Raudfjord, Spitsbergen, Svalbard
The Endeavour departed from Longyearbyen late yesterday afternoon, and our journey in the High Arctic archipelago of Svalbard was begun. During the night (if we can call it night when the sun never sets) we headed north along the west side of the main island of Spitsbergen, looking for ice and wondering what it would bring us. We found the pack ice—frozen sea water left over from the past winter—and more of it than we might have wished. The ice was unusually hard and dense for late July, forming an impenetrable barrier that barred further progress towards the east. That’s why they call it an expedition! Our plan for the voyage was quickly adjusted. In fact, the old plan was tossed out, replaced by a new one. We will spend our day exploring northwestern Spitsbergen and then reverse our course to circle the island from the south.
We entered Raudfjord (“Red Fjord”, named for the “Old Red Sandstone” found there), a deep, glacier-carved gash into the north coast of Spitsbergen. We stopped to watch our first polar bear of the journey, an old male ambling along a glacial moraine. In fact, our whole day was a lesson in glaciers and glacially-carved topography. Once, not so very long ago (ending less than 20,000 years ago), the glaciers of Svalbard were advancing, gouging and carving the landscape, leaving behind the deep valleys and sharp peaks that give “Spitsbergen” its name (in Dutch, given by the expedition of Willem Barents which found Spitsbergen in 1596). It is an austere and hauntingly beautiful landscape. Many of us, in gazing out at the peaks across the fjord, felt the first pangs of “Polar Fever,” an irresistible attraction to the lands of snow and ice.
The Endeavour departed from Longyearbyen late yesterday afternoon, and our journey in the High Arctic archipelago of Svalbard was begun. During the night (if we can call it night when the sun never sets) we headed north along the west side of the main island of Spitsbergen, looking for ice and wondering what it would bring us. We found the pack ice—frozen sea water left over from the past winter—and more of it than we might have wished. The ice was unusually hard and dense for late July, forming an impenetrable barrier that barred further progress towards the east. That’s why they call it an expedition! Our plan for the voyage was quickly adjusted. In fact, the old plan was tossed out, replaced by a new one. We will spend our day exploring northwestern Spitsbergen and then reverse our course to circle the island from the south.
We entered Raudfjord (“Red Fjord”, named for the “Old Red Sandstone” found there), a deep, glacier-carved gash into the north coast of Spitsbergen. We stopped to watch our first polar bear of the journey, an old male ambling along a glacial moraine. In fact, our whole day was a lesson in glaciers and glacially-carved topography. Once, not so very long ago (ending less than 20,000 years ago), the glaciers of Svalbard were advancing, gouging and carving the landscape, leaving behind the deep valleys and sharp peaks that give “Spitsbergen” its name (in Dutch, given by the expedition of Willem Barents which found Spitsbergen in 1596). It is an austere and hauntingly beautiful landscape. Many of us, in gazing out at the peaks across the fjord, felt the first pangs of “Polar Fever,” an irresistible attraction to the lands of snow and ice.
