Saturday 10th June 2023

Up with a fairly thick head and a furry tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, it was the traditional cure-all of bacon butties that helped. That and the six coffees I sent down to keep the butties company.

For the morning we had cruised through the night to another sound/fjord, anchoring near to the wall of a glacier. All around were small mini-icebergs and other shards of ice, making this feel really like the high arctic for the first time.

All zodiacs were launched, so we could all partake in a cruise through the ice flows and along the edge of the glacier. Jools and I got in the first one, so we also got to experience the day with perfect reflections which made it very special indeed.

Most ice was white or clear, but recently calved ice was deep blue, and these offering the only contrast to the monocolours of snow, ice and rocks.

We powered to the edge of the area of thicker ice flows, then weaved our way through and along the front of the glacier, never getting within 500m of it. Sometimes all boats would cut their engines, passengers wouldn’t talk, so we could hear the sound of the arctic: the gentle bobbing of the ice caused by small calvings from the glacier, and the sound of cracking, with just about every piece of ice adding to the chorus. It wasn’t loud, jut there. Common Eider males called and Artic Skuas cruised looking for the first eggs of the season.

There had been no wind, so there were perfect reflections for the bergs and other lumps of ice in the icy sea. We weaved in and out, a line of ten boats, chugging along, all mesmerised by the sights of the bay and the seven mile long ice wall of the glacier.

At one point, it did calf, but only a small piece, and there was only a small wave. But ten minutes later, the swell from that reached us, causing the reflections to be stretched and compressed like a fairground hall of mirrors.

After two hours we made our way back the ship. We were all getting pretty cold by then, and needed coffee followed by lunch. After taking off our life vests and boots, we went up to the lounge for some welcome coffee and to warm up.

We cruised to our next anchorage, 14th July Bay, where there would be two activities: 1, a cruise along the cliffs looking for nesting birds, then a walk under the shadow of the huge cliffs, on which tens of thousands of birds nest, their guano fertilising the lower slopes, to make a “hanging garden”.

Today was the first time my back really ached, and so painful I almost skipped the trip out. But we have two days on board now, so I thought I would brave it out.

Back in the zodiacs, and out to the island, where the cliffs towered at something like a thousand feet, people already on the shore looked like ants in its shadow. Our boat cruised along the shore, where first of all we saw an Artic Fox, in its summer pelt, except for its tail, which was still white. High above a huge colony of Kittiwakes squawked and flew around, having seen the fox further down the cliffs.

Along further we saw more Kittiwake nests, though much closer, and a few Puffins looking out of crevices in the rock where they nest. Not nesting in burrows is, I think, unique to the Svalbard population.

After an hour we landed on the beach, I swapped lenses, and we began a slow amble along the beach looking for flora which might be in flower. Not much more than we saw before, but two Snow Buntings were gathering fur from a reindeer to line their nest.

At half five we got back in the boats and they brought us back to ship, not as clod as this morning, but my back was glad to being rested for a few days.

A quick coffee, and then the daily debrief before another three course meal and coffee.

After the red wine and whisky excess of the night before, we went to the cabin straight after dinner, and soon went to bed.