The big day is approaching, and I’m beyond excited. This trip has been two years in the making, and it’s finally happening. I’m getting more and more worried that I’ll forget something, so I’m making lists of all the gear I need. I’ve been on trips to cold places before, but I’ve never done anything like this. To tell you the truth, I still have a hard time wrapping my head around where we’re going…
“So, Paul, where are you going next?” I just reply, “To an island north of Norway,” and let them imagine whatever they want.
We leave Longyearbyen and head straight north. We all gather around the captain’s screen to try to figure out exactly where we’re going. Our first stop will be just outside Longyearbyen Fjord, where we’ll have our first session.
I step out onto the deck and look around. The air is freezing on the only part of my face that isn’t covered, but my eyes are amazed by the scenery. The sun is out on this first day. I have a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that it never sets at this time of year. After three or four hours of sailing, we finally arrive at the first spot. The wind blows gently, the area looks clear, and all lights are green.
"Another important point to note is that in Svalbard, there are about 2,500 people for every 3,000 polar bears…"
So there’s a good chance we’ll spot one. Of course, our goal is to see it while we’re on the boat, not on land while we’re inflating our kites. The groups of skiers who usually come here are always accompanied by an armed guide to protect them in case of an attack. Our only defense tools are a flare gun and binoculars. Before we land on any beach, we have to scan the horizon to make sure there are no big, white fur balls around.
The base of Trinidad, a granite wall standing just over 900 meters tall, just before the setting sun breaks through the gray clouds. Photo: Zenón Seeliger
The base of Trinidad, a granite wall standing just over 900 meters tall, just before the setting sun breaks through the gray clouds. Photo: Zenón Seeliger
Then we arrive at the anchorage; there isn’t a breath of wind, but the landscape is mesmerizing. This massive ice formation has been sculpted over time. We gear up to foil around the drifting ice blocks, but it’s hard to do anything without any wind. We end up simply having fun on the ice, jumping into the water like kids and, most importantly, as if the water were actually warm when it was probably only 2°C.
Mizo joins me on the water. I don’t even have time to warn him about the submerged ice blocks before he hits one and flies right in front of me. At least I don’t have to worry about that on my twin tip.
The wind is strange, shifting unpredictably in both strength and direction. I get the sense that Olivier and Matt are really counting on this session, so I give it my all. The glacier is behind me. I can’t really see it, but they can. Apparently, it’s pretty insane.
"Another important point to note is that in Svalbard, there are about 2,500 people for every 3,000 polar bears…"
Share your story
I learned to see the world from a different perspective, where the wind is not an obstacle but an ally. The birds taught me that freedom lies in knowing when to let go.
I learned to see the world from a different perspective, where the wind is not an obstacle but an ally. The birds taught me that freedom lies in knowing when to let go.
I learned to see the world from a different perspective, where the wind is not an obstacle but an ally. The birds taught me that freedom lies in knowing when to let go.
I learned to see the world from a different perspective, where the wind is not an obstacle but an ally. The birds taught me that freedom lies in knowing when to let go.
