Dahlbreen: A Calving Glacier
After Ymerbukta, we sailed North through the night. When we awoke, we were at a new glacier, Dahlbreen, which was filling gaps and shaping the peaks of new mountains.
We spent the morning in zodiacs cruising the waters in front of the glacier. It was incredible to get so close at the water’s edge. More active areas have a blue hue to them. As the ice melts it changes color - I don’t know how to fully describe this blue other than it is unique to ice and glaciers. The surface texture ranges dramatically throughout the glacier. The areas closest to the water looks similar to the fluffy texture of cotton candy. The top of the glacier is structured and appear like dominos resting on one another. As I scan to the right, it resemble an enormous marble wall stretching onto land.
I quickly realized that sketching a glacier is a complicated task. The amount of detail that exists in what I once assumed was a simple white mass, was overwhelming to me. I did my best.
From the zodiac, I scooped up the mixture of glacial melt and Arctic Ocean and added my papers to the liquid, infusing them with our current environment. A bearded seal watched us from a distance.
We learned from the crew about the regional tradition of using glacial ice in drinks. Naturally, we plucked a block from the water and brought it aboard. The Arctic scale had fooled us again. Even at close range, I thought I was grabbing a small piece, but it ended up being as big as a large roasted chicken (and looked like one too)! I had bought a bottle of Svalbard Aquavit, and a few of us shared a small glass over the glacial ice, in front of the glacier it came from!
In the afternoon, we landed on a tall rocky island where we could create and take in Dahlbreen from an aerial perspective. I set up on a rock and began to sketch.
Things had changed since the morning.
I thought I would be lucky to witness a glacier calving in my lifetime. But as we sat for several hours on the tall rocky island, I witnessed so many that it turned from awe to a deep unsettled feeling. Every few minutes you would hear the thunder of a collapse. Sometimes it was internal, sometimes it was at the water’s edge. It was like lightning, by the time you heard it you had missed the visual element.
When a glacier calves, the giant ice that has separated appears like crumbs scattered through the water. When it gets closer I realize it’s as large as I am- or maybe even a few of me. This is another way in which Arctic scale seems to change and is impossible to fully comprehend. The waves last long beyond the event and rock the boat and zodiacs and crash into the island I am drawing from with force.
I remember feeling like I was in a time warp, where the ancient entity that moves at a speed invisible to me had swapped time with me. It was running and I was standing still.
That night I fell asleep to the eerie spiraling calls of bearded seals and the rocking ship as we made our way further North.
