There was no hiding the enthusiasm of our underwater pilot, Merel, as we descended into the mysterious depths of the fjord in a plume of bubbles.
"These are some of the richest waters in the world, with lots of light and nutrients," she exclaimed. "It's a living landscape and no one has ever dived here before!"
I stared transfixed across the bright aquamarine expanse at the underwater world as it unfolded before us
As our seven-person vessel floated gently toward the silt bottom of the fjord, a lion's mane jellyfish pulsed past us, all billowing bubbles and swaying tentacles, while small Arctic cod eyed us warily, and soft corals floated on the ocean currents.
And then, suddenly, in the middle of it all, there was a small shard of bone, decorated with a uniform line of tiny holes. This brought Merel into rhapsodies. She eagerly pondered its origins before calling it a possible Viking relic; an unexpected conclusion to our underwater exploration of the Hvalsey Fjord, one of the networks of intricate waterways carved into Greenland's southern flank.
We slowly rose to the surface - the waters parted Biblically as we emerged into daylight - and were then transferred from the electric submersible back onto an inflatable Zodiac boat and sailed back to our ship, Seabourn Venture.
It was all seamless - but since my twenty-year-old daughter Holly and I had boarded the ship a week earlier, everything had been seamless; from the service and excursions to the hastily assembled Zodiacs, which brought us closer to the action when a young male polar bear appeared on the shore.
We boarded the 264-passenger ship - one of a new generation of luxury expedition ships - in the Icelandic capital Reykjavik and then sailed north into the Arctic Circle en route to Scoresby Sound, high on Greenland's largely unpopulated and undiscovered east coast.
The towering cliffs, separated by icy tongues of glaciers and vast winding waterways, large parts of which remain unmapped, stretch for thousands of kilometers making this the largest fjord system in the world, dwarfing its better-known Norwegian counterparts stilt.
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This is not surprising when you consider the vastness of Greenland, the world's largest island, with an area of 836,000 square kilometers - nine times the size of Britain - although around 80 percent of the landmass is covered by its ice sheet.
But with a population of less than 57,000, this Danish territory is also the least populated region in the world.
Bordering Scoresby Sound, the Northeast Greenland National Park is the world's most extensive, spanning an area almost as large as France and Spain combined, and with no permanent human settlements.
We enjoyed these few days exploring the fjords which are covered in sea ice for much of the year, making them impassable - although milder summer temperatures provide a fleeting respite, allowing ships like ours to gently navigate this frozen inner sanctum can sneak in.
When we arrived in mid-August, heavier ice floes than normal made the Seabourn Venture the first ship of the year to enter the fjords. The dramatic beauty of this stark landscape is completely at odds with the chic interior of our floating home. Every day we were greeted by a panorama of jagged icebergs, framed by the curved floor-to-ceiling bay windows of our penthouse suite; and in the evening, Holly and I crawled into The Club Lounge for dinner to eat delicious freshly made sushi, topped off with a glass or two of crisp Galician albarino, while admiring the sienna-tinted sunsets that bathed the fjords in a golden color. glow.
As we sailed south past the mountains of Prince Christian Sound, which separates the mainland from the islands of the Cape Farewell Archipelago on the southern tip of Greenland, the focus of our cruise changed from the wilderness and wildlife of the east coast - with its passing pods of killer whales and colossal fin whales - to the culture of the communities on the more populated west side.
We stopped at small settlements tucked into the steep coastline, full of the customs and history of Inuit tribes who have survived for centuries in this unforgiving environment, where locals welcomed us with heartwarming choral performances in rustic wooden churches and greeted us with "kaffemik" - a friendly gathering over coffee - and home-baked cake in their community centres.
The complete contrast between their lives and ours was as fascinating as it was inescapable, but in the small settlement of Aappilattoq (population 70) we were astonished to discover that one of the local men had visited Britain for a month to improve his English . , while staying in Exeter - where Holly had graduated a few weeks earlier.
Who would have thought that? It was another welcome surprise, among many on this trip, although one of the most memorable came as we sat in our suite one afternoon enjoying a breather after another morning of natural wonders.
A gigantic iceberg was floating quietly by when, without warning, a huge wall along its side suddenly collapsed, sending hundreds of tons of ice crashing into the sea and creating a mini-tsunami that rolled toward our ship, gently rocking it back and forth. We ran to our window and watched in awe. Apparently Greenland's natural spectacles have no breaks.
Essentials
Sara Macefield was a guest of Seabourn (0843 373 2000; seabourn.com) which is offering an 11-day cruise to the fjords of East Greenland on Seabourn Venture from £6,299pp in a veranda suite or £11,999pp for a panoramic penthouse suite , including meals, drinks, tips and most excursions. The return flight from Reykjavik departs on August 5, 2024 and includes Scoresby Sound plus Umivik Bay and Skjoldungen Fjord in Greenland, and Heimaey and the Westman Islands in Iceland.
