Arctic Trek Leaves Prince Cold to Royal Life

He survived weeks in total darkness, days as cold as 53 below, the isolation and deprivation of six months above the Arctic Circle, and the ultimate indignity of a visit from Mom and Dad bearing cakes and comfort.

But what Crown Prince Frederik of Denmark faces upon returning home from his dog-sledding adventure in northern Greenland may prove a trial beyond his now-proven mettle: the expectations of the Danish citizenry that he will settle down and prepare himself to become king.

Rather than capitulating to the routine of royal life in Copenhagen, however, the 32-year-old heir to the Amalienborg Palace plans a trip to Australia for the Summer Olympics and a fresh stint in the Danish military.

“It’s going to feel very strange to be back in Copenhagen,” Frederik acknowledged as he and his five companions on the Arctic journey packed their gear for the flight home Wednesday. “I haven’t decided yet how long I will stay there.”

The one thing he knows for sure is that his next undertaking, after his visit to Australia, will be a return to the armed forces, this time with the Danish air force, to earn a pilot’s license to add to his navy credentials.

“I’m not thinking about ‘Top Gun’ fighter pilots or anything like that, just small planes, single engines,” Frederik said in an interview here with The Times in which he sought to dispel the image of an itinerant adventurer that he has acquired in his homeland.

Danes Want to See Frederik Settle Down

Danish media have long speculated openly about when the bachelor prince, the most popular man in the country, will marry and produce an heir. Although most Danes admire Frederik’s exploits, such as his 1986 trek through Mongolia, they also tell researchers and pollsters that they would like to see their future king settle down.

Frederik admits, however, that the fraternity of his recent journey was a life-altering experience that may have further whetted his appetite.

“I’ve always been drawn to the outdoors and physical challenges,” he said. “My military training helped me in this. It wasn’t so difficult to make the adjustment from sea to ice.”

The crown prince and his five partners on the Sirius 2000 expedition--as the nearly four-month, 1,746-mile Arctic adventure that skirted the top of Greenland was known--say they set out with a mission to commemorate 50 years of military patrols in the vast territory. But the experience also engendered newfound respect in Frederik and the others for the breathtaking landscape of Greenland and the endangered lifestyle of its indigenous Inuit people.

Before setting off on their journey from Qaanaaq, a town of 650 people caught in the social tug of war between modern development and tradition, Frederik and his companions bought 42 huskies here in August, trained with local hunters and built three two-man sledges.

They spent two weeks training in total darkness on Qaanaaq’s icebound harbor in December and embarked Feb. 11 in the company of half a dozen local hunters, who stayed with the team for the first three days of the 110-day adventure.

“That was what moved me the most--the way the local people stayed with us and made sure we were able to make our own way,” Frederik recalled.

He and his companions also were impressed by the ease and confidence of the Inuit hunters, who spend their lives on the iceberg-studded frozen seas in search of seals, walruses, whales and fish.

“We planned for three months and organized every detail before we set off. But the local hunters just threw some coffee and sugar onto their sleds and took off with us,” said Michael Bank, one of the Sirius 2000 team’s four veterans of Danish military patrols of Greenland.

“They don’t worry about provisions--they know they will catch something to eat,” Bank added. “We can’t operate like that, but it’s refreshing to see how naturally they approach it.”

The first weeks of the expedition brought the worst hardships because a dusky light relieves the polar darkness for only about three hours a day in February. Bitter cold, howling winds and the need to let the dogs rest forced the team to hunker down for 29 days, said Steen Broen Jensen, another military patrol veteran.

Occasional disputes about where they were and how they should proceed amid the glaciers and icebound water usually were decided by the imprecise tie-breaking test of rock-paper-scissors, patrol veteran Soeren Bredvig Nielsen said, miming the children’s game.

When the expedition was just beyond the northern extreme of its route April 3, the six men got a surprise two-hour visit from Frederik’s parents, Queen Margrethe II and Prince Henrik, who touched down in a Twin Otter propeller plane to bring coffee and almond cakes.

Frederik admitted that it was embarrassing to be treated to such royal relief in the depths of Greenlandic wilderness, but he explained that the queen’s fascination with the Danish protectorate and with his adventure in the Arctic made it impossible to exclude her.

“I’m sure she would have come on the trip herself if she were a little younger,” the prince said of his mother, the reigning Danish monarch who turned 60 during his absence.

Enjoying Camaraderie of the Commoners

Of the 42 dogs the team began with, members returned 24 to Qaanaaq in a ceremony Wednesday. Four were injured and had to be shot during the journey, six were put down at the end of the mission because they were too old to endure another season, and the remaining eight were given to the military patrol for its annual trek over Greenland.

The boredom of camp chores and confinement was broken by card games and boarding-school rituals of reward and punishment for winners and losers. Despite his status as crown prince, Frederik was forced to serve coffee to his common countrymen and address them in the formal style of dialogue to compensate for his frequent losses.

On the more serious side, team photographer Torben Forsberg captured the daily routine and dramatic backdrop in 120 hours of film footage that will be edited for a five-part documentary on Danish television starting in December, said Victoria Film producer Jeppe Handwerk. A one-hour version is being prepared for international marketing.

“We started out thinking this was a story about the Sirius patrol but realized en route that it was more important to present the incredible impressions of nature in Greenland,” said Forsberg, who, like Frederik, was a novice on the expedition.

The crown prince had hoped to come home with a polar bear skin as a trophy, he said, but his only encounters with the Arctic behemoths were at such a distance that he couldn’t warrant drawing a weapon in self-defense. That is the only legal justification for firing on big game in the vast national park that encompasses most of northern and eastern Greenland.

Frederik said the huge island’s natural beauty defies description, but his time above the Arctic Circle impressed on him the importance of preserving traditions of the Inuits. They make up 1% of Denmark’s population of 5.4 million but live in an area 50 times the size of its European territory.

“I can’t put into words what I have experienced,” said the crown prince. “But this is a journey I will carry with me forever in my heart.”

(BEGIN TEXT OF INFOBOX / INFOGRAPHIC)

Journey’s End

Danish Crown Prince Frederik, 32, has completed a nearly four-month, 1,746-mile expedition along Greenland’s coast. He and five companions left Qaanaaq on the western coast of the island and ended their journey at Daneborg.