An opportunity too good to miss!

My plans for last year took an unexpected, last-minute detour to the Arctic, thanks to a cancellation spot that opened up on the Aurora Expeditions Svalbard Odyssey photography expedition—with none other than Nigel Danson, James Popsys, Mads Peter Iversen and Jack Lodge.

Svalbard had been high on my wishlist of dream destinations to visit and photograph for years. And with new travel restrictions set to come into force in 2025, this felt like fate stepping in (or at least, that’s what I told myself to justify the sudden pivot!).

What really tipped the scales was that Nigel generously invited me to co-lead the workshop. Honestly, I can’t thank him enough for the opportunity—not just to work alongside such inspiring photographers, but to connect with the brilliant participants who joined us for this wild Arctic adventure.

(Since I was in a co-leader role, I’ve changed the format of this blog slightly from my usual travel diaries. Throughout, I’ve shared some of the tips and techniques I offered participants—let me know in the comments if you find them useful!)

So, with that in mind—and after a bit of grovelling to my boss for the flexibility to check in with customers and colleagues via patchy Arctic wifi—I packed my bags and set off north.

All the images in this post (except the cheeky iPhone snaps!) can be clicked to expand

so you can enjoy a larger perspective of the frozen beauty we experienced.

Weathering the Arctic

The expedition quickly became defined by one of the Arctic’s most notorious traits: wildly unpredictable weather.

When we landed in Longyearbyen, we were greeted not by snow or icy winds, but by the hottest August temperatures ever recorded there—a positively tropical 20.3°C (68.5°F). For context, the average for August usually hovers between 6–9°C (42–48°F). So yes, you could say we were caught off guard.

According to a 2022 study by Finnish and Norwegian researchers, the Arctic has warmed almost four times faster than the rest of the world since 1979. And we certainly felt (and saw) that reality first-hand. Locals were soaking up the sun outside coffee shops and restaurants, BBQing in back gardens, and we were wandering around in t-shirts, smothering ourselves in sunscreen—something I never thought I’d pack for the Arctic.

As always, James was completely in his element, capturing the beautifully mundane in a way only he can. If you haven’t seen his images from this trip, you absolutely should check them out —he has a knack for finding the extraordinary in the ordinary. While I tend to chase wildlife and landscapes, James sees the town through a totally different lens. I’d love to say I did the same... but alas, photographing urban scenes at 78° north just doesn’t come naturally to me! So I came away from our brief stop in Longyearbyen with very few images.

(That said, I can wholeheartedly recommend Café Huskies—the dream combo of some of the best coffee I’ve ever had, and actual huskies to keep you company. 10/10 would return just for that.)

Onboard the ship, we were teased on our first sunrise with beautiful light, impressive mountains, glaciers and low cloud. Having learned the hard lesson of never missing a sunrise in Antarctica, I was out early to breathe in the Arctic air and enjoy the views.

The wind soon picked up, and mist rolled in just in time for our first zodiac exploration of Burgerbukta. For those in the group who hadn’t experienced photographing on a zodiac, it was a baptism of arctic sea spray and bouncy conditions.

Tip: One of the tips I shared with the participants in the workshop was to make sure you are giving yourself ‘breathing space’ when you take your shots on zodiacs, this is especially true when the conditions are challenging as they were on this particular day. The bouncing of the zodiac means that sometimes your horizon lines are off, and you have more sky or sea in your composition than you may have intended! Zooming out a little gives you more chance to recompose the shot in Lightroom when you edit.

Misty Mornings & Moving Targets

Mist and thick fog were a recurring theme throughout our expedition—sometimes adding gorgeous atmosphere to our images, and other times giving poor Christophe, our Aurora Expeditions leader, a major headache.

Each evening, he’d share his “intention” for the following day, always managing expectations with a calm, dry wit that acknowledged the Arctic often had other plans. And oh, how it did.

What I hadn’t fully appreciated before this trip was just how important clear visibility is—not just for navigation, but for safety. Before any landing, the Aurora Expeditions team would scout the site for polar bears. Naturally, if one was spotted, we wouldn’t set foot on land (understandably so). In those cases, we’d observe safely from the zodiacs or ship. But if thick fog was blanketing the area—as it did on several mornings—it meant no scouting, and therefore, no landings. Safety first, always.

This is just the nature of these expeditions: no fixed itinerary, no guarantees. Even when a possible destination was pencilled in, the Arctic weather—or its four-legged residents—might decide otherwise.

Some might find that kind of uncertainty frustrating, but honestly, I think it teaches us something important. As photographers, it pushes us to develop patience, adaptability, and the ability to shift our perspective—sometimes quite literally! When you can’t go wide on a glacier, maybe there’s beauty in the misty textures right in front of you.

Tip: One challenge on trips like this is advising participants on gear or settings before heading out in the zodiacs—because truthfully, you never really know what you’re going to be shooting, or how quickly the conditions might change. To help with that, I made a point of sharing the settings I was using and the compositional choices I was making while we were out in the field. Back on board, we also ran informal lectures in the ship’s theatre, giving everyone a memory bank of techniques and ideas they could draw from—ready to adapt, whatever the Arctic threw our way.

Misty mornings in Alkefjellet Svalbard — Low cloud and fog was a theme of the trip but on this one particular morning in Alkefjellet, I didn’t mind!

Speaking of wildlife….

One thing I want to take the opportunity to emphasise—on both my Antarctica and Svalbard trips, the Aurora Expeditions team consistently prioritised the wellbeing of wildlife above all else. That meant keeping a respectful distance at all times and, just as importantly, moving the zodiacs on after a few minutes to minimise any potential disturbance.

Far from taking away from the experience, I think this enhanced it. Observing these animals in their own world, on their own terms, made each encounter feel even more special—and the behaviours we witnessed were completely natural, which is a photographer’s dream

All the photos I share of the wildlife were taken at a distance, with my Canon RF 100-500mm F4.5-7.1 L IS USM lens, and have been cropped in post-processing.

One of the reasons I wanted to go to Svalbard was, of course, the wildlife. I was looking forward to hopefully encountering Polar Bears and Walruses in their natural habitat; but of course, given what I’ve just said about the weather and nature, I didn’t have unrealistic expectations that we would need luck on our side, too.

Fortunately, luck was indeed on our side, and even on day 1, we saw a polar bear walking along the shoreline just after sunrise and before the mist closed in.

Little did I know, this would be the first of 10 polar bears we would see on this trip! Something I couldn’t have even begun to hope for and knowing that for some, they are lucky to see one - and that may even be on the last day of their trip, and some see none.

We had some really skilled polar bear spotters on this trip, and we even nicknamed Jack Lodge the polar bear spotter as he seemed to have a sixth sense for picking them out—often managing to distinguish a sleeping bear from, say, a particularly suspicious cream-coloured rock. (No mean feat in this landscape!)

Sometimes it really was like playing a high-stakes Arctic version of Where’s Wally—a pale shape nestled against a glacier or curled into the tundra, almost indistinguishable until suddenly, it moved.

Polar bear or rock in Svalbard — The daily game of Polar Bear or rock is demonstrated perfectly here. Imagine this sight from an incredible distance through binnoculars or a telephoto lens! (Rest assured this isn’t the best photo of a polar bear I have, but I wanted to demonstrate the challenge!)

A Polar Bear Lunch Break

One of the most unforgettable encounters we had with a polar bear took place on Jakimoviceyane Island—and, like all the best wildlife moments, it came when we least expected it.

We were halfway through lunch when an announcement crackled over the ship’s speaker system: a polar bear had been spotted. The dining room emptied in seconds, like someone had pulled a fire alarm! Trays abandoned, conversations mid-bite—everyone scrambling for layers, cameras, and to get into zodiacs!

A carcass had been seen on the shoreline, which meant the team believed the polar bear might be nearby. Sure enough, a large bear was seen walking along the shoreline and up to the top of the cliffs to look down on us as we couldn’t believe the size of this bear. We had been told during one of the educational lectures that took place on the ship, that ‘fat’ polar bears are a good sign - it means they are well-nourished and healthy - and this bear certainly looked like it had eaten well.

Content with our encounter we continued to cruise around the island, enjoying the sea birds.

Not long after, a bear was seen at the opposite end of the island - confused as to whether this was the same bear who had covered a lot of ground so fast, we headed towards the carcass that had been seen earlier.

Polar Bear eating a carcass — A young polar bear checking whether it’s safe to keep eating the leftovers

We believe this was a second bear—much smaller, and likely a younger male—taking his chances for a snack from the carcass left behind.

The expedition team explained that younger polar bears, especially those who’ve recently left their mums, will sometimes shadow more experienced bears to benefit from their hunting efforts. And that’s exactly what we think we were witnessing.

This bear padded quietly along the shoreline, swam confidently through the frigid waters, and made his way to the carcass—what we believed to be a walrus. He began feeding, cautiously but purposefully, occasionally lifting his head to sniff the air, ears alert, scanning the landscape—waiting to see if the larger bear would return to claim the prize.

The zodiacs from the ship did a silent dance of manoeuvering us around so everyone could take a turn to see, change perspective and maintaining a distance that did not disturb the bear, before heading back to the ship for us to marvel over what we had been fortunate enough to witness.

Eventually, we headed back to the ship, buzzing with excitement and completely in awe of what we’d just witnessed.

Then, just a couple of hours later, came another announcement: two more polar bears had been spotted in the distance.

Four bears in one day.
We couldn’t believe our luck.

Tip: The joke of ‘spray and pray’ was used a lot on this workshop - but for good reason. I was shooting with high-speed continuous shooting on my Canon EOS R5 to give me as many photos to select from in post-processing. This not only helped as the wildlife moved but also because the zodiacs would manoeuvre to give each group a chance to see. Firing off shots in this way gives you a greater chance of success in challenging conditions when you come to review images.

I’m guessing there was something worth photographing here?! (Photo taken by Aurora Expeditions Ship Photographer Adrian Wlodarczyk)

What happens when two polar bears meet?

We had already heard a lot about Kvitøya (English: "White Island”) during two fascinating talks that one of the expedition team, Avi (Aviaaja Schlüter), had shared with us on the Arctic balloon expedition of 1897. Salomon August Andrée decided in his wisdom to attempt to fly to the North Pole in a hydrogen balloon. I won’t ruin the full story but, it’s one of twists and turns, romance and jaw-dropping hilarity (the way Avi told it also helped!). You can also visit the Svalbard Museum to see an exhibition on the expedition.

Kvitoya unique dome glacier — Kvitøya dome glacier

Birds on a glacier — Tiny birds resting on the glacier patterns - so hard to see from a distance, but if you’re looking around and enjoying your surroundings you find unique sights!

The unique shapes and patterns of the dome glacier that blankets much of Kvitøya had us out on deck early, photographing from the ship before we’d even boarded the zodiacs. It’s the kind of otherworldly landscape that almost doesn’t look real—sweeping ice curves, wind-sculpted textures, and that magical polar light.

But the glacier wasn’t going anywhere. And once again, wildlife took priority—a polar bear had been sighted near a small, sandy shoreline, so off we went to spend time with one of the Arctic’s most iconic residents.

When we arrived, we found one bear lounging on the beach, stretched out in a pose I can only describe as cat-like—front paws crossed, head down, completely relaxed. Behind it, on a small rocky mound, lay another bear, fast asleep. It was a picture of peace, power, and pure Arctic calm.

Then, a subtle shift—the front bear lifted its head to sniff the air, alert. We turned to see another polar bear appear on the horizon, ambling down the rocky slope toward the shoreline.

And then, to our collective surprise... this new bear made a beeline not for the others, but for the seaweed.

Yes, seaweed.

Apparently, it had decided this salty snack was worth the effort—and we watched, fascinated, as it carefully untangled strands of seaweed, slurping them up like pasta. I had no idea polar bears ate seaweed, but there it was—grazing like a beachcomber on spaghetti. One of those unexpected moments that makes the Arctic feel even more magical.

Meanwhile, the first polar bear lounged contentedly, soaking up the gentle early evening sun. Just as the zodiacs were preparing to move on, the bear that had been enjoying its seaweed pasta suddenly started to walk towards the other.

Our zodiac driver quickly radioed the expedition leader, asking for permission to stay and watch the interaction—and luckily, we were granted the green light.

We all held our breath as the two bears approached one another, unsure what would happen next, yet utterly awestruck that three polar bears were sharing the same beach within mere metres of each other.

As they came within touching distance, the bears circled cautiously. Just when it seemed they might part ways, they instead moved closer, gently touching noses, exchanging a careful sniff... and then, calmly, went their separate ways.

We finally exhaled—what felt like hours of suspense was really only a few minutes. But in those moments, watching these magnificent creatures acknowledge one another in their natural habitat, I felt profoundly lucky.

Once again, I couldn’t believe how lucky we’d been to not only see these bears in their natural habitat but to also witness this behaviour and interaction between them.

As if Kvitøya hadn’t treated to enough luck, as we cruised on the zodiacs observing the shapes and patterns of the glacier, we saw a group of walruses swimming so we went over to observe.

Black and White image of Walrus Heard — Walrus heard at Aroneset

Earlier in the week, we’d already been lucky enough to see a herd of walruses at Aroneset. That day was cloaked in thick fog, so we couldn’t make a landing to get closer— but honestly, you could smell the walruses before you could see them!

Out of the mist, they slowly emerged as a massive, almost surreal pile of tusks and bodies. These incredible creatures can grow up to 3.5 meters long and weigh as much as 1.5 tonnes, and seeing that herd gave us a real sense of their immense size and scale.

At Kvitøya, the walruses we spotted were all swimming, which made it harder to appreciate their sheer bulk, but it was equally captivating to watch them moving together in the water as a group—a completely different experience.

We’d been told that walruses are quite nervous animals, so on both occasions, the zodiacs cut their engines, and we simply drifted silently to observe. Even the smallest sounds—lens caps clicking or metal clinking—can spook them, so our collective quiet meant we could truly hear their breathing and low grunts as they moved underwater or surfaced nearby.

As much as the jaw-dropping sights of the Arctic fire up my excitement to yabber on and on, it was these quiet, hushed moments—just listening, watching, and feeling part of the world around us—that felt truly special.

The sound of Ice

Thinking about enjoying the moment you are in, and not just living through the viewfinder, one of the moments I enjoyed most in terms of sensory experience was hearing the sound of ice.

When you’re out in a zodiac, so close to the water, if you sit quietly and listen, you can hear the tiniest pieces of ice popping—like Rice Krispies or popping candy fizzing in your mouth. We were told this is the sound of trapped oxygen escaping from the ice. It’s not the same as the crack of an ice cube in a glass—it’s softer, almost magical.

Another sensory moment that has stayed with me is the smell of the glacier. On one zodiac exploration, Avi guided us to notice how the air changes as we approached the glacier front.

I might never have caught it myself if she hadn’t pointed it out. Not only does the air grow colder, but the scent shifts—it’s fresher, cleaner. Imagine the sensation of one of those strong mints that clears your sinuses, but without the punch of mint—just pure crispness.

These moments can’t be captured in a photograph, but they live vividly in my memory. Maybe as you scroll through the images in this blog, you’ll feel a spark of those sensations, too.

Tip: I can’t stress this enough, put the camera down and soak in the sights, sounds and smells of where you are. Not only does it give you rich memories, I also think it helps you find unique compositions as you’re looking for ways to convey the other senses in your photography.

One of my biggest misconceptions about Svalbard? I expected to see way more sea ice. (Summer brain, I guess—I really should’ve used a pinch of common sense!)

But when we finally sailed as far north as 82 degrees, we woke to an ethereal sight: a misty, pastel sunrise casting soft colours across the sky, with sea ice drifting gently ahead of the bow as the ship glided through it effortlessly.

The slow pace of the ship gave us time to explore compositions in the ice, admire shimmering reflections, and marvel at a rare fog-bow that appeared—an Arctic phenomenon that looks like a ghostly rainbow in the mist.

Jack captured a phenomenal photo of this moment, and if you get a chance, I highly recommend checking it out his .shot).

Pastel sunrise over sea ice — The beautiful sunrise over the sea ice, and expedition teams on polar bear patrol, before we could head out.

The other treat that the sea ice had in store for us, was the Arctic Polar plunge, which, despite the fact that they had to move ice out of the ‘jump spot’ I had no hesitation in participating in, because how many people get the opportunity to complete an Arctic and Antarctic plunge in the same year?! (I can confirm the Arctic polar plunge was much saltier and felt much colder than the one in Antarctica!). Followed by the on-deck Arctic BBQ and silly hats lunch to warm up.

Our last treat of the day was to walk on sea ice - the expedition crew had found a large piece of sea ice, with a beautiful pool of unbelievably blue water (which Jack can confirm was very salty?!). Standing on this ice as far north as we were gave us a real sense of how isolated and remote we were. Leaving this particular area of Svalbard was hard, it was incredibly beautiful and I would’ve loved to stay longer in this area - as the ship sailed at sunset - the sea ice ended abruptly with a definitive line in the ocean, which was a real surprise to me.

Photography workshop group stood on sea ice in Svalbard — Standing on Sea Ice in the Arctic - what a memorable experience with a fantastic group of photographers!

Sea Ice and sunset in Svalbard — Leaving the sea ice behind - I was amazed at the clear line that could be seen as if imaginary wall existed!

The two sides of Alkefjellet

One of the locations I enjoyed but also surprised me the most was Alkefjellet. Again the day started with thick fog, but this would add to the atmosphere and experience that lay in store for us.

We boarded the zodiacs and cruised toward a small glacier, and I could sense the expedition team’s excitement—they were eager to see our reactions.

As we moved away from the glacier and rounded the cliff front, I was instantly transported to a world that felt straight out of King Kong or Pandora. The cliffs rose up in towering basalt formations over 100 metres high, stretching for several kilometres.

Then the wildlife spectacle hit us—over 60,000 pairs of guillemots filled the air and cliffs, flying overhead, nesting, and creating a chorus of unforgettable sound.

It was a dream come true for wildlife and landscape photographers alike.

What I loved most was the juxtaposition this place offered.

Facing the cliffs, you get the chaos and energy of thousands of birds in frenetic motion. Turn the other way, though, and it’s a scene of calm and quiet—single birds or small groups, patterns unfolding that told a very different story.

I also found myself drawn to the smaller details—the patterns of guano splattered on the rocks—thinking they might make for striking black-and-white abstracts when I got to post-processing.

Tip: Look all around you! Don’t just fixate on what the perceived main subject is in a location - look in the opposite direction, or above and below you. You may be surprised at some unique compositions or details/abstracts you find.

Bird Cliffs of Alkefjellet — The bird cliffs of Alkefjellet - an unexpected favourite location!

Final thoughts

As I reflect on this incredible expedition, I’m reminded of the unpredictable beauty that the Arctic offers—a place where both nature and wildlife are truly untamed. While the polar bears, walruses, and towering glaciers leave you speechless, the real essence of Svalbard lies in its ability to teach you patience, adaptability, and a sense of humility in the face of unpredictability. The trip certainly taught me patience and challenged me more than Antarctica. Perhaps this was also combined with me co-leading the workshop, so I wanted to make sure my attention and focus was on the guests; who I hope had a fantastic time and learned lots.

As always. more than just a collection of photographs, the memories of misty mornings, the sound of ice popping beneath the zodiac, and the serene silence of the frozen landscape will stay with me forever. And as a photographer, those are the experiences that shape how we see the world and, ultimately, what we bring back to share with others.

Fancy travelling with me in 2026?!

Off the back of this expedition, I am absolutely thrilled and humbled to announce that I will be co-leading the 2026 Photography Expedition to Antarctica!

Antarctica made a real impact on me in 2024, and to be able to share my experience and unique perspective as a previous guest on this expedition along with the incredibly talented and awesome photographers that will be co-leading is something I am excited to share with you. So if you’re interested, Aurora Expeditions will work with you for a tailor-made quotation. Full details can be found here and you can also read my blogs from my trip to whet your appetite; Hopefully see you in 2026, if not before!

Photography at 82 degrees North!

Photographing & Exploring Antarctica