More ice stations and back to the open water Oct 26 2026

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

22 October

After a day with drizzle and bad visibility, there is another ice station, starting around 78° 50′ N, 6° 15′ W. The first part is interrupted soon, because a polar bear shows up, forcing the sea ice team to go back on board and wait until this specimen of Ursus Maritimus has walked away far enough for the team to go back onto the ice.

After lunch I can go onto the ice for another drone flight. It is this flight that will teach me something about drone flying on the ice. It is cold, but everything goes fine. After flying I take a selfie and go back on board the icebreaker Kronprins Haakon. I enjoy the sun and take some photos from the helicopter deck.

When I get the first result of the orthomosaic – stitched together from more than 200 photos – I experience a surprise. The photo is – well – chaos. Perhaps because I added a wrong image? But the second and third attempts are not better.

Was it the GPS? Other sensors? What happened? To make it short: It was the drift of the sea ice. It was 0.4 knots this day, which does not sound extreme. Nevertheless, it is a drift of about 12 metres per minute and that adds up, when drone flying takes half an hour. Over the next two days I use some of my time to write a script to compensate for the drift by reading the position of the ship (which drifts together with the ice). And with this drift compensation, the orthomosaic creation finally works well:

23 October

Another day with an ice station. The ice team has it tough today with temperatures around -17 °C and a wind speed of more than 10 m/s. At the same time, it gets darker each day. Yesterday there were around three hours of daylight; today it is less than two and a half. Tomorrow it will be eighty minutes and then there will be polar night for almost four months.

In the afternoon I take another drone flight from the ice. Brrr! That’s cold. The second photo shows my caps and balaclavas drying – I wore them all, one above the other.

Cold weather stuff – everything was needed

24 October

For all those interested, we got a tour through the machinery spaces by maskinsjef B. I have a deep respect for the crew members working with these complex systems and who know so much about every technical facet of this icebreaker. I do not even try to tell you anything about it because I do not have the slightest clue about any of these components. Thanks for the great tour, B.!

At 3 o’clock in the afternoon, something strange happens – we are leaving the ice behind. The boundary between the marginal ice zone and the open water is like being cut with a knife. When I am on deck, it is already too late to see this cut. We have been in the sea ice for more than a week and I have grown accustomed (and fond) to it.

But it’s not for long; we return into the ice only hours later.

25 October

Some shots taken in the evening.

26 October (today)

Today we have the last ice station. It is pretty dark, the visibility is far from brilliant and it is drizzling. I get a message from A., who has discovered a rare guest in this region – a snowy owl sitting on an ice floe nearby. This is the best shot I get of it from deck 3.

A snowy owl on an ice floe in the Fram Strait

To my delight it clears up after a while and the drizzle has stopped. My last chance to go out on the ice again to take a series of drone photos for the sixth orthomosaic of this cruise. Despite the damp weather, the results turn out to be surprisingly good. (And yes – I used drift compensation again, because here we had a drift of 0.6 knots, which is 30 cm a second.)

Kronprins Haakon in the drift ice for the last ice station

In the afternoon, while I am playing table tennis with two researchers, we leave the ice again, this time for good. The rest of this week we will spend in open water (it’s fun to play table tennis in a ship that is slightly rolling) and continue with one of the main fields of this cruise that I haven’t mentioned yet: conducting CTD casts to measure Conductivity (and so salinity) and Temperature at different Depths. The oceanographers have already conducted 49 CTDs over the last two weeks and there will be many more. But that’s another story to tell.

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.

Obbola—Tromsø via Finland – part one Jun 23 2026

This article is part of the series “2026-06: Obbola—Finland—Tromsø”.

Obbola—Oulu

I face the shark, we look into each other’s eyes. I am standing and so is the shark. It waves at me. On its stomach is the word “Wasaline”. That’s the name of the ferry to Finland that we are on.

My wife Annika and I are travelling from our house in Obbola, Sweden, to my workplace in Tromsø, Norway. We have a whole week, so it’s a vacation, not just travelling. We decided to take the ferry from Holmsund, Sweden to Vaasa, Finland. Holmsund is just on the other side of the river Umeälven and we can see the arriving and departing ferries from our house. It is 7:50, the ferry Aurora Botnia departs ten minutes ahead schedule.

I am standing outside taking photos and looking for the lighthouses. About four months ago I walked to four of them over the frozen Baltic Sea. Now, when I see the small skerries and the isolated lighthouses surrounded by the sea it feels unbelievable. Two different worlds! After we passed Storbränningen, the lighthouse furthest away, I go inside to join Annika at the rich breakfast buffet.

Storbränningen – the furthest lighthouse I visited in February

Some hours later we cruise through the Finnish archipelago near our destination, Vaasa where we arrive at 12:30 Finnish time, which is one hour ahead. We leave the ferry and drive north, partially on the main road E8 (it would lead us to Tromsø), partially on smaller detours, which are nicer to drive. The weather is mostly sunny and we start looking for beaches to go for a swim.

We turn left to the beach Kalajoen Hiekkasärkät which is surprisingly large. Boardwalks lead along the dunes and to the sea. The sea is pretty shallow. That kills my motivation a bit and we stay on land.

We enjoy the windy but fair weather for a while before we continue our travel north. We start to get hungry and I am looking for a restaurant in Raahe, about an hour away. Many restaurants close already at 18 o’clock, but I find an Asian restaurant that is open longer. When we arrive there and enter the building we are confused. There is nothing but an elevator. We enter it and find only three levels to choose from: (1), (12), and (13). And there – in level 13 is the restaurant with a wide view over land and sea and a huge buffet of sushi and Chinese and Thai food. The reviews on the web were a bit mixed but I liked it very much.

After two more hours of driving we arrive in Oulu, a major city in Finland which is European Capital of Culture this year. We take a short walk and get wet in the only rain shower of the evening. I like the many bridges, the areas of water, the fact that Oulu is a very bicycle-friendly city and the meeting of historical and contemporary architecture.

In the apartment house right in the center where we’ll stay two nights we have another elevator encounter. This vintage “hissi” looks like from the fifties and has no inner door, which gives it a bit of a steampunk appearance.

Tomorrow we’ll spend the day in Oulu. The weather forecast looks great, perhaps I’ll go for a swim tomorrow.

Swedish summer paddling 2026 Jun 17 2026

It has become a tradition that, when I’m home in Sweden in summer, I’ll take my kayak and paddle the 3.5 km to Bredviks havsbad to check if Nouri is there. In summer he runs the kiosk by the beach and that means (a) good food and (b) good music. Today I was lucky: he was there and I got my ćevapčići. It is also great to paddle on the Baltic Sea in Sweden again which is very different from paddling in Tromsø.

Passing a weather vane – I have headwind

From inland to coast – a cold car ride Feb 9 2026

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!

Sunrise winter paddling Nov 25 2025

Three days ago it thawed and stormy weather crushed all the sea ice. The day after, the temperature dropped below zero again. This morning the weather was clear and calm at -12 °C. Time for another morning kayak tour, just like four days ago.

At 7:50 I stood on the leftovers of the old ice that covered the small bay. In front of me – a fresh layer of new ice. How thick may it be? I have the feeling it will not hold my weight.

You see the photo above? The kayak is tilted sideways. That’s not because of the waves or because I’m edging, but because the kayak is lying on the ice. The ice is stable enough to bear us with me sitting in the kayak. I move forward by using ice safety picks that I drive into the ice in front of me and then pull the kayak and myself forward. It’s exhausting, but it works. I have done it many times before. The ice is approximately 3 cm thick.

But then the ice gets thinner and has exactly the thickness I loathe: between 1.5 cm and 2 cm. Then the kayak breaks through and is jammed in a narrow water channel, where it’s almost impossible to use your paddle – no open water reachable – or the ice picks – the ice will break when pulling. Luckily the water channels often tend to widen, so you can kayak back some metres, get some forward momentum using the paddle and break another two metres of ice. That takes a lot of time and extends the distance paddled by a factor of four or more.

But then – finally – I reach open water by the island Lillskär. It took me almost half an hour for less than 300 metres!

Anyhow I manage to reach the sunrise in time. Now the surface of the sea is multicoloured. The back of the waves are reflecting the orange horizon, the front of the waves the blue sky above.

Now I just paddle a short round, because it is a weekday and I have to work. Just some more photos with my mobile phone in its waterproof bag …

Water to the left, thin ice to the right

… before I return home. First it is easy, because the channel that I had broken through the ice is open and I can easily follow it. Then the ice gets thicker again. I’m tired and since the water is pretty shallow I exit the kayak and walk the kayak home. I learn that the ice does not bear me at all. So I break it with my knees or – when deeper – with my rear. I would not dare to do this with my kayaking drysuit, but today I wear my survival suit made of thick neoprene, which is very sturdy.

I reach the shallow part of the bay where I manage to grab a large piece of ice and put it upright. Time to play a bit with the translucent motif in front of the sun.

It is two o’clock in the afternoon when I decide to take another break from my desk to watch the sunset. To make a long story short – I got it. No kayaks involved this time.

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