“If we have to take the doors off and the seats out, we will get this car into the air,” boasts Peter, our Air Greenland helicopter pilot. His confidence is bold, brazen even. He is made of the right stuff.

Twice, his bright red Bell “Huey” 212 has failed to lift a combined ton of Formula E electric racing car and its aluminum tray off the ground at Kulusuk (once damaging the rear wing in the lifting cable), let alone fly it the 40 miles to where it is due to drive on the Greenland ice cap.

A world first drive is at risk. So Peter decides to jettison his jockey-sized engineer (putting him in a second helicopter) and a few loose bits from the aircraft; a seventy kilo saving.

Already on the ice is the driver whose car is slung under the Huey, Brazilian Lucas di Grassi. He and Formula E’s founder and CEO Alejandro Agag have been pacing the ice for two hours as news of the gravitational challenges have fed back by satellite phone.

“Just getting to the ice cap is a challenge. If it was easy, then everyone would have done this,” Agag states. A man with a rifle stands nearby; this is polar bear country. Local villages have bear alarms and most adventurers exploring the ice cap do so with Greenland dog-teams, whose sense of danger is acute.

Back in Kulusuk, where the Formula E car has been charged overnight on an aircraft hangar, Peter fires up the legendary Huey once again. Its trademark carpet-beater thwack-thwack rotors drum against the cool summer air and the lines connecting chopper to car tense up. Not half as tense as everyone watching, willing the Formula E to fly.

“Oscar Charlie Yankee,” Peter announces over the radio. “Good to go.” Dangling beneath the Huey, the electric racer is airborne. Except the response from the Kulusuk control tower is not so positive. “Charlie Yankee, something seems to have fallen from the car.”

Peter acknowledges but decides to plough on. The car is on its way, yet no one knows for sure that it will work if, and when, it arrives on the world’s second largest ice cap. Only Antarctica’s is bigger.

The ice cap is within one mile’s maximum range of the Huey and its record-breaking load. To reach the ice, a fuel pit stop has been set up in an abandoned fishing village perched on three rocks in the angry Atlantic; one rock for the car, one for the Bell 212 and one for the support chopper. It makes the Saharan logistics of the infamous Dakar rally seem positively suburban.

The only noise on the ice cap is a stiff breeze and the gurgle of meltwater. In two hours, as the summer sun warms up, a trickle has turned into a steam. Under the crunchy crust of the ice desert echoes the thunder of an underground river.

A few miles away, on the Atlantic, huge irregular chunks of iceberg float south towards an inevitable melt. Many have broken off the ice cap. Up to 300 billion tons of the ice cap is melting every year. According to one calculation, that is around 200 x 200 x 200 miles of frozen water.

Formula E have chosen to try and drive on the ice cap to draw attention to global warming and as no other zero-emission car, and certainly no racing car, has done so.

“Formula E wants to raise the awareness and wants to promote the use of electric cars,” Agag says. “We think that electric cars are one way to fight climate change, and the best connection was to race this car here on the ice cap. If all cars in the world were electric, this ice would be much bigger.”

To the sound of wind and water, joins a third noise; the Bell’s giant rotors thumping against the Arctic air. It’s the best sound ever. Deliverance in the shape of a racing car hung beneath a Huey. Someone hums the tune to Ride of the Valkyries.

Agag and Di Grassi leap up and down as if they have won a race. Still, there’s no guarantee the car will run. There’s no news of what fell to Earth as it took off. But, for now, and after two hours of trying, this is a win. Peter places the car gingerly on the ice. He is a true hero.

Di Grassi is first to embrace his car. He pats it like a pet, then walks around inspecting its bespoke paint job. The rear wing has travelled inside the Huey after getting slightly damaged on the first aborted lift. It is refitted and the car is prepared for action.

“The wing mirror …” Lucas announces. “That’s what is missing.” It is not a mission-critical part, especially with no other cars for miles in a land where the longest road reportedly measures eight miles.

Nicco, a glaciologist, is with us to advise on the ice conditions. As the engineers check the car over (the cold and the flight might have affected the car’s battery, they warn), Nicco walks with Lucas, inspecting the area he thinks is safe to drive. Cracks in the otherwise smooth surface and the danger of the underground river make almost invisible booby traps when your eyes are less than a metre off the ground in a car with almost no suspension.

Back at the car, the engineers look happier. A Formula E car might be at the cutting edge of motorsport but it is a relatively simple and very robust piece of engineering. A post-flight health check is positive. The only concern now is the unproved mix of 200 kilowatts of electrical power sitting on a bed of melting ice; electricity and water don’t mix well, of course. The engineers sport rubber-soled boots, just in case. Lucas hopes he is earthed by the car’s four special tungsten-spiked Michelin ice tires.

“I tested on an ice rink near London but otherwise you cannot prepare for this,” says the F1 and Le Mans veteran.

The engineers want Lucas to get going. They cannot predict the lifespan of the battery when the surface temperature hovers around freezing. Formula E races happen mainly in densely populated urban areas in warm temperatures – the antithesis to Greenland. But then again, driving through London, Hong Kong or New York is not a world first and not a striking symbol of the argument for electric transport.

Technical Director Carlos Nunes gives Lucas the thumbs up and steps clear. No one knows what will happen next. Delicately, Di Grassi eases on the accelerator. After a little spin of the rear wheels, the ice spikes bite and the car leaps forward. History is in the making. The first racing car; the first zero emission car; the first electric car … to drive on the Greenland Ice Cap.

Agag leaps again. His vision was that of a race series to lead the technological and public relations charge in electric motoring. All that has been missing is a snapshot that shows why electric cars are relevant. Now he has that image.

Di Grassi is getting more and more confident. His spins the car in a donut. He power slides like a rally driver. At speeds he later calculates are over 60 mph, he occasionally gets a little air as the car bounces across the ice. A rooster tail of ice and meltwater is ejected from under the rear wing. The car looks striking, and a little gladiatorial in its spiked tires and intense ice livery.

The only emissions on the ice cap are noise. Di Grassi’s optimism is accompanied by an increase in intensity of the car’s trademark electric whine. And the whine inspires whoops from the small group of witnesses to this piece of motoring history.

“I never thought in my wildest dreams that I could be able to drive a race car on the ice cap,” di Grassi bubbles. “I had a lot of fun, drifting around and snow flying and ice flying, it was pretty cool. There was actually a lot of grip. We were able to do everything we planned to.

“It’s just such a beautiful, peaceful place and really, to come here and see all the icebergs, see the ice cap, how huge it is and how the effect of global warming are really melting it, gives me a completely different perception and understanding of what we’re doing with Formula E and the importance of driving electric cars.”