Svalbard - Arctic Norway
Had explorer and name giver Willem Barentsz sailed a little further into the fjords in 1596, he probably would have named the island "Platbergen” (Flat Land – the opposite of the current name). The archipelago was pushed up by the Greenland and European continental plates. By far most of Svalbard has remarkably flattened mountain peaks. All of it sediment, brittle rock formed under pressure, deposited by rivers and glaciers. Rippling waves did the rest, further flattening the ground. Millions of years ago, this archipelago drifted away from the equator where it was a swampy place inhabited by dinosaurs. Layer after layer, formed without oxygen by heat and pressure, the inhospitable landscape now reveals its fossils. The footprint of 60-200 million years ago. We do find some nice fossils; the ground is sometimes littered with them. Deeper into the mountains, the thick layers of vegetation have been transformed into high-quality coal: the origin of today's mining town of Longyearbyen. The only city and thus capital of Svalbard, the Norwegian archipelago of which Svalbard is the largest island. Not until the "Svalbard treaty" early last century this was a lawless, unrelenting place frequented by a motley crew of unyielding polar explorers, hunters, stoic miners and fortune seekers.
It is here, at 78 degrees north latitude, where the Norwegian plane comes to a halt around noon. Tourists in T-shirts are immediately treated to a ghastly, icy polar wind. It is tourism and science - no longer coal mines - that brings in the money. Norway's only coal mine is dying, and it is ironic that this "green" labeled island runs entirely on fossil fuel. Beloved by the German auto industry to forge high-grade steel from. It's NASA that is boosting the local economy with hefty cash injections by investing in all sorts of weather measuring equipment. High-speed Internet is therefore thanks to NASA, as are the accurate measurements of the thickness and extent of the polar ice since the 1970s. There is no landmass at or around the North Pole, only floating ice no more than four meters thick. It was floating pack ice that prevented Barentsz and his companions from finding the much-desired north-east passage. This same pack ice that now continues to melt under global warming and nowadays nearly 100 ships are able to go from West to East or vice versa in the summer. This is good news for trading and extracting oil or coal, but bad news for the climate indeed.

It is essentially a vicious cycle where higher temperatures create thinner Arctic ice, this thinner ice absorbs more heat (reflects less into the atmosphere) causing it to melt even faster. The habitat of polar bears becomes smaller, as they are forced to travel longer distances. Fewer seals as prey means less fat for the cold winter months and less reproduction. Only as late as 1974 was the polar bear declared a protected species. Poaching the world's largest carnivore had become so efficient that the population was rapidly dwindling. Hunters waited in their huts until bears had walked into the automatic trap using seal meat as bait. The fur only needed to be sold; the bear had already been shot. Unfortunately, these traps did not distinguish between males and females and thus small bears were taken to the mainland as an attraction and kept as pets up to a certain size. Until eventually they ended up in some zoo. Regardless of climate change, centuries earlier the English and Dutch had already virtually emptied the seas of whales. The much coveted cod liver oil brought in a lot of money in Europe as fuel to light rooms and cities. On Spitsbergen these days, therefore, one sadly sees little wildlife. Reindeer, however, are one of the few species that do well on this island and are even allowed to be shot for two months in the fall. Without a gun and a permit, you won't get very far and as a tourist you are condemned to armed guides to escort you out of town.
However, this is the daily plan and Norwegian or Danish guides invariably take a Husky dog with the group. Discarded as sled dogs where they did not stand out in the strong hierarchy, they can still do well with their excellent sense of smell. They must be kept on a leash because there’s always a few percent wolf in this breed, making the stray reindeer a sought-after prey. With snowshoes we trek into the hills, eating behind a wall made with snow shovels shielded from the gusts. The silence is deafening and when the sun breaks through you get "snowblind" rather quickly without sunglasses. Anticipating the weather on the Atlantic coast was one reason for the Germans to drive out the few miners to get a better grip on the submarine warfare. A crashed Messerschmidt in the valley reminds us of this brief period of German rule. Furthermore, it was the Russians in particular who were happy to snap up the unprofitable coal mines of the Swedes and Norwegians for a penny at the beginning of the last century. Heavily subsidized, they extracted millions of tons of coal for Murmansk and the Kola Peninsula in particular. And thus gave Svalbard a Russian touch because there is little evidence of Norwegian territory or citizenship in the abandoned Russian mining towns. They truly are ghost towns hastily abandoned after the collapse of the Soviet Union. Tours and a few overnight stays is what keeps a few lost Russians still on their feet here. Significant was the bus driver with knife on his belt and revolver with cartridges on the dashboard. Somewhat understandably so, since a few years ago a polar bear broke into the hotel and, according to local lore, ran straight to the fridge where the vodka was kept..
The afternoon we continue to inspect the immense Nordenskiold Glacier opposite the ghost town of Pyramiden. Unlike most glaciers, these frozen rivers here do not move as much because of the permafrost. They are now perhaps a few percent of the size they once were. Nevertheless, they inspire much awe, and breathlessly we stare at the blue mass of ice. Meanwhile, the Filipino crew fishes some ice chunks out of the water, breaks them into pieces and provides a "whiskey on-the-rocks”. The next day, we even descend through a tiny snow hole into one of these natural phenomena. It turns out to be more alive than you would think. Streams of water find their way through the ice mass from above (as opposed to below with most glaciers) and these rivulets in the glaciers make for incredible yet not harmless terrain for the novice polar tourist. Stone and sand have been deposited and frozen over the years, bizarre ice crystals make for a wondrous winter scene. Definitely not advisable for claustrophobically inclined people, and because of the increasing melt water, the stream at the bottom is becoming increasingly large. The guide therefore decides to seal the hole and not return there until after summer. It can best be compared to a sewer where you try to find your way between pound-hard ice.
The retreating glaciers prompted polar traveler Bernice Nooteboom to take a look here in April with dignitaries and convince them to speed up their sustainability plans. The critical 2 degrees of warming is a point of no return. For further research and exploration, Svalbard is of course the stepping stone for adventurous Arctic expeditions. The so-called "last degree" champagne tourists may hardly polish the shoes of true pioneers such as Roald Amundsen and Umberto Mobile. Where the latter pushed boundaries with hot-air balloons and literally put their lives on the line, wealthy North Pole tourists come by helicopter to raise a glass at the geomagnetic North Pole. Fair enough, occasionally they do ski the last degree and camp on the floating Arctic ice to cover the last 100 km on their own. How exactly they get enough sleep is anyone's guess because on Svalbard alone the sun doesn't set for 100 days during the summer months. You no longer have a clue about the time although reading a newspaper at 3:00 a.m. is quite extraordinary. On the flipside, however, there are 80 days of darkness. Perhaps this is why the Norwegian government decided to collect little or no tax locally and invest the little money directly locally. At least it offers another financial incentive to stay put here for some time. Really everything (even firewood, there are exactly zero trees in all of Svalbard) has to be imported and the prices are hefty.
The weather is brilliant at last and what a beautiful place this is with the bright light and the still snow-covered mountain peaks surrounding the fjords. With two Swedes and a Dane we get into the kayak and paddle to the other side of the Fjord. The wind picks up and we dock at an abandoned coal distribution center. It is yet another mine that closed after several years of operation; it simply could not be turned profitable. Equipment and people had to be shipped all the way to the far north and kept satisfied. On price, coal from here could never compete. The bankrupt companies could not even take back the last carts and huts and now they have been declared cultural heritage just like everything before 1945. From the hut we hope to see some Arctic foxes lurking for young birds and eggs. However, the shy animals do not show up and we turn right around to reach the other side just before the oncoming storm.
That afternoon, on the deck of the boat, whale meat is marinated and roasted on the barbecue. If this cannot be labeled as fish, it is my first meat in a long time, but it tastes like nothing. It is suddenly very quiet on the boat and everyone is sitting forward or huddled waiting out the strong waves.
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