I received a stellar invitation from my friend Sunniva to join her on an extraordinary excursion to the rooftop of our planet! Destination: Longyearbyen, Svalbard.
What’s that? This is the first you have heard of this elusive place. No worries—most people haven’t. It is situated so far north that you wouldn’t expect anyone to travel there, let alone live there. Let me give you some perspective...
Svalbard is an archipelago belonging to Norway. It was discovered by Dutch Explorer Willem Barentsz in 1596. The Barents Sea, which surrounds it, was named after him. Upon his discovery, he found it teeming with walruses and whales so extraordinary that sailing ships bumped into them while crossing the waters of Svalbard. Unfortunately, that claim led to several hundred years of overfishing sea species and overhunting land animals, including polar bears, Arctic Foxes, and Reindeer.
Longyearbyen is located on the island of Spitsbergen, which hosts 2,500 inhabitants. It is the world’s northernmost inhabited town. It is approximately 1,300 kilometers from the North Pole—for better perspective, it is located at 78 degrees latitude, and the North Pole is at 90 degrees. Almost all expeditions to the North Pole begin their journey from Longyearbyen. My journey began in Arizona; I traveled over 42 hours for three days to reach this frozen paradise deep in the Polar Arctic.
This solitary island is skirted in fjords, contains over 1,000 glaciers covering 60% of the archipelago, and houses more polar bears than residents. It’s no surprise that nearly everyone around town is slinging a rifle or packing hand-cannon; stepping outside town means entering polar bear territory, and it’s actually the law to pack heat!
Svalbard is a land of extremes: It is so far north that it experiences 125 days of midnight sun and 112 days of polar night. That’s four months of continuous daylight, four months of unyielding darkness, and four months of mix; it doesn’t get more extreme than this on planet Earth.
More than its extremes, Longyearbyen is home to some amazing facts. It houses the global seed vault (aka Doomsday Vault). When countries are at war, they send their seeds to safeguard them—an insurance policy for our planet.
- There are no native people of Svalbard.
- No one is allowed to be born there, and no one is allowed to be buried there.
- Svalbard is an Arctic desert.
- You can see the northern lights during the day.
- Polar bears roam from Svalbard to Russia.
- There are far too many facts to list, but this will spark your interest to seek more.
Now, onto the heart and reason for my expedition: Sunniva Sorby!
She’s why I found myself on this adventure—okay, and maybe a hefty dose of curiosity and my neverending thirst for worldly exploration!
Sunniva is a friend of mine and is an extraordinary force of nature. She is an expedition leader, historian, author, guide, citizen scientist, and a Royal Canadian Geographical Society fellow. Sunniva has skied across the Greenland icecap, across the frigid King George Island, across Antarctica, and to the South Pole. She reached the South Pole on January 14, 1993, as a member of the first women’s team under the leadership of Ann Bancroft to do so. Yeah, she’s the definition of one Badass Woman!
Together with Norwegian Hilde Fålun Strøm, she co-founded Hearts in the ice, a project dedicated to climate change awareness. They were the first women to overwinter for 19 months in Svalbard's Polar Arctic. This entire period was spent at Bamsebu, an old whaler’s hut that measures just 20 square meters. The cabin is located in a remote place where once you get dropped off in autumn, no one is coming for you until the fjord ice has melted, and a ship can get in late spring or early summer. Unfortunately, they never planned for a global epidemic to arise during their stay. This saga led from a planned 9-month stay to a year-and-a-half odyssey! Discover their incredible journey at Heartsintheice.com.
So, now you know the place and the reason, and here is the why:
Sunniva invited me to join their annual return to document the impacts of climate change through photography, capturing the breathtaking beauty of this wild region. Svalbard is a crucial bellwether for global warming. It is warming five times faster than the global average, putting iconic species like the polar bear at risk. This trip would be their final trip to celebrate their accomplishment and the final journey aboard the MS Nordstjernen in Arctic waters—the vessel built for polar exploration. This is the same ship that dropped them off at the beginning of their journey five years ago, and we are now aboard its final voyage in the Arctic.
The MS Nordstjernen is named after the North Star, or Stella Polaris, famous for helping seafarers such as the Vikings find their way home and navigate the north.
This amazing vessel was constructed in 1956 in Hamburg, Germany, and is the oldest operational ship in the Hurtigruten fleet. In 2012, Norway protected her as a national heritage. It retains the aura of an old Atlantic ship; with a rich history and artwork valued more than the ship itself, this vessel was an essential part of our journey.
Aboard our ship was a handpicked group of scientists, activists, artists, and teachers united by the mission to witness the Arctic’s beauty and raise awareness about its crisis. As we sail southward on the Nordstjernen, the landscape reveals rocky outcrops that are barren of almost all plant life. There are no trees or bushes. The only sign of plant life is patches of green tundra, which are only there because the migration of summer birds is fertilizing them. Yes, poop mounds produce the occasional stubborn patches of Saxifrage, which flowers in mid-September. The only other plant life you see is moss, lichen, and polar fungi. This minuscule vegetation is known as Arctic Tundra and is typical of this area.
Okay, so there are Trees. Well... kind of... They stand one inch tall and are polar willow trees. Polar willow trees are among the most miniature trees in the world—each a testament to resilience in this unforgiving land. Permafrost starts just a couple of inches down and does not allow the growth of typical trees and plants; the environment is too harsh for them to grow.
As our ship sailed through many fjords, passing endless miles of massive blue glaciers, their stark beauty was contrasted by the dark, jagged peaks and the warming waters that waited beneath. The towering cliffs echo the cries of seabirds and the occasional thunder of ice calving into the ocean.
We silently drift into bays littered with obscure floating chunks of ice, listening as they crackle and pop like a bowl of rice crispies after you pour on the milk. It’s a symphony of cries as they slowly melt and drift out of their bays into warmer waters—a cruel sendoff of their ancient existence. Standing beside the bridge adjacent to the captain, I draped myself over the ship’s edge to photograph this once-in-a-lifetime scene. Gazing out beyond the floating icefield, I was suddenly overrun with emotions, torn between Mother Nature’s majestic glacier beauty and the sadness of their departed deathly drift.
To view more photos of polar wildlife and landscapes, click here
The following day, I spoke at length with Siegert, Hildes’ husband, who has lived in this region for over 40 years. He talked about the changes he’d witnessed: the receding glaciers and the disappearing sea ice. His slow, methodic explanation of how “The Arctic is dying” laminated me with heavy sorrow. In his thick Norwegian accent, he states that twenty years ago, these bays froze over in winter, and now they rarely do. I am watching it all disappear...
A sense of urgency flooded my body as the Nordstjernen steered northbound. On board, our global group is reminded of the devastating consequences of Svalbard’s fragile Arctic climate. With time surging, we want to share our experiences, inspire action, and demand a more sustainable future. The final voyage of the MS Nordstjernen in Arctic waters was a poignant reminder that the Arctic is not just a distant land but an ecosystem connected to every corner of the globe.
Let’s improve what we do, use less, and care more.
Onward to the Border of Russia and the Norwegian Fjords
The second stage of my journey began by being crammed into the back bench seat of a small prop plane full of Norwegians and Russian-speaking patrons soaring low over Norway’s northern expanse. I landed in Kirkenes, a small town nestled at the extreme northeastern edge of Norway, bordering Russia and Finland.
After walking the town and wheeziness off, I feasted on Reindeer, lingonberries, and local brew; I boarded a modern ship that would set sail for 2,500 nautical miles down Norway’s stunning coast and to the southern port city of Bergen. This rugged fjord journey on frigid waters would span six full days and nights.
This Norwegian coastal route sails through a maze of breathtaking fjords, each more beautiful than the last. It offers a unique blend of natural beauty, deep blue waters, adventure, and cultural richness that covers almost the entire length of Norway.
Along my journey, we docked at 34 ports, where time was measured in brief moments to load and unload goods while locals bustled about. The Havilia ship I was on was one of 11 ships that sailed up and down the entire coastline. It partners with Norway to support goods, services, locals and tourist exchanges. This state-of-the-art ship was built just two years ago in Turkey. It is the most eco-friendly ship on the Norwegian Coastal route and is powered by liquid natural gas & batteries, which cuts emissions by 35 %.
Cruising along the beautiful coast, I gaze at many colorful wooden buildings speckled along the fjords; I ask a local why they look alike. Is it a Norwegian style for them to look like boathouses? No, he sternly stated! The German military occupied Norway in World War Two; upon their departure, they used a scorched earth policy to burn and destroy homes, schools, churches, and hospitals. The Norwegians rebuilt using the cheapest, most cost-effective means possible, becoming the style we see today.
Several days later, just as sunset painted the sky, the long-awaited announcement rang out: “You can now see the Northern Lights; please proceed to a viewing deck.”
We gathered sparsely across the three decks, each of us dwarfed by the vast, inky expanse of the night sky. As we planted our feet firmly on the wooden planks, our breath caught in our throats; the heavens erupted into a breathtaking display of vibrant greens and purples, swirling and undulating like ethereal ribbons of light. I surrendered to the moment, reclining on the deck, utterly enchanted, as the celestial spectacle enveloped me. Life, I mused, is all about positioning—sometimes it aligns perfectly, placing you in the heart of magic.
The ship glided silently over the Norwegian Sea, its hull slicing through the dark, rippling waters, creating a grand illusion against the backdrop of rugged fjords. Each wave seemed to frame the living canvas overhead, pulsating with life.
The scattered strangers around me joined in a symphony of gasps and murmurs as if we were all participants in Nature’s Orgy. Time seemed to stretch and bend; I watched in disbelief as the lights pulsed and danced, tiny specks of color shooting past like the whispers of alien spirits. Oh my God! This couldn’t possibly be real! Was I reliving a hallucinogenic journey from the ‘80s? I could hardly grasp the beauty before me; the brakes of reality loosened as I soared alongside the ethereal ribbons overhead.
The shimmering waves of light cascaded across the sky, flickering like electric rainbow sheets that bent and pulsated in rhythm with an unseen heartbeat. The colors gleaned into purple, green, and white curtains that felt like a celestial tapestry woven by the universe itself. My mind was racing, and my senses were overwhelmed; I struggled to reconcile this otherworldly display with reality. I stood there, utterly gobsmacked, a witness to a magnificent show that seemed to be for my eyes alone.
Well, I won’t be sleeping tonight! It’s a good thing the bar is still open on the top deck ’cause it’s gonna take a few to celebrate this night. The aurora borealis lights have faded to dim, but the night is still alive and thriving with chatter, engaging strangers, and a fervent of Holly F’cks! Let’s cheer again! Yes, I'll have another!
The stars shimmered brightly overhead as I meandered onto the deck, weaving my way through the night with a tipsy gait. Wide awake in my cabin, I found myself reflecting on how this adventure was drawing to a close, each moment a staccato note in the symphony of my journey. These vivid memories and connections felt like treasures that would last a cosmic lifetime. A wave of nostalgia washed over me, a bittersweet recognition that I had been transformed by this experience. I had stood witness to the stark reality of the Arctic’s decline, yet I had also marveled at the breathtaking spectacle of nature’s celestial dance. It felt like being on both ends of the spectrum at the same time. Indeed, I was riding a chromatic wave, and what an exhilarating ride it had been!
For more photos of the Norwegian fjords, click here
Nature, you always draw me in and leave me craving more!
To view more photos of this area than shown here, venture onto my site by clicking EFlattVisualart.com and check out the section of Arizona, Sycamore Falls.