Floe State?

The mood on the Sea Adventurer’s bridge was grim. “She’s only making eight knots,” said our expedition leader. “We need to hit at least fourteen to keep to our itinerary.” We were four days into a two-week sailing and anchored off Ilulissat, near a UNESCO World Heritage site nestled into the crenellated western coast of Greenland.

Earlier that day, I had found myself at the helm of a Zodiac, manoeuvring the rubberized craft through thick fog, near-freezing water, and growlers. The ten high-paying passengers under my care likely had no idea that this was my first trip with the tour operator or my first time north of the Arctic Circle.

“Can you handle an outboard?” my new employer had asked me. I assured him that I could. Five minutes later, I was the captain of my own tiny craft, puttering alongside icebergs the size of city blocks, keeping a weather eye out for bowheads and listening carefully for the groaning cacophony of a calving event. You...