Prins Karls Forland

We had been looking forward to visiting Prince Carl Forland. Especially since a small herd of walruses regularly gathers at Poole Point. This large headland juts out into the sound from Austflya, lying between Prince Carl Forland to the west and Spitsbergen to the east. On some maps, it is referred to as Price Point. The sound between them is called Forlandsundet. After spending time in Longyearbyen, we arrived in Trygghamna, where it was sunny and fine in the morning. We motored out and rounded Alkhornet, a well-known landmark in Isfjorden.

The distinctive triangular shape of the mountainside is the famous Alkhornet. NRK has broadcast several programmes about the drama that unfolds here every summer, when the chicks of the Alkekonge colony throw themselves off the steep mountainside in the hope of gliding down to the sea. If they miss, they end up in the ravine below — usually in the jaws of a hungry polar fox.

After passing Alkhornet, we enjoyed a pleasant sail westward past Wilkinsbukta. However, as we approached Daumannodden, the wind died down and we encountered sea fog.

Once again, it was the radar that helped us to navigate safely. Eventually, we turned north into Forlandsundet under engine power. As time passed and we approached Poole Point without seeing anything, the mood on board declined. If we were lucky, we might see walruses, but first the fog had to lift.

The 'stupid' thing about sea fog is that it's only 10–30 metres thick. Above it, there can be bright blue skies and sunshine. Occasionally, it seemed as if it was clearing up a little, but then it would settle heavily and greyly over the sea again.

Then, suddenly, it was as if we were driving through a wall: we were out of the fog, and the headland with Sysselmannhytta and the sea mark were right ahead of us, bathed in sunshine. 

Sure enough, there was a herd of walruses there, too! Fantastic! We glided slowly past as close to the shore as possible and turned into the bay on the north-western side of the point.

We anchored there and put the dinghy in the water. It was exciting! If there were walruses there, there might well be bears too, so the Captn made sure his "gunnar" was loaded. We crept towards the point, unsure how the animals would react if they caught our scent.

But it was impossible to arrive unannounced here. The red-billed terns had built their nests on the beach and made a huge racket if we got too close. They screamed and shouted and dived.

They weren't particularly clever, though, so as long as we held up a stick — or gunnar, in this case — they attacked that instead. They always pecked at the highest point.

The poor feathered creature exhausted itself to no avail while screaming and shrieking. With all that commotion and the warning about uninvited guests, the walruses had probably disappeared long ago.

As if the boys cared! Not at all. There was snoring, burping, farting and flatulence. What a bunch... They're just males, so they're not aggressive unless you get too close and disturb them. This is unlike the herd that lives permanently on Moffen, one of the northernmost islands in Svalbard. At this time of year, the herd there consists only of mothers with youngsters, and they can be very aggressive if you get too close to them. That's why landing is banned there until the end of August. You're not even allowed to sail closer than 300 metres to the island.

So, this is much better: There's sun and beautiful nature, but also a bunch of snoring old walruses like beach lions.

As long as we moved quietly, they didn't seem to mind that we were there. However, it was clear that they were watching us. We eventually got quite close, but we kept a safe distance in case they needed to turn around quickly. They are fascinating creatures.

Had this one been out in rough weather? Or was it perhaps an old animal?

On the picture below: He was one of the largest, clearly dominated the herd. He emerged from the sea while we were standing there.

We spent a couple of wonderful hours on the beach with these fascinating animals. As can be seen in the photo above, the sea fog is clearly defined. Fortunately for us, the sea remained calm.

The entire shoreline out here on the headland is littered with driftwood.

It was getting late in the afternoon and we had heard that Dahlbreebukta, on the opposite side of the fjord, would be a great place to anchor. We returned to the boat and crossed Forlandsundet towards Dahlbrebukta. Here, the glacier had retreated, creating a beautiful lagoon. However, the seabed was covered in thick seaweed.

This was the only time we had to make two attempts to secure the anchor properly. Our SPADE anchor usually works very well, and we are very satisfied with it. However, when it is filled with seaweed like this, it is almost impossible to get a hold, regardless of what type of anchor you have.

On our second try, we managed to secure the anchor well and this was a great spot to drop the hook.

It's a nice place to brush your teeth in the evening, and it's also well-lit, so you can see what you're doing.

Then the fog rolled in. However, we were hopeful that the weather would improve the following day, as our destination was Kongsfjorden and Ny-Ålesund.

The next morning, the fog was thick and grey. To reach Kongsfjorden, we had to continue north through Forlandsundet and pass Forlandsrevet, an area of shallow water with a minimum depth of just 3–4 metres in the channel and a strong current. Having good and accurate bearings on the navigation marks was crucial to avoid running aground.

Once again, we relied on the radar to navigate our way out through the ice in Dahlbrebukta. The glacier had calved during the night and, until just before we reached Ny-Ålesund, we were in a grey world, unable to see anything.

Here, the plotter is set up with a split screen, with the map on the left and the radar on the right. The two images are slightly distorted in relation to each other: the map is set to 'North up', while the radar shows 'Heading up'. The triangle labelled 'Eltanin' is an AIS (Automatic Identification System) marker on a boat behind us.

This is a very useful tool for keeping track of other traffic around us and ensuring that other vessels with similar equipment can see us.

We spoke to the crew of a Polish sailing boat that was going to pass Forlandsrevet at the same time as us, but from the north. We clarified who was on whose side. However, even though they were only about 100 metres away according to the radar, we could not see them. A good radar is absolutely essential in these waters.

As we rounded Kongsfjordnesset and set course for Kongsfjorden, there were lots of echoes on the radar, indicating that there was a lot of ice in the fjord.

With only 10-15 minutes left until we arrive, the fog lifts and we can see Ny-Ålesund ahead on the starboard bow.