Svesfjord, Norway
The morning was already well advanced by the time even the earliest of the guests and crew were up - the sun crept over the horizon at 3:42am, unseen by all except the night watch and some of the cooks. The rest of us woke to calm seas and relatively warm weather, and a sense of being further north. We passed islands on the port side, punctuated by views of the open sea, large and small, tall and flat, and mostly rounded from the passage of ancient ice, and treeless other than for on their lower slopes. To starboard, the land was creased by the deep ravines of fjords, narrowing and rising toward more distant mountains, inland. Between these flooded glacial valleys, and on the islands to our port side, the forested lower slopes were periodically broken-up by characteristically colourful farmsteads and hamlets in oases of hayfields and gardens. Here and there, below them, small boats stood tied to jetties and wooden docks that probed out from the shore into the water.
After breakfast, we convened in the lounge for a briefing on sea-kayaks, in preparation for the afternoon excursion, and then Karen Copland gave a presentation on glaciology, to a full house.
An hour after lunch, and having had some time to look at the scenery or read or keep practicing newly-learned photographic techniques, we dropped anchor at the entrance to Sandvika Bay, on the south side of Svesfjord. The Zodiacs and sea-kayaks were lowered into the water, and a landing site and portable kayak dock were set up at the head of the bay. The shore above the beach was green and looked as though it had been cropped short by sheep or goats, a grassy crescent giving way to small fields and a smattering of houses and barns beneath the wooded lower slopes of the surrounding hills. The guests were then shuttled by Zodiac between the beach and the kayak dock, with some choosing to do nature hikes led by David Stevens and Karen Copland, while others opted to do some paddling. Some took the shorter of the two hikes so that they could do both activities. For the kayakers, this was a gentle practice run for the colder and somewhat more difficult kayaking opportunities that will present themselves, further north, in the next two weeks.
With everyone back aboard the National Geographic Endeavour and accounted for, the last Zodiac was hoisted back to its storage bay by 6 p.m., giving everyone time to have a shower, and change for dinner before meeting for the first recap of the trip. David Stephens gave a humourous mini-presentation on cuckoos, having heard one in the afternoon, and a number of other animals he termed 'obligate nest parasites'. Kelvin Murray, the undersea specialist, then showed his first underwater footage, which contained some surprisingly clear images of a variety of marine life including a moon jellyfish, a comb jelly, a sunstar and an oddly colourful cuckoo wrass. After that, Brent Huston and Rupert Pilkington contributed some mostly humourous offerings that were more about entertainment than edification.
After dinner, there was a narrows to pass through, and many people went up the forward deck beneath the Bridge in the hopes of a last photo opportunity of the day. At 9:30pm it was warm enough to be on deck in only a light sweater - something that will be unlikely beyond the next day or so.
And so the third day of this cruise draws to a close: Routines are establishing, and the new faces of a short time ago are becoming friends with names, discussions at dinner and in the bar, jokes in the stairwell and the joy and enthusiasm of a shared adventure. As people made their ways to their cabins, it was barely twilight - a harbinger of the light nights to come, as we travel north. There is a sense of excitement as we move close to the Arctic Circle, that magical gateway into a world of ice and snow and fascinating wildlife. For some there is the thought of revisiting something that moved them profoundly, while for most there is the hope that a lifetime of desires and dreams will be requited by what lies ahead.
The morning was already well advanced by the time even the earliest of the guests and crew were up - the sun crept over the horizon at 3:42am, unseen by all except the night watch and some of the cooks. The rest of us woke to calm seas and relatively warm weather, and a sense of being further north. We passed islands on the port side, punctuated by views of the open sea, large and small, tall and flat, and mostly rounded from the passage of ancient ice, and treeless other than for on their lower slopes. To starboard, the land was creased by the deep ravines of fjords, narrowing and rising toward more distant mountains, inland. Between these flooded glacial valleys, and on the islands to our port side, the forested lower slopes were periodically broken-up by characteristically colourful farmsteads and hamlets in oases of hayfields and gardens. Here and there, below them, small boats stood tied to jetties and wooden docks that probed out from the shore into the water.
After breakfast, we convened in the lounge for a briefing on sea-kayaks, in preparation for the afternoon excursion, and then Karen Copland gave a presentation on glaciology, to a full house.
An hour after lunch, and having had some time to look at the scenery or read or keep practicing newly-learned photographic techniques, we dropped anchor at the entrance to Sandvika Bay, on the south side of Svesfjord. The Zodiacs and sea-kayaks were lowered into the water, and a landing site and portable kayak dock were set up at the head of the bay. The shore above the beach was green and looked as though it had been cropped short by sheep or goats, a grassy crescent giving way to small fields and a smattering of houses and barns beneath the wooded lower slopes of the surrounding hills. The guests were then shuttled by Zodiac between the beach and the kayak dock, with some choosing to do nature hikes led by David Stevens and Karen Copland, while others opted to do some paddling. Some took the shorter of the two hikes so that they could do both activities. For the kayakers, this was a gentle practice run for the colder and somewhat more difficult kayaking opportunities that will present themselves, further north, in the next two weeks.
With everyone back aboard the National Geographic Endeavour and accounted for, the last Zodiac was hoisted back to its storage bay by 6 p.m., giving everyone time to have a shower, and change for dinner before meeting for the first recap of the trip. David Stephens gave a humourous mini-presentation on cuckoos, having heard one in the afternoon, and a number of other animals he termed 'obligate nest parasites'. Kelvin Murray, the undersea specialist, then showed his first underwater footage, which contained some surprisingly clear images of a variety of marine life including a moon jellyfish, a comb jelly, a sunstar and an oddly colourful cuckoo wrass. After that, Brent Huston and Rupert Pilkington contributed some mostly humourous offerings that were more about entertainment than edification.
After dinner, there was a narrows to pass through, and many people went up the forward deck beneath the Bridge in the hopes of a last photo opportunity of the day. At 9:30pm it was warm enough to be on deck in only a light sweater - something that will be unlikely beyond the next day or so.
And so the third day of this cruise draws to a close: Routines are establishing, and the new faces of a short time ago are becoming friends with names, discussions at dinner and in the bar, jokes in the stairwell and the joy and enthusiasm of a shared adventure. As people made their ways to their cabins, it was barely twilight - a harbinger of the light nights to come, as we travel north. There is a sense of excitement as we move close to the Arctic Circle, that magical gateway into a world of ice and snow and fascinating wildlife. For some there is the thought of revisiting something that moved them profoundly, while for most there is the hope that a lifetime of desires and dreams will be requited by what lies ahead.
