July 22, 2026

We awoke anchored by high sea cliffs off the eastern shore of Spitzbergen and emerged onto the balcony to find ourselves surrounded by guillemots. Black and white, a bit like penguins, they are definitely not designed for flight, but are aquatic acrobatics, flying underwater as far as 650 feet in search of food. 

On the surface, however, they are ungainly and comical. The come in for landings with their feet outstretched and listing from side to side, and when taking off their wings beat the water for quite a distance before they gain altitude, creating a sound like a card in a bicycle spoke.

The cliffs at Alkefjellet contain one of the world’s largest concentrations of these Brűnnich’s guillemots, 60,000 breeding pair. As we boarded the zodiacs and approached the cliffs, the scene became one from Hitchcock’s “The Birds,” with guillemots circling above us many layers deep and swooping by the zodiacs, barely missing us. 

They nest in the summers along the cliff wall, sometimes on ledges no more than a few inches, and produce pear-shaped eggs so they don’t roll. At three weeks, the chicks jump (or are nudged) into the surging waves below and taught to hunt by their father. 

Glaucous gulls, huge and white, surf the cliffs in search of eggs and newborn chicks, and Arctic fox, brilliantly camouflaged in their summer coats, prowl from below. 

The cliffs themselves are spectacular basalt columns decorated with emerald mosses and draped with waterfalls, and with the guillemot’s circling like Alaskan mosquitos, the scene is otherworldly.

So much for the morning. The afternoon was scheduled to be a landing at Torellneset, a spit that juts from eastern shore north of the cliffs and famous for it’s large walrus haul out. As usual, our guides scouted the area first and the landing was cancelled due to a distant polar bear sighting. It was judged safe for zodiacs, so we piled in and made a pass of the shore.

The walruses numbered about 70, and they were a breeding colony with several young walrus pups.

However, the ride was so choppy that what I saw was a blur of brown through my binoculars, and the flash of the colorful parkas of my fellow travelers and the blue of the waves.

Thank goodness Erich had brought his 600mm zoom and set a fast shutter speed.

Soon our guide’s radio cracked to life: “Polar bear on the beach! Stay back. Stay back!”

In the distance two white dots walked towards us, a mom and her cub.

I could see them fairly well with the binoculars, but Erich got some amazing shots considering we were riding 3-4 foot waves.

The bears got closer, the mom sniffed the air, and we were asked to leave and the second cruise was cancelled for our safety, as the bears see us as food and have been known to swim rapidly and for days in search of meals.

Back aboard, the bears continued in our direction and sauntered across a ridge directly off our bow. The mom all business with an occasional sniff of the air, the cub playing behind her in the snow then running to catch up.

The Arctic, unforgettable, all in one day.