20 July 2022

The landscape stores memories, and some of them can be revived. When we landed on Kapp Lee on 17 July, many encounters unfolded. We could not miss the traces of Pomor walrus hunting; unnumbered bones and skulls with cut off noses were scattered around a large area. The archeologist could inspect the site with remains of the Pomor cabin, and a small group accompanied Ko de Korte closer to the huts he and his three comrades used during their overwintering year 1968-1969, performing arange of scientific tasks. The spacious and according to Ko also cosy cabin where they spent most of their time is no longer there, and the thriving walrus population is an unusual sight for Ko; in the 1960s, there were only very few on Svalbard, while now they are abundant. We approached carefully and observed a group of about 50 walrus males while the pinniped interested researcher collected the „reports“ they leave behind when done with digesting the delicacies they find in the sea. 

Yet we don't interact only with large sea mammals, birds or plants. A virus came to visit, and some passengers choose to spend a day or two in their cabins in the company of COVID-19. But we have already learned how to live with that form of life invisible to naked eye. Polar bears, on the contrary, are something we struggle to cope with; the animal is often too far away for good observation, but too present for relaxed landings. Only smaller groups of scientists and journalists, easier to evacuate fast in case of emergency, can go on land, and others have to accept their expectations will remain unfulfilled for the day. But when Ko de Korte plays his favourite blues and tells the myriads of stories about his time on Kapp Lee in the 1960s, many disappointed souls are comforted.

Time spent in Russebukta brings opportunities for many. All sorts of scientific tasks are being performed, people hike, Arctic Academy participants watch and join scientists in their efforts. The glacier remains unreachable for the researchers heading there, but lakes are being sampled, vegetation plotted and examined, sea weed collected during the short time of low tide, soil cores are being drilled, the active layer of permafrost measured with a radar, plastic litter collected, and even more is going on the suddenly „crowded“ plains of Russebukta.

The colourful mosaic of people and stories on board of Ortelius is getting more and more complete. We learn about each other’s work through the short talks given in the lecture room, but not only scientists contribute. We also learn about educational efforts of a teacher on board, the policy maker’s visions, and the life of one of the guides at a trapper station. 

On Wednesday 20 July, there is time for group reflections, and we discuss and share in the fog, getting cold on our feet but warmed up in our heads and hearts. The evening landing at Gnålodden feels like a generous gift, a breathtaking spot where a few people work and many wander around in awe. There is beauty that an ordinary blog prose can never express.