Arctic Kingdom expedition leader Thomas Lennartz is in the field and posting photos on our facebook page, check there for more exclusive photo content and periodic updates.
Thomas has this to say about this incredible panoramic photograph -
Sitting at 73°02′11″N 085°09′09″W..(literally at the top of Baffin Island) we are here in Arctic Bay to set out to see the Narwhal and Beluga at the Admiralty Inlet floe edge.
The Inuktitut name for Arctic Bay is Ikpiarjuk which means “the pocket”. This name describes the high hills that surround the almost landlocked bay. To the southeast, the flat-topped King George V Mountain dominates the landscape of the hamlet.
Filmed from base camp at one in the morning, we had just finished dinner when one of our Inuit guides spotted the polar bear in the process of stalking and hunting a seal under the ice. The bear was completely unaware of (or didn’t care about) our presence only a few hundred meters away. This video really gives a sense of the scale of the arctic; the sweeping landscape, the silence of the surroundings, and the unhurried observation of polar bears in their natural environment made possible by our trip logistics.
Speaking of incredible views, don’t miss this other update from our youtube channel, featuring a ballooning adventure over Baffin Island!
Report received from a scouting trip to Akpatok Island, located in the Ungava Bay area of Nunavik (northern Quebec). This location is available on a Private Trip basis, and offers incredible hiking, beautiful scenery, polar bear viewing, as well as the opportunity to see the world’s largest colony of Black Billed Murres, who reside on the island in the hundreds of thousands.
Cliffside of Akpatok Island
The island is ringed in kilometers of solid cliffs, with beach at the foot of those cliffs. This area is where we search for polar bears, who use pockets of remaining snow to cool off during the warm summer months.
Polar bear mother and cubs
This remote location is only accessible by air, but offers fantastic hiking in the deep canyons and river valleys that pierce the flat topped island.
Join us on Facebook for more photos and trip reports like this one, as well as a chance to talk to fellow adventurers and our team members.
I’m so excited to finally see the finished copy of Brüdder Productions’ short film, Anirniq. Created as part of the Parallel Lines competition, the film had to include the following lines as its only dialogue:
What is that?
It’s a Unicorn.
Never seen one up close before.
Beautiful.
Get away, get away.
I’m sorry
The guys at Brüdder did an amazing job with this. Having followed their progress, I thought I knew what to expect with this film, but it’s even cooler and more beautiful than I expected.
The folks over at Brüdder have posted a great video of their encounter with a narwhal on their recent Arctic Kingdom-led expedition to Baffin Island.
It’s a bit shaky (understandable given the cameraman’s cold hands and the fact that the narwhal dove under the kayak!), but I think it really captures something essential about the one-on-whale encounter!
Seattie, one of the Inuit guides we work with, captured by a Brüdder photographer. Photo via Flickr
Yesterday, I talked a bit about the folks over at Brüdder, who recently came up to Baffin Island to work on their short film Anirniq.
One of the fun things for me (since I didn’t get to tag along on the trip) has been catching up on the team’s adventures in Baffin after the fact, via the travelogues posted on the Anirniq website. There are so many great little details about the teams’ experience. Take this video, for example, of the team packing for their trip:
And of course this is just a prelude to the good stuff: The trip itself. The Brüdder folks are still posting accounts of their journey north, but here are some of my favorite highlights so far.
From the air and through the breaking clouds we finally see the mosaic of melting sea ice resembling morning frost on a windshield. I imagine the elusive narwhal making their commute through the dark trails of ocean water below to our awaiting, Arctic film set. They are ready for their close up. Let’s hope we are.
The stewardess makes a hat out of the business section of the newspaper and places it on the head of a curious Inuit boy sitting in the front row. He has stopped fidgeting, intently watching the process. I wonder why he is in the emergency exit row and commissioned with my safety if – in the unlikely event – we plummet into the sea ice and must evacuate to life rafts. I suppose that is because of the Inuit belief that if you fall into the water you drown and so I would assume that theory likely extends to twin-engine aircraft. It is hard to argue that point. I relinquish my fate to the restless, fidgety boy.
Pulled by snow machines in our qamutiks we navigated the ever-changing surface of the floe edge like a game of chutes and ladders – miles and miles of frozen sea stretching across the wide inlet. With each passing week the ice was melting further and large cracks developed, dividing the massive expanse of ice into large sections that would inevitably break off and drift out to sea before melting in the summer months of July and August. To cross, our guides would weave from one shore of the inlet to the next looking for a narrow crossing that we could be safely pulled over. In many cases, the heavy qamutiks would need to be detached and pushed to the edge of the cracks by hand with the towline thrown to the opposite side. The guides would then throttle across the gaps, “skipping” on the exposed ocean water on the wider crevices and then reattaching the sled and heaving it over the cracks. The exposed sea was a mixture of salt and fresh water called halocline. The water below the first few feet could drop as low as -4 degrees Celsius without freezing due to the salt content while the surface water would rest around 0 degrees. The surface of the floe edge was mainly a thin layer of snow that in some places had melted into large, glimmering pools that radiated a fluorescent, aqua blue yet to be represented on any color wheel I had seen.
There are also some great observations about the Arctic Kingdom team. Here’s a description of one of the expedition’s Inuit guides (whose photo adorns the top of this post):
Seattie’s face and demeanor is warm and light-hearted. He is vibrant and full of energy with a keen sense of humor picked up through his broken English. Like most who make their living on the floe edge, he bares the tan line insignia around his eyes from sunglasses. It is incredibly reassuring – a sort of barometer of experience in the Arctic environment.
And here’s Thomas (whose energy, I’d say, is one of his defining characteristics) meeting the team as they arrive in Pond Inlet:
Touch down. The houses and buildings of the small town pepper a ridge overlooking the frozen sea. Thomas, from Arctic Kingdom and our lead guide for the trip is there to greet us on the dirt runway. He is the perfect mold of an adventure guide: coated in weeks of sun that you would generally find on an avid spring skier or someone who has been living on the sea ice for a month. He is energetic and friendly but in a passive, laid back matter. Although his eyes are red and blood shot they reflect the intrigue, vim and vigor of what we hope to experience in the week to come. He seems to be here because he wants to, not because he has to.
I could pull quotes for days, but you get the idea. And really, the best way to get this story is straight from the source.
As promised, here is the video footage of the airplane recovery operation in Queen Maude Land, Antarctica that Arctic Kingdom collaborated on with Katabatic Consulting and Kenn Borek Air. I love this video, because it really gives a sense of the scope of the operation, which involved rescuing, repairing and flying a downed plane from its location on a remote Antarctic plateau 3,300 meters above sea level.
Arctic Kingdom provided the camp infrastructure, facilitating Katabatic’s onsite repair and salvage operation and providing the necessary equipment for a successful outcome.
Last month, Thomas was expedition leader exploratory expedition up to Grise Ford, where Arctic Kingdom hopes to offer expeditions in the very near future.
The Northern News Service Online has a story up about Oolateeteh Iqaluk, the Resolute resident who served as lead guide on the expedition.
Iqaluk was the last guide to lead a group from Resolute to Grise ford, six years ago, making him the best person to lead our expedition.
“The most challenging part of the trip was the weather,” said Iqaluk, who said the first three days of the trip were very windy with whiteouts.
For three days, the group was weathered in and covered little ground. Iqaluk said the weather did not clear until they reached the end of Ellesmere Island. The whiteouts made the animal tracks hard to see on the snow and Iqaluk said it was hard to tell where the animals were and they were lucky to see some polar bears and muskox. On April 20, they arrived in Grise Fiord after travelling 720 kilometres.
Following a few days rest, the group, along with Iqaluk’s 22-year-old nephew Harry Iqaluk and several of the company’s clients, left Grise Fiord for Resolute on April 24. For the five days Lennartz said they had beautiful weather. The group was fortunate enough to see many polar bears and muskox daily.
By using local knowledge from their guides and hunters in Grise Fiord, the group made it back to Resolute on April 28 after traveling 600 kilometres
As I recently have just returned from the floe edge, I am going through the literally thousands of photos..and I already want to go back again It’s amazing how the Arctic calls one to come back. I mean look at this photo ..it’s the one I like to call ‘the twin iceberg photo’. It is one of hundreds of icebergs we see on expeditions, but the meltwater, and the the sheer size of them was impressive and …well.. beautiful.
The Twin Icebergs
For those that have never been to the arctic, most, probably I would say rarely even think about it. Yes, it’s up there on the news – it is melting, the polar bear is endangered, and the news can go on…but few probably have thought about ‘seeing’ the arctic in person.
When I meet people for the first time and they find out that I work for Arctic Kingdom and head up to the Arctic to lead expeditions and animal photography trips the reactions range from: “Wow that’s cool!” to…” oh.. really.. Why do you go?Isn’t it …freezing cold? What’s there to see?” The latter reaction is typically quickly changed once they see the Arctic Kingdom gallery of images - there obviously is much to see and over the next few months, I’ll be posting some of my favourite pictures like this one…
Base Camp Fly By
taken on Arctic Kingdom expeditions over the last 10 years (wow..has it been that long already!) and the story that surrounded those pictures
TheArctic is one of those places that you either love it, or you haven’t been there. I am still asked why I go year after year – I mean, once you’ve been there once haven’t you seen it enough? I reflected on this recently as to why I love the Arctic – the ice, the snow, the animals and the many Inuit friends. For me, the primary draw that fuels the passion, that drives me to return and also to show those around me what the Arctic is really all about…is most definitely the animals – especially the whales .
I am going to post an article below I wrote for a dive magazine back in 2002 after my first expedition to the Admiralty Inlet floe edge out of Arctic Bay. I wrote this after my first time ever having swam with beluga and narwhal… and after re-reading it just now.. memories come flooding back..and the Arctic calls again. Without further adoo.. here is that article titled “Dancing with Beluga”
Belugas "Dancing" with the photographer
The Beluga whale and I stare deep into each others eye’s – the Beluga upside down, facing the surface of the Arctic Ocean craning her neck to examine me with a seemingly permanent smile, and me, floating face down, with only a few feet of crystal clear icy water separating us. I float in the water, breathing gently through my snorkel, totally mesmerized by the dark pools of brown that make up the Beluga’s eyes – a stark contrast to her milky white body. I am oblivious to everything except the surreal world below me. Any direction I face, I see pods of white Beluga and charcoal speckled narwhal whales swimming toward me from the black depths below – all with necks angled towards me in unison. All I can hear, aside from my breathing, are their canary-like songs enveloping me from all sides – a virtual orchestra of clicks, whistles and flute-like notes. All I can feel is the icy arctic water pressing tightly against my drysuit. My lips are numb from the cold, but I don’t care, this is a beautiful and magical world unlike any I’ve ever experienced before and I never want this to end.
Beluga pod coming to fill the dance card
As I turn away from my Beluga to look at the other 30 face-up Belugas surrounding her, she turns and follows. With a kick of my right fin, I turn left and she follows my lead. I kick right, and she mirrors my move. I think to myself, “I’m dancing with a Beluga!” and from the depths of my soul, I let out an uninhibited laugh through my snorkel…a laugh of pure joy and exhilaration of having connected one to one with one of nature’s most wonderful animals. I had never laughed so freely and spontaneously before until that moment.
From the surface looking down at the belugas...who are also looking up
I want to share the moment with the other expedition members and reluctantly break my gaze with my Beluga, and lift my head to the surface. I squint in the sudden brightness of the arctic daylight and scan the blue mirror-like surface of the water for the others. A chuckle of laughter 20 feet away comes from Graham Dickson the expedition leader – snorkeling face down in the water and lazily kicking his fins. A little further over, Nell Battye from England makes cooing and chirping noises through her snorkel to answer back to the Belugas “talking” to her. I turn to the floe edge and see Paul Jackson an Australian adventurer sitting by the ice edge in a camping chair, head back, eyes closed, legs outstretched, and arms folded, basking in the warm spring arctic sun listening to the symphony of whales through his hydrophone.
I decide there’s no need to share my experience – we each have our own – and put my head back under and enter the world of the Beluga whale once again.
Arctic Kingdom has been visiting the many floe edges of the north Baffin Island area since 2001. As an expedition leader since 2002, no matter how many times I go to the floe edge for the spring whale migration, there is always something new or an experience to be had that I could never have expected. This years expedition was no exception! There were some amazing moments and it was a challenge to condense them into only 10..or maybe 11. Here are my top 10 moments.. (not in any particular order)
Walrus playing in ice near the Arctic Kingdom base camp
1.Walrus appearing right in front of our base camp and hanging out for an hour.
We had just finished an ice dive and were hanging around the dive tent about 3 meters from the ice floe edge, when a female walrus surfaced and raised her head at least half a meter over the ice edge. At first we thought it was a seal and almost turned away (since we see seals so often it becomes almost too common) but the large white tusks quickly told us it was a walrus. She would gracefully peer at us from in between pieces of pack ice by raising her head way out of the water. Then slip gently back down under water reappearing only a few minutes later in pool of water only a few meters away. She was a young female, with very white tusks.
Narwhal takes a deep breath and dives below the floe edge
2.Hearing the exhale of the narwhals breath before you can see it
The silence of the Arctic gently envelops you and even the slightest of sounds, from the call of a bird, or in this case, the whooosh sound of a narwhal taking a deep breathe can be hear from far away. There is a moment of exhilaration when you hear that tell tale whoosh and scan the mirror smooth surface for the dark hump that is the back of narwhal. As one watches, the mirror is broken by a surfacing pod of narwhals – one tusk, then two, then another and 5 narwhals rest, breathing deep, whoooosh, only meters away.
Narwhal approaches Arctic Kingdom group in inflatable boat
3.Sitting in a boat and having a narwhal approach within 2 meters out of curiosity
Having an animal, approach on their own volition, out of their own curiosity and inquisitiveness is the moment we all come here for. In this case, the narwhal would slowly swim towards the grey inflatable boat outfitted with an electric motor. All expedition members could do was to hold their breaths and enjoy the moment!
Kayaking in the early morning with the Narwhal
4. Kayaking under the midnight sun on mirror smooth water between floating ice with Narwhal all around us
It was 5am and the narwhal were playing out in the open water just beyond our floe edge base camp. We launched the kayaks and quietly floated among the narwhal. With clear blue skies above us, an unrippled surface of dark blue water, and the groans of the narwhal surrounding us, it was an amazing moment.
Polar Bear stretching on pack ice just 30m from base camp at 2am
5. Watching a polar bear stretch, lounge on the floating pack ice at 2am just outside our base camp
Polar bears are quite common on the floe edge and we came across quite a few – sometimes they would wander out from the pack ice, or along the floe edge looking for seal, or other times we would come across them while snowmobiling across the ice. One special polar bear encounter was just outside our base camp. A polar bear sentry spotted a polar bear approaching our camp from the pack ice that had been pushed against the floe edge a few days earlier. Being only 40 meters away, at 2am, with the sun low in the sky casting long shadows and a soft yellow light, we watched this polar bear lounging on a flat piece of ice. Completely oblivioius to us, he would lie on his stomache, rest his large head on his forelegs, stretch his back legs behind, sit up, sniff around, lie on his back and put his paws in the air. It was almost like he put on a show just for us before a second polar bear came to interrupt his candidness. The two them sniffed each other and continued walking through the pack ice in opposite directions.
Having breakfast under the morning sun
6. Eating breakfast outside in t-shirts
The weather was extremely warm at the floe edge – with many days waking up almost baking in our double walled Arctic tents. The temperatures would be around 5 degrees, but without wind and having cloudless skies we would be extremely warm. On one such day we decided to enjoy our breakfast outside of the dining tent and under the big blue sky with the backdrop of Baffin Island behind us, Bylot Island infront, all the while watching the narwhal who had just started feeding again. Who knew this was the Arctic!
Diving amongst the pack ice off the floe edge
7. Ice diving amongst the pack ice – huge cathedrals of ice, glowing turquoise blue
Although not everyone is a diver who comes on an Arctic Kingdom Expeditions, the ice diving experience augments the ice experience. Ice diving through the pack ice was simply stunning. With almost 300′ (100m) visibility, we could see straight down to the bottom of the floating ice, at times almost 90′ deep. Going deep though isn’t required as we would spend most of the dive at 30′ while making our way between spires of glowing blue and white ice columns, ledges, caves and caverns. The myriad of shapes and rounded ice created a world unlike anything one can imagine. Here is one of my favourite pictures. I’ll be blogging more at a later date specifically on ice diving in the arctic so stay tuned!
Seaweed covered Inuit harpoon found on the sea floor 30' below the crack
8. Finding a 50 year old harpoon on the ocean floor while diving in a crack near shore
Moving away from the floe edge, and heading to a crack that originates from a point of land off of Bylot Island, we dove through a crack to film the bottom life of the Arctic sea floor. Sponges, starfish, sea anemone, sea urchins, jelly fish and more. At the end of a 30 min dive, I was just about to surface when I spotted what I though was a Narwhal tusk at first lying on the bottom. I pulled it out of the seaweed and headed back to the crack 30′ above my head and surfaced. Arctic Kingdom’s senior Inuit guide identified it as a harpoon from the 1960′s. As this is a common hunting area, it’s quite possible the hunter lost the harpoon testing the ice thickness at the very crack we were diving at. That’s what I love about diving and finding lost items – the past and present meld together.
Having glacier water tea.
9. Making a tea from glacier water at the base of 300′ (100m) waterfall
On the way back to Pond Inlet at the end of the floe edge season, the land temperatures have risen as well and the glaciers on Bylot island are beginning to melt. The rivers begin to flow and one such river ends at a 300′ (100m) stepped waterfall and empties into the inlet. We took our teapot and filled it from the pool at the base of the waterfall. The subsequent tea we had was probably one of the best I’ve had!
Arctic Kingdom members in the mouth of the icicle laden ice cave
10. Icicles found in a glacier ice cave
On the way to the floe edge, on the north side of Baffin Island is a glacier that calves in such a way that there is a permanent shallow ice cave at its base. The melt water freezes and has formed many icicles that make the ice cave appear to be toothed.
11. Eating delicious country food with our Inuit guides – Caribou, Seal, Goose stews and Arctic Char
…and just one more… I couldn’t narrow it down to ten as being on the floe edge with our Inuit guides makes the experience a cultural one as well. Traditional food prepared by Arctic Kingdom’s guides are always a highlight of our culinary experience. Thanks guys!
More information on Arctic Kingdom floe expeditions can be found here: