It's easy to believe that the dark season and the polar night are the same thing, but that's not the case. The difference is defined by how far the sun is below the horizon. The polar night is a rare phenomenon that occurs on the northern hemisphere at latitude 72°34' and further north. It is distinguished by when the sun never rises past 6 degrees or more below the horizon. In Svalbard, the polar night lasts from 14 November to 29 January and is classified as a 'civil polar night,' which means that even though darkness is complete, one can expect some twilight at the horizon in the middle of the day. Nevertheless, the polar night is often experienced as consistently dark both day and night, due to Svalbard's mountainous terrain obscuring the horizon in the distance.

With six years of prior residency in Svalbard and an active guiding profession year-round, our expedition guide, Olivier Kopp Wålberg, possesses a unique insight into life in this place where the sun doesn't rise for several months. We took the opportunity to ask him some questions about how this extreme winter transforms Svalbard and how it affects the people who live there.

How would you describe the polar night?

– For many people, the polar night is a time when Longyearbyen quiets down and enters a kind of 'hibernation.' The local community finds peace, and there is also a lot of social interaction in the town, such as the jazz festival. The polar night consists of an endless starry sky when the weather is clear, and we are fortunate to be able to see the Northern Lights twice a day. Northern Lights during the day and Northern Lights in the evening. It's a fantastic time.

What is it like to live in Svalbard during the months when the sun never rises?

– Everything has its advantages and disadvantages. The advantage is that we have more time to be together, socialize, go out to one of the many restaurants in town, and see the Northern Lights very often. It's a good time for people in Longyearbyen to relax after a long peak season. The disadvantages are that it's dark all the time. Our bodies need daylight to recharge our energy reserves, so we are often tired, sleep more, and have a little less energy. But with good routines like food, exercise, and social interaction, it goes very well. The first year in Svalbard is often the toughest. Then you get more used to it.

Are there any activities in Svalbard during these months?

– During the polar night, we have several activities in Longyearbyen, such as camp nights with good food and lectures, Northern Lights hunts, museums, city walks, mountain hikes, and mine visits. As soon as there's enough snow, snowmobile tours, dog sledding, and snowmobiling near Longyearbyen also start. It's definitely a good time to visit Svalbard because there are fewer tourists and more space to relax and enjoy the darkness.

How are you affected by the extreme differences, from the midnight sun to the polar night?

– We naturally notice a difference in energy levels. The average sleep time during the polar night is 10.5 hours, and during the midnight sun, it's 4 hours. Many people feel more tired and exhausted and need to stay active. Many choose to vacation abroad in warmer climates when the seasons are over to catch up on some sun or night time. The downside of the midnight sun is that we are very rarely tired and often suffer from sleep deprivation, which is not good either.

In your opinion, can you "store energy" from the light season to cope with the dark season?

You can definitely store a lot of energy during the summer. But when the midnight sun is over, many of us have slept so little and worked so much that we can't wait for the dark season to arrive and get some sleep again without having to tape the windows with aluminum foil or very dark curtains.

Sources: Visit Svalbard and SMHI

©Erik Edvardsson

Please note: We always follow strict wildlife guidelines to ensure that we do not cause any disturbance.

The first stop on the Falkland Islands, West Point Island, was reached early in the morning. We received a warm welcome on our initial landing from the delightful couple responsible for looking after the island on behalf of its owners. To our great delight, we were served a sumptuous English afternoon tea with scones and seven types of cakes at their farm. All the treats were homemade, following recipes from a well-used copy of the Swedish cookery book "Seven Kinds of Cakes," which the half-Swedish hostess possessed. Some biscuits and hot tea really warmed up the little kitchen in this remote, windswept place!

An unmarked grave covered in spring flowers in the backyard of the farmhouse led the coffee hour conversation to the life story of Swedish-American man Lars-Eric Lindblad. Born in Sweden, he emigrated to America as a young man and later became a successful entrepreneur in the travel industry after launching the concept of expedition cruising - travelling to remote places, aimed at the general public, with exciting landings, hikes and Zodiac cruises. This was something completely new in the 1960s and attracted a lot of interest!

The very first landing on the first expedition cruise in 1968 took place right here on West Point Island with the ship Navarino. When Lindblad passed away in 1994 after a long and successful career, his last wish was to be laid to rest in an unmarked grave covered with the Felton's calandrinia, in this lonely spot in the South Atlantic where it all began.

But there was much more than coffee and stories to focus on this day! During a walk of a few kilometres, we were accompanied by a couple of curiously close specimens of the rare striated caracara which is common on this particular island. We walked over green hills, dotted with bright yellow flowering, coconut-scented common gorse, and finally reached a bird colony on the other side of the island.

There, on the rocky slope, nesting spaces were shared fraternally between numerous rockhopper penguins and black-browed albatrosses. Some neighbors got along well, while others constantly bickered over the space. An albatross glided majestically and seemingly effortlessly down to the cliff. It tenderly greeted its chosen partner by rubbing their beaks together for a long while.

The poor little rockhopper penguins had to work even harder, using their small, hopping steps to climb up and down the high, steep cliff, inch by inch, to reach the water for feeding. However, they also seemed, judging by the cheerful, squeaky sounds, to be happy to see their partners hopping along. "They sound like squeaky wagon wheels!" someone remarked.

We returned to Ocean Nova to digest our impressions and enjoy a good lunch as we headed north-east to our next destination, Saunders Island. There, we faced a challenging afternoon landing in 20 m/s winds and waves crashing against the shore. Until the last moment, it was uncertain whether we would manage to disembark; we received reports that another ship had canceled its landing earlier in the day due to the weather conditions. Some of our guides, dressed in dry suits, went ahead to assess the conditions closer to the beach. The advance team successfully made it ashore and gave the green light for the rest of us.

It got a bit wet, but that was quickly forgotten as we stepped ashore on the long white sandy beach. Already at the water's edge, we were greeted by gentoo penguins going both up and down into the water. Further up the beach, their partners were resting on their small stone nests, patiently awaiting the changing of the guard.

Already after a few hundred metres we reached the other side of the narrow isthmus and were greeted by the sight of an even larger and whiter sandy beach than the one we had landed on. Here even more gentoo penguins waddled around, but in a separate cluster stood a smaller colony of king penguins, both adults and chicks. At this point, the chicks were almost as large as the adults, yet they remained entirely dependent on their parents for survival. This is because, during their second summer of life, they still wore their fluffy brown juvenile plumage, which, unlike the adults', is not waterproof.

"It looks like a dry-cleaned bear!" someone said of the fuzzy brown apparitions, and we laughed at the apt comparison.

At the far end of the beach, a steep cliff rose, plunging down into the sea. High up there, a colony of rockhopper penguins, true to their species name, had chosen to settle.

Further down the grassy slope the ground was perforated with holes, but no penguins were to be seen. It wasn't until we were just about to head back to the Zodiacs that a shy Magellanic penguin suddenly peeked out of its burrow, much to everyone's delight. Then another one, and yet another!

A bit salt-sprayed and wind-ruffled, but very pleased to have had the honor of encountering four different penguin species on the very first day, we returned to our floating home for the next few weeks.

Mattias Klum loves diversity and being touched, both by the grandeur in the small and the small in the grand. Whether it's the small wonders of spring when the bluebells appear or the majestic presence of mountain gorillas in the lush forests of Rwanda. With the whole world as his workplace, he has witnessed countless wonders, but for him, Svalbard is one of the most unique destinations on our planet.

"The landscape is incredibly beautiful: infinitely vast, impregnable, and actually quite inhospitable. I love the feeling of being small and experience a deep sense of humility and love for this unrivaled nature. It's a hard-to-beat place."

Mattias participated in one of the season's last expeditions, which departed in early September. He describes the trip as very varied. The weather played a crucial role, creating favorable conditions for both landings and observations from the deck.

"We really got to experience the different faces of Svalbard. It could go from being really sunny and warm on deck to an almost impenetrable fog. We were lucky enough to avoid persistent grey weather and strong winds, and I think everyone got a sense of how incredibly beautiful and dynamic Svalbard is."

The amazing wildlife encounters were another highlight that both Mattias and his fellow travellers really appreciated. Although many birds had already migrated south, the bird mountains were still filled with stragglers. Furthermore, they were able to observe several polar bears and walruses in different situations, while witnessing polar foxes and Svalbard reindeers wandering across the vast landscapes.

“Seeing blue whales from the ship was also exceptional. It is truly a unique world in so many ways."

Photo and film assignments have previously brought Mattias to Svalbard, both during the darkest months of polar night and in the summer when the sun never sets. Like in all places with distinct seasonal changes, nature goes through different stages, creating diverse experiences depending on when you choose to travel.

"I think all seasons are equally amazing. For me as a photographer, the diversity is very exciting; it gives me the opportunity to create a complete picture of the place. It's magical when the light returns in spring and lots of species have their offspring. It's a dramatic time. Then comes summer and the midnight sun. We are used to bright nights in the north, but in Svalbard it is even more extreme."

This time, Mattias participated as an inspirer and lecturer. He shared his expertise in sustainability and nature, while also being available for questions about photography. On board there was a diverse group of guests, ranging from experienced photographers with advanced equipment to beginners who wanted to learn how to capture better images with their mobile cameras.

“I thought it was enjoyable. Everyone on board had different expectations and aspirations. Often, we place a lot of focus on the technical aspects of photography, but I believe that the most important aspect is capturing emotion – knowing what you want to convey and how to do justice to what you feel and see. It's always rewarding when you succeed in bringing out different personalities, regardless of their level of experience.”

Mattias, who in his professional role often travels alone or in a small team, experienced the social interaction and community on board as something very nice.

"After sharing a series of amazing experiences and spending several days together on the ship, one evening culminated in almost a manifestation of joy. Everyone participated and seemed super happy. They say that shared joy is double joy, and there's something very true about that. "

To share a moment with one or several other people, whether it's something you've experienced before or not, is something that Mattias finds very touching in many ways. His role on board also involved, as he puts it, 'extrapolating the experience' by sharing memories and other references to help the recipient understand the uniqueness of a particular animal encounter or a special nature experience.

“If you stand there together and see dolphins jumping in backlight far on the horizon, you can turn to each other and say, 'Wow, did you see that? Wasn't it beautiful?' Then I might tell an anecdote about dolphins, and we've all shared those seconds of fascination.”

The sound of flying red-throated loons was something else that stirred strong personal emotions in Mattias.

"It was one of the first birds I became obsessed with as a young photographer, and one of the first pictures I ever sold was of a flying red-throated loon. Hearing them really went straight to the heart, and I felt a strong need to share that experience with anyone who was around."

A place that many dream of visiting is the mythical Kvitøya. During this expedition, the weather conditions were favorable enough to reach all the way. Mattias describes how he and several others on board became very enthusiastic as they approached the shore with the Zodiacs. There, they were met by a female polar bear ambling along and settling at a perfect distance from the monument that everyone had been looking forward to seeing.

"Normally, everyone reacts with great joy when they see a polar bear, but here it instead sparked some dissatisfaction. The situation became almost comical."

Even though it became somewhat of an anticlimax not being able to go ashore, Mattias still found it to be a beautiful experience to come so close to this small island and get a sense of how Andrée and the other expedition members experienced their fateful journey.

"They were very exposed. I think everyone got a sense of how humble and small one feels in this amazing, barren, and in many ways contradictory nature."

One thing Mattias often feels when working in extreme environments, including Svalbard, is that these places are not really meant for humans.

"We are a versatile species, but in reality, we are not particularly good at anything. We are naked, weak in general, can't fly, run fast, or swim very well..."

Mattias believes that being on this kind of trip, where you are not constantly fed with experiences, can be a valuable thing. You are here on nature's terms and learn to see things in a different way. You appreciate the silence, the stillness and the vast landscapes.

"Suddenly you might see a blue whale, a majestic Northern Fulmar gliding by, or some walruses wallowing on a beach. But hours can pass between such moments. I think it's very healthy in many ways."

Something that many people appreciate about our expeditions in Svalbard is the ability to be completely present in the moment, without connectivity or contact with the outside world. For Mattias, who is used to spending long periods in the field with only a satellite phone for emergency communication, the experience was not unique, but still very valuable.

"I think it's very healthy. It's good that you can focus on the experience and on socializing with other people. Being free from constant connectivity is soul-saving in many ways."

For Mattias, travelling is something that extends far beyond the joy of seeing beautiful icebergs or majestic polar bears.

"I don't engage in projects unless I feel they are meaningful. Considering the pressure we put on our planet, the Arctic is one of the life-sustaining systems that the Earth needs to function. By being there, perhaps we can all be ambassadors for an environment that we must be infinitely protective of.”

When asked if he, like so many others, has caught the so-called polar bug — an eternal longing to return — he jokingly replies that he is full of bugs: sea bugs, rainforest bugs, polar bugs... But then he quickly turns serious.

"I love diversity and being touched. Our world is extraordinary, but we live in a time when we have to make wise choices. We cannot afford to exploit, destroy, fish out or use sensitive sites for oil extraction. It is very important for me to choose organizers who care for nature, respect culture and actively work with sustainability - who take responsibility. Therefore, I only collaborate with companies that share these values."

About Mattias Klum

Mattias Klum is a professional photographer, filmmaker and artist with over three decades in the industry. He is internationally recognised for describing, visualising and portraying animals, plants, culture and natural environments in a variety of media. His work has been published in many international magazines, such as National Geographic, BBC Wildlife and The New York Times.

For his significant work, he has received several prestigious awards. He is also an active ambassador for environmental organisations and holds an honorary doctorate in natural sciences at Stockholm University.

Please note: We always follow strict wildlife guidelines to ensure that we do not cause any disturbance.

Men's clothing had to be strong and warm enough to withstand and protect the man from the freezing air temperatures during long hunting journeys on the sea ice. Additionally, it needed to prevent the man from becoming soaked to the skin while hunting or travelling by sea kayak.

To ensure this, the skins had to be carefully selected and perfectly sewn. Being a skilled seamstress earned Inuit women great respect. As the saying goes, 'A man is what his wife makes him,' and if you, as an Inuit woman, could sew high-quality garments such as trousers, anoraks, and kamiks, you were often ensured a good existence. Today, such clothing is still frequently used in the far north of Greenland during winter and is also showcased in many museums.

In most of Greenland nowadays, people wear clothing similar to that in other Arctic regions for their day-to-day activities. It's common to see brands like Fjällräven and Canada Goose as regular outerwear and workwear. The traditional dress can now more be seen as the national costume.

With European influence and trade appearing in Greenland in the 17th and 18th centaury, came new materials such as glass beads and fabrics. These were traded into the communities and quickly became incorporated into traditional clothing as decorations, especially for festive attire, replacing the beads that were previously carved out of bone.

Today, three variations of the national dress are evident, based on geographic area:

Kalaallisut – The West Greenlandic National Dress: This is the most colourful variation, featuring elaborate glass bead collars, sealskin short pants, and beautifully decorated white kamiks.

Arnatuut – The Northwest (Thule Area) National Dress: This variation includes extra-long sealskin kamiks, arctic fox pants, and a black seal skin collar.

Tunumiutuut – The East Greenland National Dress: This dress has two variations – one made solely of sealskin and the other featuring a white anorak adorned with glass beads, dark pants, and high kamik boots richly adorned with floral embroidery or lace.

The male national costume is also elegant, though not as colourful. It consists of black or dark blue trousers and an anorak sewn from strong, high quality canvas. The anorak features a hood, a sewn-on breast pocket, and two additional pockets on the side of the jacket. The kamiks for men are shorter than those for women, with a wide decorative cuff at the top.

Today, the Greenlandic national costume is worn on special festive occasions such as Christmas, Easter,  National Day, as well as personal occasions such as confirmation and weddings.

Wearing the national dress is also a way of paying tribute to skilled, national craftsmanship based on fine traditions. Recognizing the declining number of individuals possessing the necessary skills to create Greenlandic national dress, schools and dressmaker’s workshops have been established in recent decades to revitalize this traditional craft. Kalaallisuuliornermik ilinniarfik has been established in Sisimiut, and Kittat in Nuuk.