The grand fjord of Seno Iceberg was free of eponymous white bricks until we reached the head. There we turned the engine off and sat in awed silence, barely 200 metres from the towering face of this huge glacier. After some days of bleak weather it was calm almost warm, with measurable visibilty. What a privilege to be here. I took to the dinghy for photos but scrambled back on board as a small house fell off the ice wall and crashed into the bay. Despite thunderclaps and grumbles the glacier is not in heat. At least, it isn’t calving much. Again, I suppose it is too early in the season. Mosses and lichens drape the moraine boulders on each side of the glacier and in the afternoon light the visual effect is quite stunning.
There’s nothing humdrum about glaciers, I say. They make extraordinary noises and they’re too big, mysterious and blue to be boring. Like whales and depression, they make you feel small and a bit tearful.