We saw these bears between supper and dessert. Our time with them was the perfect ending to an incredible first day. In the dining room, at my table, we were talking about hockey. Then I felt the energy in the dining room lift. People were leaving; some of them were running. "Polar bear," I heard, and this time with a cub.
By the time I grabbed my jacket and binos and arrived on the bow, the bears were running towards us over the ice. At first, the cub trotted next to mum, then took a left turn out on its own before slowing, looking up at all of us looking down, and dashing back to mum's side. The female continued slowly, sometimes sliding her front legs apart and testing the ice. I think over 100 of us held our breath while the duo wandered across our bow, only spitting distance away. When the bear turned to leave, we stayed glued to the action. Little bear slid on his belly, climbed a berm of ice and slid down the other side, then lay on his back and stretched his hind legs to the sky. Mum kept a steady pace, stopping once to hunch by a hole in the ice before carrying on.
The experience was foretold by Captain Skog. You see, we'd had a fabulous day already. It stared with a polar bear on a fresh kill, followed immediately by walrus. After lunch we entered the fjords under a blue sky that printed the mountain's reflections on the sea. We walked ashore and watched kittiwakes wheel above us—thousands sat on cliff nests overhead.
At the Captain's Welcome before supper, Leif Skog reviewed the fabulous day and said that when the bar starts high there is only one thing to do: raise it higher. Enter mother polar bear and her cub.
