OTL04-25, trip log, North Spitsbergen Explorer

Our Arctic adventure aboard Ortelius was about to start. Throughout the entire day the sun had shone in Longyearbyen, a perfect setting for our departure. At 4pm we all gathered at Kulkaya, the coal pier of the northernmost city in the world. A reminder of the old past of this remote archipelago tucked in the northwestern corner of the Barents Sea.

One by one, we made our way up the gangway, greeted by bright sunshine and the crisp, invigorating Arctic air. Excitement carried us through our first half hour onboard as we explored the ship—occasionally losing our way in its winding corridors. Soon after, we were warmly welcomed by Claudio, our Expedition Leader, and William, the Hotel Manager. As everyone settled into their cabins, Captain Per was introduced and offered his signature toast to each guest, setting a wonderfully warm and inviting tone for the journey ahead.

Once everyone was on board, we assembled for the mandatory safety drill. Donning our lifejackets, we gathered at the muster station before making our way up to the top deck. As the Ortelius slowly pulled away from the harbour, northern fulmars joined us, effortlessly gliding alongside the ship—their reflections shimmering on the glassy surface of the water. The moment of departure had truly arrived, and a shared sense of excitement buzzed in the crisp Arctic air. The sense of departure was real now, and excitement filled the air.

Our first dinner together set the tone for the voyage ahead; plentiful, delicious, and filled with laughter. The dining room buzzed with conversation as we helped ourselves to a generous buffet, featuring impressively large steaks that quickly became the subject of friendly jokes about the weight we might gain by the end of the trip.

Afterward, we gathered in the lecture room for the much-anticipated boot party, where we were fitted with our rubber boots, these would become our best friends during the following days when stepping out of the ship.

Just as we were settling into the rhythm of ship life, excitement surged once more, a blue whale and perhaps more than one individual, had been spotted off the bow. We rushed outside, hearts racing, to witness the enormous creature surface gracefully in the distance, a breathtaking welcome to the wild wonders that awaited us.

The blue whale, an awe-inspiring giant and the largest mammal ever to have lived on Earth, is a true marvel of the natural world. Reaching lengths of up to 30 meters and weighing as much as 180 tons, its sheer size is almost beyond comprehension. Despite its enormity, it moved with surprising grace, gliding through the ocean with slow, powerful strokes. Seeing one in the wild is a humbling reminder of the planet’s vastness and the extraordinary creatures that call it home.

We were awakened at 6.45am by Claudio's enthusiastic voice echoing through the ship. After stirring from our cabins, we made our way to the dining room where a generous breakfast buffet awaited. With the sunlight already flooding in and a calm Arctic stillness outside, the day felt full of promise. After fuelling up, we gathered in the lounge to officially meet our expedition team. Safety briefings followed, covering Zodiac procedures and field protocols. Despite their importance, many of us were already glancing out the windows, eager to begin exploring.

Our first landing was Alicehamna, tucked into Raudfjorden on the northwestern coast of Spitsbergen. Conditions were near perfect. Clear skies, almost no wind and incredible visibility made for a beautiful outdoor experience. The expedition team went ahead to scout, and once all was ok, we descended into the zodiacs and headed to shore. That first cool breeze across the face marked the beginning of a true Arctic adventure.

At the landing, we visited a small trapper’s hut, a reminder of the early twentieth century hunting era in Svalbard. Weathered by decades of snow and wind, the hut told stories of solitude and survival. Not far from the hut, we walked to a wooden cross and cairn that mark a simple grave site. These graves are believed to belong to Norwegian hunters from the early 1900s, a poignant link to the human history of the archipelago. From the top of the rise, the view was unforgettable. A mirrored lake laid below on one side, and on the other, mountains rose sharply in the mid-morning light. Our vessel sat perfectly framed in the bay.

In the afternoon, we had originally planned to hike at Buchananhalvøya. But the snowpack was deep and inconsistent, with signs of snowshoe and ski tracks as well as a clear set of polar bear prints. With safety in mind, the team made the call to switch plans and offer a Zodiac cruise instead. Guests rushed to swap gear and lenses, and there was a growing sense of excitement as we lined up at the gangway.

The cruise proved to be a highlight. We motored through areas of fast ice where bearded seals appeared very fleetingly as if to tease us. Birdlife was abundant, kittiwakes soared overhead, guillemots (both Black and Brunnich’s) hovered close to the water, and, to everyone’s delight, a few King Eiders were spotted resting near the ice. The calm water created perfect reflections, and with the sun shining overhead, many guests asked whether the weather could possibly be any better.

Back on board, our day continued with the evening recap, where the team shared highlights and Marcelo gave a fascinating talk on the history of Svalbard and the origins of Longyearbyen. With appetites well and truly worked up, we gathered in the dining room for a delicious a la carte dinner, full of stories and warm conversations after such a rich day outside.

Just as we were settling in for the evening, Captain Per surprised us with another change of plan. We were headed towards Moffen Island, a protected nature reserve known for its walrus haul-outs. Though landings are not permitted, we cruised slowly past the low-lying island and were rewarded with several walruses piled together along the shoreline. Guests gathered on deck with cameras and binoculars, watching these massive animals resting peacefully in the light of late evening. Some snorted, others barely stirred, and the scene felt like the perfect end to a spectacular day in the Arctic.

The walk up call from Claudio came at 06:45 letting us know of the conditions and our position, anchored next to Texas Bar. The hut was visible on the shore, with cliffs rising up behind it and low-lying islands across the fjord.

By the time we’d enjoyed a nice breakfast it was time to layer up and get the zodiac shuttle ashore ready for a hike on the slopes surrounding Texas Bar. In groups we made our way to higher ground giving rewarding views across to Hannabreen to the north. On the glacial outwash plane in front of Hannabreen we spotted reindeer searching for the first of the vegetation.

Between the intense search through our binoculars, we enjoyed the purple saxifrage and mountain avens flowers. Occasionally we found woolly lousewort adding to the burst of colour amongst the grey moraines and white glaciers. Roaming across the moraines we could find evidence of all the wildlife which use this site for nesting and feeding: reindeer antlers, poo from reindeer, geese and arctic fox and bones from a deceased young reindeer.

The birdlife already started to return for the season, particularly around the small lake where many of us enjoyed photographing the artic skuas, pink footed geese and snow buntings. From a distance a rock ptarmigan was spotted which had already begun to change from its white winter appearance to its mottled summer plumage.

Some took the chance to hike to a cairn above the landing site which gave tremendous views across all of Liefdejorden from Monacobreen in the south all the way up to the flat promontory of Worsleyneset.

Before returning to the landing site, we all took some time to see what the Texas Bar hut had to offer. Marcelo explained to us how it was built in 1927 by a famous Norwegian trapper in the area, Hilmar Nøis, who built a number of huts in northern Spitsbergen.

The landing site was a hive of activity as everyone prepared mentally and physically for the polar plunge! The blue skies appeared and without much wind many people were enticed to try a dip at such a high latitude. Invigorated swimmers piled into the zodiacs to return to Ortelius for lunch.

It was soon time to get back in our layers again as over lunch the crew repositioned the ship and anchored deep in Liefdefjord, near the glacier front of Seligerbreen. From the zodiacs we cruised into the brash ice which radiated out from sites of calvings in the glacier front. We could feel the temperature drop as we neared the glacier. The view from the zodiacs was impressive with the towering blue ice scouring away between the jagged mountains.

A bearded seal was spotted laying on a flat piece of glacier ice. The distinctive orange head was noticeable as we neared the relaxed seal. The quiet sound of crackling ice was interrupted by the bang from calvings on the middle section of Seligerbreen. We were lucky to get to witness some collapses.

We cruised along the retreating glacier front, keeping watch for the occasional arctic skua, kittiewake, brünnich’s guillemot, black guillemot and little auks. At a small cove in Monacobreen glacier front, many kittiewakes crowded on the water and surrounding icebergs enjoying the plentiful food from the upwelling glacial meltwater. Whilst enjoying this we were lucky to spot some Ivory gulls too.

It was a spectacular outing to have time to observe the glaciers and wildlife found at the glacier front. We headed back to Ortelius with many photos of new sightings. Claudio shared with us the plan of traveling north to reach the pack ice overnight after which Marco explained more about how glaciers work and characteristic features of Svalbard glaciers.

The day was packed with activities and the bar was busy in the evening with stories being shared on the sightings and highlights of the day! There was much anticipation for the days to come as we travelled north to the sea ice!

After leaving the northern coast of Svalbard behind during the night, M/V Ortelius set a course due north, reaching the edge of the drifting pack ice in the early hours of the morning. The shimmering reflection from the high-albedo sea ice lit up the horizon and our smiling faces, as the ship began navigating through the first scattered ice floes. We stood in quiet awe, captivated by the pristine Arctic landscape, ready to begin a truly memorable day in this pure and untouched environment.

After breakfast, we eagerly made our way to the outer decks, cameras in hand, to capture the mesmerizing scene as the ship navigated through a mosaic of ice floes in varying shapes and sizes. The first hours of the morning slipped by quickly, with little wildlife in sight across the vast, silent expanse of white. As the ship pressed steadily northward, it was soon time for Marco to guide us into the fascinating world of the sea ice; explaining its formation, movement, and the critical role it plays in the complex dynamics of the Arctic basin.

Sea ice in the Arctic Ocean is a dynamic and ever-changing environment, shaped by wind, ocean currents, and fluctuating temperatures. It begins to form in autumn as the surface waters cool, first appearing as a thin, glassy layer called frazil ice, which gradually thickens into more solid floes over time. In regions like northern Svalbard, the interaction between the cold polar atmosphere and the relatively warm Atlantic waters creates a complex boundary where sea ice can advance or retreat dramatically over short periods.

The drifting pack ice we encountered today, as Marco explained was most likely single year sea ice. Constantly in motion, pushed by the wind and steered by ocean gyres, ice floes drift around cracking, colliding, and rafting over one another. This fluid, living surface is not only a navigational challenge but also a vital habitat for polar bears, seals, and seabirds, all of whom rely on the ice for hunting, resting, and breeding.

After lunch, some of us wisely took the opportunity for a restful nap, while others devotedly stayed on the bridge, scanning the ice with binoculars and spotting scopes to assist the staff in the ongoing search for wildlife. Before long, a number of ringed seals began appearing on the larger ice floes, occasionally joined by elegant ivory gulls gliding overhead—a promising sign that the Arctic’s elusive apex predator might be nearby. M/V Ortelius, pressing steadily northward, crossed the 81st parallel by mid-afternoon; while Martin in the bar gave a thorough presentation of Arctic birds. Not long after, we were treated to a joyful surprise: a cheerful gathering at the bow, complete with hot chocolate and a splash of rum, bringing everyone together in celebration of the journey and the icy wonderland surrounding us.

Just as the day seemed to be winding down, a wave of excitement swept through the ship—thanks to the sharp eyes and unwavering dedication of our staff on the bridge, a polar bear had been spotted. At first, it appeared as nothing more than a small, creamy dot on the vast ice, barely distinguishable to our untrained eyes. But as Ortelius slowly circled a massive ice floe, the bear came into clearer view. We quickly gathered at the bow and on the bridge, cameras poised, hearts racing, ready to witness a magical encounter under the glow of the endless Arctic summer night. Initially, the bear seemed focused on a pair of ringed seals resting nearby, but to our amazement, it soon turned its attention toward us—sniffing the air and playfully weaving in and out of view behind pressure ridges. We watched in breathless anticipation as it edged closer, only to stop, settle near a ridge, and lie down, leaving us awestruck, with dry mouths and full hearts.

By midnight, most of us had retreated to the bar or slipped quietly into our cabins, holding onto hope that the bear might stir during the night or in the early hours of the morning. It was a gentle reminder of how elusive and unpredictable wildlife can be in the vast, silent expanse of the Arctic; a place where patience is essential, and every encounter is a gift. Spotting animals in this endless white wilderness is never guaranteed, but the anticipation itself is part of the magic of exploring this region.

Last night we went to bed knowing that there was a polar bear about 250 metres away from the ship, sleeping. We slept as well, knowing that we could be woken up any time by Claudio to hear that the bear was moving.

At 4.45 the call came, the bear had woken up and was on the move.

We hurriedly dressed and headed for the outside decks, the bear was on the move, it walked seemingly effortlessly but so quickly, each one of its huge strides powering it forward on the search for food.

The bear found a hole in the ice and went into the water, we couldn’t see if it was hunting but it sure got very wet. The bear had a good shake and headed for the ice edge.

Eventually it reached the edge of the huge ice flow and slid down into the water, we watched as it started to swim across the open water infront of the ship, its head up watching and sniffing the air, some Little auk and Brünnichs guillemots flew overhead as it swam, at one point it ducked down, lifted its back legs and dived down, completely submerging, shortly it reappeared and continued on its swim to the next ice flow.

We watched as the bear climbed out of the water and walked along the ice, every now and then it would quicken its pace into a short run, the bear eventually turned and walked away from the ship further into the ice and the falling snow, disappearing from our view, that was our first bear encounter of the trip, spectacular!

Most of us then took some time to rest and before we knew it, it was time for breakfast. Yet another super meal was laid out, we were hungrier than ever having already been up and about for three hours!

We then had time to enjoy the scenery, this amazing landscape of ice and snow, to sit and watch the different patterns of ice as we sailed through was mesmerising. We saw several seals and birdlife along the way, Matt gave a very informative lecture on photography and then it was time for lunch.

After lunch, those that chose to - watched the new Ocean film; those that didn’t could rest or hunt for wildlife or just watch the ice and the frequent snow showers.

It was late afternoon when Claudio gave a great lecture on some of the science work carried out in the Arctic area.

The day was brought to a close with recap and a very special dinner by way of a BBQ outside with dancing late into the evening.

During the course of the night, the ship made its way back toward the Svalbard coast, transiting in the early hours of the morning past the islands of Amsterdamøya and Danskøya—historic sites once used by whalers in the 17th century. The air was warmer and damper than during the past few days we had spent in the sea ice, with a heavy gloom hanging in the sky. Low, brooding clouds partially veiled the jagged, dramatic jagged (Spits) peaks (Bergen) of Spitsbergen’s mountains, lending the coast an eerie and majestic silhouette.

During breakfast, MV Ortelius navigated steadily into Magdalenefjorden, setting the stage for our scheduled morning activity: a three-hour Zodiac cruise. Right after breakfast, the Zodiacs were launched, and our cheerful and experienced expedition team took the tillers, ready to guide us through one of the most scenic fjords in the Svalbard archipelago.

Magdalenefjorden is often described as one of the crown jewels of northwest Spitsbergen. Surrounded by steep, glacier-carved peaks and edged by dramatic cliffs, the fjord offers breathtaking views and rich historical significance. In the XVII century, it served as a key harbour for European whalers, and remnants of their presence—such as blubber ovens and grave sites—still remain along the shorelines. The fjord is also home to impressive tidewater glaciers, such as Waggonwaybreen that calve into the icy waters, and its sheltered bays provide excellent opportunities to spot seabirds, seals, and occasionally polar bears. The interplay of history, wildlife, and stark Arctic beauty makes Magdalenefjorden a highlight of any Svalbard voyage.

The cruise began with delightful sightings of playful harbour seals, hauled out on smooth boulders deposited long ago by retreating glaciers. We spotted several pups closely following their mothers in the water, while others rested on the rocks in their classic "banana-shaped" pose: arched backs, heads and tails lifted, a posture that helps them stay dry and conserve heat.

Harbour seals, also known as common seals, are among the most widespread pinnipeds in the Northern Hemisphere, yet their presence in Svalbard is more localized and less predictable than other Arctic species. They tend to favour sheltered coastlines and fjords, where they can haul out on rocks and ice to rest, molt, or nurse their young. These seals are relatively small, with rounded heads, large expressive eyes, and a wide range of coat patterns—from light grey with dark spots to darker hues with pale rings. In Magdalenefjorden, their relaxed demeanor and inquisitive nature make them a favourite among visitors.

Next, we approached the stunning icebergs calved from Waggonwaybreen. Their vivid blue hues, ranging from pale turquoise to deep sapphire, revealed the dense, compressed ice. As we drifted closer, the soft crackle of popping air bubbles released from melting ice, created a subtle, otherworldly soundtrack. Towering above us, the glacier’s jagged front stood like a frozen wall, occasionally rumbling as chunks of ice broke off and crashed into the sea, reminding us of the glacier’s quiet but constant movement.

The original plan for the afternoon was fortunately disrupted by the sighting of not one, but two polar bears—an unforgettable highlight made possible thanks to our sister ship, MV Hondius, which generously shared the location with us. We dropped anchor in Gullybukta and settled in for a patient wait, scanning the shoreline with anticipation. After a few hours, our patience was rewarded: two magnificent polar bears appeared, slowly making their way along the coast. Their powerful, deliberate strides carried them across the rocky terrain with ease, occasionally pausing to sniff the air or investigate the shoreline. The golden light caught their thick fur, giving them a warm glow against the cold, stark landscape. It was a moment of pure Arctic magic, the kind that makes every frozen mile worthwhile.

What a great way to end another fabulous day!

During the morning of our last expedition day, M/V Ortelius moved slowly, easing into Forlandsundet, the narrow channel that separates the island of Spitsbergen from Prins Karls Forland.

To the west, Prins Karls Forland emerged—a narrow, elongated crowned with snow-draped peaks. Today, it stands as a protected sanctuary, offering refuge to seabird colonies, grazing reindeer, and walruses basking along its sandy edges. The island also bears a subtle yet notable mark in the chronicles of early Arctic exploration. It was first glimpsed in 1610 by the English navigator Jonas Poole, who was sailing under the banner of the Muscovy Company in pursuit of whales and uncharted trade passages. In tribute to the future monarch Charles I of England, Poole christened the land "Prince Charles’s Foreland."

Early in the morning, divided into two small groups, we set foot on the island at Poolepynten, a low-lying sand spit on the eastern side of Prins Karls Forland, named after Jonas Poole himself. Guided by our team we followed an unmarked path across gravely terrain dotted by drifted wood and observed the small group of Arctic pinnipeds sprawled across the beach from a respectful distance.

Their massive, tusked bodies piled together like driftwood. Atlantic walruses can weigh over 1,500 kilograms and use their tusks not only for defense but also to haul themselves out of the water and onto ice or shore. Social and often vocal, they grunted and snorted, occasionally lifting their heads to eye us with mild curiosity. Despite their bulk and awkward gait on land, in the water they are graceful swimmers, perfectly adapted to the icy Arctic seas.

It was hard to picture their underwater lives as we watched them doze on the beach. Walruses are expert benthic feeders, using their sensitive whiskers (vibrissae) to detect clams buried in the seafloor. With powerful suction, they can extract the soft parts of a clam without cracking the shell. An adult may eat thousands of clams in a single day, playing a key role in stirring up the seabed and maintaining the balance of the Arctic marine ecosystem.

Back on the ship the reception was busy with our last purchases and payments, whilst the ship started to reposition towards the mouth of Isfjorden. As we enjoyed lunch onboard, we slipped into the sheltered bay of Trygghamna.

This natural harbour, used by whalers since the 17th century, offered calm waters and an ideal spot for our final landing. We stepped ashore onto tundra still dotted with lingering snow, eager to stretch our legs one last time. The staff offered us a secure perimeter guarded by the guides for safety, and within it we could roam freely and take our time to soak into the landscape one last time. Some of us made our way toward the cliffs of Alkhornet, taking in the sights and sounds of the Arctic wilderness. Along the trail, Pink-footed Geese and Snow Buntings flitted about, while Svalbard Reindeer wandered around us in great numbers. Some grazing, other running after each other and a few resting on the snow patches. It was a fitting and beautiful conclusion to our journey through this remote and remarkable corner of the Svalbard archipelago.

Alkhornet comes from the shape of the mountain that domain the place, it looks like a horn. Back on the ship we gathered for the farewell cocktail. Multiple people, including captain Per and Expedition Leader Claudio, declared words of appreciation for the trip. After watching the fantastic and touching slide show made by Gabi, we had one last dinner before returning our boots and packing our luggage for the next day.

Some of us could see the Arctic fox, others couldn’t but all of us could enjoy the beautiful tiny flowers.

After a quiet night adrift in the storied stillness of Colesbukta, MV Ortelius gently made her way into port. By morning light, we arrived in Longyearbyen.

A last breakfast aboard offered both comfort and closure, as we lingered over warm cups and soft conversation. Then came the time to gather our things, to walk the familiar path to the gangway, and to say our farewells to the crew who had steered us through ice and wonder, and to the companions who had become more than fellow travellers.

Some turned toward the streets of Longyearbyen, eager for one more adventure. Others, homeward bound, carried with them the hush of glaciers and the cry of seabirds. And as we stepped onto solid ground, we looked back one final time at MV Ortelius, her silhouette already etched in memory; a vessel not just of passage, but of transformation. In that moment, we knew: the journey had ended, but its echo would linger, calling us forward toward new horizons.

On behalf of Oceanwide Expeditions, Captain Per Andersson, Expedition Leader Claudio Ghiglione, Hotel Manager William Barnes and all the crew and staff of M/V Ortelius, it has been a pleasure and a privilege travelling with you.

Total distance sailed on our voyage: 832 nautical miles.

Northernmost position: 81° 08.4’ N / 011° 29.5’E

Your Oceanwide Expeditions Team