The long cir­cum­na­vi­ga­ti­on of Spits­ber­gen with SV Anti­gua is always an important mile­stone in peak sea­son. This is the case even when the trip turns out not to be a cir­cum­na­vi­ga­ti­on. Ins­tead, at some point we had to con­ti­nue the oppo­si­te way. Not only does this sound bet­ter than going back, but it is quite true. This point was rea­ched at the ice edge in sou­thern Hin­lo­pen, whe­re it beca­me obvious for ever­y­bo­dy who was the­re that a sai­ling ship, and actual­ly any ves­sel other than the very stron­gest ones, would not con­ti­nue any fur­ther that way. But think of all we would have missed had things gone any other way! The wha­les far out on open sea, the Litt­le auks in Hyt­te­vi­ka … to men­ti­on just to events that cross my mind very spon­ta­neous­ly.

Click on thumb­nail to open an enlar­ged ver­si­on of the spe­ci­fic pho­to.

The polar bear in Raud­fjord that appeared exact­ly whe­re I had picked up the last ones just minu­tes ear­lier. The colours of the tun­dra, full with count­less flowers, sur­pri­se mee­tings with sci­en­tists … not to men­ti­on the three polar bears, not rela­ted, who hap­pen­ed to be all in the same place, on the ice of the lagoon of Mus­ham­na, fol­lo­wing their indi­vi­du­al ways for hours, mee­ting occa­sio­nal­ly for moments, kee­ping a watchful eye on one ano­ther. No human will ever know what a polar bear real­ly thinks of any other polar bear. Usual­ly, they will tre­at each other with respect and be rather careful. We were bles­sed with an oppor­tu­ni­ty to obser­ve that for the best parts of a memo­rable day.