If I Were Going...: Bucket List Biggie

Kittiwakes feeding beneath the glacier face

The weather continued in its gray vein – actually getting grayer and grayer and misting a little with rain. So, when we set out after lunch for Brepollen, I wasn’t confident it was going to be a good trip.

Looking a bit foreboding

But, it was.

Once again, Scott and I were in different Zodiacs. He opted to go with Gerard and I went with Marcelo (I guess I was hoping his luck photographing the Arctic Fox in the morning would continue).

Our Zodiacs stayed close to each other for most of the expedition

Map: G Adventures

This outing was to be strictly in the water with no landings.

We were headed to Brepollen, which is, according to G Adventures, “one of the most impressive glacial bays in Svalbard.”

As recently as 1936, the three tidewater glaciers that ring the bay – Storbreen, Hornbreen and Chomjakovbreen – formed one continuous glacier front. Over the ensuing decades the glaciers have shrunk, pulling apart into three different faces.

I haven't provided much background on glaciers. But, don't worry, I covered glaciers in detail when I blogged about my trip to Kenai Fjords in Alaska last year.

You can see the break in the glacier face to the left

The definition of a glacier is "a persistent body of dense ice that is constantly moving under its own weight." On Earth, 99 percent of glacial ice is contained within vast ice sheets in the polar regions and glaciers cover about 10 percent of Earth's land surface. As I mentioned before, they cover 60 percent of Svalbard.

Brepollen glacier faces

The glaciers we were seeing are tidewater glaciers, or glaciers that flow into the ocean. With the kind of shrinkage seen at Brepollen, it would not be a stretch to predict that someday those glaciers would retreat to the point that they no longer slide directly into the sea. Let's hope that is a far way off.

This is one of the taller, thicker faces at Brepollen

Still, the Brepollen glaciers were some of the largest we encountered and the bay was filled with a few rather sizeable icebergs, some of which had grounded in the shallow bay, making it possible for us to approach close enough to touch them. An unmoored iceberg can be dangerous to approach because icebergs have a habit of suddenly flipping over when melting causes them to become unbalanced. But, the grounded ones stay put.

The Brepollen ice had good variety in terms of color. We saw the white, blues and grays we had seen at Lilliehöökbreen ...

Brepollen ice up close

... but we also saw lots of icebergs striated with glacial debris. It’s not quite as pretty, but it is interesting to ponder how long those small rocks and gravel have been trapped in the glacier and where they came from.

These bergs – both anchored – were full of debris

Several people in another zodiac thought they saw a seal swimming through the icy waters, but we never saw one. We did have some Black Guillemots swimming very close.

Black Guillemot

A few even flew off, giving us an even better view of their red feet.

Not a graceful flyer, but colorful

We also had a few more close encounters with Arctic Terns resting on bergies. The birds are famous for their migration; they fly from the arctic to the antarctic and back again each year, roughly 22,000 miles roundtrip. This long journey ensures that they see two summers per year and more daylight than any other creature on the planet.

Talkative Arctic Terns

I heard that scientists plan to study them in the upcoming 2021 solar eclipse in Antarctica to see how they react to total darkness, something they rarely see.

Black-Legged Kittiwake

The biggest presence in the bay was Black-Legged Kittiwakes. Many were perched on the top of bergie bits, looking sparkly white in the muted light. And, like the Terns, they didn't seem fazed at all by the big black Zodiacs cruising by with their noisy motors and bright-red-clad inhabitants.

I mentioned before that Kittiwakes are noisy; I didn't mention that their name comes from their call, a shrill "kittee-wa-aaake, kitte-wa-aaake."

Most impressive, however, were the Kittiwakes (and a few Glaucous Gulls) that were both sitting atop and swimming below an overhanging chunk of the glacier.

A magical gathering and feeding spot

The moody contrast between the dark cave-like opening under the glacier and the white and blue ice was arresting. The arctic is a place of spectacular beauty and we were lucky to experience it.

A couple of big Glaucous Gulls stand out among the more delicate Black-Legged Kittiwakes

After motoring about, Marcelo announced that it was time to start threading our way back to the ship. Still on the lookout for seals, we thought we saw one. But, no, it wasn't

It was a Walrus!

Could that be a Walrus?

A fairly young, probably male, solitary Walrus.

He was just minding his own business

We watched him swimming and diving about a 100 or more feet away and then we started toward the ship again. Scott’s Zodiac was ahead of us and did not turn back to see the Walrus. A couple of Zodiacs behind us stopped and the Walrus started approaching them!

"Our" Walrus

I was aggravated – they were getting a good view of the Walrus we found!

Apparently, Marcelo had the same thought. He stopped, announced, “That was our find,” and turned the Zodiac around. My kind of guy!

The three boats still in the bay, including ours, got quite a show!

Poor Scott, his boat did not stick around and he never even saw the Walrus.

That little (!?) Walrus was intrigued by us. He was so close we could have touched him. He was so close my long lens wouldn't work.

He swam around our Zodiacs, even passing between two boats.

He raised himself out of the water to look at us.

And, once, he actually twirled 360 degrees so that, presumably, we could get a better look at him.

He teased.

He postured.

He flirted.

He blew bubbles.

He won our hearts.

How did we know he was young? Size. Shorter tusks. A relatively smooth, scar-free hide. And, his curiosity.

"Our" guy was obviously younger than the walruses we saw at Magdalenefjorden

More on Walruses

I talked about Walruses in my post about Magdalenefjorden. Here’s a little bit more general information on these fascinating creatures.

The haul-out at Magdalenefjorden

Walruses have a broad mat of stiff bristles surrounding their tusks, giving them a characteristic whiskered appearance.

Close-up of Walrus Bristles

These “whiskers” play an important role in Walrus feeding because they are attached to muscles and supplied with blood and nerves, making them highly sensitive. Capable of differentiating shapes as small as 3mm thick and 2mm wide, they help Walruses find food on the ocean floor.

Walruses can have up to 700 12-inch-long bristles in 15 rows across their faces. In the wild, the bristles are often worn down by constant use in foraging.

Walruses have wrinkled, thick skin with patchy, sparse fur. The skin can be up to four inches thick in big males and the underlying blubber can be another six inches thick. No wonder they move more freely in the water than on land.

This older Walrus at Poolepynten (to come) is pink

Young Walruses are deep brown and grow paler and more cinnamon-colored as they age. Old males, in particular, become nearly pink.

Because skin blood vessels constrict in cold water, Walruses can appear almost white when swimming.

The Walrus has an air sac under its throat that acts as a flotation bubble and allows the Walrus to bob vertically in the water to sleep.

Walruses live to about 20-30 years old in the wild. Babies are able to swim immediately. The mothers nurse for over a year before weaning, but the young can spend up to five years with their mothers. Walrus milk contains higher amounts of fats and protein compared to land animals but lower compared to Seals. This lower fat content in turn causes a slower growth rate among calves and a longer nursing investment for their mothers. Females give birth at most every two years, leaving the Walrus with the lowest reproductive rate of any pinniped.