“On second thought, she made up her mind to go on: ‘for I certainly won’t go back she thought to herself’”
Though the Looking Glass
I’m back! After an extended hiatus from blogging, I have returned. I am a bit rusty, but let’s see if we can dust off the ole travel writing. What have you missed? Greenland, Uganda and Rwanda to name a few. Perhaps I might be inspired to revisit those, if my memories will agree. If you are new to my blog, be aware. This is a stream of consciousness style recollection, much like the random conversation you may have with me on a trip. It is not a complete story, but instead, a record of the memories that took residence in my brain.
To start, we must return to the same place we last visited together, the High Arctic. I am not one to repeat big trips, but a moment of weakness in a safari truck in Uganda (the ideal spot for making major life decisions) and the promise of a full solar eclipse on the shores of Greenland, was enough for me to say yes. And what a great decision it was.
It took the sun and moon to align for this cast of characters to assemble and it truly was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I am so lucky to continuously find new kindred spirits from all over the world to add to my collection of the Best of the Species Crowd I am assembling. You might want to pour a glass of wine or bring the bottle. It was a 20-day trip and I show little restraint with both stories and adjectives.
I haven’t historically named names in my stories, but this is my Characters Era, so I will introduce some of them as we go. Meet Louise and Trae. We met 11 years ago on the MS Expedition enroute to Antarctica and had stayed in varying degrees of contact until we all reconnected last year in Uganda. Independently, we have all been to the 7 continents and are now collectively trying to visit all 7 together. More on that to come. And because they share the idea that you can never end an adventure without a plan for the next, our visit to Uganda last year has led us to the Arctic. And so we planned this 20 day trip, 15 of which would be spent on the G Adventures ship, the MS Expedition. We would travel from Svalbard to Greenland to Iceland in search of whales, polar bears and Totality. Yes, we hoped to observe a full solar eclipse from somewhere in Greenland.
Our journey began in Oslo where Trae and I planned to spend the day in sunlight to push through the jet lag. Having never traveled before, I committed the rookie mistake of sleeping right through my alarm and blowing my first morning of jet lag recovery. Alas. So after a bit of a late start, we hit the streets where I was immediately accosted by a sea gull who decided he wanted my bite of lemon loaf. This would be the first of many bird irritations I would face on this journey. I thought it might be best to put some antiseptic on the streaks of split skin where his teeth or beak or whatever is sharp on their face (an answer myself and others would stubbornly not learn on this trip). Turns out, Norwegians do not get sick or hurt on the weekend as every pharmacy was closed. I made do with sanitizers and soaps and decided that the only real solution was wine.

And then dinner and back to the hotel for an early flight to Svalbard. The key element of this plan being to actually wake when one of my four alarms rang. Trae and I love both the adventure and the perks of travel so there was no way we would not hit up the airport lounge before our flight. After a coffee, we ate our weight in the most amazing Norwegian butter (who knew?) and biscuits and leisurely walked to our gate. Only to discover that Passport Control was standing between us and our gate. Oopsie. We had to work a little magic to get into a shorter line and were the third and fourth to last folks to board the plane. We really do believe in making an entrance.
And so, to Longyearbyen, Svalbard we journeyed. I wish I could say “New Country Day”, but this trip involved only countries previously visited, so I had to be comforted with others saying it. Traveler woes. Longyearbyen is a wee town with a population of approximately 1600-2500 depending on the season. Interesting fact, there are 53 countries represented in this town with an annual turnover of nearly 20%. They clearly feel the same way about commitment that I do. We did all the necessary things to do in town, walk to the polar bear sign where they tell you to wait here for a polar bear hug, watch folks get attacked by arctic terns defending their nests (the terns’ nests, not the peoples), coffee in the café and of course, a trip to the Northernmost Pub in the world. Having been to the Southernmost Bar in the world (remember us Vernadsky Station in Antarctica?), we hatched a plan.

We formed a strictly regulated group called the League of Potions, with the primary focus being shots and cocktails consumed in countries, continents and poles and inspired by the previously mentioned “visit all continents together” concept. There is an In Progress Constitution to be transferred into Draft form upon the conclusion of the writing of this blog that stipulates rules about admission to the League, when, what and where drinks are to be consumed and that we must never show up to an introductory trip briefing sober, the Espresso Martini Clause. If I ever write the Uganda blog, that piece will make a whole lot more sense. Applications should be available to submit upon the onset of the 2027 trip.
Ship Day One: The Herd is Formed
We had to drop our luggage and check out of the hotel early(ish) so we got to spend the day trolling for fellow passengers, making up their backstories and enjoying those beers before boarding. I won’t lie that as we boarded the bus and made our way to the ship, my excitement was palatable (also could have been the beer). I have loved all the G Adventures trips taken on this ship and could already tell this would be amazing. My first site of the tiny boat anchored in the bay made me giddy, especially when you compared it to the cruise ship docked on the pier. Our 106 passengers compared to the 2500 let us know that we were going places that few others could access. And I couldn’t wait.

Louise was busy chatting with some of the folks we had collected but Trae and I could not be contained. We may have hopped the line, grabbed some life vests, introduced ourselves to the expedition guide and got on the second Zodiac to the ship.
Tangent alert: When we booked this trip, Louise was in a Triple room and Trae and I were set to be roommates. He and I are both Introverts (yes, I am) and fully capable of putting each other in a time-out when we are grumpy, so it made sense. But as the trip grew near, the idea of our own rooms became increasingly more interesting. So, we ponied up the cash to break up and celebrated our good decision making. I am certain this led to not only our, but the entire ships good fortune. There are some things money can, and should buy, and solitude is definitely one of them.
Back on the boat- once settled and unpacked, we met in the lounge for the first briefing (and Drink of the Day- notice the theme?). If you travel on a trip with me, no one travels alone, so we immediately collected the solo and single travelers and made them part of our pack. Many of the folks on the boat had already been to the South Pole and were crossing off the North so these were definitely my people. We also met what would be a super fun Expedition Team to lead us through the next 15 days. You may remember the Guillemot Zodiac group formed on the last Arctic trip. This year, we became the Reindeer and the planets aligned to make sure that we had the most spirited of groups. Anytime you heard the word reindeer over the next 15 days, inevitably, someone’s hands would make the reindeer sign and everyone would yell “Reindeer.” For the rest of ever, I will have that reaction when I hear the word or see the animal. Christmas is gonna be exhausting.
Ship Day Two: The Tsunami Incident
I awoke early because apparently the whales and polar bears could not, in fact, be spotted from my bed so I dressed and headed to breakfast. We had selected a lovely table in the corner of the dining room for our little group the previous night and were quite happy to return to it for breakfast. Little did we know that this would soon become the site of The Table Turf Wars of the Solar Eclipse. We would happily enjoy this table for the next few days until a group of interlopers (clearly not Reindeer) decided they preferred this table and would assume it for themselves. While we were happy to share it for breakfast and lunch as we were a bit random in our arrival and/or participation in those meals, there was no way we were giving it up for dinner. Fortunately, the bar tender had become our bestie because, well The League of Potions, and he initiated Project Don’t Touch Their Table. For the remainder of the trip, he would slip into the Lounge (soon to be named The Living Room) during the evening Cocktail Hour (I mean Daily Briefing) and take our sweatshirts. He would then place them on not one, but two tables to hold our spots. Reindeer 1: Interlopers 0.
But I digress. Back to the day. After breakfast, we had our mandatory Arctic briefing about safety, respect for the environment, boat rules and other things that kept me from being outside. It is good to know, though, that we always spot for polar bears before we go ashore and when we are on shore, there are sentries with rifles that watch on our behalf. This will become relevant in a bit. While most folks stayed inside for what was likely a very interesting lecture about the polar regions, I donned my coat and camera and hit the decks. And what a great call that was. I happened upon some of our expedition team all looking to the shore with binoculars and cameras. Our first polar bear had been spotted. I was able to hang out with them for about 30 minutes before the rest of the ship heard “Dear Passengers. Leo here from the bridge” and the decks were suddenly filled with bodies that had legs and arms, but cameras and binoculars had taken the place of faces. The sweet bear walked along shore, took a long swim, caught a bite to eat and then walked off. He was completely unconcerned with us. Sadly though, the shoreline was littered with trash that floated to this island from far off lands. The impact you make runs far beyond your little place in the world.

Hopefully the title of this section was intriguing, and I will delay no longer in sharing its reason. Our afternoon excursion was a zodiac cruise in the Raudfjorden, with a beautiful glacier head to observe. There was a bit of blue ice, so we knew it was active, but the ride started rather uneventfully. Our Reindeer Spirit Polar Guide, Matt, was our leader on this outing and we kicked off the ride discussing the scientific experiment we needed to conduct about the criticality of glacier ice in gin and tonics and which gin, Icelandic or Greenlandic, might be the better choice. At this point, Matt was either really grateful for or really regretting his slot in the zodiac pickup line. And then our fortunes changed, we saw a small calving and then heard that our Expedition Leader, Leo, had found a surprise landing spot for us. So, we headed over the landing as another, slightly bigger calving event happened. We hopped onto this tiny landing spot as a third, rather large, calving occurred and the waves began to increase in speed and size. We all stood in awe, as we heard one of our guides say, nay yell past me, “don’t step there” as I looked over his shoulder and watched a significant piece of the glacier fall to the sea, the fourth calving in less than 20 minutes. And then, a moment of still before chaos ensued.
Side note: As children in my era, we were all terrified of both the Bermuda Triangle and Quicksand. Exposure therapy helped me get through my fear of the Bermuda Triangle and as for quicksand, I don’t believe it exists.
From my spot on top of a small hill, I turned to see five things happening all at once. One, Louise and Lynn, had, in fact, found quicksand and sank well up to their knees. Folks were trying to pull them out to varying degrees of success. Trae had extricated Louise who had managed to partially extricate Lynn, sans boots. Two, the waves were now in full force, breaking high over the rocks and moving into our small piece of land. People were scrambling to get to safer ground while trying to avoid joining the quicksand crew. Three, our zodiacs were now alternating between running aground onto piles of rocks and sand and being thrown out to sea courtesy of the waves. Four, the expedition team was valiantly trying to get the zodiacs safely out to sea, while getting tossed in and out of boats or submerged under water. Five, the small piece of glacier on the landing spot, previously quiet, was now starting to pop and spit ice, clearly jealous of the entertainment her big sister was providing and hoping to get in on the action. One of our guides saw it and tried to move us to a new location, crossing her fingers for the best outcome, but knowing its futility.
It was then that observation number six hit. Our sentries, the ones tasked with polar bear spotting, were busy either saving people from quicksand or boats from destruction. And the rifle had just gone underwater with one of the crew.
Being me, I couldn’t contain my enthusiasm and could be heard yelling over the insanity “Best Zodiac Cruise. Ever.”

Then things calmed, Matt picked us up and we headed back to the boat…..until our zodiac engine died. Raudfjorden wasn’t done with us yet. What, we must sit by this beautiful glacier for longer? Let me get comfortable. I am quite content.
I must pause here for a little disclosure. While most of that story is told accurately and we have photos and video to support it, my telling of the sentry’s version is likely a product of my amused memory and not my reality. This crew is extremely professional and there were very likely always eyes out for bears. Were we in danger? Only a little, but mostly from hurting ourselves laughing.
Needless to say, Happy Hour that night was filled with retelling of the story to those who witnessed it from the sea and the first rounds of Phase 10. It was just day two and already, the evening entertainment had been extended to allow for a late-night karaoke and dance party. Best friends already. So, onward we went.
Ship Day Three: The Quest for Santa
Today we headed for the ice sheet. Our boat turned directly north toward the pack ice, in search of Santa. He wasn’t actually listed on the daily agenda, so I can only assume Santa was implied. I’ve seen the movie Elf, so I knew for certain we would find Mr. Narwhal there. Our ship was a Class1A ship, which made it capable of moving through the ice pack, but was not “technically” an Icebreaker. I say “technically” because had we really ever tested it?? Perhaps it was capable of more than we gave it credit for. You know me- what’s the worst that could happen? Let’s give this baby a challenge.
I don’t really understand ship coordinates and all that latitude and longitude stuff, but I did know for certain that we were NOT at the North Pole at the point the Captain surrendered his fight with the pack ice and turned the ship around. I’m not one to tell someone how to do their job, but I could see plenty of open spaces ahead. Clearly 1° was not on his Bucket List.
We did make it to 81°40’, the second furthest north I have been.

I spent much of the day either hanging out peacefully on the bow of the ship, chatting and watching the ice pack, or hanging out in what the ship has named “The Lounge” but we renamed “The Living Room” playing Phase 10.
For those that have travelled with me, you know that I am an avid Phase 10 promoter. I bring a deck on every trip and one fellow traveler, new to the game, is awarded this deck at the end of that trip. Pretty sure I should have a Phase 10 Deck named after me at this point. It has been played on all 7 continents, in countless countries and both poles. And so, the passengers of the Expedition were introduced to the game. The cards often stayed in the living room and games started and stopped without rules or reason as well as acquired their own particular jokes. We even resurrected “Stupid Josh” from Antarctica, though none of us could remember how it came to be. Let us hope that Laura and her Scottish friends are enjoying their new pastime.
In thinking back on this day, we didn’t spot whales or polar bears, Santa and Mr. Narwhal did not make an appearance, I am pretty sure I never made it past Phase 8, and my team came in almost dead last in that evening’s ship game. All in all, a good day.
Ship Day Four: I Didn’t Vomit Day! But I May Have Exaggerated a Bit.
This morning’s activity was both my favorite and least favorite activity of the trip. I remembered this from the last one but recalled too late that it would have been a good day to sit in the hot tub and watch the world go by. It was Alkefjellet day- the Bird Cliffs of Svalbard. The cliffs where 87 million birds live and fly and poop and fish and mate and generally cause a ruckus. And we spend 93 hours sailing by it in our zodiacs.
So, there were a lot of birders on our trip. Like a lot! I am not much of a fan of birds (an understatement. I genuinely don’t like birds). These folks did their absolute best to make me a birder. What did their success look like? Me, yelling “BIRD” whenever a bird flew past our boat (which is every three minutes by the way). When pressed for more details, it was often followed by “white…with wings.’ Fortunately, I think they found me charming enough to not quite hate me for my lack of interest and surplus of sass. I did find some kindred bird loathing souls on deck with me, so we had a support club. I see you Cristina.
Back to the bird wall. Despite all my bird dissing, there is actually one bird that is endeared to me. The guillemot. Not because it is graceful or beautiful or has a delightful song. But because it is a hot mess of a bird. It is a heavy boned bird designed to fly underwater as opposed to in the air. And because of that, it doesn’t land on the water. It crashes into it. Wings splayed outward, legs poised to land and then SPLASH, BOUNCE, CRASH. I can’t get enough of this. And when the babies are born, the dads stay with them. When it is time to learn to fly, they get pushed off the cliff. Sometimes they land in the water. Sometimes they crash onto the water. And sometimes they don’t make it to the water and bounce across the land, often then getting scooped up as food by an evil skua- the dad left to explain to the mom how their baby became lunch. And the bird cliffs of Svalbard- they are filled with guillemots. Billions of them. It is best not to look up, especially with your mouth open. I even turned some Reindeer into guillemot fans as well as we made guillemot a descriptor for spilling drinks, running into walls, tripping and the like. Such a guillemot move.

We were able to spot several adorable Arctic Foxes. I was hoping to see both these and Arctic Hares as I had seen the Arctic Fox on egg hunts before. I had just assumed it was the Arctic Hare that hid the chocolate eggs and was quite dismayed to find the eggs do, in fact, contain a baby guillemot and the Fox is yet another predator of my sweet little Spirit Bird. Perhaps that elusive Santa could have a word with the Recruiting Team for the Easter Bunny and see about getting this travesty addressed. The Arctic Hares we saw didn’t seem to be all that productive and could certainly use the work.
Today’s water matched my feelings on this landing. We had 200-foot swells for the duration of the 37 days we spent cruising along the cliffs of boredom. Crazy high swells which made for great photos but less than happy tummies. One sweet Reindeer on our zodiac looked at Rex, our guide, and said in her lovely accent “I believe I am feeling a bit seasick.” Rex, in all his kindness and practicality replied, “Good news, there is a bathroom all around you” waving at the sea. Turns out she wasn’t the only one. A lot of fish got to enjoy the waffles and scrambled eggs we had for breakfast. Me, however, held on to my breakfast. But stared at the horizon for the last bit of the ride, thinking fondly of the ginger candy left on the ship, knowing that onward was the only way to get this excursion to end.

That afternoon, we traded the Bird Cliffs of Punishment for Walrus Island, a lovely spot where a herd of walruses entertained us, watched us and swam for us. All on solid ground.

Ship Days Five and Six: The Arctic in a Nutshell
This might be a good time to refill that glass of wine or open a new bottle. We are only 1/3 into the trip. While the next two days were fantastic days for me, I can’t say there are many stories to share. We spent one morning cruising a glacier but didn’t make a landing. They claimed it was the absence of a location, but I saw plenty. Afterall, we survived the tsunami. We had rehearsed. Then, it was lots of wildlife watching on deck, lectures about cool Arctic stuff and Phase 10. Lots of Phase 10. The next day, we turned west for Greenland and had another smooth day at sea.

Perhaps now might be a good time to talk about life on an Expedition Ship. One hundred passengers, all with a spirit of adventure, a crew that has been onboard for years and an expedition team that truly loves what they do all make for a perfect environment. You are required to be best friends, if not family, the minute you step on board. You find your people but still have room for everyone else. You share travel stories, generously, not egotistically. Everyone shows their true selves, so you typically get teased about one thing that makes you “you” in the best way.
I had my early morning group that met on the observation deck, the Deck 7 crew as our guide Martin called us- the ones up early to maximize wildlife (not bird) spotting time as sleep could be done when we got home. (Now might be a good time to point out that my Oura ring went from 0 sleep debt to 10 hours by day three. It never recovered.). I had my Living Room group that played games, told stories, sang randomly, ordered every Drink of the Day and engaged in plenty of shenanigans. I had my Reindeer group, the group that always rode zodiacs together, flashed our gang sign and sang in the mudroom while waiting for our driver. I had the group of other groups that flexed and molded to include and support each other. And most of all, I had the group of new friends that would always and forever remain a part of this memory.
So, ship life. We eat in one dining room; you get three options for your dinner. As American’s say- you get what you get, and you don’t throw a fit. Australians have that saying all wrong. Sometimes there is entertainment, sometimes you entertain yourselves. You learn the names and the backgrounds of the crew. You learn so much from the expedition team, both formally in lectures and informally outside, as they generously share all that they know. The activities for the day are the activities for the day. Participate or don’t. But you always do. You are willing to shiver outside for hours on the off chance you might spot a spout or bear. You get excited about everyone’s photos, both jealous and happy for their success. You wear the same clothes, over and over. And no one cares. Sometimes they are clean. Mostly they are not.
And you laugh.
Ship Day Seven: The Firsts
Big whale morning for the Deck 7 Crew as we spotted both fin and blue whales. All were in the distance, but as a whale junkie, I will take it. I have lots of amazing photos of what water looks like just after a whale blows or surfaces.

Several members of the Expedition Team led us in activities for Citizen Science, an interesting and participatory data gathering group. It does some really great work contributing to research studies. Hoping to do my part, I also led some scientific studies. I already mentioned the very critical Gin & Tonic Study but now seems a good time to share the Petting Zoo Whale Spotting Study. One early morning, Julia, Harry and I were on deck enjoying coffee and watching for whales with the rest of the Deck 7 Crew. As life usually goes with me, I started to tell the random story about visiting a Petting Zoo as a child where a goat ate my dress. Within four minutes, we spotted a whale. And then more. Data point. Later that afternoon, we began to suspect the petting zoo story might be something, so Julia asked me to tell it again. Poof. Within four minutes, whales. Data point. I told the story again about 20 minutes later to test the theory. Nothing. Those whales had already heard it. Data point. They only like the story once. Fast forward a few days, days without any whales and Julia again suggests I tell the story. Yep. Whales galore. Within four minutes. We were able to scientifically prove that a new group of Arctic based whales responds favorable to my petting zoo story. I am happy to be hired to participate in any of your Arctic adventures to provide this service. Whales love to hear this story, but only the First time.

Early on in the trip, Polar Guide Matt and I had a conversation about Firsts and Time. I had once listened to a podcast about the passage of time. The general concept is, when our brain is engaged in routine activity, that we already know and understand, time passes quickly. But when it is in a new environment, doing, hearing, seeing new things, it takes time to register and process them. Because of that, time moves much slower. I start every trip telling everyone to take a moment to remember that instant. And at the end of the trip, we will revisit it and see how long ago it felt. Try it. It will amaze you.
Our passage across the Fram Strait had been an easy one and the weather had been in our favor since day one, a skill we would continue to flex throughout the trip. Our EL, Leo, decided we would attempt a bonus landing. There is a small island, Jan Mayen, in the middle of the strait. It is the northernmost active volcano above water and currently houses a small Norwegian science team. It is also almost always fogged in, with conditions that prevent landings. In fact, it had been months since anyone could make a landing there. Among our entire expedition team, only three had ever set foot on the island. It would be a First for so many. We heard that and said, “Hold our Drink of the Day. We got this.”
We let the fog hang out for the morning, so much that we caught barely a glimpse of the actual volcano. But then, just as we approached the island, we had the fog and clouds clear, the sun appear, the sea silence and set up an ideal landing.
We graciously let the expedition team go First to see the island (mostly because they hid the keys to the zodiacs from us) and then went ashore for a hike, fellowship and laughter. This was also our first calibration opportunity of the hiking difficulty scale, a mistake not repeated. This island was gorgeous and its few inhabitants generous with their enjoyment of our invasion. And what I might have loved most was the fact that, as we were heading back from the hike, a truck pulled up and popped open the back. There, before our eyes, was the most glorious thing we had seen in days. A gift shop. Much like Black Friday in the US, the shoppers swarmed the shop. T-shirts were flying, hats were modeled and pockets were soon filled with our newly acquired wares. I think what many of us were secretly most excited about was that we now had a new t-shirt to wear for the FIRST time! And it was clean.

Ship Day Eight: Hello Greenland. It Has Been Way Too Long
I visited Greenland a few years ago and it made its way into my heart. I adore it and could come back over and over. But this was my first time in East Greenland, so I was excited to see the difference.
During the morning, we were still sailing, but we watched on deck as the island grew larger and larger. Blue whales even welcomed us to the country. As it turned out, I would have to be content with the blue since the narwhal was nowhere be seen. Alas, I shall have to return.

We entered Greenland in the Storfjord, slowly sailing and admiring the majestic mountains and ice. We were headed to a glacier where we had the choice of a hike or a zodiac cruise. Having learned the questionable difficulty rating of hikes in Jan Mayen, we made the quick decision to ride. After all, we had a Happy Hour to attend, and the photographer was going with the hikers. It would be like we were in both places then. Problem sorted.

Today also brought us one of the first sunsets of the trip. Our guide Jeff taught us the difference between civil, nautical and astronomical sunsets, defined by how far the sun sits below the horizon. This was a civil sunset (0 to 6 degrees below the horizon) so it stayed light enough to see without a light. After not seeing the sun set completely for over a week, I think I need to modify my vacation day request. I clearly have only been gone one day.
Ship Day Nine: You Would Have Thought That Hare Was a Narwhal
Today we went deeper into Scoresbysund fjord. Seriously, could this country get any more gorgeous? As much as I wanted to be inside, listening to lectures, playing cards, sitting in the hot tub, writing this blog, editing photos or reading one of the six books I brought (I read six chapters of one), I could not stay inside for more than 30 minutes at a time. I would pop in, fill up the mug with cocoa, say hi to the peeps and then back outside I would go.
At least this morning, we had a zodiac cruise to amuse us. Ya know, stretch the legs and all that. We were at Bear Island but were quite dismayed to discover that unlike the aptly named Ugh More Bird Cliffs, there were not any bears on their island. Perhaps the growing number of small boats arriving for the eclipse kept them away. Perhaps it was the lack of sea ice. Or perhaps, they just went somewhere else to get away from all those birds. But no fear, everyone was excited because there were. Wait for it. Birds. A lot of birds. And some baby birds. They were white and brown and flew. Or didn’t fly. Don’t care. Apparently, one was spotted called the pink-footed-goose that inspired a rewrite of the Chappell Roan song at karaoke that night. Try getting that out of your head once it is there. The Disinterested Bird Club was convened for commiseration.

That afternoon was another hike, and we decided to do this one, having now fully calibrated Leo’s Hiking Difficult Rating. It was a gorgeous hike, one that I would have liked to spend about six more hours doing, but apparently, I wasn’t in charge and the zodiacs were going to leave me and blah blah blah. It was so warm, I was down to my now dirty, new t-shirt in no time. We did see some muskox (remains) and some recent polar bear (footprints) and an ancient Thule encampment. Yes, people lived here, in dug out holes in the land to keep warm. But the real star was not the pink-footed goose, but another Arctic Hare. This became the single most photographed creature of the entire trip. It was quite a sight to see 50 people with cameras pointed at this hare that was completely unimpressed with us. Last time I was in Greenland, Brad Pitt was there and there was no paparazzi. Take that Brad. The Arctic Hare raises you.
For me though, the real star of the hike was the view from the top. Looking out, into a sea filled with various forms of ice, cracking and calving as it made its way on its chosen path and fulfilling its role in nature’s process. This is my happiness and I would have been quite happy to take up residence in the Thule encampment. The polar bear could keep me warm.

Ship Day Ten: Pac Man Meet Reindeer
Not wanting to overexert ourselves for the once in a lifetime (or four times in a lifetime if you catch the bug) experience, this morning we had a simple zodiac cruise. I was in the tail end of the reindeer group and got to split a Martin led zodiac with some of the Arctic Fox crew. We had stayed near Bear Island the previous night since we had scored a dream spot for eclipse viewing there. Yes, Greenland had an online reservation system for eclipse boats to keep as much control as possible around the chaos. Ninety boats were scheduled to be in the general area, most at sea.
We cruised fairly close to a rather large iceberg, making up stories about what we saw. Then we moved on, as Martin told us about a trip years before where the group had asked to pass under the arch of an iceberg, clearly never having seen Titanic or a corporate meme. As he was wrapping up the story about denying their request, we watched the iceberg we had just minutes before traveled next to drop off a big chunk and then rock back and forth, attempting to flip as it tried to find its equilibrium. I am told I should be happy about not having been next to it, but I can’t help but think what a story that would have been—and then just as we talked about the property value of the mermaid pool, the house broke into a duplex. And the second story became the sunken basement. That would be a fun one to tell.

Then, it was time to prepare for the big event. Camera batteries charged, memory cards free, solar filters in place. Amateur photographers (me) hoping for a good single picture. Professional photographers (not me) securing their multiple cameras, lenses, tripods, glasses, and who knows what else. As we waited for the zodiacs, our group began a, rather loud, rendition of “Total Eclipse of the Heart” (also potentially why the polar bears were elusive). This was likely the first, yet not last, instance of a group breaking out into this song at Bear Island. Our zodiacs took us ashore and, much like high school, we each found our spots. The pros had a spot near the water on flat ground, those who just wanted to admire the event settled in small outcroppings off to themselves. Some settled near the pros, figuring their good spot must mean something.
And then there was us, mostly Reindeer, who found a spot halfway up the hill with some rocks on which to perch or recline. None of us were pros, some had cameras, some had phones. There were a few solar filters amongst us. But what we really brought was the humor. The world would have truly loved and likely paid good money for the commentary brought to you by Tash, Lynn and yours truly. Retelling it could never recreate the moment, but I shall endeavor, if only for us to have the intro documented. It all began when Lynn mentioned that perhaps the moon looked a bit like Pac Man, eating the sun. I immediately followed that with “Hi Sun, I’ve come to eat you. Nom, nom, nom.” This led to rousing choruses of “chomp, chomp, chomp.” Hysterical. At least we thought so. As did the Reindeer and Walruses around us. I wish I had recorded that instead of my photos of the eclipse.

For just over two minutes in Greenland, we watched the landscape turn to darkness, heard the birds quiet and felt the temperature drop. We listened to each other express our awe at this tiny moon completely covering the sun. This one perfect event brought this one perfect group together. The universe had a plan that extended far beyond the eclipse, uniting This group for This story. Totality is a truly amazing thing to see. I will forever think of this moment anytime I hear the word eclipse or experience one again. It will never feel the same.
Ship Day Eleven: People That Were Not Us
Today was a(nother) highly anticipated day. We were going to see people. That were not us. It had been questionable throughout the trip if we would be able to make this landing due to weather and timing. But as we were in complete control of the weather, we made it happen. We were not going to miss the chance to do some souvenir shopping. Spoiler alert. There was no souvenir shopping. Good thing we had emptied the shelves (truck bed) at Jan Mayen.
We landed quite early at Ittoffortoormilt, an isolated settlement in the Scoresbysund fjord. Less than 300 people live here so we were adding 1/3 to that number. And we were full of energy. And volume.
The town has very brightly colored houses, purples, greens, red and more. While that made for a beautiful site in August, I can only imagine how it looks in the snow. Although, the sun won’t rise so I am not sure you could see it. I will just have to make do with my mental image. We mostly walked around the town, visiting their museum, admiring their church and hiking (low difficulty) to the cemetery for a view from the top. They had a weather balloon launch, which we were most excited to see. Turns out, a weather balloon launch is somewhat underwhelming. If you want to see one, fill a big balloon with helium and put it right inside your door. Open the door. Check.

They also had some Arctic Sled Dogs, including puppies, clearly in competition with the Arctic Hare for most photographed. Perhaps they could hide the eggs instead. The highlight, though, was Kaffemik. We had waited until the last minute to visit, and we were told the hostess was a bit irritable and the cake was gone. Challenge accepted. The Queen of the town (her husband is the Mayor, but she has the tiara) invites you into her home for coffee and bread. While we shared very little common tongue, (I may have made up their titles), we still had her laughing in minutes and in her tiara within ten. As we left, she yelled “Queen” to us, clearly now a universal compliment. I needed to make them remember us as this was the closest I got to a narwhal as they had a tooth hanging on the wall. Perhaps one day, I will return and the Queen will make me cake and take me to see the narwhals. After all, I am a delight and we were quite unforgettable.
Ship Day Twelve: Dire Island
The trip may have been taking its toll on us by this point as we were not the usual version of our hysterical selves. Instead, we were the grumpy version of our hysterical selves. Lynn, Tash, Alison and I took the zodiac ashore in Romerfjord and set about on a walk. I believe Lynn described this island best as Dire. So of course, Tash, Alison and I then had to support the idea and provide plenty of travel agent type commentary about this landing. It had broken up rocks and hot springs which added an element of smoke to the dreary landscape. It still serves as a hunter’s stop so there was a hammock and plenty of empty beer cans. There were lots of bones, presumably animals and not humans. Alison tried to be impressed with the basalt columns, but I don’t think she could even muster the pleasure. We finally decided to take a selfie so there could be one pretty thing on the island. Grumpy and funny. We really are the complete package.

In need of attitude adjustments, we headed back to the ship to set sail for Iceland. Perhaps that was why we were so glum. But wait. Leo had a surprise for us. Again, thanks to our perfect weather planning, we had the chance for one more Greenlandic stop at a massive tidewater glacier. You had us at glacier.

Ship Day Thirteen: The Day the Weather Died
Turns out there is a limit on how much good weather you can claim for a trip. Had we known that it was only 12 days, we would have gladly traded yesterday’s weather at Dire Island for today.
We had traveled to Nansen Fjord, named for a saucy Norwegian explorer that you should all read up on, and it was both mystical and creepy. I awoke early and headed up to my Deck 7 crew and could only describe the scenery as cinematic. We were in an ice field fjord, sea ice and ice bergs everywhere, bouncing off the boat and a fog had filled in all around us, creating a gorgeous fog bow. We sailed quietly for a long while, as most passengers were just rising. As we passed, massive pieces of ice, the bridge staff on either side of the boat to ensure safe passage, we could hear the ice scraping the side. First declaring we would definitely make room for Jack, we then determined who would be responsible for packing the food and drinks the crew had likely not thought to pack, should we need to abandon ship and take to the lifeboats. Important things like chocolate and wine and whiskey. I claimed the Pringles.

Sadly, the Captain did not share my “what’s the worst that could happen” attitude, and he decided that visibility being what it was and our weather skills diminished, he would turn back. So, the rest of the day was spent on deck, whale and ice watching and card playing in the living room.
That was, until the most anticipated evening of the trip began. It was the night we had been waiting for. It was the night the Monkey-Eating Eagles band would take the stage. This band is made up of the crew and has been playing the Expedition for years. I have seen them perform once in Antarctica and now twice in the Arctic, making them the band I have spent more money to see perform than any other band in the world. Singing and dancing, and then a dance party went well into the night.

Ship Day Fourteen: The Return of the Petting Zoo
We had headed east, across the Denmark Straight enroute to Iceland so we had a full day at sea. After a slow morning, we resurrected the Petting Zoo story and were immediately rewarded with five minkes, then two more, then two more and then a humpback. And as we were admiring that humpback, slightly off in the distance, I heard the distinctive pffft and looked down to see a minke next to our ship. None of us could pivot from the zoomed-out lenses on the humpback to the close-up minke fast enough, so all I got was a blurry photo of some dark water. But that memory is one to keep.

Tomorrow, they would force us to leave the ship, so tonight became a goodbye celebration. Louise enforced the New Country Shot Rule, we relived our favorite Drink of the Day (in addition to the actual Drink of the Day) and then found out we had docked in Keflavik and needed to clear customs tonight. Our sweatshirts had already been taken as part of Project Don’t Touch Their Table and so we exited the boat, passports in hand and whiskey on the breath but bare arms. Reindeer being in love with the camera as we are, of course took a photo at customs, flashing our gang sign. When it was my turn, the agent asked when I was going home. I asked simply, “well, what day is it?” She laughed, handed me my passport and moved on.
Back on board, I attempted to throw my stuff in a suitcase. Despite having donated or given away almost every shirt and several of the pants I brought on the trip, I found I could not get everything back into the same suitcase I had upon arrival. Clearly, it had shrunk. So I gave up and went back to the living room, making packing a Future Kim problem.
Ship Day Fifteen: Past Kim Sucks, But Now I Look Like Her
I awoke today to find we were in fact being removed from the ship. And to make matters worse, I had until 6:30AM to finish packing and get my suitcase into the hallway or risk having to carry it myself. Since I hadn’t done anything resembling lifting a weight in 18 days and I had no idea what was in my suitcase, I thought it would be best to follow this rule. Rather than figure out what mess I had made of the previous evening’s attempt at packing, I simply pulled out another bag and filled it with the leftovers.

While we had to say goodbye to many, including an expedition team that made my heart melt as they flashed the Reindeer sign as our bus pulled away, we still had time with a few. Trae, Louise, and I had booked time at the Blue Lagoon and were so lucky that Tash, Lynn and Alison decided to join us, not just for that, but for dinner too.
We spent an amazing few hours in the lagoon, taking years off our lives with the masks so that we now resemble a much younger version of ourselves, and then taking years out of our savings paying for food and transport in Reykjavik. After the lagoon, we met downtown to see a few sights and crossed paths with 20 people from the trip in less than one hour. Turns out you can’t throw guillemot baby in this town without hitting someone from the trip. Dinner, drinks, more drinks and then it was time for this gal to go to sleep. Fifteen days of sleep deprivation and I could not walk another step. If Trae and I were sharing a room, he would have definitely put me in time-out.
Having started the planning for the 2027 trip, there was nothing left to do except bid my farewells and get one last sleep before the journey home. After all, my brain said I had been away for months with all the Firsts I experienced, and my eyes said I had only been gone for three days with the lack of sunsets. And so, I go on. To the next adventure, carrying the memories of this and so many others and the friendships that continue to span continents and time.
Welcome back.

