We arrived on the ship on Thursday afternoon, and after a quick orientation, everyone settled into their staterooms (we have staterooms – and in fact we have beds, with legs on the floor, and space under them to hide extra gear) and stow their gear. My bunkmate and I both had the same emotional moment standing there in our little room, realizing we are really here, in the arctic, on the boat, setting out on this enormous adventure.
We left Longyearbyen just before supper, so we ate underway and talked about how the trip would go.
We have four guides, and we are not allowed ashore without them. They have rifles and flare guns to protect us hapless artists from encroaching wildlife, mostly polar bears, and walkue-talkies to talk with each other and the ship, and backpacks full of emergency supplies and extra warmth and goodness knows what else. Our fearless leader is Sarah, and possibly the most frequently said words on the ship are “Sarah says…” We joke about her being a professional badass, an arctic superwoman, but as the trip has gone on, those jokes feel closer and closer to the truth. She is assisted by Tuomas, Lars and Sanna. Together they scout landings, set up perimeters, and oversee us working, or they accompany small groups of us as we move about. A substantial portion of the participants are able hikers, and looking forward to walking in the arctic landscape.
For artists, we have a broad array. A handful of people are collecting sounds for different reasons – to builds sounds for synthesizers, for manipulating into music, or as part of performance work. There are a couple of people painting, one composer, and then the photographers. No one is not taking pictures. Cameras range from very large, with gimbals and stabilizers, to DSLRs with extravagant lenses to everyone else taking pictures with point-and-shoot or phones. I am the only person stitching, but there are a lot of people knitting, including two of the guides and one of the mates. We have thirty artists, our guides and the ship’s staff.
The ship, Antigua, has as many people running the ship as there are people looking after us, which surprised me. We are very much passengers, fed and looked after by a capable crew of four – one cook, and three “service” staff. Four more people make the boat go; a captain, and three mates. There is no chance to take the helm, because we run mostly by autopilot, but we can, and are encouraged to, help with sail handling. The mates are the people running the zodiacs (we have two) between the ship and the landing sites, and stand watch when we are underway at night, as well as doing the ongoing boat maintenance. When I wake up at 3am to check on stars and auroras, I can hang out in the wheelhouse with First Mate Hans. We don’t talk much, but it is nice to be close to the mapper and see what is out there on the radar and the depth sounder.
Lee Thomson 