If I Were Going...: Bucket List Biggie

No suspense: Yes, we saw an Arctic Fox

Next on the G Expedition list: Bamsebu.

Bambesu

Unlike our other planned outings, this one was offering two slightly different scenarios. You could opt to go on a fairly “easy” hike from the initial landing point to the end of a curved spit (I can’t recall the distance, but it was maybe 1.5 miles) or you could go on the Zodiac, explore the beach and adjoining bog; then get back on the Zodiac and motor over to the end of the spit.

Bambesu spit

I opted for the hike; Scott opted to ride.

You had to sign up the night before for the guided hike, which was limited to 40 participants. When the list hit 80, they added more guides. There would be several hiking groups.

Map: G Adventures

Bambesu is located on the south side of Bellsund, where Recherchefjorden turns east and enters Van Keulenfjorden.

The area is also called Kvitfiskneset, which means “The Beluga headland,” recalling Beluga hunting in the area.

If you look at the map, you can see that we had moved north again, heading back in the direction of Longyearbyen, where our trip would end in two days.

The morning was misty and intermittently drizzly. I made sure I had the new waterproof camera cover Scott had bought me and off we went.

Low clouds did not dampen our visit

On the way in, we saw a few Beluga Whales spouting along the shore by a stream a little way down from the bay.

The blow of a Beluga Whale

When we landed, we encountered a pair of Barnacle Geese. It's funny: I was so excited when I first saw Barnacle Geese and I took scores of photos. Now, they were starting to get commonplace. But, not too. I still took pictures.

Morning walk

The hike was not quite as easy as advertised because we had to both traverse a bog and climb a steep hill. It wasn’t difficult for me, but some others had trouble, including a man walking right behind me who fell down three times in the bog.

Bogs are deceptive. They look like thick tundra plants, which tend to be uneven and spongy and can present their own walking challenges. But, bogs are far more difficult to walk on. They are wet and if you stand still for more than a few seconds, you start to sink. Suction builds up and it is extremely difficult to pull your feet out. So, you have to move rather briskly while still judging where you can step without sinking to your knees in cold water.

Of course, it means eyes down, where you see the interesting tundra plants. But, it also means no stopping to take photos and no looking around to see what’s in the vicinity.

Tundra flowers

Once we cleared the blog and started up the hill, we saw an impressive male Svalbard Reindeer grazing on the crest of the next rise.

A male Svalbard Reindeer

He was a beauty. Let me give you a little background on him and his family.

Svalbard Reindeer

Grazing male

Svalbard has its own Reindeer, which is (like all things Svalbard) the northernmost living herbivore mammal in the world.

The 10,000 animals on the island can be found on nearly all vegetated areas of the archipelago (about 10 percent of the land mass).

They are the only large grazing mammal in the European high arctic. All the materials I read before the trip said that they would be everywhere. That wasn’t exactly true, but we did see them in multiple locations.

The smallest reindeer subspecies, males average 140-200 lbs. (still pretty big) and females weigh 120-155 lbs., about half the size of other Reindeer.

The two types are vastly different; Left, Svalbard Reindeer; Right, Mountain Reindeer

The Svalbard Reindeer is endemic to Svalbard, meaning that it doesn’t live anywhere else. It has lived there for at least 5,000 years.

Scratching an antler

Well-adapted to the harsh winter climate, the Svalbard Reindeer is short-legged and has a relatively small, rounded head. Its exceptionally thick fur, which ranges from grayish tan to white, is lighter and plusher during winter.

Last year's antler

Reindeer and their cousins, Caribou, are the only animals in which females grow antlers. Males develop their large antlers in spring (April to July), shed the velvet in early fall (August-September) and lose their antlers in early winter.

Females keep their antlers longer, dropping them after they give birth in June. Both sexes start growing new antlers as soon as they drop the old ones.

Of note: since males drop antlers well before Christmas, that means Santa's Reindeer were female.

Svalbard Reindeer forage in areas where snow has less chance to accumulate – mountain slopes, ridgelines and sheltered plateaus.

Grazing at Fjortende Julibukta

During the summers when access to food is easier, they spend almost all their time feeding so they can accumulate enough fat to help them survive the winter. They tend to form small groups of about five members during the summer feeding season.

In the winter, the small groups coalesce into larger herds as they are pushed together by food scarcity.

Alone on a scree slope, Fjortende Julibukta

While they are generally sedentary, Svalbard Reindeer can reach speeds of 50 mph for short distances. Baby Svalbard Reindeer, almost always a single calf, are born in June and stay with their mothers to nurse for three months.

Annual birth rates vary widely – from 10 to 90 percent – depending on how harsh the previous winter was.

Svalbard Reindeer live for an average of 10 years, but some have been recorded as reaching 17 years. They have no natural predators; starvation keeps the population in balance. Yes, a Polar Bear might eat a dead one or take down a sick or injured one, but they generally find Svalbard Reindeer too difficult to chase down (and, don't forget those antlers!).

Svalbard Reindeer were hunted almost to extinction in the early 1900s but dedicated recovery programs helped the species to repopulate.

Even in summer, Svalbard Reindeer have thick coats

After watching the buck on the hill for a while, the group moved on. We saw another one and then, another.

A male Svalbard Reindeer resting on the hillside

The second one was a female Svalbard Reindeer off in the distance. She had apparently attracted the attention of the hiking group in front of us. I don’t know why, but this photo says a lot to me.

The odds are uneven

There is something absurd about a huge group of people standing together to photograph a lone animal. But, I am almost always in that group!

The Reindeer seemed curious, timidly approached the gathered photographers and then, probably upon realizing that those red-clad thingies could be a threat, she bolted off.

Curious, then skittish

Then, we heard a rumor that an Arctic Fox had been spotted just over another ridge. This could absolve the pain of missing the one at Gnålodden.

Did it ever!

A beautiful Arctic Fox

This Arctic Fox was a brown morph, as compared to a blue morph from the previous day, but it hadn’t completely lost its white coat, giving it the appearance of having a striped tail.

You can still see lots of the winter coat

It was just over a rise, eating something that the guides later determined was a fish. We hiked over to the ridge and merged with the other hiking group to get some photos.

Enjoying lunch

After the Fox had finished gnawing on the fish, it sauntered down the hill and curled up for a nap. That’s when the folks on the Zodiacs, including Scott, were able to get some pictures.

Shore view; Photos: Scott Stevens

Arctic Fox

Also known as the White Fox, Polar Fox or Snow Fox, the Arctic Fox is native to the arctic Northern Hemisphere and is common throughout the tundra.

Gnawing on a fish

Well-adapted to living in cold environments, the Arctic Fox does not start to shiver until the temperature drops to -94° F (yep, you read that right). Its thick, warm fur provides the best insulation of any mammal, often increasing about 140 percent from summer to winter.

Arctic Foxes are more challenged for food on Svalbard, where there are no small mammals

It is the only canid with fur-covered foot pads and the temperature in its paws are independent from its core body temperature; if the core temperature drops, the pad of the foot will remain constantly above the tissue freezing point.

The Arctic Fox is only about 24 inches long and has a less angular body than a Red Fox, which helps it better contain body heat. About 22 percent of the total body surface area of the Arctic Fox dissipates heat readily, compared to Red Foxes at 33 percent.

The tail acts as a blanket

To further prevent heat loss, the Arctic Fox curls up and tucks its legs and head under its body. Then, it wraps its fluffy tail around itself like a blanket.

Even though they don’t hibernate, Arctic Foxes spend much of the winter out of the wind and elements in their dens.

They build up their fat reserves in the fall, sometimes increasing their body weight by more than 50 percent so that they will have adequate insulation and a source of energy when food is scarce.

Their noses, ears, legs and feet lose the most heat, which is useful in the summer for thermal heat regulation. The nose uses evaporative cooling like dogs, which keeps the brain cool during the summer or when they are actively moving about.

White morph; Photo: Scott Stevens

Arctic Foxes have two genetically distinct coat color morphs: white and blue.

The white morph has seasonal camouflage, white in winter and brown along the back with light grey around the abdomen in summer.

The one we saw in Bamsebu was a white morph in its brown summer coat. As I said, it was still molting some of its heavy white winter coat.

Blue morph; Photo Marcelo Flores

The blue morph is dark blue, brown or grey year-round (you will recall that’s what our shipmates saw at Gnålodden).

Although the blue is actually dominant over white, 99 percent of the Arctic Fox population is the white morph. The color is often indicative of environment. The white morph mainly lives inland and blends in with the snowy tundra, while the blue morph occupies the coasts because its dark color blends in with the cliffs and rocks.

Svalbard has a higher percentage of blue morph Arctic Foxes than the rest of the arctic.

Arctic Foxes live in large, complex southward-facing (for warmth) dens in frost-free, slightly raised ground. The dens have tunnels that can cover as much as 1,200 square yards and are often in long ridges of sedimentary material deposited in formerly glaciated regions. The dens are used by many generations of foxes, often for many decades.

A great photo op

Stealing an egg; Photo: Marcelo Flores

Arctic Foxes prey primarily on seabirds and eggs. They also eat Ringed Seal pups, fish, waterfowl, carrion, berries, seaweed and insects.

They often forage and cache food (especially eggs) to be eaten in the winter when food is more difficult to come by.

Arctic Foxes that live in areas with relatively reliable food sources will have up to five pups every year.

Arctic Foxes are primarily monogamous and both parents will care for the offspring; however, where food is abundant – as it is in Svalbard – they are more promiscuous and have more complex social structures.

Overall, the Arctic Fox’s hearing is less sensitive than a dog, but it has a keen sense of smell. They can smell carcasses left by Polar Bears up to 25 miles away.

A stylish departure

On to the End of the Spit

While we were photographing the Fox, it started to rain a bit harder, so I stopped to put the rain cover on my camera. A few years ago in Alaska, my camera got wet and stopped working, so I didn’t want that to happen again. When I looked up, my hiking group was gone! Well, so much for keeping track of all participants.

Hiking group

I joined the group I was standing with and we moved on down the hill toward the second Zodiac landing.

As we were walking, we heard that there were some Belugas close to shore! Time to hurry again. But, hurrying in the moraine edge that formed the beach was virtually impossible. You just can't make progress in a loose pile of gravel. So, we plodded toward the beach.

We did not make it in time to get pictures much better than I already had of Belugas.

My shot of the Belugas; close but still not very interesting

Hella had managed to get a few nice ones from her Zodiac, however.

Much better capture; Photo: Hella Martens, G Adventures

Photo: Scott Stevens

The end of the spit is filled with historically significant Beluga whaling artifacts, most of which I missed! Somehow, in my quest for Reindeer, Fox and Whale, I spent too much time to allow me to walk down to the area filled with whale bones, boats and equipment. The artifacts are so rustic that you tend to think that they harken back several centuries. Actually, most are from the early 20^th century.

Photos: Scott Stevens

Photo; Rosemaries Keough, G Adventures

Around 1930, Ingvald Svendsen established a Beluga hunting station in Ingebrigtsenbukta, now called Bamsebu.

Although it resembled Gnålodden, this was a more complete facility with lots of processing equipment. It is the only remaining example of such a station in Svalbard.

Remains from the hunting of Beluga in the 1930s are scattered along the headlands, beaches and bays of the area, and they tell the story of large-scale slaughtering.

How did I miss all that stuff? Oh, I don't know: Foxes? Belugas? Reindeer?