Here we are, almost at the top of the world, bumping against pack ice, searching for that special stuff, denizens of the north, iconic symbol of the Arctic and there it is, a polar bear! It is still some ways off, so there is plenty of time to grab a camera and binoculars or if you want a better, albeit colder view, go to the bow or monkey island and take a jacket and hat too.
National Geographic Explorer slowly nudges up against the ice. We are close to the bear and what seemed to be a nearby kill from the distance is revealed to be an old meal. The bear appears to be almost unaware of our presence, amazing really. It is as though we are on the transparent side of a one-way window. Oh, he knows something is going on; something is out there, but nothing to compel a hunt or flee response. And yes, we know he is male. Not only is his neck as wide as his head and not only does he have a characteristic slash on his foreleg from a presumed fight with another male, but he also decides to lay on his back and show us a most conclusive piece of evidence. I must say, a tiny voice in my head exclaims, “He knows we are here. He knows who we are and what we want. He is mocking us!” And so it goes, rubbing his back on the snow, licking his paws clean, checking the old kill to see if anything is left or has grown back, intimidating a gathering of hopeful birds: the usual glaucous gulls and the unexpected ravens. We leave this bear as we found him, on the ice.
In the afternoon we turn into Muskox fjord. There is fresh snow on the upper slopes of the surrounding mountains and a pile of male walrus on a beach at the end of a jutting low ridge composed of small, flat, fragments of limestone. It is not everyday that we have the opportunity to view walruses from land and it is a little more work. Expedition Leader Lisa, aka BB, divides the ship’s company into thirds. One third goes to shore at a time. We land about a quarter mile away from the herd, out of their sight and quietly approach to a point above them. Three times we do this, very carefully not to disturb the walruses that would then stampede into the water and we would be branded LOSERS! No losers here, just nature lovers and avid photographers! Finally, once again we leave as we came, with nothing the worse for wear except our memory cards and over-stimulated minds.
The High Arctic, what an amazing place, what amazing creatures! But one more image draws me in, lights the fire in my head and shows me something important. It is not an easy life, but if you are lucky you can have a bit of shelter to keep you out of the wind, a bit of stable ground to put down your roots, and some sun and water to build a strong body. This is not enough to make you famous; to have your picture on the front of a magazine, but it is more than okay if you are a tiny Arctic mouse-eared chickweed. You do not need to be a ferocious giant to live here, but it is probably more fun.
