Embracing My Arctic Love: Ode to Spitsbergen
Embracing My Arctic Love: Ode to Spitsbergen
Revised Base Article:
For nearly two decades, Birgit Lutz has ventured to Svalbard, an island group beyond the Arctic Circle, and she's witnessed profound transformations. In her book "My Svalbard," she dilates on the transformation of once pristine beaches into dumping grounds, the subtler "Norwegianization" of the culture, breathtaking ice landscapes, and even nudist clubs.
"Pristine white and azure, such is the Arctic's portrayal in brochures and documentaries—white snow, blue ice, pristine skies, and bears strutting in the midst, all untouched," Birgit pens in "My Svalbard," published by Mare Verlag. The stark truth, she admits, is often more nuanced. "Frequently, one must strive to photographe beyond filth if one desires the pristine to appear so in the final image."
Through humorous anecdotes and revealing facts, Lutz shares the untamed wildness and precarious existence of Svalbard's inhabitants. She savors the splendor and tenacity of the few living north of the Arctic Circle, chronicling her experiences guarding remote cabins, supply runs with sled dogs, even earning a certificate in skinny-dipping. To attain the certification, you must dive beneath icy waters with only onlookers to witness your fortitude—one from the opposite sex and the other, a meteorological station overseeing the "Nudist Club."
Priority for Polar Bears
Svalbard has developed a second home for Birgit Lutz, a native Bavarian. She has crossed Greenland, accompanied whalers and seal hunters, and led expedition parties. Above all, she continuously returns to Svalbard, observing the changes wrought by politics and the climate crisis.
Situated approximately 1,300 kilometers north of the Arctic Pole, in the Arctic Ocean, Svalbard ranks as one of the world's most northerly inhabited regions. Longyearbyen, its primary settlement, boasts around 2,500 residents, the majority drawn for temporary purposes—research or employment. Residents step lightly in housing free of locks, travel in just socks, and keep keys in cars. All such peculiarities emerge out of necessity, as a nod to the ubiquitous polar bears, who ordinaryy stroll along the roads, claimed to have the legal right to do so.
According to Lutz, Norway's influence has been subtly shifting, a phenomenon she terms "creeping Norwegianization." Under the Svalbard Treaty of 1920, Norway wields sovereignty over the peacefully demilitarized island group, granting citizens of all signatory nations equal rights to trade, work, and travel. However, Lutz notes that this once smooth-running machinery has begun to creak, with non-Norwegians excluded from elections, sudden revocations of driver's licenses, and unequal distribution of corona aid.
Lutz paints a multifaceted portrait of Svalbard, delving into its rich history. She recalls the valorous story of one of the first female trappers and her children, who navigated the wilderness during the 1930s. She also tells of Salomon August Andrée's tragic attempt to reach the Pole in 1897, despite using a hydrogen balloon. Their remains were discovered thirty-three years later on Kvitøya, Svalbard's remote island.
Lutz also includes descriptions of avian life, such as the auks, whose pleasant cries herald the summer's return. She shares accounts of her harrowing expedition journeys, where ice landscapes magically appear from the fog as you enter a fjord. Under the ethereal blue hour, she exclaims, "Everything glowed in such deep blue that you could almost reach out and touch it!" She captivates readers with the "barren charm" of the Arctic, which "sharpens one's senses." Though a boon in the wilderness, feelings can occasionally hinder urban dwellers.
A thematic thread running throughout the book is the ongoing battle against the climate crisis. "Can you still admire Svalbard's beauty for long?" Lutz poses. "Security is gone—" she laments, "no longer can we rely on many things."
The environmental crisis has necessitated waste cleanup projects, which Lutz carries out in collaboration with expedition ship guests. These clean-ups often reveal discarded fishing equipment, ropes, and nets, and an astonishing abundance of polyester straps. Lutz's mission reflects a larger initiative to inform and inspire action on behalf of preserving the Arctic's unique beauty.
Lutz's "My Svalbard" transcends a merely affectionate ode; instead, it becomes a passionate plea to contribute, no matter how small, to safeguarding the Arctic's unparalleled wonders.
Enrichment Data:
- Glacier Retreat: The majority (91%) of Svalbard's glaciers have shrunk by over 500 square miles since 1985, with rapidly increasing rates of seasonal fracturing, flow, and calving into nearby seas.
- Atmospheric Blocking: Rapid warming in the Arctic is linked to atmospheric blocking, a weather pattern that traps cold air and warms certain regions beyond the average.
- Marine Life and Ecosystems: Glacier retreat has significant consequences for marine life, altering precipitation and snowfall patterns, which, in turn, destabilizes the food chain and potentially displaces animal populations.
- Thawing Permafrost: Thawing permafrost poses risks to infrastructure, mobility, and supply, disrupts water quality, and can expose people to infectious diseases and contaminants.
- Environmental Regulations: New environmental regulations in Svalbard, such as passenger number limits, drone bans, and restrictions on motorized traffic on sea ice, aim to monitor and reduce impacts on the environment.
The Commission has explored the impact of the climate crisis on Svalbard's glaciers and designated areas for waste cleanup initiatives, as suggested by Birgit Lutz in her book "My Svalbard."
Furthermore, the Commission has expressed concern over the subtler "Norwegianization" of Svalbard's culture, a phenomenon discussed by Lutz, and is investigating potential instances of unequal treatment and exclusion from elections and services for non-Norwegian residents.