After a year of training to become an Arctic guide, it was finally time for Alexander Denk to step into the Arctic wilderness he had long dreamed of exploring. In this blog post, he reflects on his first encounter with Svalbard's stunning landscapes and wildlife while working as an apprentice guide aboard one of this year's expeditions on M/S Quest, an experience that left him speechless.
I wanted to see this nature with my own eyes. More than that, I wanted to guide people in this environment.
Some years ago, a friend told me about an island far north of Norway: Svalbard.
At that time, I had already been living in northern Norway for several years and was working as a dogsledding guide. When he talked about his journey, he didn’t describe it like you’d describe a vacation on a beach in Italy. Instead, he spoke as if a dream had come true to him. His eyes were smiling when he described the blue ice of the calving glaciers, the sound of thousands of birds nesting on steep cliffs, and the graceful movement of polar bears searching for food on the pack ice. It sounded like a different world – perfect fuel for my dreaming mind.
During the following weeks, I devoured every book about Svalbard that I could get my hands on. A Woman in the Arctic by Christiane Ritter turned out to be my favorite. My head was filled with unseen pictures, and eventually I decided to apply for a one-year program in Longyearbyen, Svalbard’s “capital”, to become an Arctic nature guide. I wanted to see this nature with my own eyes. More than that, I wanted to guide people in this environment.
A year later I was accepted.
When my plane landed in Longyearbyen in August 2022 I was ready to absorb as much information as possible. Within ten months, I learned a great deal about this fascinating Arctic environment. We studied the wildlife, glaciers, history, skiing, and glacier travel and had a lot of fun along the way.
There was only one problem: I never really left Isfjorden, the main fjord next to Longyearbyen. All the places I had read about – the glaciers, trapper cabins, bird cliffs, and remote fjords – remained just names and pictures in my head. I knew the stories, but I had never experienced them myself. I had to do something about that.
I can explain to guests why glacier ice appears blue, I learned the theory years ago. But being among these enormous ice formations was an entirely different experience.
Fast forward to May this year.
As an apprentice guide, I was accepted by PolarQuest to join one of their nine-day expedition cruises on Svalbard. Finally, the pictures in my head should turn into real ones.
Already on the second day, I found myself sitting in a Zodiac, surrounded by huge blue icebergs. A blue unlike anything I had ever seen before. Of course, I can explain to guests why glacier ice appears blue, I learned the theory years ago. But being among these enormous ice formations was an entirely different experience. It was fantastic. The sea was calm, the ice drifted slowly around us, and every now and then we could hear the sharp crack of ice shifting somewhere in the distance. I couldn’t stop smiling as we cruised between the icebergs. And did I already mention how blue the ice was?
We drove closer into the ice blocks to hear the popping of the small air bobbles within the ice.
A moment later, a bearded seal appeared on a drifting ice floe. We took out our binoculars and spent some time observing it. The seal, however, could not have cared less about our presence.
Later that day, we passed Texas Bar in Liefdefjorden. The weather was too rough for a landing, but simply seeing Hilmar Nøis’ cabin from 1927 was special. The stories I had read about, the adventures I had imagined, suddenly felt tangible. The same evening, we ate dinner in front of the majestic glacier front of Lilliehöökbreen while the midnight sun illuminated deep cracks in the ice.
At times, I felt like pinching myself. How must the first sailors who arrived here have felt? The landscape must have looked quite different back then, yet equally overwhelming.
Looking back, I realize that my first visit to Svalbard happened long before I arrived here. It started with stories, books, and dreams.
One of the moments I remember most came a few days later in the pack ice north of Nordaustlandet: we spotted a female polar bear and watched her for nearly an hour as she moved steadily across the frozen landscape. There was no dramatic hunt, no action movie scene, just a bear perfectly adapted to her environment, moving through a world of ice. It was calming and very uneventful in a way.
The following days brought even more places I had dreamed about for years. A walrus colony on Moffen enjoyed the low Arctic sun while hundreds of walrus bones scattered across the island told stories from darker times.
At Alkefjellet, we boarded the Zodiacs once again and cruised beneath the towering basalt cliffs while thousands of Brünnich’s guillemots circled above us. I knew plenty of facts about these birds from my studies, but nobody had prepared me for the smell. Many times during this first expedition,
I found myself speechless. Beauty was everywhere: on the sea, on the land, and in the air. Looking back, I realize that my first visit to Svalbard happened long before I arrived here. It started with stories, books, and dreams. This expedition was a good start to understand this environment in a proper way.
A kind of nature that cannot truly be experienced through books, documentaries, or photographs. You have to stand in it yourself.
Svalbard is a place for dreamers.
For centuries, people have come here searching for something raw and untamed. A kind of nature that cannot truly be experienced through books, documentaries, or photographs. You have to stand in it yourself. I am grateful that I finally had the chance to do exactly that.
At the same time, we must remember that we are only visitors in this fragile ecosystem. The Arctic does not need humans, but it is increasingly affected by our actions. These journeys offer us the opportunity to learn something important: the Arctic is both magnificent and vulnerable. If we want future generations to experience the same wonders, we must protect it.
I hope that in the years to come, as a guide, I can share my love for the Arctic with more guests and help create a deeper understanding of this unique and delicate environment.
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© Alexander Denk -
© Mark Krasberg -
© Erik Edvardsson
Please note: Depending on the lens used for a photo or video shot an animal may appear to be closer than it is. We always follow strict wildlife guidelines to ensure that we do not cause any disturbance.
