Nordaustlandet, Svalbard
In years gone by and under similar conditions, today would have probably been a white- knuckle day on the bridge of the MS Endeavour. The fog greeted us this morning off the south coast of Edgeøya Island and continued to blanket the archipelago until late afternoon. In another time, nearly every man would have been on deck straining to see the next iceberg before it could send the ship to a icy demise here in these frigid waters. Those sailors would have likely spent the day growing increasingly restless wondering if they would ever see their homes and families again, questioning their own reasoning for being in such treacherous waters. No such fretting was to be found here today, however. Aboard our ship we grew restless, only to see more of the beautiful scenery and wildlife that our minds knew to be just beyond the misty curtain. Captain Skog forced no one to endure a watch cold and alone atop the crow’s nest, all hands were certainly not on deck.
Instead we passed the time by listening to the staff give some insightful information on the icy landscape and the unique adaptations of the wildlife that make it their home. In the comforts of the lounge, a few managed to catch up on some sleep since the shades offered the only “sunset” to be found here under the midnight sun. Worry couldn’t have been further from our minds. Content to let the competent crew and stout ship weave through the labyrinth of barn-sized bergs thanks to the modern wonders of satellite ice charts and computerized radar, we busied ourselves by working our way through the myriad of toppings offered with our Swedish pancakes at tea time. And as the tables’ bounty disappeared, so did the fog; leaving us with a spectacular view of Nordaustlandet’s (“Northeastland” in English) 300-meter thick ice cap. The cliff loomed before us in icy blue grandeur complete with numerous glacial waterfalls that proved to be too tempting a target for our bridge, who immediately set about guiding the bow into the glacial river thankful for the chance to rid the deck of bothersome sea salt.
It seemed the ideal setting for a scenic Zodiac cruise, and we all left the ship behind while she swung back around to catch up with us further down the coastline. Although several species of birds were spotted along the way, and one inquisitive ring seal, the true spectacle was the land itself. Nordaustlandet is Svalbard’s second largest island, but much of it, over 200 km of coastline, is submerged beneath the thick ice cap. We drifted along underneath the cliffs and alongside recently calved icebergs marveling at sheer size and sublime beauty. And after pulling through the local drive-thru, run by our hotel staff, for hot cocoa, we finally took the last exit of the day and rejoined the ship in time for dinner. As we turned in for the evening, the fog had again returned leaving us to wonder…”what will be behind curtain number two?”
In years gone by and under similar conditions, today would have probably been a white- knuckle day on the bridge of the MS Endeavour. The fog greeted us this morning off the south coast of Edgeøya Island and continued to blanket the archipelago until late afternoon. In another time, nearly every man would have been on deck straining to see the next iceberg before it could send the ship to a icy demise here in these frigid waters. Those sailors would have likely spent the day growing increasingly restless wondering if they would ever see their homes and families again, questioning their own reasoning for being in such treacherous waters. No such fretting was to be found here today, however. Aboard our ship we grew restless, only to see more of the beautiful scenery and wildlife that our minds knew to be just beyond the misty curtain. Captain Skog forced no one to endure a watch cold and alone atop the crow’s nest, all hands were certainly not on deck.
Instead we passed the time by listening to the staff give some insightful information on the icy landscape and the unique adaptations of the wildlife that make it their home. In the comforts of the lounge, a few managed to catch up on some sleep since the shades offered the only “sunset” to be found here under the midnight sun. Worry couldn’t have been further from our minds. Content to let the competent crew and stout ship weave through the labyrinth of barn-sized bergs thanks to the modern wonders of satellite ice charts and computerized radar, we busied ourselves by working our way through the myriad of toppings offered with our Swedish pancakes at tea time. And as the tables’ bounty disappeared, so did the fog; leaving us with a spectacular view of Nordaustlandet’s (“Northeastland” in English) 300-meter thick ice cap. The cliff loomed before us in icy blue grandeur complete with numerous glacial waterfalls that proved to be too tempting a target for our bridge, who immediately set about guiding the bow into the glacial river thankful for the chance to rid the deck of bothersome sea salt.
It seemed the ideal setting for a scenic Zodiac cruise, and we all left the ship behind while she swung back around to catch up with us further down the coastline. Although several species of birds were spotted along the way, and one inquisitive ring seal, the true spectacle was the land itself. Nordaustlandet is Svalbard’s second largest island, but much of it, over 200 km of coastline, is submerged beneath the thick ice cap. We drifted along underneath the cliffs and alongside recently calved icebergs marveling at sheer size and sublime beauty. And after pulling through the local drive-thru, run by our hotel staff, for hot cocoa, we finally took the last exit of the day and rejoined the ship in time for dinner. As we turned in for the evening, the fog had again returned leaving us to wonder…”what will be behind curtain number two?”
