The edges of Storfjorden, Svalbard
A beam of light filtered through the clouds to illuminate the empty sea. It waxed and waned and moved from bow to starboard as if it were a searchlight seeking the secret of the deep. To our eyes there was only vacant space. In the pewter light that remained after it flickered away the world was silver. A charcoal line defined the horizon and the sky above was no more than smudges of varying shades of gray. Platters of white were scattered like pieces of a puzzle tossed upon a metal table that periodically reflected gold and then pale yellow. Freemansundet was wrapped in a gauzy veil revealing little of itself. Retreating to Sorfjorden we found the sun and set out seeking adventure.
Warmth bounced off the soft sedimentary rocks of Edgeøya, the island at the edge. It gathered on the palisades of the doleritic sill high above Rosenbergdalen and settled in a lush green valley on the shores of a gushing stream. In spite of the summery feel and carpets of the colorful blossoms of spring, evidence of freezing temperatures was in abundance. Mats of Dryas defined depressions around tundra polygons. Frost boils pocked the land like scabs and rivulets collected on boggy ground waiting to trap the unwary in their passage. Caribou grazed peacefully, new antlers sheathed in velvet while skeletal castaway racks of years gone by lay upon the soil. Ancient bones of whales defined shorelines of the past, each older era farther from the tide line of today. We reveled in the beauty and surprising plenitude of life until another presence made his appearance quite nearby. We give way to polar bears as a general rule and when this one declared the island as his own we vacated rapidly.
Ice draws us like a giant magnet. It grinds down valleys terminating in towering fractured faces that periodically crumble into the sea. It floats in platters, remnants of the winter not long past. In places the land still holds the edges fast and it is here on the western side of Storfjorden that we discovered we are not the only life attracted to this unique white plain. Kittiwakes whirled about swooping down to scoop up polar cod or other delicacies served up as the ice floes splintered and drifted apart. Ringed seals were scattered here and there looking more like blackened grains of rice. They seemed to lounge quite unconcernedly but danger was lurking everywhere. As the fast ice shrinks, the supermarket constricts and large carnivores that might not usually be tolerant of the presence of others of their kind relax their zones of comfort just a tad. The morning had taught us well and our polar bear search image had become ingrained so well that in the next four hours fifteen bears had been discovered.
After the ursine excitement, the swirling whirlpools of Heleysundet seemed quite tame in spite of the navigational challenge. And here there was more to celebrate. We made it through. The ice pulled back and our circumnavigation of the island of Spitzbergen is assured.
