A mooring, ice stations and the sun

This article is part of the series “2026-10: Fram Strait cruise KPH”.

16 October

The polar bear is gone. The dinner has been eaten. Now it is time to recover F12, another mooring which is underwater and has measured a variety of values for 14 months. The ship’s echo sounder has already located it, so it has “only” to be released from the ground. There is only one issue – there is a lot of ice and to recover the mooring, open water is needed. The helmsman has already circled the icebreaker several times to create an ice-free area. When the mooring is finally released, the air-filled buoy pops up in the water, just two metres away from the searchlight. Chapeau! I mentioned in the last article the joint effort that is needed to get such a mooring with more than 1800 metres of Kevlar cable equipped with instruments from the sea onto the ship.

17 October

When there is ice, it’s an opportunity for an ice station. Again, this is teamwork. Besides the scientists on the ice, you need a polar bear guard with a rifle on the ice and three bridge watches on the bridge on deck 8 that are constantly observing the surroundings for polar bears, cracks in the ice, fog coming up, and other potential dangers. I handle the communication between the bridge and the team on the ice, and luckily nothing happens. The only thing I have to do is to keep track of the people who are on the ice.

There are my things: A bottle of water, my own binoculars (I have had them for more than 40 years), a VHF radio for communication and a notebook with a ballpen for taking notes.

I haven’t seen the sun for days, but now, while I am taking the second shift, the sun is rising from a low layer of clouds on the horizon. I can see its reflections in the windows on the other side of the bridge while the ice team works in the ship’s shadow.

For the rest of the day, I do computer work but interrupt it several times just to go outside and take some photos from the helicopter deck, which is on deck 6 at the bow of the ship. You never know how long the good weather will last. I am there while the sun is shining, I am watching the sllloooowww sunset, and I am there in the evening, when it is the ship that is illuminating the ice.

I am already in bed when I see a post in our group chat mentioning Jupiter and Mars. I put my down clothes over my pyjama, put the helmet on my head and go out onto the “helideck” one last time for the day. The night is starry and there they are: Both Jupiter and Mars near the horizon, accompanied by many stars. But there are also big spotlights, which make the view somehow special. The stars are slightly out of focus, but I am showing a photo nevertheless.

18 October

Another day – another ice station. I will do the first bridge watch and then go onto the ice myself to fly a drone. Around 10 o’clock, the team enters the ice.

Two things are certain on an expedition with the icebreaker Kronprins Haakon. All meals are on time. Everything else may and will change. This time, it is a crack in the ice that I observe. I inform the team on the ice. I have to give several updates, because more and more cracks appear. After less than half an hour, both the team and their equipment are safely back on board, and the ice station is aborted. Between the first and the last of the following photos lie 18 minutes.

After lunch – the second try. I may join the team in the beginning, because, although the conditions for drone flying are not the best (mediocre visibility, low temperatures, high humidity), the winds will increase in the afternoon. It’s now, or never.

Fifteen minutes later, I am on the sea ice. At first, I let the drone fly at an altitude of only 2-3 metres for two minutes. I land it and check the propellers. Are they free and able to move? Is there visible icing? What about the battery? Luckily, everything looks fine. With a new battery I lift the drone up to 65 metres to fly a zigzag pattern to get a mosaic of photos to be stitched together later. The flying itself works pretty well, although I get some wind warnings on the display of my remote control. I have some minor issues with the camera gimbal and take another flight to get some backup photos. At the very end I take a snapshot of our icebreaker.

And a selfie or two. I am wearing a survival suit and a helmet from the Norwegian Polar Institute, a woollen sweater I bought in Longyearbyen two years ago and a balaclava knitted by my friend Christine.

When I have finished, I leave the sea ice. After redressing and a small break I take another bridge watch. Nothing happens, and so it should be. The exciting part comes thereafter. Are the photos – 126 in total – suitable for an orthomosaic? I mean, the single shots look like this:

An then, the relief: WebODM, the software successfully stitches together the photos.

Why does the image has this odd angle? Because it contains spatial data, so that it can be used in GIS systems. It is therefore aligned north. Here is a cropped version aligned parallel to the ship:

Will there be another ice station? I’m pretty sure. Probably not tomorrow, when we expect another strong gale, with wind speeds above 20 m/s. So I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, apart from one thing: all meals will be on time.

A late summer overnight stay at Bjuröklubb

Thursday afternoon. It is just before the bus stop that I discover the first fly agarics of the year. I have walked about 3.3 km from our home in Obbola to the nearest bus stop. From here it’s half an hour’s bus journey to Norrlands universitetssjukhus, the hospital where I meet Annika.

We take her car, heading north to a well-known place: Bjuröklubb. The first time I went there was 25 April 2010, just three days after I moved to Sweden. The last time I was there was with Annika on 28 June 2024, when we rented the cabin Spanarstugan for an overnight stay.

Since we both have Friday off and the weather forecast looked promising, we have hired the cabin again at very short notice. Luckily it was free. After a 120-km drive, we arrive there, carry our things up the last 250 metres on foot and there we are again: at one of my favourite places, having the large cabin for ourselves and everything we need for a tasty outdoor dinner.

After dinner we go up the hill to the lighthouse Bjuröklubbs fyr which, despite its age, is still active. From here you have a unique view of the sea and, weather permitting, beautiful sunsets.

As the sun sinks lower and lower, the light gets warmer and warmer and it takes a while for the sun to set behind the distant, flat hills in the north.

An hour later it has become darker and the stars are out. The pine trees appear as black silhouettes and the lighthouse has started its work.

The next morning the weather is still clear. A small sailing boat is already out at 6 o’clock. Where does it come from, and where is it heading?

Today is Annika’s and my sixth wedding anniversary and I’m not only blessed to have Annika as my wife, but also glad that we are here together and the weather is nice and the hares are running and the birds are chirping and the butterflies are fluttering around and that we can even have breakfast outside in the sun. But before that: New day – new photos!

After lunch, Annika is picking berries while I am walking and climbing to the old lighthouse Bjuröklubb Nord Östra, an abandoned leading light situated by the sea.

I unscrew a hook that locks the metal door, open it and peek in. While the windows still retain their colours, the light source is long gone.

On my way back I meet Annika in the sun. She is still collecting blueberries. Although the warmth of the sun makes it feel like a summer day the bright red leaves on the blueberry bushes show that autumn is near.

Meanwhile, the café has opened. Time to buy some ice cream. After I have finished mine, I try to take photos of the many, many butterflies. Anyway, that’s not easy because I left my big Nikon camera at home and my small Sony camera is a bit picky when it comes to focussing on such subjects. These are the best shots: European peacock (Aglais io) – painted lady (Vanessa cardui) – small tortoiseshell (Aglais urticae) – red admiral (Vanessa atalanta).

A day and half a night in Bergen

28 May – I am sitting on a plane to Bergen, Tromsø lies behind. Finally the layer of clouds has opened and Vestlandet – Western Norways reveals itself with vast glaciers, mountain ranges, fjords, forests, archipelagos and the open sea.

The reason I am in Bergen is sea ice in the Arctic. On board the ice-breaking research vessel Kronprins Haakon there is a special radar used for navigation through sea ice. Researcher Polona Itkin wants to store this data for scientific purposes. The companies Sea-Hawk Navigation AS and dspnor AS are responsible for the hardware, I handle the software to read and store the data. And since these companies are in Bergen and have a working setup including a radar on the roof, I am working there for two days. The only work-related detail I will mention is this: the data volume to be stored is immense and can exceed 2 TB a day. Quite a challenge.

At 16:00 I finish work. Since the weather is warm and sunny, I decide to walk to the hotel in the centre of Bergen on the other side of Puddefjorden. Let’s go down the concrete ramp and start our tour. First, I walk through an industrial area …

… but then the surroundings change revealing marinas, parks and older wooden houses.

I cross the Damsgårdssundet and head towards the centre. A myriad of small alleys, footpaths and stairs make me ignore the polite navigation of Google Maps and stroll around, enjoying the town in the sun.

I don’t want to own this car, but I envy the driver’s parking skills.

But of course Bergen is an evolving city, not a museum and a lot of contemporary architecture is found there too. But sometimes the glassy facades reflect the older world.

From there it is not long to Vågen, the central harbour bay with a view of the historic quarter Bryggen.

I check in at the hotel and leave again straight away, first to get some food (Pasha – Peruvian food – not cheap but delicious) and then to take Fløibanen, a 848-metre-long funicular railway that leads up to the mountain of Fløyen (320 m).

Of course I could have walked up the 302-metre ascent, but I have a plan: I want to walk to the mountain of Ulriken (643 m), the highest of De syv fjell that surround the city centre of Bergen. The route is between 13 and 15 km long and leads through hilly terrain. From there I want to take the cable car down and the last one leaves at 23:00. So I don’t have the whole day, just a long evening.

At 18:45 I start my tour. First, I cross a small, but surprisingly dense forest then I follow the wide hiking trail.

When I approach the mountain Rundemanen with its tall radio mast, the trail branches into many paths leading in different directions. I ask for directions twice and get it – together with the warning that it is a long hike. The younger women told me it would take four hours from here, another woman said it would take her six hours. I decide to walk a bit faster and see where I am after two hours. I could still turn back then.

Now the trail looks more like a mountain trail. Smaller, steeper, rougher and sometimes very wet. Normally I walk with rubber boots but on this journey I only have an old pair of low shoes, so I try to avoid all the wet patches walking around them or stepping onto the stones.

I pass the lake Øvre Jordalsvatnet, use the stone causeway to cross the small stream that transports water to the lower lake Tarlebøvatnet. My planned destination, the TV tower near Ulriken, can already be seen.

Now the trail is excellently marked by large square cairns with a sign “←Fløyen, /Ulriken→“. It is easy to follow them. I try to walk at least 4 km/h, ideally 4.5 to catch the cable car. At 20:30 I reach one of the few signposts with distances. I’m happy, because I made more than half the distance in one hour, forty-five minutes. Decision made: I carry on.

And on I go across the Vidden. Sometimes the point of interest is nearby, such as the tube with the first aid equipment including a stretcher. Sometimes it is far away, such as the snowy mountains in the east. Will I see snow here as well?

And there it is: one of the two patches of snow on the Vidden plateau.

Slowly the sun is setting and the light gets warmer. I walk against the sun and have to protect my eyes with one hand when the path descends steeply into one of the valley cuts. But I’m sure I’ll arrive in time.

I spot some cabins, first a small red one then a larger one. When I researched this while writing, I found out that this is Turnerhytten, a DNT cabin with thirty beds. I think that when I plan a trip to Bergen again, I should stay there rather in some hotel in the centre.

I decide not to climb to the top of Ulriken but to go straight to the cable car station. I’m tired and exhausted because my only rests were to take photos and once to put on a jacket. I follow the signs to the station, take another photo, one of the TV tower, buy a ticket at the ticket machine and two minutes later I am in the cable car that leads me down. It is 22:30, so the hike – 14½ km long – took me 3¾ hours.

From the descending cable car I watch the sunset …Sunset over Bergen

… then I’m in town again. It is five more kilometres to my hotel, so I take a bus (the wrong one), a tram, and another bus. At 23:15 I am in my hotel room.

Today I walked around 25 kilometres in total and now I only want to take a shower and fall into bed and sleep until breakfast at 7:00 the next morning.

The sunset was too early

Today we had another clear morning with a temperature of -23 °C and not a single cloud. According to SMHI and The Photographer’s Ephemeris sunrise at our place in Obbola was at 07:32 today. While I was still walking on the sea ice to have a better view of the sunrise the sun already appeared – three minutes too early. The reason for this is atmospheric refraction due to an inversion above the ice that bends the light and so “lifts up” objects in the distance.

To the right in the photo: The lighthouse Storbränningen, which I visited two days ago. It is about 4 km away. I could also spot the lighthouse Väktaren – 7 km away – although the distance to the horizon is technically only 4.5 km. I can even still see some construction far, far away on a bearing of 140° but I haven’t worked out what it is. Finland perhaps … ?

From inland to coast – a cold car ride

Yesterday morning, when I woke up I first checked the thermometer in the kitchen. It showed -27 °C.

I was in Jokkmokk to visit my friend Sascha and the Jokkmokk winter market. Would my car start when it’s that cold? After a coffee Sascha, his dog Roxy, and I went to the huge car park behind the railway line where my Suzuki had been parked the last two days. To my relief it started without any issues and even scraping ice off the car didn’t take as long as expected.

Farewell my friends – off I go.

The day was exceptionally beautiful and cold. The car thermometer went down to -29 °C and then stayed around -25 °C for the next hour. Should I switch to the Hägglunds that was parked beside the E45? Probably not the best idea with a distance of around 400 km ahead.

At half past eight, the sun rose. I parked my car and walked to a frozen lake nearby to take some photos. Was that where I froze my nose? It still itches a bit today.

Because of the cold weather in the last weeks the frost and snow on the trees has not melted and often I pulled into a lay-by to take more pictures. The small side roads were white with snow and looked absurdly beautiful.

I started to get hungry and stopped at the small shop in Kåbdalis, where I bought a kanelbulle that was still hot from the oven.

I continued my trip south and crossed the river Piteälven, which was mostly open. And so was the river Skellefteälven, which I crossed three hours later.

The sun sank lower and lower. When I arrived in Obbola at five in the afternoon it has become dark.

Today in Obbola the winter looked very different from the forest-dominated inland. The Baltic Sea has frozen due to the cold winter temperatures and if the icebreakers would not keep open channels for commercial seafaring you could walk the 45 km to Finland. I was on the ice as well, but only for a walk along the coast. I like the snowy forest, but I adore the sea ice!

Soldagen 2026

Although the sun has been above the horizon in Tromsø since 15 January, it always takes some days until it rises above the mountains south of the island. Today was the “official” soldagen, the “sun day” when the sun returns to Tromsø.

The first photos, however, I took today between 5:00 and 5:30. There was polar light all over the sky but when I reached a good spot it had already weakened. At least I took a photo of the trees covered in hoar frost – the result of a very foggy night two nights earlier.

Before lunchtime, I took an hour off and took the bus to Telegrafbukta in the southern part of Tromsøya.  It is a good spot to welcome the sun after two months of absence. When I reached the beach I could already see the sunlit snowy mountains in the north. What a beauty!

I joined some winter swimmers and took a dip in the sea. Water temperature 3.9 °C and sorry—no photos. The sun had vanished behind a mountain but luckily came back and stayed for a while. That’s always a special moment and I was amongst hundreds of other people celebrating this hour of resurgence.

I look very overdressed with this heavy down parka considering it was only -6 °C, but I like to have it extra warm after a winter bath when waiting for the bus back to work.

With the sun, the days get longer and longer and even shortly before 16:00 the western sky was still glowing in warm colours. Fifteen minutes later I saw another aurora between the frosted trees.

Unfortunately the last photo is out of focus. When I realised it the aurora had already almost disappeared again. Often you have to be quick to take pictures of the northern lights.

 

 

End of polar night in Tromsø

Now the time of the polar night has ended in Tromsø. The sun rises above the horizon, though not above the mountains yet to be seen in town. This will take some other days.

Crisp and clear winter

After ten centimetres of snowfall, the sky cleared during the night and temperatures dropped. I woke up at one o’clock simply to see the full moon with a halo and Jupiter nearby. I resisted the urge to go back to bed and went outside to take a photo. What a beautiful sight, especially in combination with the wintry coast.

I also took some photos of the snow and the ice at the coast tonight. Nine hours later the sun managed to climb above the cloud layer that had gathered on the open sea. Time to take a photo of the same scene again.

I guess this is my favourite combination of winter weather: first snowfall and wind, then a clear sky and cold air. I took two other pictures from the same place. You can see the sunlit ice fog on the horizon, which forms when very cold air meets the open sea.

At noon my wife Annika and I took a promenade to the beach Vitskärsudden. The sea was still open, but a layer of ice had begun to form along the beach. The small harbour on the other side of the breakwater was covered with ice floes. When the sun is low ice and snow in the shadow often look blue, while in the sun they look orange.

13:52 – fifteen minutes before sunset – the landscape became even more colourful. We were back at our house in Obbola and I took some photos through the windows of the winter garden that were covered with frost. The temperature had dropped to -16 °C.

Now it is 17:37 and I sit writing this blog article. The temperature is now -20.4 °C. When you are outside at minus twenty degrees and inhale through your nose it tickles, because your nose hairs freeze. If you think that is cold, in Gielas in the Swedish mountains -40.7 °C were measured at 10 o’clock.

Tomorrow I will travel back to Tromsø. Then it will be a while before I see the sun again, as the polar night lasts until 15 January. It will also be less cold, but more snowy. At the moment there are 67 cm of snow there. And the great thing: winter has just begun!

 

 

 

Low water level in Obbola

On the evening of 23 December, it got colder and frost patterns formed on the windows of the unheated winter garden.

It takes some effort to cross the new layer of ice in the bay when my wife Annika and I go kayaking on the morning of Christmas Eve, but we manage and most of the sea is free of ice.

Two days later – on 26 December – the situation has changed. It has become much warmer – up to +7 °C – and the ice is gone.

Yesterday – on 29 December – the water is gone as well, maybe caused by the storm Johannes that crossed Sweden two days before.

Today I have a day off and used the sunny weather to take a long stroll by the coast. The water level is even lower at –66 cm, so I walk part of my route in the Baltic Sea. Air temperature is around -8 °C and so you can see ice on the sea and on land, as well as huge fields of boulders that normally are underwater. Some photos from this morning:

Larger parts of the shallow bay Nagelhamnsviken by the camping ground Fläse have completely fallen dry. That looks pretty strange, when you know how it normally looks like.

The only thing we do not have at all in Obbola is any snow, but it seems to be a matter of days before it snows. And Tromsø – I’ll travel there at the end of the week – has 60 cm of snow right now.

A winter sunrise

My “work home” in Tromsø is about 340 kilometres north of the Arctic Circle, and this winter the polar night lasts from 27 November to 15 January. It’s always something special to be south of the Arctic Circle at this time of year, where you can actually see the sun.

Today I walked down to the coast near our house in Obbola to watch the sunrise. Yes, people of Tromsø—the sun is still out there!