"It was difficult because friends and family couldn't come and see us, it was isolating."
"Greenland belongs to Greenlanders. So, Trump can visit but that's it."The waters are flat calm as we pull into the isolated settlement of Kapisillit - population about 40 - where a few hunters are setting out to shoot seals.
It's -16C (3F), and with wind chill effect feels more like -27C.But near the harbour I meet a local church elder, Kaaleeraq Ringsted, 73, a great-grandfather, who is out drying fillets of cod caught in the fish-rich waters beside his front door.When I ask about President-elect Trump buying or invading Greenland, he chuckles at first. Then his tone becomes serious.
"It is not acceptable that he says this. Greenland is not for sale."Then he tells me how he learned to fish and hunt here with his father and grandfather, and how he wants to preserve this life for his children and grandchildren.
Crossing the bay, the boat nosed through the broken surface ice. Two eagles perched on a rock, scanning for fish in the clear waters.
We were heading to the farm of Angutimmarik Hansen who keeps sheep as well as hunting seals, wildfowl and rabbits.Francesca gave birth to Marley through IVF in October 2020, but the mother-of-two admitted it was a "worrying time" to be pregnant.
"We knew there was Covid in other countries but we didn't know it would equate to what it did here," she said."If you got poorly, it was hard to think what was going to happen to the baby, what was going to happen to you, I tried not to go out at all.
"Even after we had the babies we couldn't go to any pregnancy classes, it was hard."Despite these challenges, the friendship between Leo and Marley made the initial struggles worthwhile, the mothers said.