I can’t tell how real this moment was, when the clouds opened up in the arctic midnight sun, just enough for land to appear.
Bjornoya or Bear Island was on our way to Svalbard. It is as inaccessible as to appear in the fabulous “Atlas of Remote Islands” by Judith Sharansky. Just a man’s hand of meteorologists populate the rock. It’s birds enthusiasts’ heaven on earth. Approaching land, we saw “arctic fulmars” for the first time (on foto). They are a type of “petrel,” the name of one of my favorites books.
We were smelling land intensely since a few miles ago; those who have been at sea for days know what I mean. The other sign was all these magnificent birds flying around the sails, investigating and greeting us. But we could see anything but very thick fog. We thought we might miss it. We had to be extremely close, but where were the cliffs? Would it be possible to have sailed so close to this rare place and have missed it? What a shame. Disappointment.
But, out of a sudden, the gods opened up a small gap between the clouds, and we could enjoy the spectacle of the pure, the untouched, a human-less place. It didn’t last long. After twenty minutes, we were left in complete white sea blindness again. The gods took her island back.
It was the end of my watch. I was tired; I went to bed. This morning, between the crew, was this feeling of the mystic. We all lived this moment as a penetrating and magic dream. I suppose we felt the hand of the ancient sea deities.
