Wahlenbergfjorden, Nordaustlandet & Hinlopen Strait
National Geographic Endeavour journeyed north up Hinlopen Strait, the passage between the islands of Spitsbergen and Nordaustlandet in Svalbard, seeking pack ice and polar bears. A walrus on ice reminded us of our place on the globe. In Palanderbukta deep within Wahlenberg Fjord cut out of Nordaustlandet's west coast, we found reprieve from fog. One of the northern hemisphere's only ice caps was visible above the island's glaciated shores, katabatic combers sweeping over sculpted headlands. We explored glacial faces and floating ice formations by Zodiac. Eiders, guillemots, gulls and bearded seals made appearances. With a little ingenuity, our expedition team improvised a hearty ‘long hike’ over the barren glacial landscape. Hikers earned their lunch climbing up over a headland, over tundra and past fields of Svalbard poppies and fossil-laden scree down to the next valley and a lonely hut where they were repatriated by Zodiac from the Arctic wilds to the comfort of the ship.
The overcast and fog of the previous days gracefully dissolved contributing to what was to become a sublime afternoon. Mountain faces with tamped-in snow patterns made impressive reflections as the sun glimmered brilliantly on perfectly flat water between numerous ice floes. Between master spotter Sir Richard White and our visiting National Geographic Expert Paul Nicklen up in the crow’s nest, we found every bear in that shimmering Arctic seascape – four in total. It’s not quantity, but quality that’s important, and we were not denied.
Two of the beautiful creamy white creatures of the north approached shipside, swimming and sniffing their way to floes beside us. With exceptional ship handling by Captain Leif Skog, exceptionally quiet behavior on deck by guests, exceptional weather and exceptionally curious behavior by the polar bears, we were privileged to eye-to-eye encounters with mythical beasts. It is almost as if they did not exist; they would have to be created as whimsies of fantasy. One bear audibly scratched the ice on the floe on which it stood below our bow. At that point, the only complaint was that the bear was too close, at too tight an angle to see, rendering unnecessary the arsenal of mega-lenses around our necks. As brief as the intimate visits may or may not have been, time becoming irrelevant, we were imprinted with an experience of wild beauty that becomes a new reference point in our lives.
National Geographic Endeavour journeyed north up Hinlopen Strait, the passage between the islands of Spitsbergen and Nordaustlandet in Svalbard, seeking pack ice and polar bears. A walrus on ice reminded us of our place on the globe. In Palanderbukta deep within Wahlenberg Fjord cut out of Nordaustlandet's west coast, we found reprieve from fog. One of the northern hemisphere's only ice caps was visible above the island's glaciated shores, katabatic combers sweeping over sculpted headlands. We explored glacial faces and floating ice formations by Zodiac. Eiders, guillemots, gulls and bearded seals made appearances. With a little ingenuity, our expedition team improvised a hearty ‘long hike’ over the barren glacial landscape. Hikers earned their lunch climbing up over a headland, over tundra and past fields of Svalbard poppies and fossil-laden scree down to the next valley and a lonely hut where they were repatriated by Zodiac from the Arctic wilds to the comfort of the ship.
The overcast and fog of the previous days gracefully dissolved contributing to what was to become a sublime afternoon. Mountain faces with tamped-in snow patterns made impressive reflections as the sun glimmered brilliantly on perfectly flat water between numerous ice floes. Between master spotter Sir Richard White and our visiting National Geographic Expert Paul Nicklen up in the crow’s nest, we found every bear in that shimmering Arctic seascape – four in total. It’s not quantity, but quality that’s important, and we were not denied.
Two of the beautiful creamy white creatures of the north approached shipside, swimming and sniffing their way to floes beside us. With exceptional ship handling by Captain Leif Skog, exceptionally quiet behavior on deck by guests, exceptional weather and exceptionally curious behavior by the polar bears, we were privileged to eye-to-eye encounters with mythical beasts. It is almost as if they did not exist; they would have to be created as whimsies of fantasy. One bear audibly scratched the ice on the floe on which it stood below our bow. At that point, the only complaint was that the bear was too close, at too tight an angle to see, rendering unnecessary the arsenal of mega-lenses around our necks. As brief as the intimate visits may or may not have been, time becoming irrelevant, we were imprinted with an experience of wild beauty that becomes a new reference point in our lives.
