Edgeöya, Svalbard
We got an early wakeup call this morning. At 4:30 expedition leader Bud announced that a large polar bear had been spotted, lying down on an ice floe. After a while the bear stood up and started his breakfast – the remains of a seal. During the night National Geographic Endeavour had sailed southward from Barentsöya through patches of drift ice. After breakfast two groups of hikers landed at the southwestern tip of Edgeöya while the rest enjoyed a Zodiac cruise along the coast. By then another four bears had been spotted – two individuals on separate ice floes and two more ashore in the far distance.
Edgeöya is the third largest island of Svalbard. The western side of this island is surprisingly lush; such luxuriant vegetation is otherwise limited to areas like the fjords of western Spitsbergen. This explains the key role of Edgeöya in the history of fur trapping on Svalbard. Since the early 18th century both Russian and Norwegian trappers found this island ideal for the harvest of wildlife. Most were farmers and fishermen whose main crops were the pelts of polar bear and arctic fox. Early on, walrus was an important catch as well. Seals were hunted to feed their sled dogs. Reindeer, ptarmigan, geese and seabirds provided their own diet. Limiting the number of hunting territories to 45 ensured a sustainable harvest of wildlife. Each territory had one main cabin. In addition there were a number of smaller huts where the trappers might stay away for a few days at a time, and also providing shelter in stormy weather. Normally two to four men would winter in such a basic dwelling. Each hut had only one or two rooms: beds, a stove, table and a few simple stools.
During our hike we saw the remains of one such cabin in the distance. In the past there would have been a tall frame nearby to keep the stored seal meat out of reach of hungry polar bears. Only the most fit and skilled trappers managed to overwinter under such conditions, and many hunters perished. The most dramatic recorded example of survival is without doubt the story of the Russian Aleksej Himkov and his three companions who were marooned on Edgeöya in 1743 and not rescued until six years later. With little or no equipment they made their own tools and weapons, and avoided scurvy by eating fresh reindeer meat and drinking blood. One of the trappers who refused to drink blood indeed perished. The remaining three were in good shape when they were finally discovered in 1749. From the early 20th century only Norwegian fur-trappers wintered on Svalbard. Today a mere handful of trappers’ cabins here are still used by those who want to keep this tradition alive.
As we hiked uphill at the northern end of Kvalpyntfjellet, an increasingly lush green plateau formed the softest carpet a hiker could ever dream of. Colourful pillows of moss campion and a number of other wildflowers captivated the plant lovers. What a contrast to the sparse vegetation and barren landscapes we have seen since we left the west coast of Spitsbergen a few days ago. From here we went up to a tiny lake with a great flock of bathing kittiwakes and a king eider with five ducklings. An Arctic fox was busy trotting around the lake. A single reindeer buck posed elegantly on a ridge against a backdrop of ice floes. The trills of little auks sounded from the steep hills high above. In this pristine, remarkable landscape we could sense unforgettable peace and tranquillity.
Later that afternoon four more bears were observed on ice floes. The last three – a female with two half-grown cubs on a tiny ice floe – came out of the fog like off-white ghosts. What a sight to remember! With 10 polar bears on this last day alone, Bud announced that the number of polar bears sighted had reached 36 - the highest number of sightings in a single trip of any Lindblad expedition to Svalbard.
The wintering fur-trappers of Kvalpynten have long since disappeared, but the many polar bears we saw today in the ice off Edgeöya are proof of the ecological “treasure chest” still to be found in this remote corner of the Arctic.
We got an early wakeup call this morning. At 4:30 expedition leader Bud announced that a large polar bear had been spotted, lying down on an ice floe. After a while the bear stood up and started his breakfast – the remains of a seal. During the night National Geographic Endeavour had sailed southward from Barentsöya through patches of drift ice. After breakfast two groups of hikers landed at the southwestern tip of Edgeöya while the rest enjoyed a Zodiac cruise along the coast. By then another four bears had been spotted – two individuals on separate ice floes and two more ashore in the far distance.
Edgeöya is the third largest island of Svalbard. The western side of this island is surprisingly lush; such luxuriant vegetation is otherwise limited to areas like the fjords of western Spitsbergen. This explains the key role of Edgeöya in the history of fur trapping on Svalbard. Since the early 18th century both Russian and Norwegian trappers found this island ideal for the harvest of wildlife. Most were farmers and fishermen whose main crops were the pelts of polar bear and arctic fox. Early on, walrus was an important catch as well. Seals were hunted to feed their sled dogs. Reindeer, ptarmigan, geese and seabirds provided their own diet. Limiting the number of hunting territories to 45 ensured a sustainable harvest of wildlife. Each territory had one main cabin. In addition there were a number of smaller huts where the trappers might stay away for a few days at a time, and also providing shelter in stormy weather. Normally two to four men would winter in such a basic dwelling. Each hut had only one or two rooms: beds, a stove, table and a few simple stools.
During our hike we saw the remains of one such cabin in the distance. In the past there would have been a tall frame nearby to keep the stored seal meat out of reach of hungry polar bears. Only the most fit and skilled trappers managed to overwinter under such conditions, and many hunters perished. The most dramatic recorded example of survival is without doubt the story of the Russian Aleksej Himkov and his three companions who were marooned on Edgeöya in 1743 and not rescued until six years later. With little or no equipment they made their own tools and weapons, and avoided scurvy by eating fresh reindeer meat and drinking blood. One of the trappers who refused to drink blood indeed perished. The remaining three were in good shape when they were finally discovered in 1749. From the early 20th century only Norwegian fur-trappers wintered on Svalbard. Today a mere handful of trappers’ cabins here are still used by those who want to keep this tradition alive.
As we hiked uphill at the northern end of Kvalpyntfjellet, an increasingly lush green plateau formed the softest carpet a hiker could ever dream of. Colourful pillows of moss campion and a number of other wildflowers captivated the plant lovers. What a contrast to the sparse vegetation and barren landscapes we have seen since we left the west coast of Spitsbergen a few days ago. From here we went up to a tiny lake with a great flock of bathing kittiwakes and a king eider with five ducklings. An Arctic fox was busy trotting around the lake. A single reindeer buck posed elegantly on a ridge against a backdrop of ice floes. The trills of little auks sounded from the steep hills high above. In this pristine, remarkable landscape we could sense unforgettable peace and tranquillity.
Later that afternoon four more bears were observed on ice floes. The last three – a female with two half-grown cubs on a tiny ice floe – came out of the fog like off-white ghosts. What a sight to remember! With 10 polar bears on this last day alone, Bud announced that the number of polar bears sighted had reached 36 - the highest number of sightings in a single trip of any Lindblad expedition to Svalbard.
The wintering fur-trappers of Kvalpynten have long since disappeared, but the many polar bears we saw today in the ice off Edgeöya are proof of the ecological “treasure chest” still to be found in this remote corner of the Arctic.
