STORFJORDEN and EDGEØYA

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In the bay north of Dolerittneset, on the north-western side of Edgeøya, lies Kapp Lee station with its characteristic round hut, which was called "the carousel".

Gyda and the ktech "Milestone" anchored off Kapp Lee station. Like so many places on the east side, it is long and shallow. "Milestone" had arrived from the north early in the morning after sailing south from Hinlopen all night. They had gone around the east side of Barentsøya and entered Storfjorden via Freemansundet, thus avoiding the current in Heleysundet.

We arrived after a bumpy night in Sundbukta. It is a good anchorage when the weather is coming from the north, but we got it from all sides so it became very rolly, leaving us quite exhausted.

It felt good to come ashore.

Several places on Edgeøya are well-known resting places for walruses. The bay north of Dolerittneset is one of them, as clearly evidenced by the bones left behind after the slaughter of the animals. The valley behind the station is grass-covered and beautiful. There are said to be around 2,500 reindeer on Edgeøya, which is undoubtedly due to the grass-covered valleys found here.

We enjoyed the day and strolled around the beautiful bay. The wind gauge indicated a north-westerly wind, and as we were well supplied from Sundbukta, we decided to check whether it was possible to find a suitable anchorage on Jakimovicøyane. In the afternoon, we set course northwards again.

The area around Jakimovicøyane is shallow, but coming from the south there is a channel with good depth all the way into the bay. We first checked out the small cove to the east, in the middle of the island, and it had good depth all the way to land, but it was narrow and did not provide enough swinging room. In an emergency we could have moored to land to prevent swinging, but we decided against it. We went a little further north on the island and anchored in the bay. Here there was good depth and solid holding ground.

The weather was glorious, so we enjoyed the evening and completely forgot to take pictures of the place.

It is just over 40 nautical miles down to Russebukta from Jakimovicøyane. Discobukta and the entire west side of Edgeøya also have poor sheltered anchorages if the weather comes from N-NW. Meterolygen still claimed that the wind would be from the NW for the next few days, so we found it most appropriate to set course south and aim to get into the lee of Kvalpynten and into Tjuvfjorden southwest of Edgeøya.

The day showed that the wind remained light and mostly from the west. It was evening when we arrived at Russebukta. Just south of this is Ekrollhamna, which is described in the "Cruise Handbook for Svalbard" as a safe harbour. Even though our forward-looking sonar was not working, we decided that we had to try to anchor there. It was virtually no wind and the sea was flat, so we raised the keel so that we were only 1.5 meter deep and carefully sneaked in from the north between Bjørneholmane and Terneøya. The echo sounder showed increasingly shallow depths, and with the skipper keeping watch in the bow, we carefully turned into a nice, sheltered area. This would be an ideal place to anchor, but the water quickly became shallower, and at the narrowest point between the islands in the north, it was only 2 metres deep. We hoped that there was a sandbank in the opening and that it would get deeper again on the inside, but when the echo sounder showed 1.7 metres, we had no choice but to reverse out the same way we had come in.

We had the same disappointing result when we tried from the west as well. It is possible that there is a channel into Ekrollhamna, but without sonar it was not possible for us to find it.

Habenichtbukta, located a little south of Ekrollhamna, could be an alternative, but landing on the north east side is prohibited, and without depth information on the nautical chart, we found that it would take another couple of hours to get there. Midnight had long passed, so it was time to call it a night. Since the weather was so calm, we turned east back to Russebukta and anchored there for the night.

Our reward was brushing our teeth at night with a beautiful view of the sea and fantastic light. The midnight sun has become noticeably lower in the sky now.

The next day continued with beautiful weather and calm winds, so the diesel engine had to provide the propulsion as we set course southwards. We relaxed and simply enjoyed life. With only one engine running at economy speed, there is not much noise on board. As usual, the skipper is in charge of home production, while the captain keeps watch.

These are characteristic formations that are frequently seen on Edgeøya. Here we pass Årdalsnuten, which stretches southwards to Kvalpynten.

After rounding Kvalpynten, we set course for Andrèetangen. The wind takes pity on us and gives the genoa a little push, allowing us to increase our speed by a couple of knots. Ahead of us, we see Tjuvfjordhorga with Negerdalen, Negerfjellet and Edgeøya's southernmost point, Negerpynten. Negerfjellet consists mainly of black slate, hence its name.

A few years ago, the skipper read the book "Isbjørnlandet" (Polar Bear Country) by Birger Amundsen. He has worked as a field researcher in Svalbard for more than 20 years and has had countless encounters with polar bears.

One summer, while stationed at the cabin on Andrèetangen, he came into close contact with an orphaned polar bear cub that he named "Bamsetasen", which is a recurring theme in the book.

Since reading the book, the skipper has always had a dream of visiting Andrèetangen to experience the area where the story unfolded, with the cabin, the walruses on the beach and maybe even "Bamsetassen".

We slowly approached Pontongen and the beach by the cabin. On land, there was a herd of walruses, and we dropped anchor and let the boat rest to check out the conditions. Instead, it was us who were checked out. No sooner had the boat come to rest than four well-grown animals came over and inspected us.

We soon realised that this was not a good place to stay. The current in the sound between Pontongen and Galleriholmen increased steadily with the ebb tide, and a number of rocks gradually became visible quite close to where we were moored. When the tide turned, we would come into conflict with these. Right next to Pontongen, we couldn't stay without getting too close to the walruses.

All we had to do was move to the other side of the sound. We found a good spot on the north side of Delitchøya. Eventually, we also discovered that there is a usable anchorage in the opening between Delitchøya and Zeiglerøya.

Excited and full of anticipation, the skipper finally stands on Andrèetangen. The weather is at its best. It is late in the evening, but with the midnight sun shining brightly, all that remains is to give in and enjoy life.

In the background, we can see the cabin, and we can clearly hear a herd of walruses lying by the point and snoring.

We strolled calmly around the animals, which did not bat an eyelid, and sat down on the rocky ridge on the east side of the cabin with a good view of the walruses and Bjørnbukta behind us. As far as we could tell, there were no females in the herd, at least not with calves. Once again, it was important to keep an overview. We were sure there were bears in the area, even though we couldn't see any at that moment.

The herd consisted of about 60-70 animals, but smaller groups came and went constantly. Most of the time they lay quietly, making their usual snorting and farting noises, but suddenly some animals would "stand up" and bellow so loudly that it could be heard far away. It seemed to us that they were marking their strength and position in the herd hierarchy.

Researchers are clearly monitoring the beach and the walrus herd.

The cabin was open, so we looked inside and the skipper found the cabin logbook, which was duly checked. The logbook showed that it had been a while since anyone had stayed in the cabin, although it was clear that some work had been done inside.

We found that there was a hole in the roof outside in the hallway, so it probably won't be long before a bear finds its way in that way, which we noted in our obliged travel report to the Governor, so we hope that it will be repaired before winter sets in.

We also found interesting information about the origins of the cabin written in the cabin logbook. This information is completely different from what is written in the "Cruise Handbook for Svalbard"; At Andréetangen, between Zieglerøya and Delitschøya, there is a cabin that was built by Henry Rudi in 1946.

We have sent the Polar Institute and editor Bjørn Fossli Johansen an email with the photo below to bring this to their attention, but we have not heard back from them.

Eventually, you can feel in your stomach that the day (night) is coming to an end. It is approaching mid-August and the midnight sun is noticeably lower on the horizon. The light and atmosphere are magical, and we retreat to the boat where we enjoy life with a fire on the barbecue. What a day and what an experience... It is simply impossible to describe how beautiful and incredible this is. Not a soul in sight, just us and nature...

We enjoy our meal out in the cockpit. Full and well fed, we try to let the impressions of a long day sink in. We both agree on how lucky we are. Not many people get to experience this.

As we sit there, a group of young walrus boys (their short tusks give them away) swim cautiously towards us. They are accompanied and guarded by an older uncle, as this is clearly scary stuff. Occasionally, they stand tall in the water and look at us sceptically, then suddenly, almost as if terrified, they race backwards and disappear into the water, before reappearing a little closer. They huddle together and try to pluck up the courage to come a little closer each time. We sit on the deck and enjoy ourselves immensely – what entertainment!

When the captain pulls up to the bow with his camera, there is commotion and they flee in apparent panic, but immediately reappear. This is obviously very exciting for them... Eventually, their curiosity is satisfied and they move out into Tjuvfjorden.

Silence descends, and we are tired. It is late at night, but on days like this, the sense of time ceases to exist.  Everything is just perfect, and we really feel that life is good. This will be difficult to top...

Then suddenly something happens that just couldn't be possible, the skipper almost gasps... "Bamsetassen"...

As out of nowhere, we see a polar bear strolling along the shore of Delitchøya. At it´s closest, perhaps 100 metres away, it stops and stands for a long time, squinting at us. There is probably still the smell of barbecue ribs in the air... Eventually, it moves to the other side of the island, but soon reappears at the water's edge facing the sound and starts swimming, first straight towards us, before turning and heading across the sound towards the walruses, albeit at a safe distance.

For a moment, we hope that it will try its luck with the herd, as that would give us front row seats, but it has probably been out on a winter's day before because when it reaches the shore, it just looks longingly at all the delicious food lying around.Polar bears rarely manage to catch adult healthy walruses on land. Walruses can actually be a real threat to an attacking bear when they defend each other in a herd. With their tusks, they can seriously injure an attacker.

In the sea, the bear usually stands no chance, as walruses are considerably faster than bears in water.

The bear strolled calmly northwards, eventually out of sight.

We stood completely still for a long time, unable to believe it. The undisputed highlight of the trip...

From Andrèetangen towards Tjuvfjordlaguna and Schneiderberget on the right. We took the dinghy and cruised across the calm sea. It was an incredible experience to have all this fantastic nature completely to ourselves. Not a soul in sight...

The next day, we met a film crew who had hired a fishing boat with a crew to film polar bears hunting walruses, and they told us that Tjuvfjordlaguna was open and that the glacier there had collapsed into the lagoon. We would have liked to check it out, but our rubber boat is too flimsy and the engine too small for us to embark on such long excursions.

We stay at Andrèetangen for a couple of days taking the dinghy as far away from Gyda as we dare in our flimsy craft. It would be a long way to row home if we were unlucky enough to break the propeller or damage the engine, and we are not particularly keen on encountering a swimming polar bear or walrus if we were without an engine, so we choose to keep our excursions relatively short, but there is plenty to see and discover wherever we go.

Below is a plundered eider duck's nest. There is a good chance that it was the bear that managed to surprise the eider duck in its nest.

It is possible to anchor in the sound between Zeiglerøya and Delitchøya, but it becomes too shallow towards the narrowest part. Tjuvfjordhorga and Negerfjellet in the background.

The fishing boat with the film crew was anchored on the north side of Zeiglerøya, waiting for a bear hungry enough to try its luck with the walrus herd at Andrèetangen.

We, on the other hand, had to think about the crossing back to the mainland. Time was running out on us, so we checked the weather forecasts carefully for the days ahead. All forecasts indicated relatively weak southerly winds. We had plenty of diesel on board, so we weren't too worried, but we would have preferred not to have to motor the whole way.

The trip around Svalbard had provided many wonderful experiences and impressions. The nature was as expected: majestic, capricious and unpredictable. One moment there was thick fog, whipping wind, rain and snow, the next there was blue skies, calm winds and nights with a majestic midnight sun high in the sky.

It is a very special experience to be so far away from civilisation, knowing that we are often completely alone. Everything has to work, and you have to do everything you can to avoid ending up in unfortunate situations. Help is a long way away here, but that is precisely what gives a trip like this that extra dimension. It's just incredibly exciting.

The weather shows no signs of changing, and the weather forcast gives us no hope of wind, so we decide to let the diesel beast start the journey. We spend the day making the boat shipshape and ready for the crossing. The dingy is packed and stowed in the bow compartment, the rigging and engines are checked, and below deck all loose items are packed.

The grab bag is prepared, and the thermos is filled with hot water. By late afternoon, we are ready. We eat a light meal while we make a rough plan for the crossing. We then let the food settle for an hour before raising the anchor and let go.

It's great to feel that all the routines are in place. Preparation, who does what when, and in no time we both are standing in the cockpit with our life jackets on, the engines running and everything ready. The skipper handles the boat, while the captain brings the anchor on board and tie it down so it remains steady in case we encounter rough seas during the crossing.

When the captain straightens his back and can gaze out to the horizon again, we have passed the sound between Pontongen and Galleriholmen and are heading south towards Negerodden.

It is late afternoon when we set out into the sound at Andreètangen. We plan to head out at Negerpynten and continue south between Halvmåneøya and Menkeøyane. The evening sun is clearly much lower in the sky now than when we arrived in Svalbard, and the faint reddish-brown light casts a beautiful colour over everything. With only one engine running at economy speed, we maintain a speed of 5.5 knots and it is pleasant to be on board. The autopilot is in control, and we both sit in the cockpit and enjoy ourselves.

As we approach Negerpynten, we spot something up on the mountainside. A distinct white spot that is moving.

A hungry polar bear has climbed up under the cliffs where the birds nest in large numbers and is now scouring the area for bird nests to plunder.

It's very steep where it stands, but with its "four-wheel drive" mode it clearly makes it up. We slow down and turn towards the beach below. We hope to see some nice close-up´s, but we are disappointed. It is very shallow towards the shore, so we can't get closer than a couple of hundred metres. When the depth gauge shows 2 metres, we give up and start drifting. Down on the beach a little further south, we see something white that must be a bear. It's quite large, could it be two cubs? If so, they are lying completely still...

As we pass, we see that it is a large bear lying on its stomach, asleep. It wakes up and lifts its head slightly to look at us, before lowering its head again and lying down to continue sleeping. No need to waste energy. It must be a lot of effort for such a big bear to climb around here, hoping to catch some measly little birds.

We pass Edgeøya's southernmost point, set course eastward, and shortly thereafter pass Menkeøyane and can set course directly for the mainland, Skjervøy in Troms. Watch routines are established, and we head into the night. As we turn, we see Edgeøya slowly disappearing more and more. We can glimpse the mountains of Sørkapp for a good while, but eventually there is only sea around us on all sides.

During the night, the wind picks up enough to fill the sails, and we motor sail at a steady 6.5 knots. So far, visibility is good, and we can see the island Hopen. With this course, we will pass quite close. We considered whether we should go ashore so that we could say we had been to the island, but after a brief discussion, we agreed that this type of tourism is best left to the Japanese. We are here, but we will just sail calmly past. We can hear the guys at the station talking on the VHF. It doesn't matter that it's the middle of the night, it's as bright as day, so they're messing around with a dinghy, from what we can gather from their conversation.

Hopen is a long, narrow island with no good harbour facilities. With the water as calm as it was, it would have been easy to go ashore, but we decided not to. Maybe another time...

We kept a close eye on the weather forecast in the hope that some wind might be on its way, but it was clear that we would have to go well south of Bjørnøya before we could expect the wind to pick up. Eventually, it died down completely and fog rolled in.

It wasn't until we were well south of Bjørnøya that the wind picked up, and we could shut down the diesel engine. A steady, pleasant wind made the rest of the journey a breeze.

As usual, the fulmars circled around us, but one in particular circled around us for a couple of hours. Again and again it came up from behind close up to the rail, where it almost stopped and hung in the air for a few seconds, looking at us, before diving back down to the water's surface and picking up speed for another round. When we tried to take out our camera when it came right up to us, it turned away and kept its distance. A shy fulmar...

We also had two guests on board. A black-headed gullimut and a sandpiper took the opportunity to rest for an hour or so and got a free ride south. The sandpiper in particular demonstrated good aerodynamic skills as it sat and balanced on the cabin roof. The wind was blowing at 15 knots, and the boat was travelling at 8 knots, but after much trial and error, it found a spot where the wind couldn't catch it, and it was able to just sit back and ride the movements of the boat.