Cape Fanshawe, Northeastern Svalbard
An Arctic vacation is certainly one off the beaten path and as such is subject to the unexpected. Just when I start to think I have this place figured out, it knocks me off my feet with a whopping dose of humility. As the clock struck 6 this morning, I found myself on the bridge clinging to the spotting scope for both support and in frustration, for I had been glued to that scope for the better part of ten straight hours. After the previous night’s dinner, I decided to find a bear…specifically a mother bear and cubs. We hadn’t seen a young bear family yet this year, and I assumed we were due. So, without even changing from my dinner attire, I stalked up to the bridge to stake out my spot and wait. I thought it might take a couple of hours, but I was fairly confident that I’d be into bed by 2 or 3 at the latest.
By 4am, however, I was no longer hoping for a mother and cubs…I was hoping for ANY bear, and by 6, I realized I had been beaten. The ice had been there; the visibility good; and the sea had been so calm, I felt ashamed of our ship’s slight wake upon its surface. So as the day began for everyone else, and ended for me, I relented and succumbed to the pull of sleep. I was more than a little angry and certainly disappointed as I pulled the covers up over my head to hasten my passage into dreamland. But in those brief moments before the eyes closed, I replayed everything in my mind. Though at first I mentally re-scoured all the floes between midnight and six, I soon started remembering the myriad of other images that had filled the wee hours of the night.
There had been the waters so tranquil and smooth that the sky seemed to have been painted upon their surface; the reflection so perfect that the violet world surrounding the ship seemed infinite. The birds seemed to have noticed as well, for they were all on the water gazing down upon their own mirror image. Harp seals lolled at the surface doing slow back flips as if to only disturb the waters as minimally as possible. Bearded seals, at rest on the various floes, simply gazed out at it all and watched the passing ship with only mild interest. The tranquility and serene beauty of the night finally seeped in just as I fell off to sleep. At that moment I realized had fallen victim to bear fever, and forgotten how much else there is to experience here in Svalbard.
Throughout the day (after my much needed, albeit all too brief nap), the archipelago seemed to offer up its bounty as if trying to hammer home that very point. Cape Fanshawe came first, and along with it, thousands of nesting seabirds; all here to take full advantage of the short but incredibly rich Arctic summer. Then, a scant 2 hours later, we found ourselves packed onto a pebbly beach at Torellneset, face to face with a molting mass of walrus. Finally, just after lunch, the ice bear made an appearance, fittingly, in Bear Sound. And though we all would have been happy with the splendid views of that lone bear, rolling around on the ice; the calm waters, just ahead of the bow as we turned away, led us to another discovery…a mother bear and her young cub. The baby bear, safely nestled under its mother chin, watched our approach with a touch of curiosity, but certainly without fear. Under the protection of its attentive mother, it probably felt incredibly secure (and rightfully so!)
Some destinations, like Paris, call out to the masses with the lure of all the beauty and history that man can offer; but a place such as the Arctic reminds us all of how magnificent the world is outside the boundaries of civilization. And for the next few days, we only have to look out beyond our own bow to discover all the wonders of Svalbard.
An Arctic vacation is certainly one off the beaten path and as such is subject to the unexpected. Just when I start to think I have this place figured out, it knocks me off my feet with a whopping dose of humility. As the clock struck 6 this morning, I found myself on the bridge clinging to the spotting scope for both support and in frustration, for I had been glued to that scope for the better part of ten straight hours. After the previous night’s dinner, I decided to find a bear…specifically a mother bear and cubs. We hadn’t seen a young bear family yet this year, and I assumed we were due. So, without even changing from my dinner attire, I stalked up to the bridge to stake out my spot and wait. I thought it might take a couple of hours, but I was fairly confident that I’d be into bed by 2 or 3 at the latest.
By 4am, however, I was no longer hoping for a mother and cubs…I was hoping for ANY bear, and by 6, I realized I had been beaten. The ice had been there; the visibility good; and the sea had been so calm, I felt ashamed of our ship’s slight wake upon its surface. So as the day began for everyone else, and ended for me, I relented and succumbed to the pull of sleep. I was more than a little angry and certainly disappointed as I pulled the covers up over my head to hasten my passage into dreamland. But in those brief moments before the eyes closed, I replayed everything in my mind. Though at first I mentally re-scoured all the floes between midnight and six, I soon started remembering the myriad of other images that had filled the wee hours of the night.
There had been the waters so tranquil and smooth that the sky seemed to have been painted upon their surface; the reflection so perfect that the violet world surrounding the ship seemed infinite. The birds seemed to have noticed as well, for they were all on the water gazing down upon their own mirror image. Harp seals lolled at the surface doing slow back flips as if to only disturb the waters as minimally as possible. Bearded seals, at rest on the various floes, simply gazed out at it all and watched the passing ship with only mild interest. The tranquility and serene beauty of the night finally seeped in just as I fell off to sleep. At that moment I realized had fallen victim to bear fever, and forgotten how much else there is to experience here in Svalbard.
Throughout the day (after my much needed, albeit all too brief nap), the archipelago seemed to offer up its bounty as if trying to hammer home that very point. Cape Fanshawe came first, and along with it, thousands of nesting seabirds; all here to take full advantage of the short but incredibly rich Arctic summer. Then, a scant 2 hours later, we found ourselves packed onto a pebbly beach at Torellneset, face to face with a molting mass of walrus. Finally, just after lunch, the ice bear made an appearance, fittingly, in Bear Sound. And though we all would have been happy with the splendid views of that lone bear, rolling around on the ice; the calm waters, just ahead of the bow as we turned away, led us to another discovery…a mother bear and her young cub. The baby bear, safely nestled under its mother chin, watched our approach with a touch of curiosity, but certainly without fear. Under the protection of its attentive mother, it probably felt incredibly secure (and rightfully so!)
Some destinations, like Paris, call out to the masses with the lure of all the beauty and history that man can offer; but a place such as the Arctic reminds us all of how magnificent the world is outside the boundaries of civilization. And for the next few days, we only have to look out beyond our own bow to discover all the wonders of Svalbard.
