USA TODAY International Edition
ADVENTURE IN THE LAND OF ICE AND POLAR BEARS
Specially designed ships take travelers to the top of the world
Standing at the bow of one of expedition cruising’s hardiest ships as it crunches northward through a carpet of ice, Cecilia Donnelly is almost giggly with excitement. And who can blame her?
The steel- reinforced Fram has just arrived at the edge of the Arctic ice cap, and for the moment, at least, the 67- year- old retiree from Riverside, Calif., can lay claim to being one of the northernmost travelers in the world.
“This is fantastic!” Donnelly gushes as the 318- passenger Fram smashes into a car- length ice chunk, sending a shudder through the vessel. “In all my dreams, I never thought I would make it to the edge of the North Pole.”
Donnelly has joined a growing number of adventurous travelers signing up for expedition cruises to the realm of ice and polar bears at the top of the planet, prompting expedition cruise operators to offer an ever- larger array of Arctic itineraries.
In this case, the Fram is sailing a seven- night circumnavigation of Spitsbergen, a mountainand glacier- covered island just a few hundred miles from the North Pole.
The biggest of a cluster of rugged islands known as Svalbard, Spitsbergen is 600 miles north of the northernmost tip of Norway, which administers the archipelago, and is known for such iconic Arctic wildlife as polar bears and walruses. Visited by whalers as early as the 1600s, it’s also rich with human history. Several of the great polar expeditions left from its shores.
Offered several times each summer by Arctic tourism pioneer Hurtigruten, the circumnavigation kicks off with a stop in Barentsburg, a semi- abandoned mining town operated by Russia under the terms of a century- old treaty. Home to just a few hundred Russians, it’s a surreal remnant of the Soviet era complete with blockish ( now mostly empty) Soviet- style buildings and a statue of a triumphant Lenin.
It’s also one of the last places Fram passengers will have contact with other humans. The next morning brings a visit to a final outpost of civilization: The small mining camp- turned- polar research station Ny- Ålesund. It was from here that legendary explorer Roald Amundsen flew to the North Pole by airship in 1926, and passengers gawk at such artifacts as the tower that held the airship and the telegraph hut that broadcast news of the flight to the world.
“It’s hard to imagine how life was here years ago without television and Internet,” marvels Leon Lasa, 54, of San Sebastian, Spain, walking across what is still a remote and desolate encampment. “These people were made of a different material.”
Just outside Ny- Ålesund, the Fram comes across a polar bear for the first time, and for the next few days the ship works its way clockwise around Spitsbergen looking for more of the elusive mammals and other wildlife. Like other expedition vessels, the Fram carries motorized rubber rafts for exploring, and there are daily landings led by its expedition guides.
The third day of the voyage is typical. The Fram drops anchor at Alkefjellet, where 300- foot- high cliffs harbor a massive breeding colony of Brünnich’s guillemots, and passengers head out in the boats for a closer look. Bundled up in ship- provided polar suits, they gasp at thousands of the birds clinging to the guano- paint- ed rock face, while thousands more swoop and swarm around them.
Heading farther south as passengers have lunch, the Fram arrives off Torellneset, a glacierframed spit of sand on the island of Nordaustlandet, and is quickly met by a seemingly curious herd of walruses. Bobbing their tusked heads above the water, the 5,000pound marine mammals eye the Fram before dancing around the vessel to the delight of passengers. An hour later, the guides — armed with rifles for protection from polar bears — lead passengers on a landing to see more of the animals up close on the beach.
Like all Arctic trips, it’s a flexible itinerary driven by the whims of the quickly changing Arctic weather and wildlife. On one morning, a landing to see a colony of kittiwakes is postponed until thick fog lifts. Later the same day the schedule is thrown into flux again as the ship — now sailing under crisp blue skies — stops for a pod of fin whales.
Named after the ship Amundsen took to the South Pole in 1910, the 8- year- old Fram was built specifically for exploring the polar regions. Stout and sturdy, it boasts a strengthened hull and a sharpened bow that safely slices through most kinds of ice, and it has an expansive mud room where passengers change into thermal suits and rubber boots for landings.
While many of the Fram’s 128 cabins are relatively Spartan, its public areas include extensive outdoor observation decks for wildlife and glacier viewing as well as a stylish indoor observation lounge, dining room, lecture halls and a fitness center.
This far north in the Arctic, the sun stays up for nearly the entire summer, and one day even brings a 2 a. m. stop for a passing blue whale.
Through it all, the Fram’s expedition guides weave in a diverse array of excursions — even a “polar plunge.”
“It was cold. Very, very cold,” gasps Morten Gyllensten, 57, of Oslo moments after dodging floating ice during a dash into the 40- degree water at glacier- lined Magdalena Fjord. “But I’m happy I did it.”