Latest news with #Spitsbergen
Yahoo
01-06-2025
- General
- Yahoo
Why remote Svalbard is best explored on an expedition cruise
The world is at its quietest and most awe-inspiring in the planet's remote reaches, where wildlife reigns and the planet's stark beauty is on display. Located some 580 miles from the city of Tromsø in mainland Norway, Svalbard is an archipelago comprising nine main islands, the largest being Spitsbergen. One of the best ways to immerse yourself in this wild environment is on an expedition cruise, where you'll glide past imposing glaciers, noisy walrus colonies, cliffs dotted with sea birds and families of polar bears. In the summer months, Svalbard enjoys constant daylight — making it an ideal time to see these pristine landscapes in all their glory. Here are five reasons to go on an expedition through this otherworldly archipelago. For any visitor to Svalbard, the chance to see the King of the Arctic in his natural habitat is the stuff of wildlife-spotting dreams. Roughly 3,000 polar bears call Svalbard home — more than the human population here — and as the largest of all the bear species, there's a high chance of spotting one of these mighty carnivores from a ship or tender. Polar bears are often seen navigating ice floes, stalking birds perched on cliffs or paddling alongside desolate beaches. These bears can disappear out of sight as quickly as they appear, so having an eagle-eyed guide makes all the difference. The chalk-white humps of belugas swimming in a procession; the breach of a huge humpback; or the tall fluke of a sperm whale slowly dropping below the ocean's surface, signalling the start of a deep dive — these are just a few of the wondrous wildlife moments you may encounter while exploring Svalbard. This Arctic landscape is where hundreds of walruses gather on rocky beaches to snort out a chorus, while herds of reindeer forage for moss along the tundra. Elsewhere, you can spot seals warily navigating the sea ice, or ogle thousands of sea birds — including guillemots, glaucous gulls and fulmars — nesting on vertical cliffs. During the summer months in Svalbard, when the North Pole is angled closest to the sun, the archipelago experiences perpetual daylight. The sun never quite dips below the horizon, casting a pink hue across the sky from dusk until morning. This phenomenon, known as the midnight sun, only adds to the wonder of travelling through these islands. You may lose track of time in the brightness of near-constant daytime, but this means any moment offers the chance to take in the astonishing scale of a glacier or watch as a whale exhales plumes of breath into the sky. Naturalists, marine biologists, geologists and experienced expedition staff are the human elements who make an adventure to Svalbard exceptional. The most fulfilling journeys through this archipelago bring the region's history, landscapes, marine life and conservation efforts to life through onboard lectures and presentations. On an expedition here, you are likely to have the opportunity to mingle with staff and ask them questions to develop a deeper understanding of this distinctive dot on the map. Journeying around Spitsbergen (the only inhabited island in the archipelago) feels much like moving through a documentary of your own making. This is where the Arctic's colour palette is most vibrant, visible in the dark granite seams of snow-topped mountain peaks, the glaciers that appear to glow turquoise and the steely blues of rippling ocean waves. Former whaling stations and hunting cabins made of wood and stone mark a history of human habitation — but it's the enormous whale bones lining the shore that are the most striking reminders of our past. This is paid content for Trailfinders. It does not necessarily reflect the views of National Geographic, National Geographic Traveller (UK) or their editorial subscribe to National Geographic Traveller (UK) magazine click here. (Available in select countries only).
The Guardian
16-05-2025
- The Guardian
Experience: I fought off a polar bear with a saucepan
I've had 35 close encounters with polar bears during my time as an explorer and campaigner for the Arctic Ocean. There's always that surge of adrenaline when you see one – that sense of: 'Oh God, it's happening.' I've learned how to deal with bears over the years. Although I take a shotgun and special cartridges – they're to scare them off – I've never hit a bear with a bullet. But there was one occasion when the closest thing to hand turned out to be my mother's saucepan. It was back in 1990 – I was 28, and early in my career. I was on the east coast of Spitsbergen, the largest island of Svalbard, a Norwegian archipelago. Svalbard has a high concentration of polar bears in the spring, gathering for the mating season. When a bear is hungry, it essentially becomes a meat-seeking missile – it can smell you from many miles away. If you're unwashed in a dark tent out on the floating sea ice, you can look (and smell) not unlike an oversized walrus. I'm the world's heaviest sleeper, but when I'm exploring, my amygdala – the part of the brain that controls fear – goes into overdrive and I sleep very lightly. For three or four nights I'd been waking up repeatedly because I thought I'd heard the dreaded crunch of bear paws in the snow. Getting up to check was an ordeal. Condensation from my breathing and cooking would freeze into a thick coating of ice crystals on the inside of my tent, which would shower down when I brushed against them. If I touched the outside of my sleeping bag with bare fingers for too long I would get frostnip – an early stage of frostbite. The least arduous way to check for a bear was to get up on to my knees while still inside my sleeping bag, unzip the tent and poke my head out of the top to get a 360-degree view. It was cold, awkward and miserable, and, often, there was nothing there. On the day it finally happened, I was finishing breakfast inside the tent. I'd made porridge in my mother's saucepan, which was one of those heavy old-fashioned ones with a plastic handle. The camping stove was still on, to melt snow for my Thermos flasks – the roaring noise was loud enough to drown out a jumbo jet. When I turned it off, there was initially silence. Then, I heard crunching in the snow. Because of the previous false alarms, I felt quite nonchalant as I unzipped the tent's entrance. It was a tremendous shock to see a huge, fully grown polar bear facing me, only an arm's length away. I had a loaded gun in the tent to scare it off, but the gun was behind me and I knew that if I swivelled to get it, my salivating visitor could attack. So my hand instinctively reached for the nearest combat-ready thing I could see – the porridge-encrusted saucepan. Holding the tent flap back, I hit the bear as hard as I could on its head. I clearly remember it wrinkling up its face and tilting its head almost quizzically to one side. I think the noise of the pan startled it as much as the impact – we could both still hear the reverberations. As I wondered whether to hit it again, it wheeled round and cantered off and out of sight. Sign up to Inside Saturday The only way to get a look behind the scenes of the Saturday magazine. Sign up to get the inside story from our top writers as well as all the must-read articles and columns, delivered to your inbox every weekend. after newsletter promotion Surprising polar bears is crucial. I've been in situations where I've heard the bear pump-priming itself with oxygen as it prepares to launch itself for the kill – the heavy breathing sounds like a London tube train. That's when you've got to use your firearm to maximum effect – holding your nerve and firing immediately above its head. Most crucially, you need to remember they have more of a right to be there than you. Polar bears are the charismatic megafauna of the Arctic Ocean – and I have now dedicated my life to campaigning for the protection of them and their habitat. As a young adventurer I used to feel it was me against my surroundings, but then I realised I could work with nature. Many years later, I would become the first person to complete a solo trek from the tip of Canada to the north pole while pulling all my supplies – a feat that still hasn't been repeated. There have been times, alone in the Arctic, when I have felt more in tune with the world than anywhere else. It breaks my heart that, because of the rapidly melting sea ice, I have witnessed a wilderness habitat that others may never see. As told to Rachel Halliburton Do you have an experience to share? Email experience@
Newsweek
22-04-2025
- Politics
- Newsweek
Chinese Must Remove Stone Lions from the Arctic: Reports
Based on facts, either observed and verified firsthand by the reporter, or reported and verified from knowledgeable sources. Newsweek AI is in beta. Translations may contain inaccuracies—please refer to the original content. A Norwegian state-owned company will ask China's polar institute to remove two white stone lions and a name plaque at the entrance of a Chinese research facility in Norway's Arctic in a subtle reassertion of Norwegian sovereignty over the geopolitically sensitive region, Norwegian state media NRK has reported. Newsweek reported on China's growing ambitions in the Arctic - and the stone lions from Shanghai - last July. The request also affects a gold-colored plaque with the name "Yellow River Station" in English and Chinese at the entrance to China's research facility, the report said. The Arctic is the scene of intensifying geopolitical rivalry between the United States and China and Russia. At stake are minerals and shipping routes as well as locations for research and communications posts that have important implications for space technology and potentially for weapons. Norway has sovereignty over the Svalbard archipelago but manages it according to the terms of the Spitsbergen, or Svalbard, Treaty that was drawn up in 1920 and which granted certain rights to signatories. China signed the treaty under a previous government that ruled until 1949 when the Communist Party of China seized power. NRK cited local media Svalbardposten that Norwegian authorities wanted to make it clear with the request that there was only one research station in Ny-Ålesund, that it was Norwegian, and that Norway hosts all researchers on Svalbard. The sign - and the stone lions - went against that according to NRK: "The sign says 'Yellow River Station,' even though it is a research office and not a research station." Newsweek has reached out for comment to the Polar Research Institute of China (PRIC) in Shanghai, the Chinese embassy in Oslo, and Kings Bay, the Norwegian limited liability state company that manages a Norwegian research station in Ny-Ålesund, in the Svalbard archipelago, where China's "Yellow River Station" opened in 2004. A male and a female stone lion from Shanghai guard the entrance to China's "Yellow River Station" in the Norwegian Arctic research station of Ny-Ålesund in the Svalbard Archipelago, June 25, 2024. A male and a female stone lion from Shanghai guard the entrance to China's "Yellow River Station" in the Norwegian Arctic research station of Ny-Ålesund in the Svalbard Archipelago, June 25, 2024. Marc Lanteigne Other countries were also affected by the request, NRK said, including India and South Korea, which also sported national or cultural symbols on their research facilities. Norway formally complained to Chinese diplomats last year when a boat carrying 183 Chinese tourists wearing matching red jackets, some of whom former members of the Chinese military and at least one wearing a current People's Liberation Army uniform, landed at Ny-Ålesund carrying red banners with patriotic slogans and Chinese national flags, in a boisterous celebration of the 20th anniversary of China's research there. The event was deemed provocative by the Norwegian authorities.
