In the pack ice off of Edgeøya, The Svalbard Archipelago
After a smooth and comfortable overnight crossing from Bear Island (Bjornøya), we have reached the Svalbard Archipelago. There can be no doubt: we are in the Arctic now. After a morning visit to the Norwegian weather station on long, thin Hopen Island we headed north to enter the ice. Cold currents coming down from the northeast pack the remnants of the winter pack ice against the east coast of Edge Island (Edgeøya). Wrapped in multiple layers of warm clothing heretofore unused, we gathered on the foredeck as Captain Lampe and Ice Master Skog guided our ship into the ice. It is mesmerizing to gaze down and watch the bow of our ship slice through the ice. But all eyes were most definitely not directed downward. The flag on the bow identifies our quarry, whose name, tradition holds, will not be uttered until the large, furry white beast has been spotted. Binoculars scan across the ice, looking for an ivory-colored spot standing in contrast to the pure white of the ice and snow. Sleep is deferred, as we continue our watch in the light of the midnight sun. Before the night is over, I am happy to report, we have seen the monarch of the Arctic ice. We have seen the Polar Bear!
After a smooth and comfortable overnight crossing from Bear Island (Bjornøya), we have reached the Svalbard Archipelago. There can be no doubt: we are in the Arctic now. After a morning visit to the Norwegian weather station on long, thin Hopen Island we headed north to enter the ice. Cold currents coming down from the northeast pack the remnants of the winter pack ice against the east coast of Edge Island (Edgeøya). Wrapped in multiple layers of warm clothing heretofore unused, we gathered on the foredeck as Captain Lampe and Ice Master Skog guided our ship into the ice. It is mesmerizing to gaze down and watch the bow of our ship slice through the ice. But all eyes were most definitely not directed downward. The flag on the bow identifies our quarry, whose name, tradition holds, will not be uttered until the large, furry white beast has been spotted. Binoculars scan across the ice, looking for an ivory-colored spot standing in contrast to the pure white of the ice and snow. Sleep is deferred, as we continue our watch in the light of the midnight sun. Before the night is over, I am happy to report, we have seen the monarch of the Arctic ice. We have seen the Polar Bear!
