Svalbard is as far north as scheduled flights will take you — a frozen archipelago where polar bears are thought to outnumber people and the true wilderness begins at the edge of the only town. It is the most serious expedition we run, and the most rewarding to design well.
Ship-based, by necessity
Most of Svalbard is reachable only by sea. We design small-ship expeditions — a handful of cabins, an ice-strengthened hull and a high ratio of expert guides — that nose into fjords, land by Zodiac on untouched shingle and follow the pack ice north in search of wildlife.
Scale is everything: the smaller the ship, the more places it can land and the closer the experience comes to genuine exploration.
For the other great Arctic expedition, read our Greenland dispatch →
Polar bears and the pack ice
The bears are why most travellers come, and a responsible expedition tracks the ice edge where they hunt — always at a careful, regulated distance and always with an armed, trained guide, as Svalbard law requires beyond the settlements.
Walrus haul-outs, Arctic fox, beluga and immense seabird cliffs fill the hours between sightings.
Svalbard is not a place you tick off. You visit carefully, and on its terms.
Endless day, endless night
From roughly April to August the sun never sets; from November to February it never rises, and the polar night brings a strange, lantern-lit stillness — and, frequently, the aurora directly overhead. Spring, with snowmobile and dog-sled terrain still firm, is our preferred season for land-based stays out of Longyearbyen.
Svalbard books up far ahead on the best small ships, so we plan early. We look for vessels with the right ice class and a strong guide ratio — the expedition team makes or breaks the trip.
