July 21-22, 2026

We thought the day was made after our polar bear sighting, but the Arctic had more entertainment in store.

First up, the Polar Plunge. It was a calm day with light wind, and the captain thought conditions were perfect for the fabled jump. Having done this in Antarctic sun, I was a little bit daunted by the overcast skies and the icebergs floating around the proposed jump site.

But, you only live once, and I wanted to say I’d jumped across the world, so I threw myself in with the 50 or so passengers that were equally insane. We did the pre-jump briefing decked out in our bathrobes, and followed the briefing with a rousing group Nordic row. Our group was up first, and our trip leader was going to jump first to show us how it’s done. Once we were in line, they informed him it would have to be a guest, so I was the first to jump. I’m sure that affected what would have otherwise been a perfect “10,” but sadly I scored a mediocre “6,” which added to my distress about seeing myself on video in a swimsuit.

I relaxed post-plunge in the jacuzzi with a hot toddy and a view of the ice-strewn bay and glacier. Glad I did it, my last polar plunge in this lifetime.

Our zodiac tour was early in the afternoon, and my gloves had finally dried, so I wasn’t looking forward to a re-wetting, and almost passed on the tour. That would have been quite the mistake!

We cruised towards the face of a glacier in Binnebukta, resplendent in shades of blue. Small caves were carved at the base, and Erich jokingly asked if we were going into one of them, at which point the show began. 

With a thunderous crack, a chunk of the glacier calved from the roof of one of the caves. Perplexed that the sound didn’t match the size, we sat puzzled until a much larger chunk of the glacier face slid away, generating a large wave. Soon thunder surrounded us, as pieces of the glacier peeled away creating mini-tsunamis in the bay.

Our guide’s radio came alive with the panicked squawking of the bridge “get away, get away, the glacier is unstable!” We retreated amongst the icebergs, and then the second act began. An iceberg laden with black-legged kittiwakes was slapped with the large waves and began to waver, sending the birds aloft. 

We watched in amazement as the iceberg rolled, establishing a new equilibrium, and sending waves back towards the glacier face.

I have a frenzied video of the scene, which captures mostly my fellow travelers yelling “over there!” “No, over there!,” and my camera swings back and forth between the glacier face, waves and the rolling iceberg. No photo can capture it, and apparently no video made by me either!

Some things are best meant to live in memory, and this will be a four-star one, surfing the mini tsunamis of calving glaciers and rolling icebergs to the soundtrack of thunder.