Ship's Log: Day 12

October 17th



We got underway at around 7am. The passing mountains are a really rugged mix of black and white points. The sea looks dark and uninviting. We are heading for Poolepynten, a rocky sandbar island on Prins Karls Forlandet. We are all feeling anxious about having the time to get our work done. Aaron assured us that there would be time for projects once we arrived at Poolepynten.

Just off Poolepynten the Captain canceled any attempt to go ashore as the wind and sea were too rough. He thought there might be an alternative landing location later in the afternoon, but that was canceled as well due to the increasing stormy weather. The Noorderlicht was moving via motor power today as the wind is against us and we can't raise sail. The time at sea today, without the opportunity to get to shore, has increased the feeling that we are in some mad rush to return to Longyearbyen and then back home.

The Captain decided to head for Barentsberg, where several of the shipmates are eager to reach -- so they can hit the pub. Barentsberg is an old working Russian mining town. The Captain radioed ahead to request that they open the pub for our arrival and they've agreed. Ever since Ny-Ålesund we had hit some kind of tipping point and our return to civilization seems inevitable. Between the physical strain of trying to stay upright on a ship in rough weather (at one point, four of us lined up in the lower salon, all standing at a perfect 45 degree angle due to the tilt of the ship) and the psychological strain of approaching the end of my time in the Arctic I decided to spend most of the day in bed.



Ship's Log: Day 11

October 16th

We left Ny-Ålesund at first light. Everybody was moving pretty slowly from the night before (including some of the crew). I slept through breakfast for the first time (missing any of Anna's meals was a real hardship). I finally popped out of my bunk around 10am. Aaron said that we would be reaching our new destination of Kongsvegen/Kongsfjorden, by 11. He said I could have an hour of kayak time before lunch. I really need to get some detail shots so I jumped at the offer. I first filmed Audun putting on his drysuit and then lowering the kayak off the ship's side.



I then climbed out onto the bowsprits (the pole that sticks out very front of the ship) so I could get some overhead shots of Audun paddling. I had to get the Captain's OK for this since keeping one's balance on the bowsprits can be tough without all the ice that had formed on the ropes.




After filming from the bowsprits I joined Jan in the Zodiac and we followed Audun who was paddling off towards a glacier. The water was dark, menacing and full of ice. The closer we got to the glacier, the thicker the ice. At one point I asked Audun to paddle out a few meters and then turn and head back towards us. He started paddling away and just kept going. I thought he misunderstood me when he came to a halt. He then magically stepped out of the kayak onto a flat piece of floating ice!!! It looked like he was walking on water. He stood there for a minute, getting his balance, and then raised his arms above his head and smiled! He then gracefully got back into the kayak and paddled towards me as I had asked.



Our hour was up so we went back to the ship ... just in time for lunch (meat plate, cheese plate, mustard soup, salad, sardine pizza, and pasta with cheese and ham). After lunch, we all lined up to go ashore. I was in the third Zodiac trip. Sebastian was driving. We all looked heroic with our Arctic gear and cameras as we started motoring off towards the shore. We had gone about four feet when I looked out over the front of the Zodiac and called out, "Iceberg!" just as we hit it! This caused fits of laughter as we picked ourselves up off the Zodiac's floor. The Zodiac was punctured! As the air hissed out, Katja repeated, "there's a bloody hole in the Zodiac!". Crewmembers Jan and Sebastian clung to each other saying "we're scared" ... which sent us all into new fits of (somewhat hysteric) laughter. FYI ... a Zodiac is made of multiple inflated cells. Any number can be punctured without risking the buoyancy on the vessel. This is something most of us didn't realize until later.

Kongsvegen/Kongsfjoden was the most rugged landscape so far! Once we reached shore, we were able to walk right up to the narrow inlet in front of a massive glacier.



The spit of land that we were standing on was covered with all shapes of ice. Jan told us that the ice was due to the glacier calving and warned us to run (and leave our equipment behind) if we heard or saw the glacier calving. If a piece of the glacier falls ("calving") a large wave would completely cover the piece of land where we were all standing. With this warning in mind, I set up to document another of Katja's performances. Jan and Audun hiked to the top of a hill to watch over all of us.



Once we were all finished with our work for the day (this was such an amazing and dramatic landscape, many artists wanted to work on projects here) we started to walked back to the Zodiac pick-up point. As we were leaving I stopped, put down all my cameras and looked around ... telling myself, REMEMBER THIS!



Before dinner, I downloaded the footage I had shot onto the external hard drives that I had brought along (downloading was a time-consuming daily activity). Anna topped off this incredible day by serving rack of lamb. After dinner, Katja, Willie Somma (who was filming on the ship and hadn't made it ashore that day) and I asked Aaron if we could stay here for one more day. This will be our last glacier of the trip and we weren't ready to leave the dramatic ice behind. Aaron said it wasn't possible as rough weather was approaching and the Captain wanted to be sure we would arrive back at Longyearbyen on time (this alone was enough of a reason for all of us to be sad, but the thought of no more ice and returning to civilization reduced us all to tears). I'm living in a confusing state of mind ... I'm so attached to this landscape that I'm mourning its loss even while I'm still here and at the same time I'm really looking forward to seeing Bob and home.



That evening I got all set for a nice hot shower (soap and shampoo all in place), just to find out that the water was cold! I refused to take a cold shower, so I abandoned the idea for the moment, got dressed and joined the group watching a sci-fi film in the lower salon. After the film and a quick test of the water temperature, I happily enjoyed a hot shower. I've adopted a strategy of wearing all three thermal underwear shirts that I brought every day. I layer them, moving the one closest to my body to the outside layer each day in the hope that this would keep them "clean". This is why hot showers were so appreciated by me and the others who have to share such close quarters with me.


Ship's Log: Day 10

October 15

We arrived at Ny-London, an uninhabited former settlement which is the sight of a mine started by a British miner, Ernest Richard Mansfield in the early 1900s. He thought that he would be able to quarry for marble and make a fortune.


The marble was under the permafrost so when he brought it back to the UK it all cracked. This was not his first failed endeavor. He had tried to mine for gold as well which didn't pan out.


The whole group went ashore after breakfast. After debarking from the Zodiacs we climbed up a steep, rocky embankment. We followed some stone paths (laid by Mansfield's crew) that led to abandoned quarry equipment and huts. Eventually, some of the group decided to head back to the Noorderlicht. Katja and I opted to stay on land and film another of her performances. It was a cold day and the stone paths were treacherous with ice. After filming, we skated our way back toward the site where the Zodiac would pick us up. We met up with some others who had stayed behind to work. One by one, we sat on our butts and slid down the steep embankment onto the narrow stretch of beach. As I was waiting my turn my feet went out from under me and I started sliding away from the Zodiac and toward a rocky drop to the sea. Jan yelled out, "Grab her!" With amazing loyalty, dexterity, and super human strength, Katja reached out and caught my sleeve, dragging me away from the precipice and back to safety!



In the afternoon we motored down Kongsfjorden and docked at Ny-Ålesund. Ny-Ålesund is the world's furthest north settlement, populated by 27 international scientists. At present, Norway, The Netherlands, Germany, United Kingdom, France, India, Italy, Japan, South Korea and People's Republic of China all maintain research stations at Ny-Ålesund, although not all are inhabited year-round.It's the home of the world's northernmost post office. After a week aboard the Noorderlich it was strange to be around other people and a society other than the one onboard ship.


Jan said that we can buy phone cards and call home. After being completely cut off from civilization for ten days it felt strange to be able to finally contact the "real world." Katja and I walked up to the one tourist shop that said they were out of phone cards and that there was no internet access either. What ever hesitation we might have felt disappeared at the thought that we wouldn't be able to call home! Jan saw our distress and suggested we try the information office. They had three cards left! We each bought one. Jan had shown us the pay phone, which was a plywood box on the dock. It had the phone inside and a broken window which let the outside in. Katja and I were both relieved to learn that this public phone wasn't our only option -- we could use the phone in the information center after hours (so I could talk to Bob when he was awake and alert, rather than waking him at 4am).


Jan took a few of us for a guided tour of the town. We saw the mooring tower where Roald Amundsen began the first flight over the Arctic.


We next visited a small graveyard for miners killed in a mine explosion and a memorial for the Italian who accompanied Amundsen.


We walked a little further out of "town" to a camp ground. The scientists keep tourists well out of their way by requiring all visitors to overnight at this campsite. There was a toilet on a bridge with a "direct deposit" system into a stream far below. The campers were also expected to collect their drinking water at the point where this stream met the fjord. Not very welcoming!

Jan spoke with the scientist/technician at the German station and asked if he would give the whole group a tour in the evening. We had a fantastic inside look at the life and work of the German scientists who were studying atmospheric light refractions and weather changes. They sent up a daily weather balloon and had a beam of light that shot up into the atmosphere. It reminded me of the memorial beams of light that mark the location of the twin towers every September 11th in NYC. After the tour, the German scientist joined us back at the ship for dessert and drinks. Katja and I snuck off to the information center's phone and each called home. It was SOOOOO GREAT to talk to Bob!!! I can't believe how much I've missed his voice!!!

Once back at the ship, everyone including the scientist was in good spirits ... from lots of spirits. At about 2:30am I decided to head down to my bunk ... just when the dance party was hitting full swing.


Ship's Log: Day 9

October 14th



We sailed through the night. At breakfast, Jan told us that we would arrive at Magdalenafjorden by 11am. Shortly after breakfast the ship started rocking and rolling, throwing us about as if we were ping pong balls. I went up on deck to film the rolling seas. I've never seen anything like it. Aaron had to hang on to me while I was filming so I wasn't blown overboard. When I came back in, Willie (one of the artists) was in a complete state of panic, saying "please just make it stop."



It finally did when we arrived at the protected bay of Magdalenafjorden. Audun and I decided to take out the kayak even though there was a frozen rain falling and the swells were still pretty big for kayaking. Audun started out in the single and I shot from the Zodiac thinking that it would be easier to film that way ... it wasn't! I was thrown around in the boat and couldn't hold the camera steady at all. I had rigged the rain cover from my big Sony camera to fit my Cannon SLR. It required using electrical tape to secure the cover around the lens. This seemed like a good idea, but made it impossible to get to the focus ring. Most of what I shot was out of focus and jumpy. The few shots that I did get definitely show what rough water kayaking looks like, although my favorite shots are when I'm flying around yelling "I have no control of the camera!"




In the afternoon I filmed a project for Kuang-Yu Tsui while a large group took a hike to the glacier. Kuang-Yu stood on an iceberg (a dangerous move that had to be OK'd by both the Captain and Aaron) with a sign as if he were standing at a bus stop. Sebastian was driving the Zodiac. He would pull up to the iceberg, sort of ramming into it, and pick him up as if the Zodiac were the bus and he was the bus driver (even down to accepting the fare). It was difficult to shoot since it was raining and sleeting. I found it impossible to keep the lens clean and was frustrated at not being able to get a good shot. I was also wishing that I could have gone on the walk to the glacier.


Today was a tough day full of frustration. I'm realizing that the trip is coming to an end and I am missing shots that I need for my project. I'm feelings are so conflicted. I miss Bob and my life back in New York so much, but I also realize that this is the most amazing time and landscape that I've ever experienced and I don't want it to end. Matt Holzman described it well when he said he was experiencing "present nostalgia." I'm already missing the moments I'm living.

We raised sail about 3am and started to make our way to Ny Alesund. Shortly after our departure we hit some major weather. The ship was rolling like crazy. Both Katja and I woke up from being thrown about in our bunks and from the noise of things crashing around us. It sounded like every piece of glass on the boat was smashing. Katja and I played a guessing game of name that thing that just flew across our cabin ... tripods, pelican cases, boots, etc.

We have a porthole in the top of our cabin. We could hear all the people who had gone out on deck to get air. People were laughing (somewhat hysterically), screaming, and occasionally crying. Willie was freaking repeating "Oh la la, Oh la la!" Matt and a couple others were trying to make light of the fact that the ship had turned into a rollercoaster. Katja and I could hear Matt laughing (trying to sound reassuringly calm, but actually sounding a bit like a crazy man). A lot of Xanax was used that night -- people were just putting it in each other's mouths. It was definitely a night of Arctic hysteria and would forever after be referred to as the Night of Terror!

Ship's Log: Day 8

October 13th

In the morning, I checked on my poor, frozen camera. It seemed that a night tucked in under the covers had done the job and had brought it back to life.


We had moved to the other side of the fjord, near a massive glacier, Hornbaek polten/Liefdefjorden. My kayaks were again given to another artist who wanted to photograph a high powered light beam shining through the morning fog. He planned to put the light in the Zodiac and photograph its effects from the kayak. I was worried about the danger of bringing a high powered light and a generator out in a Zodiac in really rough iceberg-filled water. Thoughts of hairdryers falling into bathtubs (ten times over) filled my head. I decided the best way to deal with my fear for the crew and artist was to go back to sleep after breakfast. I woke up and they still weren't back. About half an hour later the kayak and Zodiac arrived back at the ship. Electrocution was avoided!


We then moved our location to Worsleghamns/Liefdefjorden. Worsleghamns has rolling hills, an old hunters hut, and is ringed by majestic mountains. A landing party climbed into the Zodiac. We were warned that it would be a rough, wet landing. True to the warning, it was hard to keep the Zodiac from flying out of control and shooting away from the shore. To avoid having the Zodiac flip over we all needed to get out and on to shore before the next wave came in. We employed a D-day kind of tactic, complete with everyone yelling "GO Marine,GO, GO!"

My turn came. I was wearing my big, new snowsuit which is incredibly warm ... so warm that I was sweating just sitting in the Zodiac, but also so bulky that I could hardly move. My back foot got caught in a Zodiac rope and I fell forward right into the freezing water. It brought a whole new meaning to the phrase wet landing. Luckily I had my camera and some spare gloves in my waterproof backpack. I changed into dry gloves, but my hands really cold for the rest of the day.

I filmed Katja close to the shore. Each time she performs the Fluxus instructions she has to deal with new challenges from the landscape. This time she was thigh deep in snow and had to fight to stay upright against gale force winds.


When Katja was finished we both hiked up the hill to film Audun who was watching over the group from the top ridge. It was rough going in the deep snow (and with my bulky snowsuit on), but I got some great footage of Audun watching for polar bears. After slogging back down the hill board the Zodiac, my body was dripping in sweat and my hands were ice cold.


The Zodiac ride back to the ship was really exciting ... huge waves and lots of spray. The wind caused the front of the Zodiac to rear almost straight up so we had to hang on for dear life. I couldn't wait to get into a hot shower!

Showering on the ship presents many challenges. First, timing ... with limited hot water it's tough to find a time when it hasn't all been used up. Second, movement ... it's hard to keep your balance when the ship is rocking and rolling. The toilet and shower are one small room. You pull a curtain across in front of the toilet to keep it dry. I would put my shampoo and soap box on the floor. As the ship rocked, these items would shoot under the curtain. If you waited a minute the ship would rock again and they would all come shooting back. If you timed it just right you could grab the shampoo, soap up, rinse and be ready for the conditioner the next time it came rolling back under the curtain.


Ship's Log: Day 7

October 12th

[click images to enlarge]

I woke up with only minutes till the breakfast bell. Anna, our amazing cook, is very strict regarding attendance at meals and enforces the "don't touch it till the bell has rung" rule with deadly looks. We all live in fear of pissing off Anna and missing out on her amazing culinary skills

Right after breakfast we took the Zodiac back to the same location where we were the day before to try and film Katja's performance ... this time minus the ice on the lens. The piece of land that we had crossed yesterday to get to the cove with all the bitty bergs was thigh deep in snow. We had trampled a path across the day before so the going was much easier today. As we were retracing out steps we noticed some yellow snow. Thinking it was probably an artist who had just had to go the day before, I didn't think much about it until Jan came striding up and said that it was from a polar bear, marking his territory. A little farther along we found HUGE tracks in the snow, complete with claw marks. A polar bear had checked out all the locations where artists were working yesterday. It was eerie knowing that our movements had been seen and explored by a bear. I spent the whole time looking over my shoulder as I was filming.



We went back to the ship for lunch. After lunch I joined the group heading out for a walk on shore. We landed at another location where we had spotted bear tracks from the ship. We all hoped that the tracks were old. Jan and David Rothenberg (a musician and composer who was recording the sounds of the Arctic) both had snow shoes so they struck out first. The rest of us without snowshoes slogged through knee deep snow. Hiking up and down steep slopes in knee deep snow was pretty tough. Occasionally we would just drop to our knees and just crawl. One of the scientists -- Dr. Yi-Ching Chung -- was short enough that we worried that we would lose her in the deep snow.


The going was tough, we were all sweating in no time. We hiked to a cabin called "Texas Bar" on the northern coast of Liefdefjorden. The hut was build by the Norwegian hunter Hilmar Nøis in 1927. It was in amazing shape and is still used by hunters, explorers, and recently, a BBC film crew. We had decided to heed the name and had brought a bottle of whiskey with us.

After passing around the bottle we scrambled up a few hills to see the view. It's hard to keep describing views -- adjectives like beautiful, amazing, and awe inspiring are starting to feel inadequate. We celebrated the amazing view with frozen Twix candybars! We spotted what Jan and Audun thought might be a bear on an island nearby that seemed to be tracking us so they decided to head back to the ship.



The going was much easier on the way home as we had already cut a path through the snow. We stopped for Leigh and Yi-Ching, two scientists on board, to collect samples. Once back on the Noorderlicht I just had time to warm up my cameras before heading out to film Tomislav Brajnovic's (from Croatia) performance. We have all become each others assistants on this trip. Tomislav is representing man's ego by wearing a custom made bodygear with lights that light up his face. Katja and I joined Sebastian in the Zodiac and circled the ship for the next half an hour, with both of us filming Tomislav's performance onboard.



Dinner was just being served as we returned to the ship. The sky was clear and the new moon was out. Katja is also working on a night sky piece so we loaded up new batteries and storage cards in all our cameras and hit the deck. The sky was full of stars with faint northern lights. Unfortunately, the cameras had a hard time picking up any detail in the night sky. We kept filming with my new Canon SLR (which doubles as a high-def video camera, and showed the most promise in catching detail). After about a half an hour or longer, the Canon shut down. I changed the battery and tried to take a picture. I heard sounds coming out of that poor camera no one should ever hear from a camera. With a great deal of panic, I put the camera to bed, under my covers and vowed to let it sleep till the morning ... desperately hoping that it would be OK tomorrow!


Ship's Log: Day 6

October 11th


We woke in the morning to a Caspar David Friedrich painting ... so many shades of white, pink, and blue. Just after breakfast we heard the ship's bell ring. The bell is used to call us to meals (we have all become some part of a Pavlovian experiment) and to alert is to exciting events on deck ... like polar bear sightings and the aurora borealis at night ... which we've saw last night!


Anyone who wasn't on deck ran up to see a young, thin male polar bear walking along the shore. These are the most dangerous bears. They are young and unpredictable and hungry enough to go after anything that might be a meal. The captain decided it was too risky to go ashore, but OK'd a kayak trip!

To my surprise another Arctic Circle Project participant asked to use the kayak to get an "on the water" perspective for one of his photographs. I was pretty hesitant to agree (actually I was downright disagreeable as he'd never kayaked in his life, which is dangerous enough in calm, warm water, but can be deadly in freezing water. I also view the kayaks as my art material which took months of planning to find and rent in Longyearbyen, and even more difficulty to get them on board). After a discussion with Aaron (read fight here ... that I lost) the other artist and Audun suited up in MY drysuits and set off. I waited impatiently for them to come back so I could go out in the kayaks and get some footage. I also felt bad for Audun who had to do double paddle duty ... although he didn't seem to mind. When Audun signed on as crew of the Noordrlicht he didn't know he was also signing on as a daily kayak paddler and star of my project.


When the other artist and Audun returned a thick fog had set in which created an amazing, otherworldly landscape for filming. I jumped in the Zodiac and filmed Audun first in the single, and then we pulled out the double. I sat behind and we struck out for the location where the polar bear was spotted (seems we both have a bit of the thrill seeker spirit). We couldn't find the bear so instead we headed towards the fjord's opening to the sea. Looking through the viewfinder, the image of Audun paddling hard looked amazing. I looked up from the view finder for a moment and found myself far from the ship, out in the bay with the waves and wind getting bigger by the minute. We had gone from water that looked like glass to white-capped waves washing over the kayak. To stop myself from freaking out I glued my eyes back to the viewfinder. It was a struggle to get back to the ship since we had the rudder up for better maneuverability. Eventually we had the Zodiac come alongside and Jan put the rudder in the water. I had to pop my kayak skirt to get to the rudder control cables ... something I was reluctant to do in rough water since I wasn't keen on taking in a lot of freezing water. Once we had the rudder down, Audun paddled hard and got us back to the ship safely.

Over lunch the ship sailed to Harnbaek polten/ Liefdefjorden. Anytime we sail or motor during a meal it's an event. Out come the sticky mats that help hold the plates and glasses on the table. Depending on how the boat is listing or rolling certain seats are tougher than others. On the downhill side, you have to hold on for all your worth and hope that the chair doesn't go out from under you. On the long benches, you prop one leg out to help hold you in place, which never quite works so you end up sliding up and down the bench. Meals usually have at least one or two crashes where glasses go flying. We also have learned that you can use bread to prop up one side of a plate to stop soup from spilling.


That afternoon Katja and I went ashore with a group of artists so she could perform another Fluxus instruction. We walked across a thin piece of land and found a beautiful cove full of ice and bitty bergs (bigger bitties than we've seen so far). It was an amazing location! A light snow was falling, which soon turned into freezing sleet which completely covered my lens. I tried to clean off the lens with a cleaning cloth, but it was more like using a scraper. After essentially chiseling the ice off the lens a couple of times we decided to call it a day and head back for the ship.



Ship's Log: Day Five

October 10th

We left Sallyhamna at 3am and headed farther north to Moffin Island which is at 80 north! Walrus came to meet us shortly after we arrived. The walrus may be responding to small boats as competition or reacting to human invasion of territory and past encounters with things like boat propellers. They have a strong history of aggression with both kayaks and zodiacs. They have been known to rear up out of the water and come crashing down with tusks and full body weight on small boats. Kayaking was cancelled for the day, but the Captain felt that we could use the zodiac safely to get to shore.


My roommate Katja and I joined a couple other artists who were heading to shore in the zodiac to work on projects. Katja's project was developing in a really interesting way and I was enjoying my role as her assistant. I had met Katja, who lives in Stockholm, during her Lower Manhattan Cultural Council residency in NYC few months before we left for the Arctic. Our program director, Aaron, had brought some of the participants together socially when time and location allowed. Katja and I hit it off immediately at one of these get togethers.

While she was in NYC I helped her film a segment for one of her ongoing projects that looks at light pollution's effects on the night sky. Unlike many participants, Katja and I had had the opportunity to become friends before the trip started and knew that we worked well together. What we didn't know was how quickly we would refer to ourselves as and act like an old married couple. She put up with my nightly freak out and hysteria when I couldn't find a certain cable and became sure that I wouldn't be able to film for the rest of the trip. She also graciously ignored the fact that I was usually holding the "lost" cable in my hand during my freak out. In our cramped quarters we moved seamlessly and usually ended up on deck with the life jacket that the other one had forgotten. I really value our conversations about our specific projects and look forward to continuing them after our return to the real world.


So, Katja and I headed off to Moffen Island to film another of her Fluxus instruction performances. Moffen is a completely flat island. It is protected breeding ground for walrus and eider ducks. For most of the year humans are not allowed to visit the island. Our timing was perfect since all breeding was over for the season and we were able to land. As we approached the island we saw large brownish shapes scattered on the beach. There were 25 walrus lying about. We had to take a long, indirect route, employing evasive maneuvers to avoid the walrus that were out swimming.


We hit the beach and I started filming Katja's performance. Four walrus swam along the shore and stopped just off the beach where we were filming. There were three adult males and one calf. They lined up four abreast and bobbed up and down, snorting and blowing. Svalbard tourist rules state that people are supposed to stay at least 30 meters from any walrus. We were less than 10 feet away! Both Audun and Jan came up behind us with guns ready, but they didn't ask us to move back and we all enjoyed the up close interactions.

We went back to the ship for lunch and then a larger group set out for the island in the afternoon. We took a hike across the island and saw a ton (literally) of walrus ... actually a few tons (one adult male weights two tons)! The snow was just below our knees for much of the hike, but it felt good to get some exercise.


Back on board we had yet another amazing meal. We traveled to Woodfjordan/ Mushamna in the evening, but it's was too dark outside to see what the area looks like.... have to wait till the morning.