Burgerbukta - First feet on Svalbard

Through breakfast this morning, south Spitsbergen emerged from heavy low cloud out at sea. The white on the distant horizon was dense enough to make you wonder if it was actually Svalbard or just more cloud. But it became clear these were glaciers and ice fields. Ohh my heart. I felt home.

“I’m so excited! I’m so ready!”

Today, our little group of 25 or so were the first called down to the ‘ready room’ to gear up for the zodiacs. Life vest, boots, mittens, toque and done. We had by this time perfected the getting ready process, life vest strap from our back, down snuggly between our legs back up to our chest and all. I was so excited and so ready as I stood by getting scanned off the ship waiting to jump into our zodiac.

6 5 chargers to rule them all

In our daily briefing the night before, it was explained that this afternoon we would break ourselves into 4 groups to go ashore for the opportunity to do some hiking - the chargers, medium-fast, medium, and to raucous laughter - contemplative. The chargers would be described as wanting to go as far and fast as possible to see as much as possible, while contemplative was… not so much needing an explanation.

I was undecided between being a charger and medium-fast. I wanted to see everything but I also wanted to photograph everything and breathe everything in. I ended up with the chargers, 6 victims total to Tara, our expedition leader who was also the first person (in the world) to circumnavigate Svalbard in a kayak 10 years earlier. Within the first 10 minutes, we lost 1 in our break neck pace, and were down to 5. Thankfully, the other chargers were just as happy to make time for photography so we did keep a good pace and time for photos. It was amazing, and the shower back on the ship before dinner was probably the most heavenly one I’ve ever had, aside from the one I just took two days ago at the completion of my main bath renovation back here at home. Finally. How does grout sealer need 72 hours to cure anyway?!

The chargers

Polar bear prints

And then as we were just sitting down for our daily briefing in the theatre right before dinner, we were told to make our way very calmly and quietly to the front of the ship for a wildlife sighting. With no one dressed for the -3°C outside, and more of us with drinks in our hands than cameras, we went out and saw our first polar bear poking around on some sea ice. He was far in the distance, and difficult to see with the naked eye, but incredible all the same.

Another best day.

Our polar bear friend out on some sea ice

Birding at Bear Island, and meeting the midnight sun

The state of the sea ice and current state of the weather gave us a unique opportunity to make a special little detour on our way to Svalbard - heading off east to Bjørnøya, or Bear Island.

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While I was in the middle of some morning yoga, announcements were made about whales and dolphins being spotted, and I cannot tell you how cold it is running out to the exterior deck barefoot in shorts and a t-shirt at 74°N in May. Despite the wildlife and scenic sea ice, the ocean was so calm this morning, I wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to go from standing crane to warrior 3 without being thrown sideways onto the floor as we rolled through 5 metre swells.

After yoga, it was the perfect morning for a second slow coffee in the panorama lounge while we slowly forged our way through the ice to the island. Once there, we again jumped into zodiacs for some scenic cruising along the cliffs.

A humpback whale

White beaked dolphins

Squeezing through the pearly gates

Through all of my travels, for all of the time spent in polar regions over the last 20 years, so little of it has been in the summer, let alone outside the darkest depths of the winter.

Even living in Yellowknife, and for a few years the Yukon, I was always just a little south of meeting the midnight sun and 24 hours of sunlight. And then halfway through this cruise, the sun would just no longer set. I was excited, it was something I really looked forward to. I dreamt of staying up all night on deck bathed in low orange sunlight as we cruised past snowy mountains. There was a little of that, but our days were so full and I was so exhausted, there was just no hope of the all-nighters I was fantasizing about. But that was okay. These special moments of waking through the night and seeing sunlight on the curtains at 1am and 2am, and just taking some minutes alone out on the bow of the ship were enough. It was magical, and for a reason I don’t understand, the midnight sun just meant so much to me. I’ll never forget it.

The midnight sun

Jan Mayen - a glacier covered volcano

Our first views of Jan Mayen were a mostly white mass of snow and ice far in the distance, kind of lost against a grey sky and darker grey ocean. Huge flocks of birds danced in unison just above the horizon far away. It felt kind of surreal.

We’d once again need to zodiac to shore, after just the night before, getting permission from the Norwegian military to visit, so as we approached a protected cove, we got the word that conditions were “workable” and out we went to the island.

We were sort of restricted to a smaller area, but I felt again like I didn’t have enough time. I spent so much time bird watching at the top of a cliff that I didn’t have all the time I wished I could have had to explore other areas. Everything just felt sort of intoxicating, I lost track of time and was obsessively interested in everything. There was just too much to see, too much to photograph, too much to breathe in.

Killer whales cruising the coast of Jan Mayen with us

Whooper swan

At the end of our day on Jan Mayen, I joined the last zodiac back to the ship (because of course I did) with a few others, and we took a little detour cruising up the coast to where some puffins were hanging out on the water and on the cliffs. Our guide was so thoughtful, manouvering us around the puffins so the sun would be at our back for photography, so we’d drift in closer to them. It was just the best, it was so special being so close and at almost eye level with them, watching them disappear between swells. And then it was here we ran out of gas (oh no, how terrible), and it took some time while we switched tanks. Finally we did get fuel flowing from the backup tank and we were back at the ship, all of us even happier for the extra time out, obviously.

Then during dinner, as we continued to sail the coast, gorgeous blue skies opened up over the volcano peaks. It was just like magic, truly. There was an energy you could feel, everyone was so happy and completely amazed.

Northern bottlenose whales

Dinner views

Deeper into the Faroes

It was the breakfast with the most beautiful view of my life. I could feel my heart in my chest. Half of me couldn’t run out to the bow of the ship fast enough while the other half could stay with my hot coffee, breathing it all in from breakfast for ever.

We were sailing up from Tórshavn to the small village of Funningur, on the island of Eysturoy toward the north of the Faroes.

On this morning, I had this anxious feeling that I couldn’t waste a moment. I wanted to see every grass covered hill, every stream and waterfall, every sliver of sunlight on a mountain or the ocean. In reality, there was no panic. We were going to have all day - all day to hike, take in a guided tour around town, and time to explore. It just hadn’t even really begun and I already couldn’t stand having to leave.

It reminded me of when I picked up my rental car in Iceland. The rental agent confirming my reservation out loud to me ‘5 weeks… Okay… And what do you plan to do in Iceland for 5 weeks?’

And to me, he was the crazy one. 5 lifetimes would not be enough, never mind 5 weeks.

And the Faroes just felt the same, and I knew it would be that way. The heart being ripped out of my chest feeling when it was time to leave — and it was definitely that.

The village of Funningur

After a little quiet time with some sheep up at the top of town - a waterfall above me, a stream cutting just in front of me, and the ‘pier’ down below me, I knew I should probably be getting back down to return to the ship, but I had that sinking feeling in my stomach.

“Of course it’s Sean!”

Coming around the corner of a building and down to the zodiac landing site, all our expedition guides and staff are lined up and one sees me and says with a smile and a laugh “Of course it’s Sean!”

I smirked, seeing that I was obviously the last one back joining a few others lingering around… “I know, I know - but I don’t want to, I don’t want to, I don’t want to!”, I say with a laugh back.

Getting to and around Tórshavn, Faroe Islands

Following our departure from North Ronaldsay, there were a few of us crazies up in the panorama lounge loving life being thrown around by the ocean. Most of the ship was far less thrilled than we were though. The dining room at dinner was kind of laughably empty, and I chuckled with the dining room staff every time the ship got a good jolt. They had just come up from Antarctica and a season crossing the Drake, so this was all still childs play to them. But for me, the thrill of the waves rocking the ship made me feel like a child again. I loved it.

North of North Ronaldsay enroute to the Faroes

Some quiet time in the panorama lounge after dinner, culling bird photos, way too many bird photos, to the soothing motion of the ocean and a deepening twilight sky after sunset finally gave way to bed. Tórshavn would be in the morning, and the alarm for breakfast always comes way too early.

The night was… a little rough. But just how rough? My Apple Watch detected enough motion through the night to award me with standing hours while I was lying in bed sleeping.

Every so often I would be jolted awake to the thunderous boom of a wave hitting especially hard. I could feel myself smile and go immediately back to sleep.

My first puffins right alongside the ship as we slowed nearing the harbour of Tórshavn!

We had all day in Tórshavn, and started with a hike from the outskirts of town over to Kirkjubøur - a small community just over the mountains. It was more breathtaking than I could ever tell you or show you. The weather changed every 5 minutes, and our guide bumped into a farmer he knew so we stopped to gush over all his beautiful sheep. The views of dramatic mountainsides rising and falling into the sea, covered in grass and the most beautiful rock were just perfect. I loved the town, I loved the culture, I loved the nature, and it had been all of about 3 minutes.

For the rest of the day back in Tórshavn now, I walked the coast, criss-crossed through town, and of course, took the opportunity to seek out wool sweaters which was both overwhelmingly expensive and successful. A few of us showed up to dinner back onboard the ship that night in our distinctly Faroese hand knit sweaters.

It was the best, most magical day ever.