Searching the Arctic for polar bears and missing the one that appeared could be disappointing. Yet, on a 9-day HX Expeditions voyage to Svalbard, Zoe Macfarlane discovers this polar region offers a captivating world beyond her wildest imagination.
I am a warm-bodied, sun-seeking, summer-loving human, yet I occasionally let my inner Roald Amundsen draw me to the world’s most frigid temperatures.
From aurora chasing at Sweden’s Ice Hotel to glacier hiking in Iceland, Midnight Sun baking in Northern Norway, and flightseeing over Greenland’s Ilulissat Icefjord, I’ve long laid claim to the Arctic.
Still to check off? Svalbard and a wild polar bear sighting.
Seeing a polar bear is coveted the world over, so much so it made the New Big 5 list. However, just as the Great Barrier Reef isn’t only coral, Svalbard is more than ice and polar bears. It’s a fascinating ecosystem filled with thousands of species, all worth getting excited about.
Thanks to the HX crew and guest scientists on the Svalbard in Summer – Under the Midnight Sun expedition, I quickly learned there was so much more to appreciate than solely focusing on sighting the elusive King of the Arctic.
Svalbard: the world’s northern frontier
Svalbard is a Norwegian territory in the high Arctic. It’s home to many of the world’s ‘northernmost’: inhabited town (Longyearbyen), post office, brewery, and more.
While it can be harsh – with frigid temperatures, months of Midnight Sun, and 84 days of true darkness – Svalbard is also a place of stark beauty.
Renowned for its dramatic ice landscapes, imposing glaciers, and unique wildlife, it’s a ‘last frontier’ destination for adventurous souls.
Wild encounters
On an expedition cruise, the goal is to see as much nature as possible, though plan A can very quickly morph to plans B, C, and D.
While polar bear sightings may be the number one travel goal of many Arctic expedition guests, it’s not safe to be near one off the ship. As we discovered when the lead expedition guide spotted what he thought was a rock, only for it to stand up and look in his direction!
The landing cancelled (landing is expedition speak for taking a Zodiac boat ashore), plan B saw guests and crew line the observation decks, binoculars glued to the horizon. The polar bear was eventually spotted swimming, a sight only a few were quick enough to catch.
Fog is not good news around Svalbard as it restricts the visbility required to scout for polar bears. Fortunately, as we passed Smeerenburg, the day’s forecasted fog lifted just enough for us to see walruses. Plan C in play.
In small groups, we landed on Smeerenburg, a 17th-century whaling hub. The old blubber ovens are still there, but it was the huddle of walruses we were (quietly) clamouring to see. At up to 1,700 kilograms, walruses are slow on land, allowing us to get close enough to hear their low belly-groans and witness the enormous effort required to move a few metres.
In the Arctic summer, Svalbard’s whale species swell from three species to nine, a time to feed and fuel before heading south to breed. That said, for many days, whales were mysteriously lacking around MS Fram.
I joked we’d see them all on the last day. I was not wrong.
A beluga whale was on my wildlife wish list. Just one, I’m not greedy. I was not, however, prepared for ten, the pod slowly drifting towards us as we prepared to depart Ny Ålesund. Their pale bodies, gentle exhalations, and balletic grace saw me shed tears in awe.
Later, the captain announced a whale starboard. Fin and minke whales were the reward for learning that starboard means right. The elegance and speed of the world’s second-largest animal (after the blue whale), alongside the playful curiosity of the minke pod, was equally moving.
From big goals to appreciating the tiny
Watching the passionate HX guides and guest scientists reveal the myriad of other thrilling species in the Arctic is like watching a magician do a sleight of hand. Sure, you’ve come aboard with the lofty goal of seeing one of Svalbard’s 300 polar bears (the Barents Sea has only 3,000 total), but let us show you this incredible seal/fossil/plant/plankton.
As HX revealed the Arctic’s magic tricks – and a more detailed picture of the world around us – it was evident that – as the world’s oldest expedition company – they know just how to inspire their guests. It’s why so many of my new friends were on their second, third, fourth HX voyage.
HX takes science seriously, inviting guests on scientist-led Zodiac expeditions. On mine, I dropped sonar equipment to measure underwater sounds for an acoustics PhD student, and we also collected water for several global projects.
Later, viewing that water sample under the microscope blew my mind when copepods came into view. These tiny crustacean zooplankton are life-giving, forming the base of the marine food chain. I’d never have known without the passion for science shared aboard.
There was also the diminutive foliage spotted on our Alicehamna hike, no taller than my fingernail. Revealed as polar willow, it’s a relative of the 25-metre-tall weeping willow tree you see lakeside. Yet polar willow only grows to a maximum six centimetres, adapting to survive the harsh winds and Arctic temperatures. I felt – and still feel – immense joy at encountering the world’s tiniest tree.
From the geologist passionate about pink granitoid to the cloud scientist excited by von Kármán vortices, everyone didn’t just want us to see Svalbard but know it. It was no longer the scenic backdrop for our (wished-for) polar bear photos, but a living, breathing ecosystem vital to the planet.
Exploring Svalbard
As part of our daily landings, HX offered extended hikes frequently. The fit, healthy, and keen among us ventured on 2-3-hour treks across 400-million-year-old mountains where the landscape was so majestic, silence was the only response.
Standing in a place so few have been was overwhelming; the good kind, where you’re bathed in gratitude. Whether it was noticing the dash of red from a swooping Arctic tern, spotting bearded seals at play, or holding a pink granite and quartz rock in my hand, I felt present and connected to the world around me.
At Monacobreen, a great adventure ensued as I donned a dry suit for glacier kayaking. Paddling through a light mist alongside a 60-metre-tall ice mass was surreal, like journeying into another world.
Another unforgettable moment: a Zodiac trip in Fuglefjorden, a sight so spectacular, it’s now my mediation ‘happy place’. The fjord’s still waters reflected the towering glacier, snow-capped mountains, floating ice, and wisps of clouds, accompanied by an idyllic soundtrack of black guillemots, little auks, cracking ice, and the occasional boom of the glacier calving.
Surrounded by ice, sky, and sea, I felt a level of peace I hadn’t realised I was missing. It was, quite simply, perfect.
More than just a passenger
HX does a sensational job of making guests feel like participants rather than bystanders, inviting us to be part of Svalbard’s story. Every day brought something different, and I learnt that slowing down lets you see more, feel more, care more.
I expected adventure; it’s an expedition ship, after all. What I didn’t anticipate was connection – from the largest mammals to the tiniest plankton, from new friends and the enthusiastic HX crew who made our journey so memorable.
I didn’t get my polar bear sighting (the perfect excuse to return, no?). But I left with something better: the knowledge that small things are as memorable as big ones. It’s something I’ve carried with me back home.
