SVALBARD 78°59’30.4”N 20°18’21.3”E
AMANDA MORRISON
“Such power and presence, and an indescribable majestic beauty.”
arriving in svalbard for the first time , I felt immediately transported to another world. One I had only ever dreamed of: a magical and ephemeral land of ice and snow, sparkling and glistening all day and all night under the midnight sun. Black jagged peaks pierce through a seemingly endless landscape of whites, and icebergs bob along in water that is the deepest of blues and stretches far beyond the horizon. And somewhere out there, the mighty polar bear roams. There is so much life in the far north, yet the silence is immense. I spent many moments sitting on deck looking out into the distance, and in the silence, I could hear the Arctic breathe. The popping and cracking of the ice, the creaking of the glaciers, and the lapping of the water against anything that interrupts its flow. Icebergs float past and walrus and seals slip quietly into the water. Life and beauty is everywhere. I feel so small and insignificant, but so content. We were anchored into the ice overnight, on-board the M/S Freya in the Hinlopen Strait by Beckerfjellet. It was difficult to sleep—meals provided our only indication of time, and the landscapes were a never-ending visual feast that I wanted to indulge on constantly. And while we had already enjoyed a number of bear sightings, the anticipation and excitement of another never faded. But the crew would keep watch from the bridge while we rested. Under the midnight sun, an encounter was possible at any time. It was 2:50 a.m. A knock on the cabin door and shouts of “bear approaching the boat” rang through the corridors and launched us abruptly into a state of full conscious- ness. I was on my feet, jacket and beanie on, and camera in hand almost instantaneously. On my camera was my trusty 100-400mm zoom lens—the right choice for this type of encounter, or so I thought. Moments later, I was on deck with the cold Arctic air on my face. In the distance, we saw our bears—a healthy sow and her two yearlings. As she made a clear and direct route to the boat, she paused intermittently, sniffing the air with her tongue. The siblings followed a little way behind, staying close to each other, following her large paw prints in the snow. The mother bear went directly to the anchor—she sniffed it and the footprints that were left behind when securing our boat into the ice hours before. She seemed calm, but incredibly curious. She investigated the broken ice along the boat’s hull, scratching at its surface and pawing into the water. The yearlings kept a little distance at first, walking around the side of the boat, looking up at all of our faces peering over the edge. Up close, they were even more captivating. Such power and presence, and an indescribable majestic beauty. They each had dried blood on their snouts—they had enjoyed a meal recently and seemed a healthy weight. She was a good mother, a good hunter.
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MOTHER VOLUME TWO
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