Our hosts were a Danish-Greenlandic couple, Anders and Ellen, who have lived aboard the Kisaq for decades. They sail up and down the west coast of Greenland, with the occasional jaunt down the Eastern Seaboard into the Carribean. Anders is a tall, quiet, and resolute Danish man, who seemed most talkative at breakfast . His silence and proclivity to morning instilled confidence in me—these seem to be fitting traits for a maritime man. Ellen, on the other hand, was a bit more lively, a dry Greenlandic woman, a mother and a grandmother, a wonderful cook, and the obvious master of the ship’s domain. Throughout the weekend we enjoyed her delicious homemade bread, cream-based seafood soups, and perfect pot roasts, all complimented with healthy doses of boiled potatoes . I asked her the first night who the worst guest was that the Kisaq had ever hosted and she immediately told me it was a group of heli skiers who brought along their own “master chef” for the trip. It was obvious that being relegated to sous-chef in her own kitchen would be Ellen’s worst nightmare. I liked Ellen, though—she seemed to be a woman who has her priorities straight. When we sent a chair clattering down a stairwell during a rousing game of spoons one night around midnight, she barely batted an eyelash; on the other hand, when I tracked about a tablespoon's worth of snow into the main living area, she gave me a thorough reprimand. I guess when you live on a boat, you care about the things that really matter—like dry socks.