Polar Bear, Northern Svalbard
In the Land of the Midnight Sun, sightings of wildlife can occur at any time. Not long after the sun’s nearest approach to the horizon, we woke to the announcement of a bear in view. Tumbling out of bed, we made our groggy way to some kind of a vantage point. And the view was extraordinary. A bear was half-way through a midnight snack of seal. He was a handsome male, with scars on his roman nose from battles for mates. The Captain maneuvered the ship gingerly, but the bear was still somewhat perturbed by our arrival. Eventually he pulled his prize off into the water and swam to another nearby berg. Dragging the seal across the ice, he left a prints and a scarlet streak on the ice – a scene that was at once gruesome and lovely. Once again, the Captain inched forward, giving us superb views. The bear lay on the ice and tugged at his meal, clearly relishing his blubbery repast. Glaucous and angelic ivory gulls paced about, ferreting tidbits of gore. This time the bear seemed more tolerant of our company. Cameras clicked like echolocating bats. People spoke in whispers. And at last we withdrew, leaving the bear to complete his meal in customary solitude.
Seemingly minutes later, though in fact at a normal notion of “morning,” we were told of more wildlife ahead. We were entering an icy bay that seemed a veritable Arctic ark. Four bears were scattered around the fast ice. A minke whale appeared. Belugas swam along the ice edge, arousing great hopeful interest in a seaside bear. Geese flew by, their reflections barely altered in the lightly textured sea. Fulmars scudded by on stiff wings, and gulls, ever hopeful, were on ceaseless patrol. We neared one bear engaged in seemingly random behavior. He lay on the ice edge. He followed whales. He wandered the chaos of fast ice. At last he slipped into the water for an icy swim. Not wanting to disturb a bear in the water, we stole away.
For much of the day, we cruised through the fjords and by the islets of Svalbard. For some time we sailed with a gentle “fogbow” arcing by the ship. The day was stunning, with imposing peaks and immaculate glaciers etched into the landscape by the brilliant sun.
Late in the afternoon, we anchored in Cross Fjord, which terminated in the mighty glacier which formed it. Cliffs above the fjord were filled with birds. Kittiwakes and murres crowded the cliff faces, and geese peered down from the moss-clad scree slopes. Many were fortunate enough to see puffins, always the favorite among sea birds. Reindeer ambled along slope and shore. Hikers were amazed at the difference between this area and that of yesterday’s visit. Gone was the “polar desert.” We were on the wet, west side of the island, on a southward-facing slope, with seabird guano fertilizer. Moss and cushiony plants were thick and abundant, and we saw three completely different species of flowers! With warm weather and sun-shiny conditions, this was a delightful final afternoon in the wilds of Svalbard.
Together we have sampled extraordinary variety. We have trod the busy streets of Bergen and Tromso. We have admired the massive stones and quietude of an ancient monastery. We have stood beneath swaying grids of drying fish and listened to the maniacal cackle of nesting gulls. We have contemplated the impersonal emptiness of the Arctic, and gazed, astonished, at its fecundity. And though we can never attain the perceptions of a bear, we have gained an inkling of their lives and of the icy world they call home.
