Thursday, June 30, 2016

Northern Spitsbergen: Fuglefjorden between 79 and 80 degrees North Latitudes for Zodiac cruise and kayaking in morning

Morning zodiac: Magnus steers deftly around the bergy bits and growlers, and it’s hard to keep my eyes off this gorgeous brash ice. These chunks of Svitjodbreen Glacier are making a veritable symphony, sometimes little hisses and pops like Rice Krispies, other times booming and cracking as enormous slabs of the glacier crash into the sound. It’s amazing and beautiful, but my gosh—heartbreaking when you stop and remember that this is the Arctic ice melting before our very eyes, clear evidence of the climate change which threatens the polar bears and all the other living things that depend on the ice for survival.

Walrus swim nearby, a mother and her calf, popping up every now and then in no spot that my inexperienced eye can predict. I stretch out on the Zodiac’s bow to see if I can catch them surfacing from a dive, but they are far too wise to venture close.

From a distance, as I look toward the glacier’s face, several of the Zodiaks seem to be mere meters from the calving, at least enough to splash them, but it’s hard to judge distances. The glacier dwarfs everything in the fjord. Our sensible Swedish pilot admires from a distance. He turns off the motor and I record the brash ice glimmering past us. (Listen below!)

Kayak:  I kayak with an Australian guest who handles the stern with grace and humor. It’s windy and there’s a strong current driving us away from the ship, but we handle it well enough to avoid needing a tow, and it’s a ton of fun to be so close to the ice. We play it safe as we approach icebergs, staying away at a distance 3x the height of the ice.

 

More wildlife: After lunch, the watch crew sights a polar bear on a spit of land on Amsterdam Island, a 17th-18th century Dutch whaling site where we’d planned to go hiking in the afternoon. We’re all excited, but as we study her a sickening feeling rises in my throat. Doug, a seasoned naturalist from Alaska, whispers that she is the skinniest bear he’s ever seen, her pelvic girdle visible. We watch her make her way steadily, warily, hungrily toward a small group of walruses along a spit of land (Dinner? Please don’t! You won’t survive!). After a good half hour, she stops, then turns away from them, wisely thinking better of it. I’m definitely rooting for Team Polar Bear on this one. Bears remember when and where they have found food in the past, and will walk or swim for hundreds of miles, but this old girl doesn’t look strong enough to run or swim a 5K.

Long hike: In light of the bear sighting, our afternoon hike destination changes to Bjornfjorden, an amazing beach with rich lichens, flowers, “tortured rocks,” as our geologist Michael Wysession remarks, and even sea urchins and scallop shells dropped by birds. We have to scramble carefully over the rocks to enjoy a magnificent view from the rise, and it’s like the Presidential Range of New Hampshire’s White Mountains with rock tripe lichen on steroids.We come upon a deadfall trap, abandoned long ago, judging by the square-headed nails.

 

It’s our last hike in Svalbard and the evening fog matches my mood as we pull through Sorgattet Strait toward Greenland. How could Greenland ever match the beauty of Svalbard?