten days now, and our presence no longer disturbs the conversations taking place around the nearest bench. Pele Blytmann is seated, cap on head and freckles on face, waiting for Joel Hansen, an English-speaking colleague. Gulls, as usual, flutter around the boats and crates of freshly landed fish. Eleven o’clock, he arrives.

Pele Blytmann has been fishing since he was a child, and since the age of 16 has turned this vocation into a profession. “I don’t have much more to tell since I’ve always been a fisherman,” he says with tender irony. He’s got his hands in his pockets, a little sneer forming at the corner of his cheek every time he thinks, and the quiet certainty of men who’ve never had to look for themselves.

He learned his trade through his eyes, watching the fishermen of his childhood in the harbor. Then by hand, as soon as he could get out to sea with an old hand: baiting, setting the nets… one trick after another. Since moving to Ilulissat at the age of 16, he now only fishes by boat. Before that, he used to travel the pack ice by dog sled from Ilimanaq, to fish by digging a hole in the ice.

In the 80s, he worked on a shrimp trawler, then in 1996, his wife asked him to choose between the sea and his family. He chose the family, but goes out to sea every day on his 5-6 meter boat, named after his patronymic: Blytmann. A 300-horsepower engine keeps him going, whatever happens. “I never repair it myself, and leave it to a mechanic to make sure it stays reliable,” he explains earnestly, adding that he has no damage stories to tell. He usually goes out on his own, but if he needs help, he can ask a nephew, Liam, to accompany him.

Sailing with Liberty

Fishing every day of the year is not a problem; in fact, it’s what allows him to feel free: no office hours and a reliance on the weather. He takes the dangers of the sea very seriously: “I watch the forecasts to find out when the ice will close the fjord.” He knows Disko Bay very well, its currents, the behavior of the ice and the animals he’s looking for. He prefers long-lining, but during the few winter months, he takes out the nets.

Although the local fish, halibut, is the historical fish, cod has been making its way up the bay for the past ten years. For the past five years, they have been fished and marketed. Their arrival corresponds to warmer waters and the opening of the bay to shipping almost year-round. Climate change can be seen as an opportunity for some fishermen, who can now work almost all year round. But it does not favor those accustomed to working with sledges, dogs and snowmobiles, since ice is becoming increasingly scarce.

Pele Blytmann is the first elected member of a fishermen’s association, always ready to help his members. He makes himself available to watch over this profession and its practitioners, and that’s why he was appointed.

Joel Hansen has been fishing since 2009. He changed jobs and left the mainland, leaving behind wood shavings and carpentry. He moved up from southern Greenland to Ilulissat, where he stalks fish like others would stalk redemption. Like Pele Blytmann, he feels free at work. “When I was a carpenter, I worked ten hours a day. Now, sometimes we go out to sea for three days, but that’s freedom,” he explains, sitting firmly on his two legs.

The price to pay is to live with danger lurking. He remembers once being stuck in the ice and taking 18 hours to land in port, even though he wasn’t very far away. Among fishermen, it’s common for an engine to stop working or for water to leak into a hull, but the solidarity of seafarers is no myth. To the sea, and to one’s peers. “When we have a problem, we ask for help, and we stick together no matter what,” he explains.

Halibut is the fish he prefers to catch, not only for its value, but also for the trail game it imposes. Although he has a few dogs, he has no time for sledding. Together with five other fishermen, including Pele Blytmann, he is also in charge of the EABB association, based in a shack on the harbor opposite the Halibut and Royal Greenland factories, where they sell their fish. C.L

Ilulissat: feeder port

Ilulissat is a fishing stronghold. The town’s geographical location makes it easy to get out to sea, so a wave of new residents has moved in, and is not yet on the list of residents.

One of the special features of the Ilulissat region is the Sikuiuitsoq fjord. It remains frozen year-round, because there are no calving glaciers at the bottom, and the Icefjord current protects it at the mouth. “The halibut here are of exceptional quality,” Bendt Kristiansen, head of economic development for the Avannaata district, tells polarjournal.net. Copepods are particularly abundant here, thanks in part to the icebergs. Fishermen have therefore set up huts near the iceberg, and reach the fishing points from Ilulissat by snowmobile and dog sled. This corner of the pack ice is still spared by climate change, but snow becomes increasingly scarce in April, limiting access by dog sled.

Opposite Ilulissat, ice is increasingly rare. “Boat trips are more and more frequent, and the catches are no less numerous,” explains Bendt Kristiansen. There is even a positive effect felt by the profession, because revenues are more stable over the year. On the other hand, a negative effect noted by managers concerns winter storms, which can, in some years, block all activity for several weeks.

The town council is not responsible for setting fishing quotas. It does, however, work with fishermen to issue longline and net fishing licenses. Halibut, cod, narwhal: there is a defined number of catches per region, such as Thule, further north, or Disko Bay and Uummannaq Fjord. This year, a new law regulates fishing for boats under 6 meters, which are gradually being included in the quota system. To receive a license, you must have fished for at least 5 years and deliver your fish to the city’s factories.