Isbukta S.W. Spitsbergen
A thick fog enveloped the National Geographic Endeavour as we made our way toward the glacier front at Isbukta on the south western tip of Spitsbergen . Even the tall mountain spires remained invisible to our searching eyes.
All hands were present on the ship's bridge as our captain briefed us on the safety procedures to be used in our zodiac trip to the glacier front. Armed with the latest in modern technology, each driver equipped with a hand held GPS, two crewfinder transmitters draped around their necks, and a radar relector erected in each boat, they left the ship in Zodiac pairs to seach out the invisible ice front.
The visibility was Zero -Zero and not until we were 200 feet from the front did we see the frozen behemoth of a glacier, rise out of the gray fog, which curled around our boats like the long tail of an angry cat. As we followed north we came upon a small number of black legged kittiwakes resting on a bergy bit. Later a ringed seal broke the surface of the oily calm seas, looked at us briefly and returned to its undisturbed underwater world .
We began our journey back to our invisible floating home on the sea with a call to the bridge announcing our intent. Then trusting to our instruments, as does an airline pilot on an IFR flight, we followed the GPS indicator back home. There is something both calming and humbling about traveling in a fog-veiled world, especially in this polar ice-bounded realm.
A thick fog enveloped the National Geographic Endeavour as we made our way toward the glacier front at Isbukta on the south western tip of Spitsbergen . Even the tall mountain spires remained invisible to our searching eyes.
All hands were present on the ship's bridge as our captain briefed us on the safety procedures to be used in our zodiac trip to the glacier front. Armed with the latest in modern technology, each driver equipped with a hand held GPS, two crewfinder transmitters draped around their necks, and a radar relector erected in each boat, they left the ship in Zodiac pairs to seach out the invisible ice front.
The visibility was Zero -Zero and not until we were 200 feet from the front did we see the frozen behemoth of a glacier, rise out of the gray fog, which curled around our boats like the long tail of an angry cat. As we followed north we came upon a small number of black legged kittiwakes resting on a bergy bit. Later a ringed seal broke the surface of the oily calm seas, looked at us briefly and returned to its undisturbed underwater world .
We began our journey back to our invisible floating home on the sea with a call to the bridge announcing our intent. Then trusting to our instruments, as does an airline pilot on an IFR flight, we followed the GPS indicator back home. There is something both calming and humbling about traveling in a fog-veiled world, especially in this polar ice-bounded realm.
