Wednesday, September 9th, 2026

Distance hiked – 5.2 kilometres

What a difference a year can make. It was my birthday and, on the same day one year previously, I had my left knee so comprehensively strapped up, after badly damaging my knee ligaments, that I feared for a time that my future adventuring might be severely curtailed or even ended altogether. Luckily, that was not so. I woke up, stood up on both feet, opened the curtains and watched the harsh cliffs, snow dusted mountains and some of Svalbard’s, seemingly innumerable, glaciers pass by on the shore outside.

I went upstairs for my cups of tea and, as usual, joined my early-rising friend Jo for a chat. She was still lost in wonder at the cornucopia of wildlife treats that fate had seen fit to serve us up the day before although, as a “long” hiker, she had missed our prolonged encounter with the white fox cub. However, her shots of the “dolphin frenzy” were, thanks to her motor-drive, quite spectacular. They even revealed why those hungry dolphins were called “White-beaked” !

I had endeavoured to keep my birthday a bit quiet. Oceanwide naturally had everyone’s records and, already on the cruise, three unfortunates had been given the full birthday treatment at dinner. This had involved loud music, singing, a banner, dancing canteen staff and a chocolate cake. The first four were not for me and I had decided that I could probably forgo the cake in order to avoid them (although the sinuous gyrations of Maria, the most voluptuous of the canteen staff, ARE something to see – from a safe distance). Luckily, a quiet word in the ear of Marleen, the hotel manager, seemed to have done the trick. No money, by the way, changed hands !

We had breakfast with Herman and Elise. They are both Dutch and we have had quite a lot to do with Herman as he is, very much, our type of guy. He already knew it was my birthday and had bought me a fridge magnet as a token of his complete and total disdain. Aldrin, one of the stewards, also wished me a Happy Birthday – but how he knew, I could not even begin to guess.

The Plancius dropped anchor in a wild and bleak bay that was enlivened only by traces of a rainbow.

So, it was back to our cabin for a traumatic moment. As I have remarked already, Lucie and I had finally got fairly good at gearing up for the landings. However, that morning, my foot simply refused to go into my muck boot. I tried several times before I realised that, somehow, I was trying to get my right foot into my left boot. Good Lord, had the notch on the age ladder that I had just clicked up made me senile ? I tried the correct boot, but still no joy. I wiggled my foot and pulled with all my might – it simply would not go on. It was only when I sat back, exhausted, in the chair that I noticed that my white knuckled hand was clutching Lucie’s right muck boot …..

Gashamna

Finally attired in accordance with the regulations, we took the very last Zodiac to the beach. As usual, we joined the faster medium hike, led this time by Chloe and guarded at the back by Marco. Immediately behind the raised beach was a placid lagoon and at the far end of that, there was a dilapidated hut. The hut had a long history, including a part in some, quite literally, world shaping research. 

Originally, it was a British whaling station called Hormsund. The remains of the blubber boilers were still visible and large whale bones still dotted the immediate vicinity. Later though, it served as a base station for the Russian segment of a Russo-Swedish team that, between 1899 and 1902, wanted to determine whether the Earth was perfectly spherical. Today, surely very few of us can be unaware that the Earth is an oblate spheroid (like a ball that someone has sat on), but it was the Arc of Meridian Expedition that proved it. By careful measurement, the expedition proved that one degree of latitude is slightly longer, on the surface, at the Equator, than it is up there in the North. The hut was built from driftwood planks, which oddly were quite plentiful there. Sea currents tended to bring “lost overboard” pre-cut planks from Siberian ports right to the door (which, itself, was made out of driftwood planks). The hut was in a terrible state, it was hard to imagine spending five minutes there, let alone a succession of Arctic Winters.

After being told by Chloe, who we should not forget was carrying a rifle, not to step on any fragile moss, we approached the hut, but approach was all we could do, as it is a protected site (except from the wind, the cold and natural decay). 

There were many more huge whalebones in a small depression beside the hut and these were surrounded by moss that thrives on the mineral goodness that slowly leaches out of them.

Chloe loves small things and, on the underside of a piece of bone, she located some insects ! These were tiny, red, spiders. How they survived in those conditions, who could tell. Possibly by eating each other if times got really tough as they are not, we were informed, above cannibalism ! Taking great care not to step on that moss, or indeed any other green(ish) thing, we moved on across the flat foreshore that was laced with rivulets that emanated from a nearby, landlocked, glacier.

Although there was no rain, across the bay, there was still a picturesque rainbow.

Between us and that glacier, were large mounds of glacial moraine.

Chloe skipped over these like some kind of gallic mountain goat, with us strung out behind her like lost ducklings. It was quite a challenging ascent, as the mounds were a mass of loose stones and boulders, but eventually we were able to join her on the summit. Our reward was to be close to the front of the glacier and high above a wide valley, that had probably been scooped, by the glacier, out of the very rocks and stones upon which we were standing. 

A small lake filled much of the valley floor. Chloe decided that this was a good place for an “Arctic Silence” so we all sat down and we all shut up. A number of gulls chose that moment to descend onto the lake and begin a noisy feeding and splashing session. They were at least a kilometre away but, in the silence, we could hear them as plainly as if we had been on the shore far below.

Then it was time to go back down, so we began what was a slightly perilous descent across the shale.

At our first rest (catch up) stop, one of the fellow hikers wished me a Happy Birthday. How she knew, I had no idea, but the word, as they like to say, was now out. One by one, everyone in the group wished me a Happy Birthday and, once we finally achieved the plain below, they all sang it to me !!! So much for my hopes of sneaking it past them. 

As we trekked back over the long foreshore towards the beach, we came upon a skeleton of a Right whale. This poor beast was not only very big, but it obligingly floated after it had been killed, Blue whales sank. For this reason, it was enthusiastically hunted into extinction in the northern hemisphere. The whalers then moved to the Antarctic and had a good go at doing the same thing down there. Mercifully, they failed. Chloe pointed out the “blow hole” still clearly visible in the top of the skull, after well over a century of laying on that remote piece of beach.

On the final stretch of foreshore before the actual beach, we came upon some enormous footprints in the soft mud. They could only have come from one source –  a Polar Bear. It had definitely walked that way – and not all that long a time before. Chloe declined my suggestion that we should follow the tracks to see the bear. At her urging, we walked smartly back towards the landing site. 

Next to the Zodiacs, a “Polar Plunge II – will you idiots never learn ?” was going on. Intrepid souls who were either masochists, had wimped out in Greenland, or who had just joined the trip, were disrobing and jumping into the sea. The beach was covered in shingle and the wind was strong and cold. Thank goodness, I thought to myself, that I did not have to do that again !

In the wind, the swell was rising fast, so Michelle hurried us to the Zodiacs for the return trip. It was a rough crossing. As Beatrix Potter says in “The Tale Of Peter Rabbit”, “splish, splash – splash, splish”. We all got very wet and, in the gusting wind, our first attempt at reaching the ramp failed – but the second time we made it.

Back on board, it was soon lunchtime and, not having eaten for a few hours, I made my way to the dining room. By chance, I was the very first one there and, to my amazement, the stewards all crowded around me and sang me yet another and a surprisingly melodious, Happy Birthday ! I also got a bonus hug from the lovely Maria ! Even the chef came out and shook my hand – so much for secrecy !

Burgerbukta

In the afternoon, Pippa had planned a Zodiac cruise in Burgerbukta bay. This had some interesting rock formations and ended in a glacier. Lucie had found she got too cold on these cruises, so she retired to her warm bed. I suited up, put on my own muck boots and hit the waves. I was lucky enough to be in a Zodiac with Herman and, in the inlet, there was no wind and the sea was calm. It was not at all cold, I never put on my comedy hat and my gloves, as was usual, stayed in my pockets.

Our driver was Michelle, who had actually lived in Svalbard for 22 years.

She first guided us to a Rock Glacier. This was a mound of ice and rock and which looked more like a huge heap of gravel and dirt than a glacier.  Sadly, the increasingly warm climate is now melting the ice that within the pile, causing it to fracture and partially collapse.

There were several similar and obviously decaying structures along the sides of the inlet. The cliffs towered above these on both sides of the water.

The sheer rock faces had many coloured striations indicating the presence of copper or iron and the seams still bore the convolutions caused by the long-ago collisions of the Tectonic Plates.

In places, evidence of “polishing” caused by glacial contact, were still visible.

The rocks looked solid and unyielding but, at a couple of points, water gushed out from somewhere inside, indicating that, in places, the mountains were fractured or even hollow.

Our progress took us nearer and nearer to the face of the glacier.

We entered a large area of really thick brash ice which indicated that significant calving had taken place fairly recently.

Once or twice our Zodiac got a bit hooked up on large pieces of ice but Michelle, aided once by Herman’s very long legs, dislodged the chunks and deftly guided us towards the wall of ice ahead. Part of the glacier was  a completely different shade of white. This part was actually sitting on land, not on the sea and, as such, was “dead”. The remainder of the ice wall was far bluer in shade and still actively advancing as pieces broke off.

The Plancius was cruising the front of the glacier for the benefit of those not keen to venture out in a Zodiac.

There was a lot of birdlife, mainly young gulls, Kittiwakes and guillemots.

–

We returned to the ship in enough time to take a rest before the recap. Pippa, as usual gave us Plan A, which would hopefully include a landing on the North of Bear Island, to visit the radio/weather station there. This would be followed by either a Zodiac or a ship-based cruise around a bay on the island’s south-eastern tip. Then it would be off to Tromso and that would be it.

Charlotte gave us a quick talk on Reindeer, followed by Koen to tell us about White-Beaked dolphins.

Then it was an excited and breathless talk by Chloe, who had found some unusual plankton in the waters of the bay. These were cleverly projected onto the screen via a microscope and swam around with an enthusiasm that almost rivalled Chloe’s own.

Then, as usual, it was dinner time. To celebrate my birthday, Lucie had ordered an alcohol-free champagne which we shared with Elise. I bought Herman a beer.

After dinner, Herman and I had a beer in the bar, which was a first. We watched Ijsfjord slowly recede out of sight.

We left it at that however, as we had another early start in the morning and the siren call of my bed had become quite loud.