10 days of WILDLIFE PHOTOGRAPHY on SVALBARD

Hello everyone and welcome to Svalbard. For most of my life there's been no other place in the world I would rather visit than the archipelago of Svalbard and now I'm finally here. Its impressive rugged landscape houses an astounding selection of arctic specialists, some of which are found nowhere else. The extreme resilience required to survive here is truly admirable and makes photographing the fauna of Svalbard all the more rewarding. It's currently midnight and I'm stood on a ship at 80 degrees north, only 1100 kilometers from the north pole. But to explain how I ended up here we need to rewind a little bit. Back in 2022 I captured this image of a northern pygmy owl in the old growth forest. This image went on to win the Norwegian championships in nature photography where the first prize was a trip to Svalbard and a four-day cruise with Hurtigruten Svalbard. So two and a half years later I was on my way to my dream destination in the company of another skilled bird photographer Bjørn-Erik Helang. We planned our trip for the end of May of 2024 to coincide with the arrival of the first migratory birds in the hopes of catching the transition to spring in the high arctic. But as the plane was landing spring seemed like a strangely distant concept. Due to a raging blizzard, minimal visibility and extreme gusts of wind the pilots took several attempts to land the plane safely. Once on the ground I was buzzing with excitement to get out to photograph. After checking in at the hotel in Longyearbyen it was already past midnight. But as the sun doesn't set here between April and August the time of day wouldn't prevent me from grabbing my camera and heading out to explore. My first encounters with the local wildlife were with the charismatic Svalbard reindeer. They are substantially smaller than their mainland relatives and have shorter legs, stumped faces and a compact body. All adaptations to better cope with the frigid temperatures they must endure to survive here. There cannot possibly be many towns in the world where you have completely unafraid wild reindeer as your closest neighbours. Here are my first photos of these fascinating locals. Leaving the reindeer to rest I headed on in search of geese. There are three species of geese that breed on Svalbard. Brent, Barnacle and Pink-footed geese. Every spring the latter two species migrate over my home in Oslo in their tens of thousands. And ever since I was a kid I've enjoyed their impressive formations as they embark on their annual commute to the high arctic. Although I've had the chance to photograph them close to home I've always wanted to see Svalbard's geese in their true element. And for that reason I was very happy that the arctic showed its savage side and I could photograph these resilient creatures enduring a snowstorm beginning with a pair of pink-footed geese. The wind and snow eventually settled revealing a monochrome land of intricate patterns and fine textures. The perfect setting for portraits of the barnacle goose. I knew these conditions would be fleeting so I decided to sacrifice sleep to make the most of the dazzling scenery and capture some minimalistic photos of Svalbard's avian inhabitants in their natural habitat. There was one more goose that I really wanted to see and photograph. Birdwatching as a little kid I remember hearing birders talk about the rare sight of white individuals mixed in with the enormous flocks of overflying geese. They told me that sometimes the white individuals were barnacle geese with leucism a genetic mutation giving them almost all white feathers. I wrote it off as highly unlikely to see one of these rare specimens during my 10 days on Svalbard but after four hours of walking around the town I spotted a white creature among the barnacle geese. I could not believe my luck as I lay eyes upon this bird that I've thought about since I was a kid and even getting to photograph it in fresh snow. Already a few hours into my trip I felt remarkably privileged and truly grateful for the chance to visit this marvelous place. The following days would bring many more fantastic photo opportunities in and around the town of Longyearbyen. Our second day started off with a wonderful encounter with the only permanent resident bird on Svalbard's mainland the Svalbard Rocktarmagen. We found this beautiful pair just outside the town and they seemed to be completely unaffected by our presence. It was interesting to see the profound difference in the coloration of the Tarmagen's genders. While the male still had his white winter plumage the female's molting was well underway. Soon she would be laying on eggs so blending in with the rocky surroundings would be absolutely necessary. Next we headed down to the shoreline where hundreds of brent geese had gathered. Fixated on the geese I didn't pay much attention to my surroundings but when a white flash entered my peripheral vision only a matter of meters away I turned my head to see a set of golden eyes staring right at me. After a quick glance the polar fox figured I wasn't anything of interest and trotted away but before she did so I managed to capture one close portrait of her glowing eyes. A few hundred meters down the coast we had yet another surprise in store for us. Bobbing on the water of the sheltered bay were two red birds. We carefully sneaked down to the water's edge where we laid down and waited for them to approach. For several years one of the species I've wanted the most to see and photograph is the red phalarope. It's quite surreal to be less than a meter from the species I wanted for so long. What a stunning bird. Like very few other birds the red phalaropes have reversed sex roles meaning that it's the female who has the most brightly colored plumage and the male takes care of brooding eggs and chicks. I therefore focused mostly on photographing the female and capturing her stunning warm red plumage contrasting beautifully to the blue water. When photographing a new species it's often easy to get caught up in getting the close-up shots and the standard portraits but once you've got the standard images it's time to think a bit more creatively. One way of doing so is by turning around and shooting back lips instead of front lips. Hanging off the banks of snow by the water's edge were dripping icicles sparkling as the golden sun shone through them. Incorporating the icicles into my background I try to do justice to this marvelous shimmering midnight scene. Seeking the company of the red phalaropes was also a red-necked phalarope which I photographed backlit with the scenic fjord landscape behind. The following day we boarded the ship in which we would stay for the next four days. MS Norstein would take us around the west coast and up to 80 degrees north stopping in scenic fjords and at historic sites. I had hopes of seeing a polar bear even just as a distant glimpse but the closest we got were old tracks in the ice. The cruise I'd won a trip with was unfortunately not targeted towards photographers but I was well aware of this so I had lowered my expectations and decided to just enjoy the trip and consider any photo opportunities as a bonus. I spent a lot of my time on deck taking in the fabulous scenery and photographing the birds passing by. Every now and again a flock of little orcs or brinex gillimoths would pass by over the water and I experimented with slower shutter speeds to convey their movement. It was also nice to see the first arctic turns of the season that had just returned from the opposite side of the earth. Northern fulmars, close relatives of the albatross were following the ship surfing effortlessly on the winds. Although I consider myself a wildlife photographer it would be foolish not to capture some landscape photos as we cruised through some of the most dramatic scenery the planet earth has to offer. Two times a day we would board zodiacs and were taken to land. On these landings I always made sure to bring my camera in case an arctic fox scurried by or some curious reindeer showed up. A glaucus gull or a flock of kittiwakes resting on the ice could also result in some lovely minimalistic photos. In the stunning scenery of the Magdalena Fjord I was witness to a brutal interaction between a kittiwake and an arctic skua. Also known as the parasitic jaeger the skua makes its living off other sea birds. In a merciless chase the skua forces its victim to regurgitate the food it's consumed which I captured in this series of action shots. In Nyarlason the northernmost settlement in the world we made a stop for a few hours. The small town is surrounded by impressive peaks and mighty glaciers and deep blue icebergs floating in the fjord. I spent my time by the water's edge where commoniders and black gillimoths were diving for food. Even a curious seal swam by and I could photograph them all with a background of the saturated blue ice from the local glaciers. After four enjoyable days on the ship we were back to exploring the wildlife around Longyearbyen. While we had been away a huddle of walrus had hauled themselves up onto the beach right outside the town apparently for the first time in years. The spectacle attracted both locals and tourists us included. While the sight of these enormous animals was fantastic the smell was a different story. Their strong odour was so unbearable that I was only able to stand downwind of them for short periods at a time and held my breath as much as possible. But this slight inconvenience was absolutely worth it for such up-close views of these truly bizarre animals. Walrus can sleep an astounding 19 hours meaning that most of the time they weren't doing much. Waiting for the walrus to wake up I lay down by the water's edge to photograph anything that came by. By waiting for the wildlife to reveal itself I got close encounters with commoniders surfing the waves, a sandaling exploring the beach and a snow bunting flying around. After four attempts and a total of 10 hours with a walrus we spotted one individual leaving the huddle and we could finally capture photos of a walrus in the water. So since our arrival to Longyearbyen we'd been hearing eerie laughter from the surrounding rocky hillsides. We knew this could only mean one thing the return of the little orcs. The most numerous species on Svalbard and quite possibly the most numerous seabird in the world happens to be this cute little creature. Returning from fishing out at sea the little orcs fly in flocks against the impressive backdrop of the rugged peaks and scenic fjords before coming into land in the steep rocky slopes in which they breed. On the ground there were still a few patches of snow that provided an ideal blank canvas for some minimalistic portraits. The little orcs would sometimes simultaneously all take off and seemed rather uneasy when perched on the ground and for good reason. For this very slope is also the home of a pair of polar foxes that regularly patrol the area in search of an easy meal. Although a nuisance to the birds for us photographers the foxes were a pure delight. The female didn't pay us much attention and swiftly disappeared up the mountain. The male however was incredibly curious and seemingly playful. His lack of fear and inquisitive nature led him right to us and we were granted a fantastic glimpse into his personality. In the neighboring valley most of the snow and ice-covered lakes had melted revealing the breeding grounds to many of the native bird species on Svalbard. The ponds now contained long-tailed ducks, eiders and red-throated divers and from the surrounding slopes the rock ptarmigan and pink-footed geese were calling. We had our very last photo shoot of the trip on the marshy area in the valley where the red phalaropes had now settled down at their breeding site. We knew a mating could be close so we got into position and prepared ourselves for action and sure enough a duller looking male mounted his bright female presenting us an unforgettable photo opportunity to end our stay on Svalbard.