Ready For An Ice Age Adventure? Greenland Eider Hunting Awaits

11.03.2024 - 17:45 / forbes.com

Somewhere between Iceland and the fictitious kingdom of Westeros sits the land that time forgot. On a map it’s called Greenland (aka the world’s largest island), model habitat for the Game of Thrones’ White Walkers. Arrive here in early March and green is the last color that comes to mind, however, for the landscape palette is decidedly white, save for a few gray rocks that nose their way out of the ermine blanket of snow. It’s a land where ancient muskox still roam as they have for 60,000 years, undoubtedly waiting for the next great extinction to see what new cast of characters will emerge.

The question is, why would anyone visit this polar bear playground when temperatures seldom climb above single digits? For people who roam the planet with shotguns looking to hunt the world’s most captivating waterfowl, Greenland is one of the few places where you’ll find the most coveted sea duck on Earth—the king eider. It’s the size of a small goose with a distinctive orange knob above its bill. A slate blue cap, turquoise cheeks, and patches of white with black eyeliner give it an airbrushed paint job that looks a bit overdone. It is, nonetheless, striking if you have an affinity for gaudy.

While Saint Paul Island in Alaska’s Bering Sea has long been the lone sure bet to find kings, Greenland has emerged as another destination where vagabond hunters can consistently find the grand birds. When a Ducks Unlimited friend turned me on to the destination a couple of years ago, a journey here had the dual attraction of hunting a bird I’ve long coveted in a place I had never been.

It wasn’t hard to talk a few friends into sharing the adventure. Terry Graunke, a successful venture capitalist and conservation philanthropist; Charlie Potter, a wildlife foundation chief; and Steve Farris, a recovering rock guitarist combined to form our band of eider hunters—all drawn by the allure of the amazing kings and the savage place they call home.

I left spring in South Carolina, flew to late winter in Chicago where we rendezvoused and then landed in the dead of winter in Nuuk, Greenland, population 20,000. The community is home to roughly a third of the nation’s entire head count. It’s a last outpost before heading into a rocky, frozen wilderness that has changed little since woolly mammoths roamed the island.

The trip was organized by Dan Bolek, a man who has long pioneered some of the world’s great waterfowling venues and who spends the off-season bringing his clients’ harvested birds back to life as a taxidermist. It’s always easier to trust an outfitter-taxidermist who has a vested interest in your success.

Any journey here for kings begins at the Nuuk harbor where Erik Palo and his ABC Charter service is waiting with a