July 25, 2010 Svalbard: Leaving Longyearbyen heading out to sea

<---- Julie Costello, North Dakota and the Explorer

Pulling into the dock, we quickly unloaded and grabbed our gear and walked up the plank after we took pictures. The people who had previously been on the Explorer went ahead or stayed behind to watch us. Julie and I ran over to the side of the ship for our photos. We were tickled.

As I placed my foot on the gangway, I wryly thought this was the last time I would touch "real" land in a week. It's not that I didn't expect to touch land on Svalbard, but this represented the end of civilization. After crossing over, I would have no access to t.v., radio, cinema, newspapers, or the ability to just leave if I wanted off. Getting on a plane, I am always aware that in a few hours I will be getting off the plane. This was going to extended summer camp - with adults and lots of cameras. I hurried up the stairs and thought not another thing about what I'd be "missing" over the next week, ready to start the trip.

Julie and I found our bags as sorted by color and thus cabin level. We were informed as we made our way inside near the gallery there had been a change in our room assignments. We were still on the ship, just in a much smaller room. We were bunking with the staff. The ship is divided into three accommodation levels - passengers, staff, crew. We were staff.

Dragging our luggage down the deck flights, we met some of the staff and our most important contact Karen Copeland. Karen was one of the primary naturalist on the trip, but more important she was our go-to girl. Karen walked us to our quarters and explained the change in plan. Opening the door to our room, we laughed and told her it would all be good. She left and we went in. And we laughed. Very, very hard. The room was tiny. Two women, two suitcases, lots of small baggage, two bunks, a table and a chair did not leave much room for the imagination to wander.

As we started to unpack, they announced we'd be leaving Longyearbyen shortly. Grabbing cameras and jackets left the cabin and stopped. The cabin was in the middle of the boat about equal distance from the staircases on either end. Not sure where to go, we picked a direction and ran for the staircase. Once on deck, we chatted about who was going to cast us off if the crew needed to be on board. We didn't see anyway for a crew mate to jump after untying the ropes. The answer came as we watched a guy cast the ropes and wave to us, before going back to his vehicle. We slowly made our way out of port as we watched the man who had untied us, turn on his cab light as he slowly drove back into town. At least we now know that yes, Lonyearbyen had a cab company and he has a second job.

Moving out of the bay, we were told a life jacket safty demonstration would be in the lounge shortly and to bring your life vest with you. We went back to our room to prepare until the call came.

Back in the room we first had to find another life vest as we only had the one. That solved, we started glancing around our home for the next week. We started looking at cabinet space and the minuscule bathroom we were happy for what we had, but started to wonder how this was really going to work. We also figured out this was going to be just like camp. It's a good thing we decided to like each other the night before or this was going to be a very, very long trip. Our window consisted of a porthole a few feet above the water line - at least we'd be able to see the seals (or so we thought). A narrow entrance way had the bathroom on the left hand side and a closet on the right. Next to the closet was a small dresser. Next to the dresser was a table and chair. Next to the table and chair was about two feet of room with pegs on the wall. Then you ran into my pillow and bed that was perpendicular to the hall space. Attached to the wall above were my feet would rest was three small wooden shelves perfect for all my eye drops and other medicinal supplies like toothpaste! Across from the desk/dresser was Julie's bed. Toward the inside wall near her bed, there was another shelf about two feet deep, perfect for sweaters and shirts. Above that was a large wooden panel. Thinking it was more storage space, we greedily opened it up, only to have a third bed and mattress magically appear. We slammed it back shut, hooted with laughter and finished unpacking. (The head of her bed bumped against the bathroom wall.) It was soon apparent the suitcases would not fit under either bed (board blocked most of the room under the beds and the suitcases were too broad), nor would they fit in the closet (we had clothing stashed in there! And the suitcases were too tall). Taking quick stock, the only solution was to get rid of the chair. As it was, we hardly had enough room to stand, we could sit on the beds, the desk space would be much more valuable for our camera bags, jewelery and chargers.

Julie was sweet enough to offer to ditch the chair. It was comical watching her in the hallway with the unwanted chair. Crew would pass and she would say, "excuse me... could you... we don't want this..." and they would be just as confused as to what to do with it. Finally someone offered to take it off her hands and she came back inside the room. We never saw the chair again and I hope someone knows where it was stashed for the next person who gets the room and wonders why they don't have a chair.

We took our life preserves up to the lounge. I kept thinking of the Titanic movies where everyone has gathered in the main room huddled together in their jackets waiting for news. We didn't wait long. Just like the safety measure on the airplane, the safety course explained what to do and how to do it. This was much more interactive than on an airplane. We took a field trip. To the lifeboats. Each lifeboat holds sixty passengers. There are small outlined butt marks on the seats - fifteen on each outside edge and fifteen on each side of a middle row. Each lifeboat also has heat blankets and enough food for a month. It's also enclosed and has the same motor as on the zodiacs. We were impressed with everything except perhaps the lack of room in each boat and the food options. We were told to memorize the number of our lifeboat in case something happened and told if there was an emergency to grab your life jacket (if you are able to) and medications, but not anything else. I hoped we didn't need it.

There was an additional course in the afternoon for safety while outside the ship - kayak, zodiac, land cruises. We learned polar bears are dangerous - they look safe and cuddly, but in reality even three miles away is a bit close. They look sluggish,but when they want something they attack quickly and vengefully. All our guides would carry armaments. We were not to touch any of the guns at any time. They gave us specific examples of how and when guests thought they knew better than the guides. We nodded. One of the big things was to NOT WANDER OFF and STAY WITH THE GROUP. Apparently, people will stop following the naturalists/photographers and instead linger behind to get that one last shot. We were told this was a bad idea and stay with the group. Polar bears were a constant threat on land. We would also have a selection of activities. When viable there would be a kayak, zodiac cruise, long hike, medium hike, short hike, and photo walk available. The medium, short, and photo walk hikes could be paired with a zodiac cruise if time allowed. Everything could change in a moment and everything would change if an ice bear showed up. Terrified, frightened, excited, awed, we made our way back to the cabin to rest.

We spent our first evening on the ship making our way across the waters of southern Svalbard heading toward the ice flows. Small pieces of ice already floated in the water like small pebbles kicked by children when they left a beach.

At dinner we sat by new friends and talked over the day and what we wanted to see. Everyone sill chuckled when I said I wanted ice. I was told multiple times to stare out the window. And thus I did. I spent a great deal of time staring at the water ripple under the blade of the ship as we cut a swarthy path against the slate blue sky.