What Does the Fox Eat?

 

As the guests slept, Fram made its turn northwards for the first time and steamed towards Barentsoya. This island is the fourth largest that comprises the archipelago of Svalbard, but has little in the way of human history. Robust ice conditions in centuries past made it almost inaccessible to sea-farers of old. However, what it lacks in human history, it makes up for in the natural variety.

We skirted the coast, heading for Freemansund. This passageway does not suffer fools lightly and is plagued by strong currents if caught at the wrong tide. It is navigated nonetheless for its on-board reputation as "The Polar Bear Corridor". On this occasion it did not disappoint, with a total of eight bears spotted along the decaying coastline. Indeed, so ubiquitous was the presence of the world's largest land carnivore that by the time we arrived at our only landing site of the day, a wait ensued for three of the bears stationed nearby to depart before we could begin our landing.

Under the watchful eye of one remaining (but fortunately distant) bear, a heavily armed expedition team landed on the island to secure the beach. The wind built throughout the afternoon, recording gusts of over 20m/s that aggravated the surrounding waters as the guests were ferried ashore. Those who braved the waves were richly rewarded.

They were to be entertained by an eddying flock of kittiwakes, tethered to a narrow canyon in which they had constructed their colony. Arctic foxes swept the floor, picking off the young, the weak or simply the unwary. Some even scaled the sides of the canyon, ambushing unfortunate birds which were wrestled down from the cliffs in a welter of feathers. Those kittiwakes that strayed too far from their compatriots found themselves battered to exhaustion by a gang of Arctic skuas, attempting to brutalise the birds into surrendering their last, half-digested meal.

The show was dynamic and enthralling; appearing all the more so for the barrenness of the desert that surrounded it. Somehow here, in this fissure in the rock, life had concentrated and competed ferociously for the right to survive another year in this wilderness. All the main players were too busy to care much for the bunch of blue-jacketed observers who came and went in procession, staring up at the relentless nature of life on Svalbard.

 

The evening held more relaxed entertainment than the amphitheatre of the birds - the crew fashion show. Press-ganged members of staff were paraded back and forth wearing various items from the on-board shop and painful smiles on their faces (much to the amusement of the guests). So ended another splendid day in the High Arctic.

Going the other way round

Nobody can stop Nature, especially not in these parts, so close to the pole. We have re-learned this lesson on the last trip, when we had to turn around at the point of furthest north. To avoid this from happening again we changed our itinerary significantly by starting the trip counter-clockwise, in order to reach the most tempting part, Svalbard’s East, whatever the conditions are.

So we arrive at the legendary Hornsund after breakfast and the introduction of the officers and Expedition Team, under grey skies and with moderate winds. The name “Horn Sound” may seem a little confusing, as it is a dead end. But in fact it is only a lot of ice at its end that blocks the passage. Come warmer times and the name is absolutely accurate.

We start our activities in Austre Burgerbukta, one branch of the huge fjord, limited by a pretty glacier, Kvalfangerbreen.

From here a small group of intrepid hikers ventures into the flanks of the mountains, across steep moraines, having great views into the area and finding interesting fossils. At the end of a pretty strenuous walk they happily join up with the others who have been kayaking, glacier-walking, or simply strolling along the beach with this incredible scenario.

After a Polar Cirkel Boat ride to the impressive front of Kvalfangerbreen we weigh anchor.  Hornsund has the reputation as a good spot for polar bears, so all available binoculars are propped against keen eyes.

And we don’t have to wait for very long: High up in the neighboring fjord’s flank rests a bear, most likely after hunting for bird’s nests. One would not believe how good climbers they are! For a while we look at the furry mountaineer, then our captain takes us further into Hornsund, to Breepollen, a stunning spot where several glaciers meet and calve, shedding great amounts of ice into the water.

The fading light of the evening (although we are still a bit away from a real sunset) creates a monochrome and surreal atmosphere, here in this icy world.

During the night we will pass Sørkappen, the southernmost point of Spitsbergen, in order to cross the Storfjord (which is not a fjord…) to tomorrows destination, Barents Island.

The Journey Begins (Again)

Arriving in Longyearbyen after another excellent voyage, the Expedition Team was up early to bid farewell to our latest batch of guests. Time to reflect on a job well done is scarce, as once again the team headed straight to the rifle range to sharpen their polar bear defence skills. It is an important weekly ritual, building confidence and a steady hand for the close-encounter that nobody wants to have.

Guests from three continents assembled at MV Fram to check in and be issued with our famous blue jacket. It will need to protect them from the wind, rain and snow of Svalbard's capricious climate and raised expectations as the mooring lines were cast off and Fram struck out into Arctic waters.

Our first port of call was the nearby Russian mining settlement of Barentsburg. Your telephone adjusting to Russian time is the first signal that you have arrived at a place which, in spite of significant recent development, remains inescapably Soviet. Devastated by a plane crash in 1996, the town has an air of unrequited ambition. 

A statue of Lenin watches over a communal garden, splendidly inappropriate for the Arctic climate. Several buildings are clad with Soviet-era murals of birch- and pine-trees, reminding the local population of what they are missing back in less hostile latitudes.

The guests were shown around town by native guides and then unleashed to wander the streets. Many of the buildings are splashed with Soviet artwork demonstrating man's oneness with nature. 

In one corner of the town sits a bizarre hovercraft-cum-boat creation, so outlandish in both design and paintwork that it looks as though it has dropped out of a poor 1980's sci-fi film. The gift shop, post-office and Pomor museum are all worth a visit too, but most made sure to be in the theatre by 21.45 for the highlight of the evening - an absorbing Russian folk-concert. 

The crew has become used to the catchy number "Welcome to Svalbard, We Are from Russia" being hummed as guests wander the ship for days afterwards.

It was 23.00 before the guests were back on board and able to reflect on a busy first day.  

Fram cast off from the pier and steamed out of Isfjord before turning south. The winds lay dormant. The midnight sun shone overhead. The seas were mirror-smooth and the engines purred. Life on a ship doesn't get much better; flawless conditions and an adventure ahead.

Lemon or Orange, Flag or Chart…?

Wow, so this is how Svalbard can also be, huh?

Ice is cold, so the air above it gets denser and starts to sink, gaining momentum over the glacier, coming down as a catabatic wind. These winds can either be terribly strong in their own right, or - like today - add to the weather conditions that are prevailing already.

Anyway, we are greeted by a strong gale on entry of the Hornsund. The waves display  small white crowns and the howling is unmistakable. So, no Kayaking here, that is for sure. As for the hike we have to change plans, too, as the original itinerary involves a 2,5-mile boat ride, which would result in a group of hikers who start already drenched to the bone…

But there is more options, always. So we take off at the other flank of the valley, where huge whale bones and green mounds tell the tale of the whaling times that were. But this is not the only important piece of history that we come across. In the mountains around we see several cairns that were not put there by happy tourists but by the participant of a famous scientific expedition, Arc Meridian.

At the end of the 19th century people were keen on knowing more about our planet, especially how it is shaped. Two schools were discussing hard: Those who said Earth looks like a lemon, e.g. elongated towards the poles, and those who favored the orange with a dent north and south.

The method: Measuring the distance between parallels close to the poles; a greater distance means lemon, a shorter indicates orange. This required meticulous gauging and loads of trigonometry, which was carried out by the Russian/Swedish participants of the expeditionHence the cairns which served as beacons.

The orange won.

And in Gåshamna a hut in great solitude is all that remains from this amazing effort.

In spite of the strong wind and the sand storm we go out, and we enjoy this last landing very much.

In the afternoon Captain Hårvik invites to his Farewell Speech, followed by the charity auction, the proceedings of which go to polar bear research and protection. Maybe the fact that we saw ten of these remarkable animals was still present in everybody’s mind, the auction yielded a substantial amount. Well done!

The day ends with the last dinner on board, well deserved. And well served, too…

Just liquid sunshine...

What weather out there! High waves and windspeed up to 12m/s made it impossible to land at Andreetangen. The nature of expedition struck us in all it’s power. So what to do? The expedition team was not tired to put up some lectures for us and distract us a bit from the greyish weather outside. So the german speakers learned how Svalbard’s glaciers are on the move and the English listened to Thomas’ highly interesting facts about the king of the Arctic: the polar bear! And after lunch we went for real expedition, we made a landing at Russebukta, a new place on Edgeøya MV Fram hasn’t been before! The weather was still somehow “rough” and it was raining – but that was just liquid sunshine.. J 

The place itself was lovely, soft ground basaltic rocks, lots of polar willow, knotweed and saxifrages. Some of us spotted reindeers and red throated divers, barnacle geese, eider ducks, kittiwakes, snow bunting, northern fulmars, arctic terns and purple sandpipers, all the feathered friends were there. Some of us spotted a ring seal lying on the beach. Unfortunately it had an infection on its eyes and seemed not to be very well anymore, so we kept our distance, not to stress it even more. 

The way back to MV Fram turned out to be “quite” wet – we all got soaked with sea spray, it was hilarious! How nice to get back to the warmth of a cozy boat, awaiting us with pancakes and hot coffee! (And a hot shower…)

Bear Symphony

The morning finds us on the way to a famous passage, the Freeman Sound, connecting the Storfjord with the Hinlopen Strait. Remember? That’s the one we wanted to cross from the North, was it three days ago? Three weeks? Time’s really getting fuzzy up here…

Until we get there it’s time to go for a bridge visit or hear some lectures, and just after lunch we reach the entrance to Freemansundet.

Several landing opportunities await here in Svalbard’s East, where the landscape spoils the eye with gentle, horizontal layers, interrupted only by meltwater canyons. You can watch for miles and miles. Which is good when you plan a landing with many people: We have a strong interest in knowing if there is a furry landing party waiting for us, the one without antlers, that is.

And indeed, our first intention to go ashore in Sundneset is thwarted by the presence of a strolling bear on top of the long basaltic wall leading into the hinterland.

Well, no landing here, but a bear, right. We continue into Freemansundet.

To not make it longer than necessary - we encountered a “bear infestation” this morning: No less than eight bears show up in the slopes, foiling our every attempt to land.

So we decide to take our chances with bear #1, at least it was pretty far away.

As we approach Sundneset the animal is nowhere to be seen. That calls for a thorough search before we land anyone. Expedition Team fans out, careful and keen-eyed. Luck favors the brave, and 20 minutes later we find our bear, even further in the distance, awake but at ease. May the landing begin!

And  a wonderful landing it is, the land is wide and breathtakingly beautiful. It seems that you can see a hundred miles far, the slopes of the mountains gently disappearing in the distance. It’s a paradise, actually more for the birds than for the bear. Whereas large numbers of pink-footed geese, ptarmigans, snow buntings or red-throated divers find everything they need here, it is herbal diet for the king of the Arctic. For want of better food we have seen them scrambling up the scree and chewing all kinds of greenery.

Not so much our “landing bear”. Peacefully she (looked like a female from the distance) was stretched out on the ground, absolutely aware of us, sniffing every now and then, listening, watching. But not interested at all in us, so our extended polar bear watch has nothing to do than - well, watch.

And as the landing comes to an end, the bear also gets up and strolls away. Show is over, for her and for us. Now we are headed for the South of Edgeøya, see what happens tomorrow!

Sparkling glacier ice

So we were on the way down south to Bellsund with high speed, doing 14.5 knots! The plan was to arrive about 15 o’clock in Recherchefjorden, but what to do until then? The team of MV Fram put up lectures, so first we could dive into the geology of Svalbard with Steffen – and yes, geology rocks! For the german speakers, Manuel together with Ralf told us the little secrets about the feathered creatures flying around on Svalbard. And from the birds it went straight on to Svalbards hunters – the trappers! 
But if you now think, that was all a looong time ago – compared with some age of the glaciers on Svalbard that’s nothing! Also this we learnt this morning.. So, but enough about lectures and learning, it was time to get off the ship! But… what was awaiting us when we were arriving at Recherchefjorden? A polar bear… The white fellow was luckily not very interested in us and still quite far away, so we could do the landing! And what a landing: right in front of the glacier on the terminal moraine we got dropped off by the polar circle boats! From far we could hear the glacier’s calving – and all the big pieces of glacier ice on the sandy moraine pit looked sparkled crystal clear and looked just beautiful! 
We were wandering around, of course watching the polar bear from a safe distance and we encountered its traces all over the place on the sand! How big they were, impressive! On the side of the mountains we could clearly see the lateral moraine of the glacier, so where we were actually standing it was all glacier – which was quite impressive to see as well! The time went quick and soon it was time to leave this marvelous place – not without 5 bags full of garbage we collected on the shoreline!

The Nature of Expedition

If it weren’t for the ice one would really have a doubt: Are we really in the highest Arctic??

The morning finds us with immaculate blue skies, mild temperatures above 5 degrees celsius and literally no wind at all. No need for the big sweater - “why did I bring all these warm clothes…?” 

But then again, just look ahead. We are using the morning hours to hover in front of one of the most majestic glaciers in Svalbard, the Monacobreen. Named after Prince Albert of Monaco (the older), who was an ardent fan of the Arctic and financed many costly enterprises to explore the beauty of this barren world. Well, we can only wish he had one single day like we are having today!

But that was only the beginning. High north as we are, we definitely like to have an audience with the King of this beautiful place. So all binoculars are propped to keen eyes, every bright rock, log, dirty snow patch is a suspect for a short moment.

But no, it seems like Master Bear doesn’t want to be seen today, not in the pretty labyrinth of Andøyane, neither on the expanses of ice that lie north of this.

Well, patience is a virtue…

After a while we see the flat silhouette of Moffen ahead of us, usually a reliable resting place for walrus, but of course we are a little skeptical now. However, on approach we see a medium-size group of the brown “monster sausages” on the beach, the tusks gleaming white in the sun.

But what is this? One of the big logs on the land spit is suddenly starting to move and raise its head. Round white ears, black nose big neck - a polar bear!

And indeed, the massive male gets to its feet and walks leisurely across the island, right past all the camera lenses that are pointed at it. We have our first bear…

And now it’s ice time. While a week ago we had to move another 25 miles north to find the ice edge, we see the white stripe on the horizon after only half an hours ride.

The pack ice stretches from horizon to horizon.

Now Expedition Leader Karin plays a trump ace: We launch the Polar Cirkel Boats and start a cruise into the pack ice with everybody. Sometimes it looks as if the boats are totally engulfed by the ice floes and will never make it out again. But that is of course an illusion, all drivers and staff are experienced and safely bring everyone back to FRAM. 

As the light of the evening imbues the whole world in soft colors we start heading for the Hinlopen Strait to continue the tour around Spitsbergen. But today we encounter a surprising obstacle - the ice itself. So much of it has accumulated at the entrance of the strait in the last to days that it is absolutely impossible to pass. Here goes the circumnavigation…

But it would be only half the fun if everything were foreseeable, wouldn’t it?

Immediately a plan B is forged, so we turn the ship around and start heading down the west coast to get to a place that we normally don’t have the time to visit, Bellsund.

That’s what we mean when we tell you at the beginning of our journey: You’re not on holiday - you’re on expedition…