I was frustrated. An early morning (2:40 am) visit to the toilet left me with a sense of longing as the blues and pinks of pre-dawn danced before my eyes to the north east from the window. I had to just accept that this was one scene I couldn’t capture and went back to bed!
Waking again at a much more reasonable time, I grabbed the laptop and walked to the lounge. From the safety of a large picture window I looked out on a grey world; snow buntings were hunkered down on the ground in front of the hotel, sheltering from a brisk breeze. Movement in the distance was confirmed by using binoculars as a polar fox running across the tundra, stopping periodically to check for food, but seemingly oblivious to the arctic terns that swooped at it as it came closer to their nests.
Slowly, more activity started in the hotel. Dara, a young Thai team member busied herself putting together a veritable feast of different foods for breakfast. The plan for today was to cross the mouth of the bay towards the northern sea shore. As we were the only guests, three of the team would join us.
Firstly, we had to climb into the survival suits, brought with us from Longyearbyen. It gets easier each time, but only just. You also better gauge the clothes you need to wear underneath! Never comfortable to wear, these choices make the difference between the degrees of discomfort. I wasn’t making the same mistake again! The boat was lifted from its position on the jetty down to the water by a large crane. We all climbed aboard and set off. The waves were coming from a completely different direction, thankfully not high and closely spaced. The boast skipped across the surface making good progress.
As we arrived on the northern shore, Harri explained about the large cliff face in front of us, home, during the summer, to the largest colonies of birds on the islands. The ‘poo’ produced created large quantities of peat material, giving sufficient depth for fox dens. He regaled us with observations about the first flights of birds, desperate to reach the open sea to the south. Unfortunately, some of the young birds were unable to make it in one flight, landing at the base of the cliff, where hungry foxes and even the occasional bear, waited. Nature has a feeding hierarchy, but can seem so cruel.
We moved into Protektorfjessel Bay, a natural harbourage and safe haven for ships from as long ago as the 1600s. The wind died as we moved into the lee of large mountains. Harri slowed the craft as we continued towards a glacier at the end of the bay. A small hut sat close to the western shoreline, used by Government rangers who patrolled the area. We scanned the shorelines for movement, this area was remote and inhabited, polar bears were more likely to frequent the area due to the greater abundance of permanent snow and ice, even though it had receded during the summer months.
A thin watery light from the sun peaked through giving a fraction of warmth. We pulled onto a rocky shore, bow on and Harri and Jonny jumped off, taking ropes and anchors to hold the boat on shore. 'Not long’ Harri warned ‘Stay together’ as he walked up a small incline to better scan the area in front. He would, later in the day, explain some of the hairy situations he had got into while guiding guests on these shores. More than anything, if a polar bear were in the vicinity and showed curiosity, he didn’t want to put the animal in mortal danger. He had the gun!
We shrugged out of the surveil suits and walked off towards the foot of the glacier. Small pools lay under the ice front, mirror like in their stillness. Everyone had a camera. I learnt later that Anthony, the English chef, had been published in various papers and magazines. He had worked as a chef in Antarctica since 2006 and captured breathtaking images of the aurora and expedition sites. He was also passionate about star trails and the polar night was an ideal opportunity to indulge this type of imagery.
Small (and larger) blocks of ice lay around us. I snapped away happily, trying to capture the scenes before us. All too soon Harri was rounding us up for the short walk back to the boat. Getting back into the survival suits, while standing in a small boat, baulked by the bench seating was interesting! We took in the anchors and turned to run the length of the bay and out into open water. Harri again slowed the boat and pointed out geological formations; in this case the strata had been flipped 90 degrees pointing straight up, for all of the world looking like sliced bread. it ran from the sea up the ridge of a mountain range.
We turned into the next bay, more glaciers could be seen in the distance. More scanning for wildlife but unfortunately they were lacking. We came close on the glacier front, perhaps 400 metres away. No landing this time, the sheer cliff of ice stood 40-50 metres high and it’s junction was with the sea. A few small icicles were dropping from an arch of ice in the centre of the glacial face which stretched several hundred metres from west to east shoreline.
Suddenly, more material started to fall, then………. a whole section of glacier ‘melted’ from the face and fell into the sea before our eyes. Not a single camera was ready! A small tidal wave rolled out from the newly exposed aquamarine blue section of glacier, dissipating quickly as it kissed the boat’s hull. our wonder was complete at the scene that had unfolded. All eyes scanned the glacial face in the expectation of further displays but we almost knew we had seen the best of it. From time to time, large ‘pistol’ shots of noise issued from the glacier and all eyes turned in the expectation of further displays. Fingers twitched on camera shutters but we knew it would not happen.
A large flask was pulled out of a rucksac and we were offered up a lunch of beef soup, complete with chilli seasoning and rye bread. Despite it’s simplicity it was warming and appreciated. yet another feast. You ate quickly as the warmth of the food was literally taken away by the cold arctic air. To finish off it was all washed down with ice cold coffee! OK, nothing is perfect and Harri could only just hide his embarrassment by having filled the water flasks from a water urn not being used because of the lack of guests!
Harri started the engine of the boat and we turned 180 degrees and headed across the large mouth of Isjforden to Barentsburg in search of walruses. By now, despite the benefit of the survival suit, I was feeling the cold. My feet were worst, protected as they were by just wellington like boots. These were a tight fit (I’ve always been know for my big feet) and extra pairs of socks had to be left in preference for toe wriggle room. I pulled the zip of the suit close to my face and bowed my head, closing my eyes during the run south. Despite Harri’s best efforts the walruses were as elusive as the polar bears so we turned and made a final run back to the hotel and warmth.
As we pulled up onto the jetty the watery sun of earlier had tuned into patches of blue sky, patterned by high white cloud. I took the opportunity for some more photos around the site, ably protected by Harri and his rifle.
An opportunity for some warming drinks and relaxation before dinner. We were to be offered a fusion of food this evening. The first course was presented on a large wooden block, beautifully arranged spoons of food along with a central pot of meat. We started with Arctic Char marinated in zest and salt. The pot contained reindeer meat, again marinated and accompanied by lingonberries, finally another spoon of Minki whale, a really dark meat, which had been soaked in aquavite. For me, two out of three were great. The whale, laced as it was with a fennel type taste didn’t get me excited, though I did try it.
For the main course a procession of people walked out with a plate full of sliced beef, jars of bernaise, apple and peanut sauce, a plate full of a disc of rosti and oven cooked squash. The 'piece de resistance’ was a large stone block, cradled in a metal basket, sitting atop another wooden block. We were to cook our own dinner! Glorious was the only word. The stone, heated to 300 degrees celsius, seared the meat in seconds, mixed with the other ingredients on a plate it was yet another experience never to be forgotten.
Satiated, we still had the pleasure of chocolate fondant, expertly created with liquid chocolate oozing from it’s centre as the spoon cut in. Paradise.
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