We sledge down frozen Ikaasatsivaq Strait close to Ammassalik Fjord’s open waters, cut a 13 cm-deep hole in the ice and drop our 600m line, baited with capelin. Then we stake down our tents (with care not to break through!) and overturn the sledge to barricade against the piteraq we thought had blown itself out. Sooner than later, we haul in the line that’s hooked nothing but skates. Unhooked, they hover, flap their wings and fly away with the current that Max says is moving in the wrong direction. That night the piteraq rises and rattles our tents. But more terrifying is the sea that pitches and sways under my sleeping bag.