The mixed emotions of glacier watching

The amazing textures of glaciers

There is something incredible to feel the absolute power and emanating cold of a glacier. Even being a couple of hundred metres from the glacier face, you can feel the cold. You also get lost in the texture and lines and changes in the ice – smooth ice turns into huge jagged shards and then somehow folds into mini mountain ranges of solid ice before blocks and shards loom over the rocks and strip of sand at the front of the glacier.

But this strip of sand tells a whole other story of the glacier.

It shows a glacier in retreat. Drawing back from the sea, shortening, retreating up the mountain as its mass reduces. And Svalbard’s glaciers are melting at an alarming rate – nearly all of them have shrunk significantly in recent years. And the record-breaking summer heat in August hasn’t helped at all.

Being so close to these majestic glaciers fills you with awe, the knowledge they are dissappearing so rapidly fills you with a mix of immense sadness and anger.

To discover so much more about glaciers, follow @heidisevestre – she is incredible.

Beautiful night skies

Apparently I slept soundly underneath the northern lights out on the trek…
Given the one thing I really want to see is the dancing lights, I am constantly scanning the forecasts and skies now that night has properly arrived.

Tonight wasn’t to be the night for the northern lights, but what an amazing sky.

And stars.

Of course the stars mostly look all jumbled up here and there are few constellations I recognise, most of them being upside down and all. But the billions of stars in the sky are so brilliantly clear. [As are the arcs of the satellites that constantly trace lines across the sky – another thing I hadn’t expected here…]

If it is still a little while until I see Nordlys, these sort of skies will keep me happy. And outside for hours under the night skies.

One of my favourite places

When I arrived in Longyearbyen I bought a Svalbard Museum pass and have now visited seven times – which I think almost makes me a local [yeaaaah, I wish].

The museum is incredibly beautifully designed and so interesting.

It is hard to miss the massive polar bear in the middle of the exhibition space, but the real treat is the ‘northern lights’ that randomly flicker across the wall high above. They pulse and fade and are almost as elusive as the real thing.

Each of the exhibits are beautifully realised and reveal so much amazing history of this place. And possibly its future.

One of the most sobering exhibits highlights the huge impact of climate change on sea temperatures and the fish species in the waters around Svalbard. The Atlantic species who prefer warmer water are moving in to waters further north along the west and north of Svalbard, pushing the Arctic fish into smaller areas in the colder water to the east.

A little tour around Longyearbyen and Nybyen

I thought it was time to show you a little of the town of Longyearbyen and the ‘suburb’ of Nybyen, wedged as they are in between impressively jagged mountains to the east and west and a glacier and a spectacular fjord to the south and north. I love this place.

The red building on the right hand side with the lights on is the Spitsbergen Kunstnersenter and home for another six or so weeks. Although I suspect I may be wishing that it was much longer…

Polar bear alert!!

Polar bear alert!!
[not an alert for a picture of a bear on this post, but an actual 'bear in the area' alert... but I am getting ahead of myself.]

The third day of the trek started as sunny and still as the first two, although with portentous clouds gathering on the tops of the surrounding peaks. The temperature had dropped noticeably and the light had a false warmth to it.

There was less steep climbing up on the way back out, although what there was was made slightly trickier by the ice that now covered the rocks. Crystals had formed on rocks and mossy ground cover, giving the appearance of frost flowers.

The steep downhill sections that had been lung-busting on the way up were now a delicate balance of rocky path selection and defying the vertigo-inducing view that was included with each step. And if gravity works against you as you try to climb up, it tries to propel you ever faster downhill. In some places it was equal parts exhilarating and terrifying.

The longer we walked, the more ominous the clouds became. As we reached the valley for the home stretch it started to snow. Gently at first, and then the wind increased with some intent – and there is very little cover to stop the wind picking up speed and blowing straight through you.

It was around this point that Emma the guide was pinged with a 'polar bear in the area' alert.

Up until now the slight thrill of 'this is polar bear territory', and the fact Emma had a rifle slung over her shoulder for polar bear protection, had seemed a little academic. But now, here we were in an open valley, and an animal that is waaaay faster than me in any kind of sprint, middle distance or marathon race was close by. I think the sweaty palms were not entirely from the effort of the hike. I was in her back yard and very happy not to intrude further upon her space.

We didn't see her, and hopefully she didn't see us. Humans are having enough impact on her world without her having to see another one.

Don’t know… how easy would it be to spot an isbjørn here…?

*Update: When polar bears get a little too close to Longyearbyen the governor sends up a helicopter to ‘encourage’ them to move on and away from town. This bear was close enough for people on top of the Uni to film her chasing reindeer. The helicopter pushed her further up Adventdalen, away from town… but also closer to the valley we were walking out… thanks Nastassja for this very comforting piece of information…

Conversation with a glacier

I hadn't expected that parts of a glacier would just push up like sharp little mountain ranges, exposing so many layers and colours, revealing part of the history of her life. For some reason I was also surprised at how many rivulets and tiny [or not so tiny] valleys scarred the surface. There were so many perfect crack lines running crossways over the ice, evidence of the pressure she was under. On a rare sunny and completely still arctic day the sounds of the glacier shifting, readjusting and seemingly breathing, were easily heard – sometimes loud cracks and rumbles, sometimes sighs. The beauty and delicacy, the strength and the fragility of the glacier were incredible.

Not so incredible, the sound of glacier melt water dripping and catching in small trickles, then becoming louder, growing in volume to constant streams of running water. This is late September, this should not be happening.

The ridges and valleys in the glacier are metres high

I didn't know glacier's could rust

I also hadn’t expected there to be so much dark material on the top of the glacier – in this sunshine and warmth the small pieces of shale-type rock trap the heat to add more heat and stress to the glacier.

Arctic wilderness

One of the most brilliant experiences has been trekking way out into the arctic wilderness.

It’s only the beginning…

Around six hours after setting out, walking across the tundra, scrambling over and up rocky inclines, crossing icy not-yet-frozen rivers, watching the last flocks of geese flying south for the winter, spotting snow buntings who were leaving their flight south a little late, climbing up steep mountain passes, lazing while enjoying hot drinks and chocolate in the sunshine, definitely not looking down in some places, absolutely looking down in others while looking for fossils, juggling the beauty of the open spaces with knowing it could be polar bear territory, trying to balance the warmth of sun and effort with the freezing temperatures when in the shadows, navigating which icy patches really were frozen and which ones were luring the uninformed into icy water, noticing the delicacy of the arctic flowers and lichens, being surprised at the fragility of some of the rocks, enjoying the challenge of up, up and further upwards towards a ridge that never seemed to get closer, stepping from one rock to another, trusting foot placements while also trying to defy gravity, trying to keep up with sure-footed dogs and a nimble guide, and revelling – finally – in the down hill that opened into this amazing valley. And reaching the cabin that would be home for two nights – but not without one more suspenseful river crossing. Many thanks to Emma the wonder guide, and Prikken and Eura the wonder dogs.

Out in the Arctic wilderness

There's a bear in there...

Another day out on the water, being totally mesmerised by the landscape and the ever shifting light and colour.

Just the day you could really use a stronger zoom lens…

But today there was something even more thrilling than these massive landscapes. Watching a polar bear chasing reindeer.

Svalbard reindeer are generally very chill and not usually taken to doing their best Catherine Freeman impersonations... unless close behind them is a massive isbjørn [ice bear]. It seems that polar bears are investigating new food sources in the non-winter months as temperatures rise and food becomes more scarce – and reindeer are now on the alert. The chase happened across the lower ground just above the shoreline.

There was no luck for the polar bear this day. After a short burst of activity she decided to cut her losses and rest in the sun once the race was obviously lost.

I really, really want a stronger zoom lens…

Confusing autumn colours

The arctic is still surprising with its vibrant colours – but they are changing, and rapidly so is the light. The days are noticeably shorter and the light now comes in from a much lower angle.

No longer do you wake up to bright skies, absolutely sure that it is time to get up and bounce into the day – only to discover it is 4am...

Cloud watching

Sometimes the clouds roll in in a long line down the length of valley, but not at the top of the mountain – they are incredible. Coal mining structures disappear and appear from the clouds.

Looooong clouds

It is actually quite warm...

I am starting to rethink the amount of clothes I have brought with me. True, there have been some very chilly breezes, especially when out on the water and when the wind howls down off the glacier, but on sunny days like this one it is warm. Not just ‘warm for the arctic’ but actually warm. August was the hottest month on record for Longyearbyen with a couple of days reaching 20°. By some measures of what defines the arctic [a monthly average temperature below +10°C] Longyearbyen was above that benchmark with an average of 11°.

What's the time Mr. Ulv...?

Even though ‘midnight sun’ has ended and the sun does dip below the horizon, since I have arrived the night doesn’t get at all dark. 10pm, 2am, 4am… they all look surprisingly similar when I look out the window [this is the view from my room].

Sometimes it is quite hard to tell what the time is…

Obtrusive honesty

So, what are those pipes that are everywhere in Longyearbyen...?

The simple answer is utilities – water and sewer pipes that also have, I am guessing this next bit, electrical and comms wires piggy-backing along.

Because of the permafrost here [which is getting a little less permanent and also less frosty] all of the pipes are above ground, and quite often on wooden platforms.

I have grown to really like them, the way they insist on having their space in the landscape – importantly, honestly and obtrusively.

Absolute beach weather

Maybe I should have done a lot more research on the weather in Longyearbyen in September because I had not expected a perfect beach day with barely a ripple on the water.

It looks perfect for paddleboarding

Another glacier visit

This is the amazing Tunabreen.

Tunabreen with its lovely blue ice against the milky chocolate coloured water.

To get here I caught the fast hybrid speedboat Kvitbjørn. One of the big differences between the speedboat and bigger boats was the rolling motion so disliked by seedy-feeling non-sailors was replaced by a regular thump as we hit the waves at pace. This for some reason seems more acceptable. The increase in speed also means increase in wind chill, and today was already several notches colder than it had been.

As we stealthily glided toward the glacier with the quiet electric motors running, there was a strange sound coming from the water. Glacier ice is packed with tiny air bubbles trapped inside, so as the floating ice is exposed to sea water and melts, the air in the bubbles is released – popping in a melodic chorus.

Not so melodic is the thunder rumble and crash of massive chunks of glacial ice calving and hitting the water, sending bits flying and sending out sizable waves.

The glacier calving, with massive slabs of ice crashing into the water.

New snow and no heating

Today was the first crispy new snow since arriving. While it stayed higher in the mountains, it did add a coolness to the air. It also coincided with the third day of works on the heating system in Nybyen – and by works, I mean the switching off of the heating system so repairs/upgrades could be made. Any residual heat in the pipes had long gone. No probs, it is all part of adventures in the arctic. And the fine people of Svalbardenergi made speedy repairs so the warmth returned by mid afternoon to help thaw frosty fingers and toes.

Snow on the mountaintops across the fjord from Longyearbyen