Florian looks trhough a curtain of frozen needles inside the glacier cave, Svalbard.

With our guide Christopher we are getting the first impressions of the Svalbard landscape. With four teams of eager and highly energetic sled dogs we are heading out. The mountainous landscape is under a soft blanket of snow. The silence is interrupted only by the barking and yelping of the dog teams. We are planning to travel up to a glacier and enter through a narrow cave deep into the center of the frozen body of ice.

Sled dogs doing what they love the most, pulling!

The dogs had had a good rest before our trip and so the are ready to go. It is all that is on their mind. Everything needs to be tightly tied down on the sleds and before we give the go, we need to tie it down with a “ice hook” so that the dogs don`t take off with the sled by themselves. Once the sled is off the hook, the dogs take off like a bullet. The only way to slow the sled down is to push down on an iron plow-like break that digs itself into the snow.

Ice formations inside a glacier cave, Svalbar

Once the sled is on the go all the dogs are completely focused on pulling. Every individual wants to do its part and not lack behind. I guess that is what they are bread for. Pulling is what is on their mind. We make it up to the cave. I have little idea of what to expect. As my eyes start to adapt to the darkness I see a wonderful sculptured cave landscape. In some areas water must have melted late in the season and has created incredible ice sculptures. With my flashlight I am painting over the formations, leaving the curtain of my camera open for over one minute. The image that appears on the back of the viewfinder reminds me of a “Cathedral of Ice”.

As the water trickles inside, it glides over the icy surface and creates frozen needles hanging from the sealing of the cave. Svalbard

I had a small tripod with which it was easy to enter some of the narrow cavities. I used a cable release with a lock mechanism so I could keep have exposure times of 1 to 2 minutes. Another key was the more neutral colored LED light of my headlamp. It allowed for a more curate rendering of the colors.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Anyway, this is the long story behind the reason why I have a few minutes of internet in the middle of nowhere – at Point Lonely. And it is the same story of just having a few moments. Over night the fog rolled in. Now I have to be on “standby” to be ready to jump into the plane any moment the fog will give us the chance to take off. If we cannot, I might have the chance to write for the coming hours (or days) about my experiences.

What I want to share with you in short: I have seen a Arctic landscape come alive with hundreds of thousands of caribou, watched wolves chase across the tundra, thousands of seals on the ice-sheet and a lonely polar bear wonder the pack ice. As we were buzzing along with the plane it sometimes was hard to absorb and process all the impressions right that very second. I am so glad to have the images to come back to, where a single moment is frozen in time. It will give me a chance to understand what ALL I have seen. My expedition is coming to an end in a few days and after a quick edit, I will share with you some of the incredible moments I have witnessed. For now I better step outside and see what the fog does ……..

Waiting Game - I am still stuck in the oil town of Prudhoe waiting for weather!

I often get asked about patience out in the field. In a way it needs to come with the job as a wildlife photographer, right? Am I specifically patient? Well, with certain things yeah, with other things I am not. I want to make them happen right away. Right now I am sitting in the oil-town of Prudhoe Bay. If you checked this blog a few days ago ….. yes I was already waiting then for the fog to clear and the wind to calm down. Guess what ….. the wind is still blowing and now it is not only foggy, but it is raining on top of that. Got patience? Well mine is challenged right now. I am wondering when and IF I will get a break here in the next days. I know the weather in the Brooks Range just 100 miles away is great, but I have the obligation to cover the coast. I need to stand by, to be able to react as soon as the weather changes and I can work with my pilot to cover Alaska`s Arctic Coast.

Well, this gives me time for internet stuff like my blog ……. Let me tell you about another patience story, when I was in a blind waiting for great image of a snowy owl up here in the arctic. I was hooked on the idea of this great image which kept me in a blind for several days - straight. Coming up…..

After flying hours below the layer of fog we see a silver lining at the horizon. We need to put the plane down on a gravel bar and set up camp for the night. My pilot Ken wants to look for a spot where we can get out of the wind. We are fighting a stiff breeze of 20 – 30 nots on the nose of the plane.

As we are flying further inland, the sun finally breaks through the layers of fog. In the far distance I see the brooks range. Dark clouds are hugging the mountains and create a dramatic backdrop for photographs. We follow a river drainage south as I see a group of caribou in the riverbed heading to climb a steep snowbank  to join their group up on the extended plains, where food is plentiful.

We swing around with the plane while I keep an eye on the group running up the step snowbank seemingly without effort. I am trying to caputre the images struggling to keep the horizon straight in the viewfinder while the pilot goes into  a steep bank and balances out the gusts of wind. After hours of flying through bad weather, there it is: A few seconds of action in wonderful golden arctic light.

Rainshowers over the Brooks Range - Nikon D3x, 24-70mm f2.8 lens

We started our aerial expeditions heading north beyond the Arctic Circle. Coming from Fairbanks I met my pilots in Coldfoot and we flew west towards the National Petroleum Reserve. It is a vast landscape of open valleys soon turning into treeless tundra. Only willow bushes remain. Beneath us I see the trails that caribous have carved into the ground over decades and centuries. On the riverbeds we also see the tracks of grizzly bears and wolves.

Midnight on the Nigu River in the National Petroleum Reserve - Nikon D3x, 24-70mm f2.8 lens

On the gravel bars of the Nigu we find a spot to set down the bushplanes. It is a wonderful arctic night on the Nigu River. The sun never sets, but colors the mountaintops at the edge of the valley.

After  traveling for months on a ’84 WV Westfalia with 24 feet of sitting space, one can understand why we are so excited about those extra 3 feet that makes our 27′ trimaran a cozy home.  Many people think having a boat is a luxury.  ” Trust Me” is far from that, with no restroom, no shower, a tiny living room without tables, and few feet for me to stand up and cook, her role is more important than providing comfort. She is a tool. With Trust Me we plan to reach wild remote areas within the Baja to Beaufort ecoregion, that need to be documented. With her ability of folding up and been trailerable, we can take her on the road and pretty much go anywhere.

With her great sailing features, her shallow draft, she is light and fast! If you have the sails in the right position and some breeze, she will go. It makes it all so much smoother, quite and environmentally friendly.  Although I must accept that it has taken Florian many hours of kind words and encouragement to convince me that sailing is easy to learn and is a good thing.

“Trust Me” has great extra features, including, solar panels, a water-maker (that we are still in the process of fixing), a solar shower (bought in REI) and my favorite: Arthur, the autopilot. When Arthur is on charge, we can enjoy the freedom of not having to hold the tiller all the time allowing us to search for wildlife.

We have now sailed the Loreto National Marine Park, and are planning to sail all the way down to La Paz to over an important area: The Loreto/ Cabo corridor. While on the Loreto waters, we discovered many incredible things including a young Humpback Whale that gave us an spectacular show… but that’s another story.

Been on a boat makes you a lot more aware of your surroundings. You are in the constant look out for hazards and even with Arthur in charge, you still have to continuously keep an eye on the water. Floating logs, rocks under the water, sudden changes in the depths, gusty winds, currents, tides, etc. can easily combine and leave you with a nightmare experience. 

Navigating the Sea of Cortez is more challenging because of the lack of good charts and the fact weather channels are nonexistent. You turn on the radio and soon you hear “Pablo! Pablo!  Andale, contesta!”, then a whole Mexican style conversation unfolds on the most important channel for marine communication: Channel 16. 

We’ve been really lucky with the weather, but you cannot avoid waking up in the middle of the night three or four times to check outside, to look at the GPs and check on the wind. Is the anchor ok or are we dragging? Is the wind picking up? What was that sound? 

It is a restless adventure, a constant challenge, … and we are loving it!

With a heart filled with excitement, we were dropped in this unique location where we planned to document the annual migration of the Western Arctic Caribou Herd.

I had listen to many incredible stories about this herd which includes 400,000 hooved members, restless wonderers of the Tundra.

Very few had actually been in the midst of one of them. Would we be able to find them? Will they allow us to contemplate their annual migration?

It was my first time in the Tundra and Florian had not been that many times in such a remote location. I obvisouly imagine all possible scenarios, but the truth is I had such a little idea what I was about to see.

After weeks of careful preparation and planning, we still  had no assurance if we were to witness anything. Some people said, “you might hit it right, but for the years we have traveled the area, we have never seen them, that is roughly 30 years”.

The place is so vast and the animals are so unpredictable, one can never tell the exact dates when to witness this magnificent spectacle. So we prayed for good luck but kept expectations low.

As we came closer to the drop off point, we could see in the distance many white points disperse over the landscape, so tiny and far away one could hardly see any shape. But as the plane got closer and closer to the land, more and more you could make out the white dots move rythmically over the tundra. Caribous!!! Thousands of them!! As far as your eye could see…

We arrived with incredible weather, way better than I had expected. Very windy for sure, but the sky blue as a jewel. We set up camp in the middle of a warm sunny day and sat down to wait, as usual. We are always waiting…

The day went by peacefully and as the sun got closer to the evening (according to our watch) we realize it was time to move around and explore the area. There weren’t many high points where to scan the area. And even though you could see everything from where ever you were, what ever mission you undertook, cost two times the effort. Not only because of the distance, but more because of the terrain.

One can say: Cool! No Mountains to hike! Everything is flat! But then, you feel sorry for choosing to carry a little more equipment thinking it might be so easy. Hiking over the tundra is a true challenge, going through wet zones, mushy or muskeg zones is more a nightmare than a pleasure excursion.

But at the end everything has a reward and we started to see the first Caribous appear over the ridge line, on the other side of the river.

We sat down and waited to see what that evening was to granted us with.