Kongsfjorden Oct 29 2026

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

29 October

Yesterday we were on the open sea; last night we approached the coast of Svalbard. When I wake up, our position is 79° 2′ N / 10° 41′ E, about 15 km north of the northern tip of the island Prins Karls Forland. I can see the mountains, not through the scuttle (my cabin has none) but on channel 303 of the ship’s TV system.

When I go out right after breakfast, everything is foggy, but two hours later it has cleared up and for the first time in more than two weeks I see land again.

After lunch we have already taken the three westernmost CTD casts of our planned Kongsfjorden transect. Now we are heading east into the fjord. I’ve never been here before and I’m happy that the weather is clear. So I stand on the helicopter deck as I have done countless times before, but this time I am not alone. Most of the other cruise participants and some of the crew are standing outside enjoying the views of this extraordinary landscape, too.

To the right in the south lies Ny-Ålesund, a settlement that provides facilities for research activities to 19 institutions, among others the Norwegian Polar Institute.

Further and further east we go. We seem to skip a CTD station or two. Or all? It turns out that we first go all the way east to the glacier front of the glacier Kronebreen to use and enjoy the daylight and then do the CTD casts back west thereafter. For about two hours I stand outside and take one photo after the other. The others also take pictures with everything between a mobile phone and a large system camera. I use my Nikon D750 and three lenses – 24–70 mm, 70–200 mm, and 150–600 mm.

I am happy to experience this arctic landscape today, but I am also sad. I know that the human-caused climate change will change these landscapes drastically and that I probably belong to one of the last generations that can see glaciers calving into the fjords of Svalbard.

At around 2 o’clock we have reached our easternmost position. According to the ship’s navigational system we are south of the mountain Colletthøgda. According to the map service TopoSvalbard there is no open water south of Colletthøgda but the glacier Kronebreen. I’m afraid, the ship’s navigation system is right and the glacier has retreated a lot. The change has long begun.

I take some pictures in the early afternoon as well. The next photos are taken between 14:45 and 15:30 and you can see how dark it already is. The sun will not rise here before mid-February next year.

Around 19:50 – I am about to lose a card game – our cruise leader comes into the day room. She tells us that she has spotted a fog bow. Again I go out onto the helicopter deck – and it is still there. A flat, pale bow with the moon as a light source. I have seen a fog bow in daylight on another cruise two years ago, but never a lunar fog bow before. Pretty cool! Thank you, L.!

Daily weather changes and another ice station Oct 21 2026

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

18 October

Oh, what lovely weather we have on the ice station. After I have done my job, I take the opportunity to take a photo from the icebreaker Kronprins Haakon by drone.

Ice Station on the starboard side of RV Kronprins Haakon

That was 13:00. Six hours later, the weather has changed. It is snowing and the crosswind on the helicopter deck is so massive that I do not dare to step out more than one metre. I take a shot to the front and a very blurred selfie and go inside again.

19 October

As predicted, the weather has become worse. When I am on the deck again after lunch, wind speeds have increased to something between 22 m/s and 28 m/s and the temperature has dropped to -8 °C. So I take the selfie in the wind-protected hangar.

But I am in a luxury position. Most of my work here is computer work, done in the heated Conference Work Room. Others have a much tougher job. They are recovering a mooring. Although the cable is one of the shorter ones, it takes around two hours until the mooring is recovered, because the elements keeps tangling up the cable. This is outside work on deck 3, with overalls, helmets, balaclavas and goggles in storm conditions and wind chills below -20 °C. So, it’s not me who should complain about the weather.

Later in the evening, the weather becomes even more severe, with wind gusts above 30 m/s and temperatures dropping below -10 °C. A very good time to stay inside even when taking photos. So I take photos through the windows from the bridge. On the starboard side, the storm batters the ship with snow. On the port side, the snow swirls in all possible directions.

Snow storm in the dark – seen from the bridge

20 October

The next morning, the weather has changed again, this time for the better. It has become colder, with temperatures of -13 °C, but the storm is gone and so has the snowfall.

An ice station is planned. I will join it later, when the wind has decreased even more and it is a bit brighter outside. Although our position is -9.5° W, our ship time is Norwegian time and so sunrise is around noon. Around 10 o’clock, I stand on the ice with the drone I intend to fly. Will it work when it is still dawn?

The drone I use belongs to the Norwegian Polar Institute

Yes – it works! The ship provides a lot of light that illuminates the ice. Not only for working but also for the team on the bridge that is looking for polar bears. While their job is harder at dawn, my drone flies well, although it detects obstacles in the air that are not there.

When the sun finally rises, it is pretty spectacular. In high latitudes, it seems more to roll over the horizon than to lift up.

And the colours are incredible. The snow-covered ice floe we are in shows many colours but not white.

After lunch, the ice station is continued and have the opportunity for another flight. Some shots from the side:

Then I stayed outside to learn a bit about the calibration of the GEM2, an electromagnetic instrument that is used for measuring the thickness of snow and ice.

However, I do not fly the drone for leisure but to make orthophotos that show the ice situation from above. For that, I have to take many pictures and then – back on the ship – use both traditional image editing and special software to stitch the images together. The morning orthophoto was stitched together from 125 images, the afternoon one from 255 images. That took about an hour of processing on a fast computer.

Especially the latter photo has a good image resolution. Do you see the scientists out there with the GEM2 on a pulka sled in the photo below? It is taken from the orthophoto above.

The next day another ice station is planned.

21 October

… but never set up. First the visibility was too poor and then it was too windy. I couldn’t have flown a drone anyhow because first it was snowing and then, with rising temperatures, it was raining. So a lot of other work was done instead.

So – another ice station tomorrow? Actually, that’s planned. Tomorrow I’ll know a bit more.

A mooring, ice stations and the sun Oct 18 2026

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.

Ice on the Fram Strait, October 2026 III

Ice on the Fram Strait, October 2026 VII

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:

Preview of the drone photos in Lightroom

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.

Into the ice, into the storm Oct 16 2026

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

14 October

After encountering a small ice field in the morning, we reach the marginal ice zone. So it looks like round 16:00:

Less than an hour later, it looks like this:

At six o’clock, people are standing on the bridge, peeking into the snowfall, driven by the increasing wind. A mooring is about to be recovered. It has been collecting data for more than a year, and now its release mechanism will be triggered by a so-called hydrophone, allowing the air-filled orange buoys to float to the surface and making the mooring visible. Then it has to be located visually so that it can be towed onto the ship. Not easy, when it looks like this.

The buoy is spotted, and now the long cable, equipped with instruments at different depths, is pulled onto the ship. Not easy, because ice floes drift along and carry the cable with them, bringing them close to the ship, until the cable is released. A new version of ice fishing.

This is a good example of teamwork. You need experts on deck doing the manual work, a helmsman steering the ship with Fingerspitzengefühl, people on the bridge spotting the next buoy, and good communication between these groups. The first activity is successfully completed, with a wow-effect.

Watching the sea ice illuminated by the ships spotlights has its own beauty. I still cannot get enough from these views.

The weather, however, worsens. At 21:10, the wind speed reaches 20 m/s for the first time that day, and the temperature is dropping as well. It is snowing, and each snowflake leaves a bright trail, like a meteor. How will the weather be like tomorrow?

15 October

Over night, it has become even colder and windier. The temperature -10 °C and falling, and the wind speed is above 20 m/s and increasing. Ice floes cover the ocean. Now I’m glad, I brought my warmest down parka with me.

Two CTD casts have been completed today, but then it became too stormy to continue. I go onto the helicopter deck to take some photos, but the wind is so strong, that although I never thought it could actually happen, I’m afraid of being blown overboard. I can’t see much because I’ve pulled up the fur-trimmed hood of my parka to protect myself from the cold, and the wind blows the fur in all direction closing the hood even further.

In the evening – well, I managed to get a shot from the side of the ship, where I was slightly sheltered from the storm. When I went around the corner to the helicopter deck, I had to seek shelter because the storm was too strong. I took a selfie, but in a sheltered corner so that I could stand steadily and avoid getting frostbite on my hand while using my mobile phone.

16 October

At the risk of repeating myself, the weather looks even worse. I wake up at 5 o’clock, and the temperature is -15.4 °C with a wind speed of 26.2. That’s a wind chill of -32.6 °C. In mid-October!

If you have read this article so far, you might get the impression that I am here as a photographer, but I’m actually here as a data manager, and I spend a lot of time at my computer in the Conference Work Room. I just don’t write too much about my computer work here. I am making good progress, but the distractions are there, for example, the frost patterns on the outer windows. This one looks like a jellyfish made of ice.

Right after lunch I go outside once more, this time to the ship’s stern, where I had a better protection from the wind. Oh, how I love watching the sea ice gently drifting by or being crushed forcefully by the ship.

Ok, back to work. I’m almost finished with the day’s work when the others in the room suddenly jump up and disappear. A polar bear has been sighted in front of the ship. It takes me some time to put on my face mask, helmet, down parka, down pants, gloves, and boots, and to mount the big telephoto lens. Only then can I take some photos of the bear in the distance. It approaches at first, but then turns right and trots away.

Fram Strait cruise – departure Oct 14 2026

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

12 October

The weather in Tromsø is clear, the mountains are white, and the reindeer are flying.

At least, it looks like this, while I’m sitting at Gate F18 of Tromsø Lufthavn, waiting for my flight to Longyearbyen, Svalbard. Some of my colleagues from the Norwegian Polar Institute are here as well. We are all going on board the research icebreaker Kronprins Haakon (KPH) for a cruise in the Fram Strait between Svalbard and northern Greenland for almost three weeks the next day.

On arrival in Svalbard, we get a lift to our respective hotels, where we stay overnight.

Passing Kronprins Haakon on our way to the centre

footpath to UNIS, where NPI has its office, too

13 October

Three of us were staying in Coal Miner’s Cabin, which is south of the centre. We share a taxi to Bykaia, part of the Port of Longyearbyen, where KPH is berthed. It has got warmer and it’s raining.

And here it is – the ship on which the 18 of us will spend the next three weeks together with the crew.

Just kidding! The RV Kronprins Haakon is actually lying in the other direction.

During the evening, the weather gets a bit ugly. It’s +5 °C, it’s raining and the wind speed is around 20 m/s. The sea state gets rougher and the waves grow higher.

14 October

In the morning the sea has calmed down and at a quarter past nine I feel the first small bump as a small ice floe collides with our ship. We have entered a band of pancake ice.

Now we are in open water again and the conditions are calm. Anyway, if Windy is right, we will get pretty rough weather tomorrow with a wind speed of around 18 m/s and an air temperature of -17 °C – a drop of almost 20 degrees. That would result in a windchill of -33 °C and I am very glad that I took my Canada Goose parka and trousers with me.

Flying a drone Aug 1 2026

I’m sitting on a bench at gate E18 of the Tromsø Airport. E18 means it’s an international flight. I am flying to Munich and will be spending a week in Augsburg. In Tromsø the temperature exceeded 20 °C on only two days in July, Augsburg will be hot with temperatures up to 35 °C. I like summer but this heat is not my thing and I’m longing for cooler temperatures already now. Like 6 May 2023, when temperatures in Tromsø reached only around 6 °C.

On that day I tested a drone of the Norwegian Polar Institute for an expedition. Flying a drone always means having to leave Tromsøya because of the airport restrictions.

Last week I tested again, this time a newer drone belonging to the Norwegian Polar Institute and a better remote control for my own drone, which I bought second-hand a few days ago. I really like the institute’s DJI Mavic 3 Pro because it is larger, more stable, and has three cameras. But I’m pretty content with my own DJI Mini 3 Pro, especially now with the updated remote control. Under good light conditions they both make great photos. Here is one from Kattfjordeidet, Kvaløya, and the others are from Sommarøya. You can try to guess which drone took which photo. I couldn’t.

About half a year ago I had my drone with my as well, this time on the frozen Baltic Sea where I flew it several times. Publishing aerial photos taken in Sweden always takes a while, as you need to apply for publication permission for each photo. I have obtained permission to publish the following photo of the lighthouse Dynan and the island Bredskär. So, here it is:

If everything goes according to plan I will go on a three-week work cruise with the icebreaking vessel Kronprins Haakon between Svalbard and Greenland in October. Hopefully, we will have good conditions for ice stations. Then I’ll take orthophotos of and on the ice again.

Two days in Malangen Jun 11 2026

Yesterday and today our department “Miljø og kart” MIKA at the Norwegian Polar Institute had a two-day seminar on the Malangen peninsula.

We travelled there by bus while in glorious real summer weather. Two photos I took from the bus:

Between the last presentation in the afternoon and dinner we had a few hours off. A group of us headed to a spot by Lake Nikkavatnet and I went round the lake with a colleague. It was a beautiful walk of about 2 km, revealing another facet of Northern Norway: Forest and lake – with snowy mountain ranges on the horizon.

During the night the weather changed completely. This morning it was about ten degrees colder and it was cloudy with occasional rain showers. Therefore the view from the bus on the way back was quite different:

Bergen reloaded Jun 3 2026

On Sunday I flew to Bergen once more. While it had been sunny a few days ago, it now presented itself as Bergen is known for: rainy.

It was not the normal rain with raindrops falling from above. It was more like an omnipresent moisture coming at you from all directions. Invisible to the eye but you get wet anyway.

On Monday I went to work. I went from the hotel in the centre to the Port of Bergen, where it took me a while to find the entrance and then to get on the list for a day visit aboard the icebreaker Kronprins Haakon.

My pocket was full of cards – one for my hotel room, one visitor card for the port, one for the ship.

One of the instruments on the bridge is a radar used for sea ice navigation. On this day an engineer from Sea Hawk was installing additional hardware that delivered the radar video signal and additional data such as GPS and gyro to an auxiliary network. My responsibility was the other half: the laptop and the software to read and store the data. And so my workplace looked like:

After some hours of work the “radar” laptop showed the same data as the large overhead display on the bridge. The engineer calibrated the scan streamer unit and I used the rest of my working day to catch one hour of radar data as an example. As expected the amount of data was immense: about 74 GB per hour.

Radar view on the Laptop (Software: ScanView, dspnor)

Then it was time to head back to my hotel in Bergen, the city with about two hundred days of precipitation a year. Even the shops here reflect the omnipresence of rain.

Tor te rest of the day, I was a tourist and took some tourist photos in Bryggen, the famous historic quarter.

A day and half a night in Bergen May 30 2026

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?

Tube with first aid equipment and stretcher

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 …

… 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.

Visiting Kronprins Haakon Apr 6 2025

Last Thursday I visited the icebreaker Kronprins Haakon in the port of Tromsø. Not to join an expedition but only for a couple of hours. I wanted to check some code that is supposed to run on the ship later this year. This is part of my work as a software developer and data manager at the Norwegian Polar Institute. When I run code in the office I always have to simulate the systems running on the vessel and I was glad that the software actually worked with the real ship’s system as intended.

“Takk for sist” – thanks for the last time – you say in Norway, when you haven’t seen each other for a while. I’ve been on several cruises with Kronprins Haakon and so I know part of the crew and they know me. “Takk for sist, Roy”. “Takk for sist, Ronny”. “Takk for sist. (I forgot your name, sorry.)”

This year, the budget is far too tight to allow me another cruise and no one knows next year’s budget. But three expeditions I’ve done already. Since I’m a software developer I wrote some code to create the ship’s tracks from these expeditions as “GeoJSON”, a file format that you can easily load in the open source GIS software QGIS. Here is a Screenshot I made. Greenland to the left, Svalbard to the right:

Tracks of Kronprins Haakon on the cruises I joined.

Arven etter Nansen JC3 · Arctic Ocean 2023 I · Fram Strait 2024

Just now (2025-04-06T19:31:54Z) Kronprins Haakon is in the Svovelbukta in southern Spitsbergen. I however will continue office work in Tromsø tomorrow and improve the code I’ve written. Hopefully I can try it out again when Kronprins Haakon is in Tromsø again. There are several opportunities.

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